#they really got the burnt look right. burnt to a crisp and all the blood and the ashes flaking

[dr-reids-fidget-toy]

the stuff in that episode was so personal to me. how do they do that

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep6 Musings: Loumand (Spoilers)

Armand stressed me TF out this episode; I can't believe they had me yelling at my favorite TVC book character this much on this dang show. But I still stand by what I said about him having good intentions--

--but by god does this man make the worst decisions for the best reasons.

FACTS, I can't stand modern art. The first vamp capitalist, faaaacts.

The first vamp pilot--Louis WANTS to fly now!? Or maybe it's just the Cloud Gift that freaks him out; a vampire taking him up without his control/consent?

I cannot BELIEVE they're banging in Armand's office right in front of that flimsy glass door--that's why the coven hated y'all. 🤦 Rubbing in their faces that Lou can do whatever--and whoever--he wants.

OF COURSE that mofo was gonna say No--DUH! Lou, Armand don't want Lestat's spawn, he wants Lestat's SEED, there's a DIFFERENCE. 😅

He. Didn't. NO. The attitude in Lou's neck rolls had me QUAKING. AMC is leaning IN to Armand withholding more than Lestat, jfc. 😬

It was NOT ok, Armand. That was your cue to be part of the family, and join Lou as he went to the IVF clinic to get his eggs fertilized with YOUR seed, MORON. 🤦 Y'all could've been the Le Russe/Romanus family! Now they'll always be Lioncourts! 😩 Alexa, play Rolling in the Deep, cuz they could've had it all! 😔🎵 🎶

☝️ SAY IT LOUDER! ☝️

Roleplay don't mean ISH outside the bedroom--just cuz Armand's a subby bottom don't mean he didn't hold ALL the power the whole time; eff what Lou said, asked or "ordered." I said back in S1: Les & Armand HUMOR Lou, and let him pretend to be in charge (X X). It's called POWER IMBALANCE.

It looks like childbirth gone wrong.

Lou going from battered wife depression in S1 to post-partum-depression in S2. 😔 So Loius tried to kill himself again? By bleeding out? Throwing up all the blood he drank from Madeleine. Dang.

What "you did to yourself" is a little inaccurate, considering it was YOUR insensitive words that triggered him and made him want to yeet himself into the sun! This is what I always mean by Armand taking advantage of Louis' agency, cuz Louis was CLEARLY not in his right mind at the time to be asking for anything THAT serious, which he NEVER would've done elsewise.

So, 3 days after Louis' failed suicide attempt, he asked for his mind to be wiped--cuz he was still TRAUMATIZED, Armand! 🤦

Lou got high as a kite (if he was ever sober in SanFran.....)

Nearly killed the first human who managed to get anywhere towards helping him process his PTSD--if not just VENT a bit; as he hadn't spoken Lestat's name in 20+ years by that point.

Vented all his resentment to Armand for being hella boring

Was triggered by Armand telling Louis Claudia never loved him, wtf

Tried to kill himself by burning himself alive in the first sunrise he'd seen since Paul's suicide

Burnt to a crisp, he has to watch Armand torture TF out of Daniel, begging for his life & powerless to do anything

Then lay there all crispetty cracketty crunchetty and hear Armand have a effing telephone call with LESTAT

He even told OIdmaniel he'd been in so much pain he blanked out

Armand said drugs did a number on Dan's mind--Louis DIED an alcoholic; he was turned while he was drunk, and I bet mental illness runs in his family, too. So what damage was done to LOUIS' mind when he was in SanFran getting stoned every night b4 you scrambled his brain, Armand?!

Daniel's mind is sharp, yes, but his body sure ain't. Armand caused Daniel's Parkinsons--if it's even really Parkinsons, and not just the consequences of 6 days of bodily & mental torture, as his arm was crushed, head bashed, nose bled, and muscles were contorted. "To protect me, from YOU, my Molloy"--we been knew. "Why did I owe YOU my shame...my one act of cowardice?" Oh, you mean selling Claudia & Louis down the effing river?!

I'd bet money that Armand was so shook seeing Louis' reaction to what he said about Claudia hating Louis, and was so terrified of being on permanent suicide watch, that he was RELIEVED to have the chance to wipe Louis' memory, and soften the blow of his own culpability in WHY Claudia died hating Louis. Cuz she was HAPPY at that cafe with y'all! What happened AFTERWARDS, Armand!?

Why would vamps cheer and drink with alcohol; y'all shoulda known something was up; with this JUDAS at the effing table.

Why tf is Armand sleeping in Claudia's coffin? I guess Loumand doesn't share Louis' the way Loustat did. But better question: Why TF are they still in that flat?! I'd've left Paris for good; that was stupid of them to stay in coven territory. But I guess we know why Armand didn't insist they leave. 😒

Louis and Madz have tension. :(

This poor boy just CANNOT help himself, LOL.

LOLOLOLOLOL! Madz is NOSEY, spill all the tea, girl, yaaas! XD (The bass in Lou's voice when he says BIIIIIG HEAD nearly put me in a stretcher--omfg it was IMPROVISED!?)

👀 Yeah, he knows, alright. Knows you'll forgive him, Lou.

Cuz he felt he had nothing left if he didn't have you.

Cuz Santiago was right:

Speak of the devil, carrying the effing burlap sacks.

I could never sit there that calm and talk about all that without lunging over and pulling every follicle out of Armand's head.

Omg it's a matinee in DAYLIGHT, it's happening right then & there. 😭☀️

💀

[beebeewoop]

SLOPPIN IT UP TAKE 2 BECAUSE YEAH 💥

I drew mine and my friends' ocs as Evil Hall again because they're my new favorite blorbos now and I'm posting it because I wanna 💪 if you haven't read Tally Hall vs. Evil Hall (created by @salad-006) I really think you should because it's great and the guys are kinda super silly

Anyways I'm going bonkers

Spoilers for like the lastest chapter methinks proceed with caution

Starting off with the least glonked up fellas we got

Moore (belongs to @arthurisveryrandom) as Evil Zubin

Bro just look at him... He's so sad... Covered in paint... He looks traumatized... Moore is a wet cat confirmed Arthur told me so himself /JJJJJJJJJJJ

B (belongs to @shim0nk) as Evil Andrew

Bro's swaggin it up in here look at him all chill like that... Even tho he got burnt to a crisp... But it's ok because he's a robot he can't feel pain and his melted latex skin peeled right off he's ok guys don't worry. Burmnt chimnken nunghet... Also get this man on a billboard because whatever he's selling I wanna buy it I mean just look at him wouldn't you also want to buy what he's selling he seems trustworthy ykw I think I'll give him my credit card info and social security number /JJJJJJJJ (PSA: DO NOT GIVE OUT YOUR CREDIT CARD INFO AND SSN ON THE INTERNET 👍)

Pardon my goofy ahh rambles... It gets worse from here

Below the cut are the slightly more glonked up fellas...

//bonked up robots or something exposed wires n shii

//blood but it's green evil robot ooze and poorly drawn

//technically decapitation BUT IT'S FUNNY TRUST ME 💪🥺

Lucius (belongs to @rose-is-fucking-cold) as Evil Rob

Ambrose keeps calling him cunty and I can't disagree... I think everyone should draw Lucius in high heels like right now. Also I'd be mad too if I got my head chopped off like bro now I gotta carry my head around or tape it on... Smh my head. But at least he has high heels those are pretty nice I mean just look at him... Slaying... Here king you dropped this 👑 but good luck keeping it on since you can't even keep your head on Lbozo skill issue (I am so sorry /gen) (I am sleep deprived) (I am mad at Tumblr still) (Tumblr hates me) (I am taking my anger out on Lucius 🙁 /hj)

Fartlord (belongs to @stromboli-muncher) as Evil Joe

It's everyone's favorite ! The man the fart the guy himself ! Eyeless. Well missing one eye because the birds took it. He got attacked by birds this is so tragic can we get an F in the chat guys one like = eye patch for him 👍

And last but not least...

Rosebush (MY guy 😋) as Evil Ross

Bro's mad... Fuckimg chrunchy... Listen I'd be pissed too if I fell down an upstairs escalator and came out looking like this... Like zoinks Scoob ☹️ (Well actually he got PUSHED... 😳) Pro tip: don't fall down upstairs escalators even if you're a dream demon robot you're not invincible to escalators those things are terrifying LIKE HAVE YOU SEEN FINAL DESTINATION????? Yeah never again... Escalators are also a no go. Just use the stairs... EVERYDAY is leg day 🦵🦵

And that's enough of that... El oh el ecks dee ✌️

[existslikepristin]

Okay, so I had someone send me an ask last night and now I've been thinking about it all day. It wasn't anonymous, which I appreciate, but I'm not responding to it directly for because

I reached out already to say I'd do some editing, and I've let them know the rest of what I'm about to rant on below, but I want to make sure at least a few more people see this

I flip flop around on how to say this shit all the time. Like, do I say that everyone's a good writer in their own special way? Do I say that you don't need likes and reblogs for validation? I don't fucking know what to say except for maybe one more thing that I'll reiterate until the day I die with various embellishments that will fade in and out

You. Yes you, the person who's reading this who is also a writer/aspiring writer. Come closer. We share a bond, you and I, so really get in physically close

Art can't be contained, you scrunge

If you don't think whatever you're creating is art, go to a damn museum. Or do a virtual tour. Or google the phrase "modern art". It doesn't matter. You're going to see some shit in there that, I would hope, makes you think the artist was a dipwad

I'm ranting more than I thought I would. Here's a keep reading line

You know who fucking sucks at art? Pablo Picasso.

Look at this absolute pile of bullshit, then look me in the eye, and tell me this isn't the colorized manifestation of an elementary school dropout's Wattpad account

"But ELP, Picasso demonstrated actual working knowledge of anatomy. This is just his AbstRACt sTyLe"

SHUT UP. Nobody asked you, Barbara

Picasso, Piet Mondrian, Andy Warhol. Their artworks are money laundering schemes. Their fame doesn't come from their talent. It comes from obscenely rich people trading blood diamond money for crisp, clean, still-fake money by claiming that poor people "don't get it"

And yet, despite popular opinions being developed because of ridiculous sums of money being pegged up these guys' assholes, artists today still find meaning in their works, tunneling straight through their cognitive dissonance to tell themselves that, no, I actually enjoy staring at blocks of washed out color until my retinas have burnt in just the right spots that I can see an actual human face because an art teacher once told me that these pictures got the most likes on the pre-internet Tumblr

Does that mean people don't actually like this art? Am I trying to tell you you shouldn't like this art? Maybe, but then you'd be obligated to remind me that Churchgirleum Yawjinius is a disgusting assault on your imagination and yet has as many likes as Definitely Real Medicine, which you wouldn't believe was actually written with all the earnestness my void of a chest cavity could muster

Take it from someone who willingly threw away the opportunity for automatic dozens of reblogs and hundreds of likes per post by telling people to fuck themselves (and still gets a bunch for some reason):

The validation is cool, but it's not worth it

The validation does not define what is good or not

What is good or not doesn't even matter

You're not going to make money off this shit

Someone who is genuinely terrible is going to get more validation than you, and is going to flaunt it in your face, and their writing is still somehow going to mean something to way too many people, and it doesn't matter because their soul is just as unfulfilled by the validation as yours is unfulfilled by the lack of it

What is fulfilling is doing something because you can

You are your only source of real validation, no matter what fuzzy dopamines you get from the vapid click of a like button

Oh, and if you do get the validation of Tumblr notes, that doesn't mean your work is shit or you don't deserve love or whatever. Accept it graciously because it's definitely not uncool that people like your shit, but recognize that it's not going to cure your depression

Art is art. We can look at Roman columns and marvel at how their art built modern civilization (though the Romans can fuck themselves IMO (oh wait they literally did haha)), but did it really? Art makes otherwise brutalist architecture tolerable, but the curly Qs at the bases and tops of columns isn't what kept the coliseum from collapsing on thousands of people watching live murder

If you have a story that has overstayed its welcome in your head and needs to be on paper or on a screen, then write the fucking story. Nobody actually cares about the qUaLiTy of your spelling or grammar. They care about being given permission to think about Karina's tits. Do you think their opinion matters?! I mean, they may have great contributions to make on their own, and they should have voting rights, and it's chill if they have something nice to say to you, but the point is that they're already thinking about Karina's tits regardless of your writing. They're just your thralls to manipulate into thinking about Karina's tits in the way that you, the all-powerful artist, want them to think about Karina's tits. If they try to tell you "Karina's tits would have tan lines" then write a whole fic about how Karina is a nudist and has a perfectly even tan, and who's going to argue about it? The idiot who wrote a pedantic comment? No! It's YOU. THE ALL-FUCKING-POWERFUL ARTIST WHO ACTUALLY MADE SOMETHING TO PROVE YOUR POINT WHETHER OR NOT IT IS CORRECT

If you're an artist, then fucking act like one. Embrace the chaos inherent in creativity. Maybe gentleman is vampire. The poison contains joy. We exist in these devastating, beautiful worlds of contradiction in which we hate people and how lonely we are, we crave kindness and embody violence, and we beg the universe to give us direction despite knowing full well that we're going to zigzag between paths. Maybe you relate. Maybe you don't. THAT'S THE POINT. You're not right. I'm not right. We both write (wow, bars)

I keep saying that everyone should just write, and it's not because I think everyone is secretly a good writer. It's because someone out there needs permission to write after being told their entire lives that their value lies in A, or they're not good if B by all the non-artists in who genuinely don't understand why someone needs to make something impractical to begin the infinitely long road to completion

The dumb fucks who don't understand want to contain you because it's in their nature to desire order. They like to come up with metrics to categorize what counts as art and what doesn't so they can change the rules on you. Chaos always wins though

So WRITE. The world doesn't need your artistry. YOU DO. If you write a bunch of shit and people like it but you quit anyway or nobody likes it and you quit, then idk. Maybe you weren't an artist in the first place, which is perfectly fine, or maybe you're giving your corporate overlords too much control over your mind. If you're an artist, you'll burn with the need to create, no matter how much you create. If you feel that, keep writing

[ashara-rise]

Im starting a Fic for C.A.S i hope ya like it!!!!!

@somerandomdudelmao I finally finished chap 1!!! I hope u like it!! Explanation:What If during the fight (during preset time) Casey was infected/poisoned by the Krang while helping keep them at bay while Leo was fighting Krang? But it didn't affect him quickly due to F!Draxum always feeding Casey Ancient Demonic Flowers?

-"Oh no...no no no no no no NO!"- Casey was standing Infront of the sink staring at what he had coughed up, the fear entering his body -"Krang..."- on his hand was HIS BLOOD right!? then why the hell was there that same haunting color the day Uncle Tello told us of his illness, it didn't make sense!! *His whole body was trembling*

-"I can't let them know. well not now at least not until I know what going on. I don't want to make them all worry like how they worried for Uncle Tello..."- What was he supposed to do!? who could he go to!? He can't go to his uncles or their Past Selves!

Then it hit him. Draxum. He'll go to Draxum. -"He must know something right? But how am I going to get to him without Uncles finding out? I'm sure Uncle Tello has a tracker on me. I'll find it then leave to Draxum's"- He washed the blood from his hands then started searching himself.

_-30 Mins Laters-_

He found the Tracker at last! that took way longer than expected. He packed his things and left the Track in his bed with pillows to seem like he was just sleeping then he snuck off, it was late anyway they would all be asleep but just in case he snuck out extra quietly.

"Made it!" He was standing in front of Draxum's spare lab sense his uncles had taken residence in his other one, He knocked on the door waiting rather impatiently for it to open.

*Creaaakkk* "What do you want child." It was Draxum in his robe with a mug of coffee in hand, He was looking down towards Casey.

"Mister Draxum PLEASE help!! I was coughing then it got really bad!thenIcoughedupbloodanditwasthekrangIthinkandimscared-" Draxum shoved it finger in Casey's face to stop his rambling before speaking himself "Can you calm down and speak normally I can't understand that utter nonsense, use a simple sentence to describe what I'm dealing with."

"I think the Krang infected me with something during the fight and now im really worried." Casey looked to Draxum almost in tears but fighting it back Draxum stared at him blankly before going back to a stern gaze and shoving him inside his lab. "Casey Come. Tell me the Detail"

Casey followed him before being seated in a odd looking chair and being questioned about details on he's health

_-After Casey Explained-_

"Ok Casey I will get in a large amount of trouble with your uncles but let run some tests and find out what's going on." Draxum was grabbing some needles of different sizes

"D-do you really need THAT many needles...!?" Casey looked in horror at the amount

"Yes. i need blood samples of many sizes to figure out what going on. Now sit still and stop complaining this will take a long time." Draxum moved towards Casey with a needle in hand

_-Back with the F!Turtles-_

Leo and Donnie, we're the first ones up today with Donnie checking the security and Leo finding something to eat, It over felt like a normal morning but something felt off..

not long after Mikey and Raph woke up, Mikey went to cook seeing as Leo was failing again to make some actually edible to eat and not burnt to a crisp. It was around and hour until Raph asked the question. "Hey Were's Casey?? Raph's not seen him all morning." He looked to Leo and Donnie who were arguing about something stupid, both looked up at Raph and Mikey popped his head in from the kitchen then it hit them all.

Casey wasn't up.

no wonder it felt off. Donnie checks his tracker, "Casey Jr is still sleeping by the looks of where he is" Mikey left the kitchen volunteering to wake him up.

Not long after he came running back yelling "CASEY IS GONE!" This got everyone's attention and in unison they all screamed "WHAT"

"No that can't be Casey Jr's tracker says he's there did you look properly Angelo??" Donnie looked at Mikey, Mikey shot him a look. "Of course I did! Plus look at what I found under his blankets!" Mikey held up the small tracker which caused a look of confusion and concern in Donnie and the others.

"How could Case even get it off D? Don't you hide them really good?? I haven't even found mine!" Leo exclaimed

"I don't know Leo! It shouldn't be possible unless he was actively looking for it!" Donnie was not looking through the camera footage until he saw it, Casey had snuck out but to where was the question

They all split up after that and where to meet up after an hour of searching for Casey

_-1 Hour later-_

No luck. Not with their counterparts, April, nor the main place in the Yokai City. Where could he be. They were all together thinking on places he could have gone. then they remembered they hadn't checked with one person.

Draxum.

Link: A Shocking Discovery - Chapter 1 - Ashara_Rise - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

[elfcyclopedia]

Fic Lines! Tag Game~

• • • • •

Thanks @thana-topsy by tagging me :3 And therefore recognizing me as a fellow writer even though I still haven't posted anything online. Yet.

The fragments are from two fanfics I'm working on, both telling the story of Ildari Sarothril from her perspecive. They are namely:

"She Looks so Beautiful in Her Grave: A Prelude" and "Ashes Feed My Revenge"

As I said, I haven't posted them yet. But if you get interested feel free to dm me, I'll gladly share my work so far with you :3

• • • • •

Ok, so here we go:

A line from your fic that makes you sad

He looked around the graveyard once again. The dawn greeted him with shy, pinkish rays dispersed in the morning mist. Lighting the sea, the grave… The beautiful and deadly nightshades painted ornate, slender shadows on the ash. The dawn, the time of the Mother of Roses. Silver tears filled his eyes. Oh what a lowly mortal he is, in the face of death, in the face of the Gods. He leapt down on his knees, facing the rising sun, and prayed, prayed ardently being sorry for Azura, Boetiah and Mephala for what he’s about to do. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help it!

(from "She Looks so Beautiful in Her Grave: A Prelude")

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

Master fucking Neloth. Ulves’ face was hued red with anger. It was him who killed her. He coaxed Ildari into performing some unfortunate experiment on her. Two days ago Ulves floated up into the main tower to bring his master food when he casually informed him to dig a fresh grave. His blood boiled from the sole thought of it. He wished to kill him with his whole heart. But he felt so powerless. The old sly wizard would fry him down to a crisp before he could even unsheathe his axe. The only option would be poisoning his meal… but it was very probable that this ash-sucker would survive somehow. And that would mean the end of Ulves’ life. And even if his master, what would that change? There was nothing that Ulves wanted to do after that.

(from "She Looks so Beautiful in Her Grave: A Prelude")

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

Imagine silence. But in its foulest form. The silence that is only found in places of death, sending shivers down the spines of the living. The stillness of a burnt-down village. The void that fills the space after a man has uttered their last words. Somewhere, all among that silence a faint sound could be heard. Ildari’s heart started beating.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic you're proud of

And there she was outside, barely treading, yet irate enough to kick the ash left and right with a sour grimace. The grim landscape stretched before her - all was only ash and burned-down trees, with suggestions of the shoreline and the mountains of the other side. But they were distant, covered by the thick clouds of wind-swept ash. […] As much as she hated the musty air in the tower, outside it wasn’t much better. Even though the wind was merely a breeze, she already choked a few times on the ash that got inside of her windpipe.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

Her mind was failing her, it was like a barren soil that couldn’t hold onto any seeds of thought, and certainly not let them develop. After a whole eternity of torment, she couldn’t help but close her eyes.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

“Knock, knock! Can I come in?” chirped Niyya right outside the door of her room. That was weird. She was getting suspiciously friendly so quickly. Well, so far it was harmless. She’s probably one of those people that take all of their life’s pleasures in serving the others and have the reputation of a saint in the society - unless you are the one they are actually helping - then they become really annoying.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic you think could have been better

“Is everything all right?” How dare she ask such a question? Of course it wasn’t! Just look at her.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

[I don't feel like I've ever written one, sorry ): ]

A line from your fic that's shocking WARNING: suicidal ideation

She put the book down and covered her face with hands. It only takes so much to strip a man off the will to live. What if the voices are never going to subside? And the pain? She can’t live like that! What will she do? Will there be anything to live for? She imagined herself, lifeless, half-buried in ash, like this poor young Bosmer necromancer not unlike her, rotting away - only to be found by a flabbergasted traveller that wouldn’t even have the guts to give the final rites. No voices would be heard then. No pain would trouble her. Not a single tormenting thought would ever cross her mind. Tempting. She heard footsteps coming.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

“Um… Ildari” Niyya hesitated. ”I think you are… pretty.” The Redguard’s face turned dark red. Now Ildari understood why Niyya was so suspiciously friendly. But, she was a girl - a mere miner for damn’s sake. And there she was, making goo-goo eyes at her. Ildari wanted to puke.

(from "Ashes Feed My Revenge")

• • • • •

I don't know much fellow writers (yet) but I feel like @katastronoot and @greyborn2 might come up with something interesting :3

[whoovesnassistant]

Skit Contest Entry 18

“The Doctor Rests” - By Queen Tut

Mechanical beeps and boops and sound off softly in the distance, The snores of a pony start quiet and grow slowly louder. And louder. It’s the Doctor, of all ponies. The snoring grows loud enough to be genuinely obnoxious. Then the snoring starts to fade until only a chilling, heart stopping ambience remains. This is no ordinary white noise. It’s the sort of ambience that can make your blood boil with dread.

Doctor Am I… sleeping? His voice echoes across the void. In the distance several voices from his past scream and cry out. Screams of pain from the monsters he’s killed. Cries of betrayal from the friends he’s left behind. The noise blends into chatter, but the agony is inescapable for the time being. Doctor Darn these blasted nightmares. Ah well! Nothing a little lucid dreaming couldn’t fix. *takes deep, dramatic breath* There is silence. The painful noises then continue. Doctor What? I… I don’t understand. That usually does the trick, doesn’t it? ??? What’s the matter? Can’t ignore them, can you? The voice sounds like the Doctor. Yet it’s… wrong. It’s distorted. Broken. Cruel. (sound effect department gets to have fun with this) Doctor Oh, what are you supposed to be? Some kind of wise guy, eh? ??? HA HA HA… I guess you wouldn’t recognise yourself now, would you? Doctor *hesitates then laughs* Oh, come now, you must be joking. Whatever you are, I have no need of you. So you’d best be on your way. Alright then, where was I? Oh, yes! Just closing my eyes until the scenery changes. Won’t be long until my subconscious mind properly connects to my consciousness. When it does you’ll be gone and I’ll be someplace far nicer. Perhaps a beachy region from one of the planets in Mare’s Head Nebula, or a field of mutated flowers near the 47th quadrant. Yeah. that sounds absolutely lovely for a pleasant night in dreamland…

Another silence sits as his monologue ends. ??? *super loud now* How’s that working for you?

Doctor *breathes harshly, slightly startled* This doesn’t make any sense. You should be gone by now. Why are you still here? ??? Oh Doctor… you simply can’t live without getting your way, can you? Doctor Who do you think you are anyway? ??? Ha… how many times must we repeat ourselves? Forever it seems? Eventually you must realize that this time you really are without an option to pray for. The agonizing voices continue to echo and reverberate as the two of them talk. Doctor *glups before speaking, allowing a bit of uncertainty to enter his tone* Right. Repetitive. I’m going to ask this again. Who are you? ??? I’ve told you. I’m you, little worthless wretch. The mirror you’d never look into. The parts of yourself you don’t show. Your… guilt. Doctor *nervous laugh* What guilt? Dark Doc *even more horrifying voice effects* The ones you’ve killed. The ones that cannot be saved. The friends that warned you of the monster in the reflection who went unheard. Unlistened to. I. Am. You. The voices in the background get stronger. Some of them are recognizable. Clockwork, the Doctor who saw our green tied felloe for his darkest self. Pistol, crying for both the life he lost and the one he never got to have. Mita, the pony who died inches from the TARDIS doors. Doctor *actually a little disturbed now* No… no… you’re lying. You have to be. Dark Doc Do you still remember the taste of… *enjoying his words a little too much* those… RIVERS of blood… filling our pores. That mossy metal taste of the blood of the Jabberwock’s kin? A snap with no known source breaks up his words briefly as he goes on. Utterly unfazed. Dark Doc OOOOOOOHHHHHH………… how about that STENCH? The… *inhales* saccharine sweet, burnt crispness…of what we left of those sycophants of Gallifrey… HA HA HA…oh… how it frayed… eh? After what we did… gone like a bunch of baked sugar cookies, really. The voices are still in the background, screaming to the doctor in their torment. Doctor *tiny, nearly inaudible whimpering* Dark Doc Oh there’s that other time when-*cuts off* Doctor *completely and totally freaking unhinged* NO. NO! YOU… you do not get the PRIVILEGE of housing in this place. GO BACK TO THE DEPTHS WHERE YOU BELONG… you… VILE… ARROGANT TRAITO- *cuts off* Suddenly there’s a loud smack. The Doctor gags, coughing, sputtering, and without respite. There’s a struggle. A double heartbeat resonates with ominous reverb. TH-thumpthump. TH-thumpthump. TH-thumpthump. Dark Doc That sound… in our chest. Do you…recall the children… who grew silent *starts whispering* as they rested against our… beating… chest? Doctor *struggling, gagging, even gasping* Sss…sssss…sst-top. TH-thumpthump. TH-thumpthump. The hearts keep beating. The voices around him are louder. More powerful. Unceasing. Eventually… everything around the Doctor… becomes nothing more than awful noise. Doctor *hyperventilates* The hearts thump still. The voices linger. Longer. Then longer still. Then they simply stop. There’s only the thrashing of frantic hooves against a mattress. Then a thud as the Doctor’s body hits the floor. He gasps and heaves as a slight squelching squishes. Followed by a sickening, grinded munching. A chilling hiss emits from the creature in his ear. Doctor *inhales deeply* GET OFF. GET OFF. Get off. I need you to get off! LEAVE!!! A squish-smack comes from the thing as it falls against the floor.This is followed by violent smashing. Bam. Bam. Bam. Then silence. Doctor *heaves loud, his breath shaking and fragile, almost sounds like he’s crying* Sonic Screwdriver sound effect. Doctor P-p-p-paras-s-site. Must… have… picked up… from… m-moon. Feeds on… s-s-suffering. Venom designed to alter neural connectivity in order to maximize resources for… feeding. Most effective when host is asleep. Symptoms include uncontrollable nightmares and psychological distress. It’s quiet again. But only for a while. Doctor Ha ha… hehe… *more painful and disturbed with each syllable* HA HA HA HE HEH HEHE HEH! Hoof steps crawl through the TARDIS now. Wobbling. Slow. Like a foal taking its first steps. The door creaks. Paper flicks against wood. Doctor Is… this… a note? Doctor hears Derpy’s voice reading the note in his head. Derpy Hey Doctor. Me and Tick saw you were taking a nap. We didn’t want to wake you since I know you don’t sleep often, but I wanted to let you know that Tick Tock found a hurt cat outside the TARDIS. She’s a bit funny. And she does glow sometimes. And she might be from space? Maybe? We’re not too sure. ANyway, she’s very sweet so we thought it would be okay to watch over her for a while until she gets better. Hope you don’t mind and that you had a nice restful sleepy time!Lots of hugs, Ditzy Doo. P.S. Oops, meant to sign off as Derpy Hooves. My bad! Doctor *weak, resigned* Huh. Cat Meow? Doctor steps forward slowly and another door creaks open. He can hear Tick Tock’s gentle snoring and Derpy’s relaxed breath. Doctor They… must have fallen asleep. In the same bed even. Silence. Profound silence. Doctor At least… they have each other… right?

Cat Meow! Cat Mrow! Cat Mew. Silence. Skit ends.

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Burn

This isn’t my best work, its a little experimental and very short but for some reason I have a deep desire to just post it as is, so here you go. 

CW: Blood, death, fire, missing person

~

Something had been wrong for weeks now, or perhaps it was something very right. The air had shifted, thicker yet sharper, confusing in a tantalising way. Villain’s world had fallen silent, no whispers in the world of Hero’s, no secret missions reaching their ear, no information at all. It was as if all the Heroes had just vanished.

Villain searched, casually at first, frantically after, when the world really had seemed empty. Not literally, no, there were still plenty of civilians to torment, people to spread fear within, turn over to the supposed dark side. But Villain didn’t care about them. They cared about the Heroes. They cared about Hero.

And when things got desperate Villain was not afraid to take the leap, to break their own rules. The Heroes’ castle was a place of extremely high security, somewhere you only messed with if you were prepared to die along the way. Not that the general public was aware of that, they only got to see the arrest side of it, not the execution block out back.,

At least the Villains’ compound killed you outright, they weren’t afraid to show their true colours.

And they aren’t afraid to show the growing uncertainty on their face, the dread. Smoke billowed out of the castle, sections of walls blown out, guards burnt to crisps, exploded into gooey bits. It was a complete and utter massacre.

Villain walked through carefully, avoiding rubble and fire and pools of blood, but after a while they had to give up that feat.

Their voice found them before they found it.

“Hero?”

The sound was swallowed in the swirl of light and dark, fire burning through curtains, crackling on wooden supports. This was still recent, this had just happened. How had they not known? How had no one known?

They swallowed thick saliva, their tongue drying against the roof of their mouth as they breathed in the hot air and fear.

“Hero?”

They moved faster through the mess, dancing through the shadows to avoid the struggle across rubble. Their voice made it further then they expected.

Detecting movement was hard but a figure seemed to shift up ahead, standing much more upright then the ones around Villain. They moved, melting into darkness and travelling like a wispy smoke.

The figure whipped around with a flash of burning light as Villain reformed and the fire stopped centimetres from their face. They stared through it, as best they could, at the eyes they barely recognised.

“Hero?” An actual question now.

Hero lowered the fire, their gaze lifeless and hateful.

“Villain…” their voice sounded surprised to whatever degree they were currently capable.

The relief that flood Villain was borderline overwhelming. A wash of relaxation and a hint of excitement that brought a smile Villain couldn’t fight. They found their hero, but also they found their hero changed.

“What happened?”

Villain looked about them, at the death and chaos, the apocalypse they had always dreamed of. Hero didn’t look, didn’t move. Villain’s gaze returned to Hero.

“Did you do this?”

It was a stupid question, but Villain wanted to hear the answer noen the less. Hero was covered heard to toe in dry blood, their clothes were torn, charred, fire still blazing in their hands. This massacre was theirs, no questions, many questions but no doubt.

“Is this not what you have always wanted?” Hero’s voice sounded so distant, as if they weren’t truly in their body. Villain doubted it they were even aware of themself right now.

“Yes, I have dreamt of this day for years, but you haven’t,” Villain cupped Hero’s chin, examined Hero’s bloody face.

“I want them to burn…”

“It seems you have succeeded at that.”

“I want them all to burn.” Hero said, “everyone.”

“Now you are sounding like me,” Villain’s head tilts, “what happened?”

Hero stares off, watching things Villain isn’t privy to. It fuels the fire around them, their hands burning brighter.

“They deserve it.”

Villain watches them, smiles.

“Yes they do.”

“I want to burn the world.”

“I can see that.”

“Will you help me?”

“Of course I will, what kind of friend do you think I am?”

Shadows dance around them, rising of the fires, putting them out as they knit together, growing thicker and strong before encompassing them both entirely.

[moeruhoshi]

A cute story while I'm sad

Lucy pursed her lips, staring at the brew bubbling away in her cauldron.

"Ugh...I knew synthetic dragon's blood wouldn't work." She groaned, turning away from her concoction. It was a love spell for a friend, though Lucy didn't like making them.

But Juvia was persistent, even bringing in a recipe she borrowed from a sea witch she knew.

Lucy didn't like using other people's work, but she didn't have anything like this in her repertoire.

It focused more on bringing out someone's true thoughts and desires for another. Gray was the perfect candidate.

Lucy rolled her eyes, but couldn't say no. Juvia deserved to hear what he really felt, though Gray also deserved to be kept in his right mind. And the only way to tweak the spell properly would be with dragons blood.

The only problem was, was that the blood was so unbelievably rare. Of course it was, who would ever be lucky enough to get their hands on it? You'd only ever see a dragon if you were stupid, everyone avoided them like the plague. It was a death sentence to even think about getting anywhere near where they lived.

Synthetic dragon's blood was popular, strong enough to replace the real thing if need be. Obviously not in her case.

Lucy chewed on her lip, there was no way she was going to die for a stupid love spell.

It felt cruel to leave Juvia’s situation unhandled, especially when everyone knew he was crazy about her.

And, technically, she knew where a dragon lived.

It was pure coincidence that she came across their home, something that she found while out on a hike looking for elderberries.

There was a poorly constructed sign poking out of the ground, old wood carved into with a shaky hand.

'Dragon territory. Turn back now.'

Lucy didn't think twice, hopping on her broom and getting the heck out of dodge. She wanted to die a normal death, thank you very much.

Lucy mulled it over, wondering if she went in with the right protection, maybe there would be no harm in asking. Or, maybe she'd get lucky and find some blood lying around from a scratch they'd accidentally given themselves.

A magic protection spell...and maybe an anti-squishing spell? So they couldn't stomp her to death. Or chew on her body...or drop her from a thousand feet in the air.

"Juvia really owes me now..." Lucy grumbled, securing the bag on her hip, making sure her wand wouldn't fall out. She walked outside, bracing the sunlight as she whistled for her broom.

She heard it cut through the wind, stopping abruptly below her waist, Lucy turning to seat herself sideways.

"We're booking it if anything goes wrong, don't forget that."

The closer she got, the more she wondered if she should turn around. No one knew what kind of magic a dragon used until they met them, not to say there were many survivors.

While dragons who used magic relating to earthly elements were more well known, there were scarier powers within their grasp.

Blood, darkness, space, crystals...things that not even a powerful witch like herself would know how to properly defend against.

"Juvia really freakin' owes me now."

It wasn't long before she was hovering over the ground, finding the same sign poking out from a bush.

She took in a deep breath before proceeding forward, tightening her grip on the handles.

The woods ahead were incredibly quiet, a distinct lack of birds chirping or animals rustling as they ran by.

There was a distinct smell of hot air and burnt wood coming downwind, Lucy feeling her stomach turn over.

"Just great...a fire dragon..."

They were some of the wildest, most erratic beasts around. Probably the worst out of all the elements she could've come across. Couldn't it have been a nice water dragon? Drowning sounded better than getting burnt to a crisp.

Even chaos dragons kept their distance from fire elements. They just weren't worth the trouble.

Lucy reminded herself that she could go home, there was still ample time to escape with her body intact. But that small glimmer of hope for a successful outcome kept her motivated. She was a good friend, how lovely.

She floated slowly toward the smell, figuring the stronger it was, the closer she was.

[ellievickstar]

Confirmation comes Confrontation (Part 6  of 8)

Ship:Eris x Reader

Warnings: Nothing but angst this round it’s a really long chapter

Previous parts:Rejection (Part 1), His Second Option (Part 2), A Shock and A Secret (Part 3), Chaos and Conspiracies (Part 4), Theories and Possibilities (Part 5)

Shit. We were in knee-deep shit. “Get Tarquin!” I shouted at Rhys before I raced down the hallway. Eris. His name was a song in my blood and I felt it then, the thrum of a bond in my chest tugging me towards him. I shoved servants aside, excusing myself as I cause buckets to fall over. No one minded as they knew where I was going, the whole manor had to know what was happening by now. By the time I got to the Healers’ Wing, Tarquin was there containing the flames but not completely dousing them. 

“I need help!” Tarquin bellowed, he must have used his powers earlier if he had been so close to the burn out, I knew I could help but I barely mastered flame, let alone water. 

Breathe. Feyre’s voice entered my mind, you are water, you are not afraid. That’s right. The water is mine to control, why should I be afraid of it. Despite the flames, the bellowing, I drowned the noise out as I gathered that part of my power and pictured a shield of water around myself, closing my eyes. By the time my eyes opened once more, a clear layer of water had surrounded me. Inching toward the flames, I walked through, testing my shield. Unscathed, I had walked through the flames completely unscathed. 

I released a breathe of relief as I began to make my way to Eris through the violent flames coming from him and when I reached him, I let go of my shield, not caring about being burnt anymore as I reached out a hand on his burning cheek and called his name. 

“Eris,” my tone was soft, gentle, “Come back to me,” I continued. His eyes looked as if they looked far beyond as he turned to me, “Y/N?” His voice was raspy, I could barely hear it over the commotion, “I’m here,” I promised, “Come back to me,” I repeated. Clarity returned to his eyes as the flames began to die down, Tarquin was gawking at me, he must have seen my magic but I ignored him as Eris pulled me into a hug, tugging me onto the cot that was someone how not burnt to the crisp. Healers begun crowding the room checking on burns, Tarquin rejected any treatment before approaching me, still beside Eris. 

“Your magic,” Tarquin gulped as he saw me playing with water butterflies while Eris was being reviewed by the Healer, “It’s like mine,” he admitted as I glanced at him and back at the butterfly before it disappeared. Without saying a word I snapped a finger, I flower made of pure flame floated above my open palm. He gaped at the flower, jaw practically crashing down on the ground. 

“Close you mouth if not you going to catch a fly,” Was all I said as I changed the flower to a boy, bringing my hands together, cupping my palms as a little girl made of water and a boy made of flame dance with each other. Tarquin just closed his mouth and walked away, conversation over. I played with my magic while waiting for Eris, fascinated that I could suddenly grip the leash on my magic so well, from water animals to springs of flame I made everything I could think of. 

Once Eris was ready to leave the Healers’ Wing we strode down the hall together. Word had arrived that Miryam and Drakon had come to the Autumn Court, Miriam was ready to help her old best friend, ex-lovers or no. Although Eris felt like it was a terrible idea to gamble our chance of survival against this conflict with Jurian’s ex of all people. 

“Miryam,” I greeted curtsying to the half fae half mortal, Queen of Cretea,” Drakon,” I nodded towards the male. He bowed back, Eris stiffened at my side but I tightened my grip on his hand. “Let us walk in the gardens, the trees are nice this time of year, there are matters we need to discuss,” Thankfully they both agreed. After the second war with Hybern the both were suspicious of the Autumn court, they hated Beron, of course, but chose to believe that the apple fell far from that tree, for now, and we planned to keep it that way.

Eris eventually left with Drakon, both wanting to meet with the other males while Miryam preferred to continue walking. As we talked we realised that we were more alike then we think, talking about the difference between Fae and Mortals. From stiff conversation we managed to flow into a smooth chat about the things we loved from the different lives we lead.

Just then the wind shifted. Not physically but I could feel it, that sense of doom in my gut as Miryam stilled, scanning our surrounding. Right as Jurian appeared right in front of the both of us, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“Hello High Lady of the Autumn Court,” he purred, eyeing me before turning his attention to Miryam, “Oh look! You brought my dear Miryam with you, tell me where were you all these years?” His eyes glinted with that mad gleam. “I left after you started to neglect me,” She stated, “we are no longer lovers,” Jurian’s faced emitted pure rage as he spat, “You left me for Drakon, you hated me!” “Because you were hateful!” She snapped back. “No,” Jurian breathed, eyes still full of that anger, “You fell in love with someone else, you betrayed me for my best friend!” And what I saw in his eyes flickering was what looked to be, human. “You were hateful, controlling and manipulative,” She argued, trying to sway Jurian, “I was trying to protect you, from Amarantha, from Hybern,” He argued right back. “And why couldn’t I leave? I never betrayed you, you weren’t even spending time at home anymore why couldn’t I fall in love again? I am happy with Drakon now, why can’t you move on?” She reasoned, “Do not mention his name,” He spat, any sign of humanity gone from his eyes again.

Miryam faltered for a second.

“What has happened to you?” She asked, though it was not entirely a question, “I remember the sweet boy when we were younger or even just before the war, who made me laugh and gave me gifts,” Tears had begun their way from her eyes down her cheeks, “Who loved art and music,” She added, swallowing again, “I wanted to be just like you,” She admitted eyes falling looking down at her feet before rising to look at him again, “How could you have fallen so far?” Her voice cracked. She looked away as she wiped her eyes, not wanting to look at her once best friend, now gone mad. However, the raw emotion that contorted on Jurian’s face as if he had just realised what he had done made him stumble back before disappearing. Miryam chocked on a sob as I enveloped her in a hug, walking her back to the castle. I knew wha it was like to lose a best friend, I never knew Azriel very well but he always made sure to take care of the ones he cared about. After the rejection I could have hardly recognised his cold demeanour, how he carried himself until after I left for the Autumn Court.

Maybe one day I would rekindle my friendship with Azriel, after the problem with Jurian was solved, but the look on Jurian’s face before he left. Maybe there didn’t need to be a conflict.

A/N: I thought of so many variations of “said” that my brain is dead right now 💀

Next part is out now!

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128

[dabilove27]

How Far We've Come

Paring: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Smut (female-receiving oral), A Cocky Dabi, Cussing, A lot of Pet Names

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile Apocalypse Collab! If you have the time check out some of the other amazing pieces! Everyone has worked so hard to make some beautiful fics!

Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading, encouraging, brainstorming, and helping me the whole way from start to finish. I have said it before but I will say it again. You are absolutely amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without you! 💜 Also thank you @/deathcab4daddy (not sure if you want to be tagged) for taking the time to read through and for your advice!

You've seen all those movies, the decaying zombie hoards, the massive explosions that wipe out nations, or an unexpected illness that mysteriously kills off the population. But you had never really expected for any of those apocalyptic things to become true in your own world.  They were just fiction, never something that could actually occur. Yet here you are faced with the reality of a hoard of rotting zombies. Like you have been thrown into one of the many movies or TV shows yourself.

People aren't even sure how it happened, especially in a world full of quirks where this should be somewhat controlled, right? Wrong, whatever caused this zombie apocalypse also seemed to nullify quirks over time. There was so much speculation whether it came into the water supply or passed through the air. But none of that really seems to matter anymore when you are fighting for your life every day.

And as the mass of decaying, walking corpses steps closer and closer to you, it seems like your end is near too. The smell of organs exposed to the air and sun stink up the room.  You can see the blank, milky white eyes of the undead that somehow can still find you even though they can't really see.  You've had a partner, at least—the man who has stood with you during this entire shit show.

He stands close to you, a single rusted knife covered in stagnant blood, not nearly enough even combined with whatever you could find for fighting off the seemingly endless mindless bodies coming your way. He's covered in burn scars and rusted staples that pull at his healthy skin. People used to jab at him for looking like the walking dead before all this went down.  His firepower from before would have solved this problem in an instant. This rotting mob wouldn't have stood a chance.

But instead, it looks like it's the conclusion for the two of you. Memories flash through your mind. A memory of escaping the daily struggle of your mundane life by sharing take-out on your old couch.  Or how his kisses always felt like burning flames against your lips.  Your regular life consisted of trying to numb the pain of the past with alcohol or working endless hours.  Even though you didn’t have a traditional relationship where you could go on public dates, being in a relationship with a well-known villain was worlds better than this. But if you were going to die, at least it was together. Solidarity in times like this seems to help the never-ending dread that the Reaper looming around every corner ready to take you.  Every moment in this new hell had you wished you had more time to develop your romance with him instead of the tragedy that was about to befall you. You wished you had more time with this romance and that it wouldn't end in tragedy. It's hard to believe that there was ever a time when you couldn't stand this man, but even now, that's a fond memory for you.  You would give anything to return to that old bar where the two of you met and relive all of these memories.

It really isn't a surprise that you met Dabi in a dark, run-down bar near Kamino.  No, not the "bar" run by Kurogiri; everyone who lived in this area knew that it was just a setup. This bar is a tiny little hole in the wall with paint chipping off the walls and where the seats were hardly held together anymore, but that didn't really matter to people who lived in this area. You didn't come to this bar for a luxury experience.

The main reason people came to this bar was its location.  It sat deep in a seedy area which meant no police patrolling nearby so you wouldn’t need to look over your shoulder constantly.  Plus, the cheap liquor was enticing enough.

Every Friday night, you were perched on one of the worn-out bar stools as you nursed your gin and tonic.  This was your place to unwind after another hellish week of your mundane job.  It was still early enough in the evening that the bar wasn't thoroughly packed with bodies trying to get their drink.  The music was still soft,  later it would blare whatever song was currently sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. You were able to turn your brain off and listen to other patrons' mindless chatter in the background.  You could just sip your drink, maybe take a shot or two if you felt like, and then head home to pass out.

You relished this little getaway, an oasis in the slums that made up your small world.  The bartender and regular patrons didn't bother you, so you could have your own peace.  But your Eden got interrupted by a cocky, fire-wielding asshole who had set his sights on you.

You didn't stir when said asshole plopped himself down in the barstool next to you with a thump.  It wasn't until the jerk actually spoke to you that you were brought out of your mindless daydreaming.

"Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing in a place like this?"  He said with a smooth tone.  You didn't even have to look at him to know he had an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is? The irritated thought instantly pops into your head.  Anyone who frequented this bar knew you were from around here.  You weren't some soft, delicate flower that wasn't supposed to be "on this side of town."  Preparing yourself by putting on your best "I'm not interested face," you maneuvered your body to face him, ready to tell him off.

Your words caught in your throat as your eyes met his two endless pools of cerulean.  Your gaze shifted to take in the burnt skin clinging onto the shining staples that were rooted in his healthy skin. A familiar black coat spread across his frame that was even more recognizable than those eyes, and the patronizing smile that you wanted to slap off his face. As much as you wanted to throw up your middle finger at him and tell him off, you knew who this was. Hell, everyone knew who this was.

The League of Villains didn't necessarily keep quiet around here. They didn't have to. This is the area where they recruited people to join them. You didn't just flick off and ignore a LOV member. Especially the infamous Dabi, who wasn't really known for his kindness or compassion. More for his ability to burn anyone who defied The League to a crumbling crisp.

But still, who did this asshole think he is? Waltzing in here like he owned it and saddling down into your escape from the world only to tell you that you don't look like you should be here?  Fuck that nonsense, League member or not.

You swallow down a bit of the initial anger as your eyes narrow into a glare at the cocky asshole.  "Thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in being involved with the League. So if you don't mind going somewhere else to scout, that would be great." You try to say without a tremble in your voice as you wave your hand in a "shoo" motion.

You aren't sure what you expect Dabi to do next., burn down the whole bar you included? Tell you that you have no choice but to join, and you're coming with him? Rip you out of your seat and reprimand you for disrespecting The League? But instead, none of those things happen.  Instead, he does something you don't expect, and his grin grows a little wider as the staples begin to pull more at his healthy flesh.

You can feel your anxiety rising. Get out, get out, get out, this asshole will kill you, leave NOW, your mind is practically sending off every warning signal it can.

Your chest tightens when Dabi lets out a low chuckle. "Oh no, sweetheart, you've got it all wrong."  He says with a dark tone. "I'm not recruiting you for work. My interest in you is personal."  Dabi points at you and then at himself and finishes with an infuriating smirk that seems to be mocking you.  He's moved his hand and placed it on your forearm that was resting on the smooth bar top.

A shiver runs through you as the mismatched textures of his skin and the cool metal of the staples.  You feel your anger bubbling up again.  How dare this jerk think that you will just fall for him like a desperate fangirl.  You are livid at this point, frustration coursing through your veins, fuck the niceties and preservation. He needed to be put in his place.

"I know you think you are some big shot because The League is doing so well right now but fuck off asshole.  I'm not a League groupie that will just kneel down and suck your dick just because you want it." You spit out at him while shrugging off his hand and moving your body to face the way you were initially sitting. Grasping your drink and lifting it to your lips, you try and down what was left so you could leave immediately, any extra moment around Dabi was a moment you didn't want to have.

You were sure Dabi would have given up or at least killed you by now. You can't imagine that he is used to being rejected by women.  He's handsome in a way that doesn't fit with the norm.  He fills in that bad boy check-list like it's his job, which it practically is given his profession.  Again though, Dabi surprises you with his response. He doesn't yell, he doesn't use his quirk, and he doesn't kill you. He lets out another dark chuckle like he's enjoying this and continues the conversation you had tried to cut off.

"I didn't say anything about sucking dick, but if you're offering, who am I to turn down a gift?"  That smooth tone is back as he moves his hand to your hair and runs it through his fingers.

Bewilderment overcomes you, and you can't even stop yourself before you are turned towards him again, glass in your hand, ready to throw what's left of your drink on him.

As if he anticipated the response, Dabi moves quickly and grabs your wrist in a tight grip.  "Now, why would you want to waste what you have left, doll? That's not a very smart choice." His grip tightens a little more around your wrist, and you can feel the staples begin to dig into your skin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He moves your hand back down to the bar but doesn't let go even after your glass has left your hand.  "There we go, good girl.  Now let's talk just a bit." He says sweetly, loosening his grip just a bit, but not enough for you to move your hand.

If looks could kill, Dabi would have died a cruel death by now. You are seething at this point.  But instead, you're stuck there as he continues to do whatever it is that he’s trying to accomplish.  "What were you drinking?  I'll buy you another one and then leave, okay doll?"  He says playfully and with a cunning grin on his face as you mumble out your drink order.  You just want him to leave, and you really hope he plans on keeping his word.

Dabi motions for the bartender's attention, gives your drink order and plops a few bills on the bartop. He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and each and every moment he is even touching you, you can feel your annoyance continuing to build.  You want to ask him if he's done yet and will kindly get the fuck out, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes the cat and mouse game, which would just lengthen the amount of time he sticks around.

The bartender finally delivers your drink, and it takes everything in you not to rip your wrist out of his grasp and grab the new glass to pour over Dabi's head.  "Okay, one last question, and then I'll leave."  He drawls out as you put all your focus into the condensation forming on your glass.  You stay silent, waiting for his stupid question so you can move on and never see him again.  Dabi continues with that condesending tone that is starting to cause your head to ache, "How often do you come here? I'd love to see you again."

Your heartbeat picks up, and little shots of adrenaline start to flow through you as you contemplate how to respond. Of course, you don't want this asshole to know when you come here. This is your escape from the world. You never want to even see Dabi again,  but something from this interaction tells you Dabi isn't going to give up easily. So you tell him your regular time that you show up at the bar every Friday.

Dabi squeezes your wrist a little bit before letting out another "Good girl, sounds like a date.  I'll see you then." You never want him to know how those few words send a shiver down your spine. He saunters out of the bar without having a single drink himself. Patrons stare dumbfounded between you and the doorway that Dabi just exited, trying to comprehend what just happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh before leaning your head down into your folded arms.  The bar top isn't necessarily the cleanest of places to lay your head, but it’s pounding and racing with thoughts, and you can't really bring yourself to care right now.  You try to formulate a plan so you won't ever see him. You'll just move your regular day to Saturday instead of Fridays.  But then that stubborn anger flares inside of you again, and you sit up straight, glancing at your newly unwanted drink as the ice slowly melts, lifting the remaining liquid in the cup.  No, I'm not going to let that asshole ruin my spot for me.  He can come around here every Friday, but I'll turn that jerk down a million times. You think a little smugly to yourself.  We will see how the big bad Dabi feels being turned down over and over.  Maybe that will sting his ego.

And so you and Dabi play this game of cat and mouse. He comes every Friday when you are there without fail, buying you a drink, chatting to you with sentences filled with pet names, and planning another "date" each time.  And every time you tell him you aren't interested or to go away, or really anything to try and get that stupid fucking smirk off his face.  But it always remains cemented there as he watches you get fired up.  And what you don't realize is the two of you are getting to know each other.  Dabi adds in little questions, "what's your favorite food, least favorite, what do you do for work?"  And the questions go on and on.  You don't realize your walls coming down as the two of you find similarities in each other.  And if there is one thing anyone who sees these frequent interactions between the two of you can say, it is that Dabi is determined.

You are so used to Dabi's Friday visits that they don't bring headaches anymore, and you realize something more has developed when he doesn't show up one week.  A mixture of feelings rests in you, anxiety, confusion, anger.  You wonder if he's okay, or has he finally given up.  And then anger if he has.  You don't want to admit it, but you miss his company, and you don't even have a number to reach out to him.  You feel a sense of loss in your chest.  How could he just give up?  He's been trying for months!  You think as tears begin to sting for a moment in your eyes.

You leave the bar that night not feeling uplifted or relaxed but sad and angry.  And you aren't necessarily looking forward to returning the week after, but you do come back to your regular spot and hope Dabi will show.  Your heart almost stops in your chest when you see him walk through the entrance of the bar, and before you can contain the words, they tumble out in a frantic sound, "where were you last week?"  You are standing in front of him now, looking up at that little grin he always has on his face whenever you get annoyed with him.  You cross your arms over your chest and exclaim, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Aw, did you miss me, baby girl?"  His poker face never falls, but his grin grows a tiny bit wider as he stares into your fiery eyes.  And without warning, he wraps one of his long arms around you, pulling you into a tight side hug.

A small eep escapes you at the movement, and you move to push him off.  "What the hell are you doing? Answer my question, you jerk!" You practically yell as you push away from him.  He doesn't let go and just pulls you tighter to him, and you find yourself not struggling anymore as you take in the weathered texture of his coat pressed against your arm and the smell of cigarettes on him.  You feel your walls starting to fall entirely, "I was really concerned about you." You let out in a whisper, not really wanting to admit it to him, but you weren't sure how you would feel if something like this happened again.

"Aw, babe, you did miss me."  The delight in his voice makes you shiver a little.  He gestures you over to your regular spot at the bar, and the two of you sit down in the weathered chairs.  He puts a calloused finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his.  You stare into his cerulean depths that you used to hate and find yourself softening a bit.  "I had to do something for The League, but I don't have your number, love.  So I couldn't call and let you know I wouldn't make our date."  His face relaxes a bit as he watches your frown turn into a bit of pout.

"Okay, well fine, I'll give you my number.  But don't just text me randomly, okay?"  You huff as you lay your palm flat and motion for his phone.  Dabi chuckles and shakes his head before handing you the phone without another word.  Lifting the phone, you type your number into the cracked screen and hand it back to him.  "Okay, now text me, so I have yours. " You say, moving to grab your phone to wait for his upcoming text.

"Hmmm, I don't think so, doll,"  Dabi says, taking in your furrowed brow and then relishing in the way you roll your eyes at his taunting.

"Fine, whatever, Dabi.  Just text me next time you can't make it."  You say sourly while searching for the bartender to order your drink.  You don't want Dabi to see the slight sting of hurt in your eyes because he won't give you his.  The rest of the night goes as expected, drinking and talking, and you find yourself laughing more, not realizing how much you truly enjoyed this time with him.

The two of you depart with another hug, this one much shorter than the first, but you find yourself leaning into the warmth that radiates from him instead of wanting to push him off.  As you begin walking down the street home, you feel a buzz in your pocket.  Pulling out your phone, you unlock it to the message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey babe, see you same time next week - D

A small smile comes to your face as you type a response back.

The following year you grow in your relationship with Dabi.  There are never really any titles between the two of you.  Just that the two of you are together.  You never meet The League. Dabi is insistent you aren't involved with them in case things go awry.  But you spend a lot of time together when work or villain work doesn't take up the time.

Your relationship together comes to a head at the very start of the apocalypse.  The two of you sit snuggled together on your worn-out couch watching the news as a young reporter stands in front of a local research building in town and goes through the facts of citizens becoming "mindless and violent in a matter of hours."  And how they have people under lockdown who are experiencing symptoms of this "mysterious illness."

A slight shiver goes through you as the reporter goes on.  "That's really scary. No one knows what's causing it,"  you reflect aloud while you lean in closer into Dabi's outstretched arm that is resting around your shoulders.

"Aw, babe, don't be scared.  Those mindless fools wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to lay a hand on you while I'm there,"  Dabi says with a glint of amusement in his voice.  He always sounds so condescending, but you know it's the truth.  Remembering a time at the bar when a guy wouldn't take no for an answer-not that Dabi really followed that either- but Dabi didn't hesitate to let the guy know you were already taken.  He flirts and likes to jab a lot, but there’s a complete shift in the atmosphere when he's serious.

"Ugh, Dabi, you know I don't mean them attacking us. It's whatever is causing it that worries me. What happens if one of us gets it?  There's no cure right now,"  You say and worry your lower lip between your teeth.

Dabi picks up on your anxious state, and his cocky facade fades.  He pulls you on his lap so that you are fully facing him with legs pressed on either side of his.  Dabi holds one large hand on your waist, and the other he presses to your cheek.  Leaning your cheek further into his hand, Dabi moves his thumb to trace over the slight marks in your lip where your teeth were just placed.  "Hey, listen to me, nothing is going to happen, okay?  I won't let any of these maniacs hurt you, and we won't catch whatever they have,"  Dabi says tenderly as he gives you a small smile.

It's nice to see him like this- when his mask of superiority disappears, and he's focused on encouraging you.  It doesn't happen often because you like to keep walls.  Comfort from Dabi doesn’t need to happen often but you can’t say you don’t like it when he does.  You enjoy these softer moments with him that only you get to see.

You pull Dabi into a light kiss.  The gentle pressure of his mismatched lips fit seamlessly against yours.  You pull away after a moment to look into his deep blue eyes that now captivate you.  Dabi has that coy smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet your in that moment, it's like the horrible events of the world aren't happening anymore.  All that seems to exist is the two of you, not the TV still prattling in the background or even the noises outside your city window.

Dabi lightly caresses your cheek down to the length of your neck and finally ending near where your collarbones sit.  Everywhere he touches leaves behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin.  Even with these simple touches, you can feel yourself starting moving against him, trying to create a bit of friction.  Dabi knew how easily he could rile you up with simple touches.  It was frustrating at times, and you wished you could have the same effect on him.

"I love you, babe.  And no matter what, I won't let anything hurt you,"  Dabi tells you, and you swear his voice seems to be cracking, but the moment is gone before you can think about it.  Dabi lives on being mysterious most of the time, and you rarely get to see this vulnerable side of him.  Even if he doesn't say it behind that mask of cockiness, you can feel that there is fear of what's happening right now.  Or at least that's what you think the fear is from, but Dabi will never admit the fear is from losing you to whatever this is.  He isn't sure he could survive this hell of a life he's been given without you.

Your heart aches at his sincere words from earlier, and you whisper back, "I love you too, Dabi."  Drawing him into a more intense kiss.  Dabi begins to run his fingers along the hem of your t-shirt and delicately brushes the skin right under with his fingertips.  You feel a moan bubble up inside of you, but his mouth moving against yours swallows the sound.

"I want you so bad, doll.  Let's just forget what's going on right now, let the world fall away,"  he says in a husky voice after breaking away from the kiss.

You nod to him before letting out a content sigh and letting your eyes fall shut while Dabi continues to trace his hands over your body.  Dabi trails his massive heated hands under the thin shirt you are wearing and down to your hips.  You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as it begins to press against your clothed core.

Opening your eyes, you meet Dabi's half-lidded lustful eyes and bite your bottom lip and allow yourself to give into Dabi taking over you.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster, watching Dabi drink in every ounce of you.  Dabi is one of the only men you have ever trusted like this.  To have you so totally vulnerable.  It's strange how someone you didn't want anything to do with for months has become someone you rely on for everything- love, comfort, pleasure.

Dabi places open-mouthed kisses along your neck that leave you breathless.  "Fuck, I'm obsessed with every inch of you,"  Dabi growls out before returning to kissing and sucking your neck and exposed collar bone.

You grip Dabi's shoulder to ground you back from floating away into complete bliss and tip your head out to give him more access to your neck.  Dabi's mouth is like a flame that licks at your sensitive skin as he continues to trail his mouth all over.  You could be trapped in this pleasure forever.

Dabi grasps the back of your head and roughly brings your lips back to his.  With your mouths slotted against each other, you moan as Dabi finesses you to where you are lying on your back on the old couch, and he is hovering over you.

You break the kiss to quickly pull off his jacket and expose Dabi's scarred arms.  And just as you have only trusted Dabi fully with yourself, he has done the same.  Of course, the two of you have had sex with other people, mostly with lights off clothing still left on to hide the imperfections.  But with each other, there is no more hiding.

Heat begins to pool in your belly as you watch Dabi pull off your shorts and slide his warm hands all the way back up your leg and massage the plush skin of your thighs.  Once your shorts are removed, Dabi brings himself back to your face and, with a lustful sigh, traces kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Just relax and let me take you away from all of this, love.  I want to hear every sound you make." He growls as he moves down towards your pussy and lays himself between your spread legs.  Dabi lifts your thighs to rest on his shoulder as you let out a little gasp.  You can feel the excitement and heat rising in you.

Dabi kisses down the inside of your soft thighs and stops to suck at certain spots, leaving minor marks in their place.  He stops for a moment until you are looking directly into his captivating gaze, and then he licks a stripe up your pussy over the cotton of your underwear.  You let out a breathy moan at the sensation.   That jerk knows precisely what he's doing.

Dabi then grabs the thin material of your underwear and rips them away from your body with a tear. Groaning, you are about to curse at him for ruining another pair but are cut short when he sleekly licks up your folds. A delicate, playful moan leaves your separated lips.  Your eyes close, and you cling onto his white shirt to ground yourself.

"Baby girl, you're soaking wet," Dabi teases as if you weren't aware but cuts off any retort again with a quick suck to your aching clit. You can't hold back the loud moan that bubbles up in your throat.

Dabi smiles against your lower lips and continues his ministrations.   His mouth is open wide, so he can move back and forth from quickly licking up and down your sensitive pussy as well as suck softly on your clit.   You feel light-headed at the extended sensations, little whimpers and moans falling through your lips.  Dabi has always been able to leave you speechless with just his mouth.

"Dabi please," Your breathing hitches, and you moan out as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your small bud. You can feel that hot pressure building in your stomach as Dabi continues. He laps at you like you are holding the only source of liquid left in this world, his tongue working wonders on your dripping hole.

Dabi pulls back and looks up at you as you eagerly meet his blue eyes, begging him to continue.  He smirks before lowering his mouth back down and laps at your sopping core teasingly.  Fucking bastard.  Always a tease from day one.

Dabi licks his lips before returning to eating you out even faster as a series of cries and obscenities continue to fall out of your mouth.  You can't hold them back.  His mouth is so hot and wet against your core.

With another curse, you tell him you are close. A sigh escapes your lips, and your head tosses back onto the cushy arm of the couch.  Dabi pulls away but inserts two fingers inside of you in place of his mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me,  I want to taste you right now."  Dabi lets out with a rough voice filled with desire.  You whimper as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.  He smirks at your blissed-out face and then returns his mouth to your pussy.  His tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly as whines and cries continue to be let out of your mouth.  Back arching, you bite at your lip, barely able to even process the words that came out of Dabi just a moment ago.

"Oh, fuck, Dabi, please. Please, I'm gonna cum soon." The words fall from your lips, and your mind feels numb to everything except the feeling of Dabi's tongue on your pussy.

Dabi grunts and gives another hard suck to your clit before pulling away just a bit.  "Hell yeah, babe, come all over my face."

Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens with another cry as your legs begin to tremble as the tension starts to rise in your stomach. One more lick, and you know you'd come. Dabi's continued suckling of your clit sends you careening over the edge. Your cries fill the room, and your back arches as your legs try to squeeze around his head.  Dabi continues to suck and lick as you orgasm.  Panting and with your eyes twisted shut, you cling to his shirt as you start to come down.  A final curse gently leaves your mouth as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.  Dabi takes one last long slow lick before sitting back and wiping his face with the back of his hand.  You can't bring yourself to move from the couch, still panting and weak.

Your mind starts slowly coming back to you as the bliss begins to leave.  The realization of everything happening in the world washes over you.  But you were thankful Dabi took the time to distract you from the horrors of what's going on.  You move over so Dabi can cuddle with you on the couch.  It isn't much room, but it feels good to be this close with him, wrapped in each other's arms.  You both slowly start to drift off to sleep, but you don't miss Dabi's final words mumbled into your hair, "I'll never let anything happen to you."

Shortly after that, the world seems to descend into madness.  The illness grows more and more rampant.  People are getting infected every day.  Whether it's through the original source of contamination or by those contaminated biting or scratching someone.  Panic spreads throughout the country.  But through all of it, you and Dabi stick together.

From the moment it was declared an emergency Dabi was banging at your door, insisting the two of you find somewhere safer than your run-down apartment.  Because while the two of you needed sleep, whatever these things are could go non-stop, and your apartment was not fortified.

You and Dabi lost your quirks a month after the emergency declaration, along with the rest of the population. People couldn't fight these zombie-like creatures off anymore.  Like all the movies and TV shows, the bodies became more zombies than actual living people.

After a while of jumping around from a destroyed place to another, the two of you found yourself in an apartment building that had a sturdy enough entrance that the zombies couldn't break through.  The daily struggles were still hard, though. Finding food and water to survive became a daily task for the two of you.  Through all of this, he never left your side. He always insisted the two of you stay together.  And so you did.  Fighting the living dead, but sometimes the living too when things got even more terrible, and scavenging was your everyday routine now.

You lost track of time and could only follow when the seasons changed.  But Dabi was really the only thing getting you through this.  Seeing people destroy one another for food or shelter destroyed you inside.  Never knowing if these zombies you were killing were someone you had known at one point, or just another faceless dead person tore at every corner of your brain.  Dabi stayed strong for the two of you.  Holding you every night on the ripped blankets, you could gather for the strange bed the two of you slept in.  You would sob into his muscled chest about how you couldn't live in this world anymore, how you couldn't kill another person, alive or dead.

But Dabi would never let go.  He would hold you close and let your never-ending tears stain the only shirt he had now.  He would rub your back with his warm hands; even though his rusting staples would catch on your shirt and rip from his skin, he still did it.  He would hold you until you fell asleep, whispering how strong you were and how he could never do this without you.  And after all the tears, you were thankful too.  Because without him, you'd be dead or alone.  You knew that without Dabi, you would have never survived this long.

But you could see Dabi was hurting too.  You couldn't find supplies to treat his decaying skin.  He hid his daily pain from you, but when Dabi thought you weren't looking or listening, he would hiss at the pain of another staple pulling at his burnt skin or let out a huge sigh when he would try to put it back together, but it wouldn't cooperate.

The only hope the two of you held onto was each other and that possibly a cure would come soon.  Not that either you could really access that information with no electricity; there wasn't any way to get information other than hearsay.  You survived the best you could in this world.

And as much as this wasn't what you would have picked for either of you, at least you had each other.  You tried not to think of a time when you wouldn't be together, even though the chances of that happening were high- it hurt too much. To survive in this world without Dabi would be too fucking much.

It's almost as if fate chose to play a cruel game with the two of you.  It seemed like a "normal" trip out to scavenge for food and water.  The two of you had to expand your search area since places closer were mainly empty.

This time you found yourself outside of a convenience store, a reasonable distance away from your home.  It hadn't been completely destroyed by some miracle and was not overrun by the zombified people.  Still, in a state of decay, though, Dabi was quickly able to kick his heavy boots through the door and get the two of you in.

Sauntering through the gas station, you quickly begin to pick up canned food and stale bags of chips and shove them in your worn backpack.  Dabi is doing the same on other aisles until he lets out a chuckle.  "Hey babe, look what I found."  He says with a cocky voice holding up a few boxes of wrapped condoms above the aisle for you to see.

You roll your eyes.  "Thanks, Dabi. Is sex really what we want to be thinking about right now? Let's just get this shit and get out."  You let out with an annoyed huff and continue to push the limits of how much your bag can hold.

Dabi comes over to your aisle and snakes his arms around your waist with your back pressed to his chest.  He places his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear.  "Yes, all I can think about is getting your beautiful body back home and finally being able to finish in you, and with these, I can."  He lets out a dark chuckle as he pulls you closer against him and bucks  his hips playfully.

"Okay, horn dog, let's get this shit done, and then we can do whatever you want back home."  You let out with an eye roll.  It's hard to stay mad at him. You know he's trying to keep things light for you, to keep you happy because he can see how hard this is.  And his regular teasing is one way he knows will bring a smile to your face.

As you are finishing up trying to take inventory of anything else in the store that you can take back, you spot the clear plastic that holds the cartons of cigarettes behind the cashier counter.  While you didn't necessarily want Dabi smoking, you knew he missed the vice. Cigarettes were just as hard to find as medicine in this new world.  Smiling to yourself, you move behind the counter and reach for the plastic flap to lift it up.

As you try to lift the latch, it doesn't budge. You look around for what might be blocking it before seeing the tiny silver keyhole to one side of the compartment.  Crap, of course, it's locked.    You really wanted to surprise Dabi with this.  Maybe you still could. The key had to be here somewhere, right? You think while scanning around the counter.  You try searching through the counters for a hidden key but no luck.  Letting out a heavy sigh, you call Dabi over.

Dabi wanders over to your annoyed face and can't help but smile at your slight pout.  "I wanted to surprise you! But I can't open it. Can you get it, please?"  It comes out almost like a whine as you gesture to the cigarettes.

Dabi's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he pats the top of your head before saying, "My sweet doll.  Thank you for thinking of me. Let me help you out."  You could smack him, but instead, you watch as he hastily rips the plastic covering away and slips his hand below it to grab one of the wrapped cartons.

At that moment, everything changes.  The fun times the two of you were having shatters as a loud alarm rings through the store.  Panic floods your system as you stare at Dabi wide-eyed.  "There is no electricity. What's happening? There shouldn't be an alarm."  Horror is laced in your voice as words spill out of you.  Every walking corpse within miles will be here soon with the sound.

"Fuck, must have had a battery attachment. Come on, let's go."  Dabi's usual playfulness is gone as he abandons the cigarettes and grabs your hand.  He's grave now.  Getting the two of you out of here safely is his only goal.

You follow Dabi quickly, a hand grasped tightly in his as he runs towards the broken-down front door.   And that's when even more terror settles into you.  Zombies are pushing their way through the open door.  Their rotting bodies and white eyes focused on the area where the alarm is coming from.  There weren't many around when you broke in, but now it seems like they are multiplying by the moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Dabi curses under his breath, quickly turning around and pulling you towards the building's back exit.  You follow behind adrenaline surging through your veins fueled by your flight response.  Dabi grasps at the metal handle to the back door and shakes it only to find it locked.  "Damnit!"  he shouts before kicking the door violently.

Your heart is pounding, and you feel helpless as you stare at Dabi while he continues to slam himself at the door.  While the front door was glass and flimsier, this door was only budging slightly.  With all your focus on the door, you don't notice the continuously growing herd filtering into the gas station.  Not until you feel one brush against your shoulder.

Your eyes widen as you feel a scream bubbling in your throat.  This is it.   This is where the two of you die and either become fodder for a herd of living dead or turn into one yourself.   Your brain is pure panic as thoughts fly through faster than you can catch them.  You don't even realize you have screamed out Dabi's name until you see his face turn towards yours.

His typically blue eyes are almost entirely covered by his dark pupils as he takes in the monstrosities behind you.  But unlike you, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls out a knife he keeps in one of his pockets and slams it into the decaying skull of the zombie that is right behind you.  Splurts of dark blood hit your cheek as he pulls out the knife, and the creature behind you crumples to the floor.

"Keep trying the door! I'll keep them off you."  Dabi shouts, pulling you into the spot he previously stood.  Your heartbeat is so loud you can feel it in your head, and you can't even make a coherent response as you begin to slam your body against the solid surface.  You can feel it give a little more with each push of your body, and everything in you is screaming not to give up.  Doing your best not to glance at Dabi's grunting and movements as he continues to try and put down zombie after zombie.

You can't give up; this can't be the end . Desperately your brain is screaming as you continue to feel the door give more and more.  Your shoulder hurts from the continued impact, but you aren't letting it slow you down.  You can feel it; it's almost there.

Suddenly the door gives, and you can see the sun shining through on the other side.  You cry out in  relief and turn back to tell Dabi to come with you.  But as your eyes meet, fear fills every ounce of you.

He's still fighting them off, but there is a gaping bite wound on his right arm— rows of teeth marks embedded in his skin.  You feel like you're going to be sick. There is no coming back from this; there's no known cure.  At any point within the next twenty-four hours, he would be another one of the walking dead, no sense, no logic, and looking to consume others. This can't be happening, this can't be happening.  Your heart is sinking with every second that ticks by.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out! Get out!"  Dabi screams at you as he embeds his knife in another zombie.

"No, no, I can't leave without you!  I-we can find something.  I'll find something, please! Come on, Dabi, I can't do this without you!"  You are sobbing now, hot tears streaming through the dirt and blood mixed on your face.  An ache in your heart starts to form.  You know you don't know how to help him, but you'll do anything to not leave him behind.

Dabi lets out a grin despite the feral dead people closing in on him.  And gives you a wink before saying in a voice that seems too calm for the situation, "Come on, doll, you are the most intelligent person I know.  You have to go.  Live for us, babe.  Look at how far we've come.  Go show this world that it won't ever break you down. I love you, and I'll come to find you wherever you are in the afterlife and annoy the shit out of you.  Now go!"

It's like your heart is being ripped into a thousand pieces. Your breath comes out in short huffs, moving towards hyperventilating.  You want to go back to Dabi and cling on for dear life, but you won't let him die in vain.  Not after that speech.  That would be an insult to everything the two of you have overcome.  So with all your strength, you give your lover, the man who has come so far with you, the last look before letting out a final "I love you too" and burst out the door.

You don't look back, aching feet propelling you forward as tears continue to stream and fall off your face.  When you first met Dabi, you would have never thought you'd miss him.  But you will , you'll miss every snarky comment, every flirty glance, and the tender way only he has loved you.  The man that you were sure was just some asshole trying to get laid became the love of your life and sacrificed himself so you could live.  And you could never let that go to waste.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Ruki Ecstasy [04]

ー The scene starts inside the abandoned building

Yui: Ah...!

( ...I messed up again. )

( Cooking on a wood stove (1) is really difficult. )

( I’ve only ever cooked using a gas stove so I’m having trouble controlling the flames... )

( However, there’s no way an abandoned building like this one would have a gas stove. )

...I can’t serve this burnt omelet to Ruki-kun. 

( I’ll try one more time from scratch. )

ー Ruki walks up to her

Ruki: The food seems to be taking rather long. Did something happen?

Yui: Ruki-kun!

Ruki: This is...

Yui: Ah! Don’t look!!

( Having this disaster of a plate seen by him would lose me lots of girlfriend points... (2) )

I’m so sorry...I was having trouble controlling the flames so I burnt a few of them. 

I’ll make sure to succeed this time so can you wait just a little longer? 

Ruki: No, I’ll make it next.

Yui: Are you sure...?

Ruki: Yes. I’d feel bad for leaving all the cooking up to you.

Selection

→ Be careful, okay? (S)

Yui: Be careful, okay?

Ruki: What are you saying? You know what I’m capable of in the kitchen, don’t you?

Yui: Ah, of course. I do, but...

The fire gives off sparks at times, so I want you to be careful.

Ruki: Ah, I see. Understood.

→ Is there anything I can help with? (M)

Yui: Is there anything I can help with?

Ruki: No, you can just watch from there.

Yui: ...I see.

Ruki: ...Heh.

ー He pulls her close

*Rustle*

Ruki: ...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...!

( He kissed my forehead... )

Ruki: Don’t look so disappointed. I didn’t mean to call you a bother. 

Yui: ( Sneak attacks are dirty, Ruki-kun... )

Ruki: Hm...? Oi, your hand...Did you burn yourself, perhaps?

Yui: Eh?

Ruki: On your wrist. The skin has turned red. Show me for a second. 

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: I-It’s fine! It’s just vaguely pink in color...Besides, I made sure to apply cold water. 

Ruki: You can’t say you’re fine when the skin’s red. ...Bring your wrist over here. 

*Rustle*

ー He licks the burn

Ruki: ...Nn...

Yui: ( ...! He licked it...!? )

Ruki-kun...

Ruki: I’m only licking it lightly but...Is it that embarrassing? 

If you protest, I don’t mind being a little more rough with you? ...Which do you prefer?

Yui: ( N-Neither... )

Ruki: This is your penalty for keeping it a secret. ...Next time, make sure to tell me right away, understood?

Yui: Okay...

Ruki: Go and cool it down for a little longer, just in case. I’ll prepare our food in the meantime.

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Wow...! )

( He made a perfectly cooked omelet just like you would on a regular stove...! )

You’re amazing, Ruki-kun! I can’t believe you got this kind of result using a wood stove!

Ruki: I’ve cooked on top of a fire in the past after all.

I thought I had long forgotten, but I guess my body remembered better than I expected. 

You should learn to cook like this as well. I’ll teach you the ropes later. 

Yui: Yeah, thank you!

Ruki: The food will get cold if we talk too much. Let’s eat now.

Yui: Sure.

*Thud*

Yui: ( Eh? )

Wait, Ruki-kun! That’s my failed attempt!

I’ll eat that one so...You should eat yours, okay?

Ruki: No, I want this one. 

Yui: But it’s burnt...

Ruki: It’s not totally inedible. Besides...I want to eat the one you made. 

Even if it was burnt to a crisp, it would still taste better to me. 

Come on, let’s dig in.

*Cling*

Yui: ...Ruki-kun...Are you sure?

Ruki: ...Nn, don’t be so modest. It’s plenty delicious.

Yui: ...

( There’s just no way...It’s totally burnt after all. )

Ruki: A dish you made for me can’t possibly taste disgusting. ...Is that bad? 

Yui: ...It’s not. I’m really happy, but...

Ruki: I’m enjoying your cooking together with you. That’s all I need.

Of course, non-burnt food is ideal.

Yui: ( ...Ruki-kun is so kind. )

*TIMESKIP*

Ruki: ーー Well then, we should clean up.

Yui: ( Ruki-kun...He finished the whole thing. )

Ruki-kun, um...!

Ruki: What? Don’t tell me you’re still worriーー

Yui: Suck my blood!

Ruki: ...Hah?

Yui: Y-You know, to get rid of the bad taste...!

( I realize I’m probably sounding crazy but I’m sure the burnt omelet tasted bad... )

( The least I can do is have him drink my blood to provide something delicious after... )

Ruki: ...No need.

Yui: Uu...

Ruki:  The food you made was good. Therefore, I don’t need to cleanse my palate.

Yui: But...

Ruki: Or is this a new technique you’ve come up with to ask for my fangs? In which case, I might consider it. 

Yui: Eh...!? N-No...!

Ruki: It’s not?

I thought you were craving it after feeling my fangs against your skin when I licked your hand...What a shame. 

...But I’m sorry. Now I’m the one who’s craving it. 

Yui: Eh...?

ー He steps closer

Ruki: Nn...Nnh...

Yui: ...!

Ruki: Hah...Let me come clean. 

When I lapped at your reddened skin...I was overcome by an intense urge to sink my fangs in. 

Yui: ( When I showed him the burns earlier...? )

Ruki: I was going to hold back. ...Until you spoke those words, that is...

Nn...

You keep on fueling my desires...time after time. 

Yui: Ruki-kun...

Ruki: Yui, you are the only one...who can stir me up like this....

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー 

Translation notes

(1) A kamado is a traditional Japanese stove using either wood or charcoal. 

(2) Literally she says that it would make her a failure as a girlfriend/lover.

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<- [ Ecstasy 03 ] [ Ecstasy 05 ] ->

[couchpotatoaniki]

Our Fruitless Tree

As children, the three of you were inseparable. To show this, you planted a mulberry tree together--a symbol of your love and ever-lasting friendship that would withstand the test of time. But would it really?

Pairing: Servant!Hongjoong x Royal!Reader x Nobleman!Seonghwa Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, Love triangle, heavy angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers (?), Fantasy AU, Warnings: swearing, mentions of conception, blood, death (unknown terminal illness; tree), unrequited love, extremely poor story-telling, magic torture,  Word Count: 5.8k+

@atozfic​ IT MAY BE SHIT, BUT THIS ONE’S FOR YOU /g

A/N: the bridal bouquet in this is inspired by Princess Diana’s. I dunno, I just really liked it.

“Y/N! Come look over here!” Seonghwa yelled at you, hand waving in the air to beckon you over where Hongjoong and he stood. Even as children, the two were taller than you, as if their bodies had not cared you were of a higher status.

You were the only child of the Kingdom’s royal family, meaning that you had little in the way of friends. Especially when the future crown stuck to you, intimidating any future playmates. Luckily Seonghwa was the son of a family friend--a nobleman with immense power, who’s faithful lineage dated back to the creation of the kingdom.

Hongjoong was similar, the only difference being that he came from that of a servant family than of one of power, a debt made by his ancestors that had sold his life to serve the royal family. But being your servant had taught him from a young age that, unlike what everyone had tried to make you believe, you were pretty much a normal human with feelings, the weight of an entire empire on your shoulders from the day you were born.

“Coming!” you yelled back, hurriedly making your way towards your only two friends, the younger holding something behind his back while the older was practically bouncing with excitement. “What are you hiding from me?”

Grinning, Seonghwa’s hands pulled into sight, unfurling to show off the sapling in his hand. “It’s a mulberry tree! You love mulberries, don’t you?”

You believe that was the first time your heart skipped a beat--at the young age of 11--but you wouldn’t realise until a quite few years later, when life was much different, though the relationship between the three of you had not changed all that much.

That day was a precious memory, where the three of you had planted the young mulberry sapling in a secret garden that your father had built just for you, but you had opened it to Seonghwa and Hongjoong; a place where none of you had to bare the titles hovering over your heads.

Even the Earth was indiscriminate when it came to dirtying your clothes as you all kneeled to plant the young sapling easily becoming the most important thing in your friendship.

Had the three of you acting as if it was your shared child, arguing who would water the roots, talking to it as if it could respond.

As the years went on, life was much different than when you were all naïve children, but the care and love you had never weakened, even during the occasional arguments that burst between you all.

With age, Hongjoong’s untameable burnt-chocolate hair lightened to a gentle chestnut, long enough that he had to tie it back into a little bun. Seonghwa’s hair, on the other hand, had changed from a soft platinum to a dirty blonde, messy strands now pulled down into a neat style.

The two were lean. Both still taller than you, though Hongjoong was only a few inches from you.

The three of you truly believed you could withstand the test of time. That your relationship would never change no matter how long it had been.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” you whispered, hand clamped to the stone railing of your balcony. “It’s your last chance to back out, Seonghwa.”

You could hear chuckling beside you, deeper than what you used to hear as a kid, though you dared not to look at the boy--the man beside you. “You know very well I can’t do that, Y/N. Would rather it be me that’s marrying you than some officious fool who knows nothing of your happiness.”

Sighing, you leaned over, letting your necklace dangling slightly in the air from around your neck. “Doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your own happiness.”

You felt two colder hands wrap around your exposed arms, feeling nice against the humid summer night. Seonghwa’s chin rested down on your shoulder, as he looked on the same scene you were. Soft breaths against your skin had it erupting with goosebumps, and you prayed your friend had not noticed.

He did, but didn’t pay much heed to it--as per usual. If only he would put a little more though into the strange quirks you developed over time--developed around him and him only--maybe he would have realised that you loved him.

More than a friend.

Both of you were too lost in the moment to realise someone had entered your room. The final person to complete your trio. Hongjoong, dressed in his crisp cream and gold uniform, overlooked the scene of you two.

He didn’t know why his heart hurt so badly.

Clearing his throat certainly got your attention, ripping away from each other in fear that someone had caught you two a night before the wedding doing something you shouldn’t have. Was nothing like that, but people--especially those in the castle--tended to blow things out of proportion.

Upon seeing that it was only Hongjoong, you two had released a breath of relief. “For heaven’s sake, Hongjoong! You almost gave me a heart attack,” you said. Seonghwa had his eyes averted to the polished marble floor, unable to meet his friend’s, cheeks flushed.

You thought it was because of embarrassment that someone had caught the two of you so late at night.

It wasn’t.

“I think it would be best for you to return to your room, Seonghwa. Before someone actually does come looking for you. Don’t want someone to see you too,” Hongjoong laughed, now an expert at making a light-hearted aura around him with years of practice.

“Alright then. Good night,” the nobleman smiled, finally bringing his sight up to see his best friend, heart beating feverishly when he saw the gentle smile pulling at his lips. Couldn’t tell it wasn’t real, not even as he left the room.

Now it was just you and Hongjoong.

“Come, let’s take a walk.”

For as long as you could remember, the boy had been attentive to your needs (despite his occasional silly behaviour), long before he was told that it was his job. You’d like to think of it as his sixth sense; knowing how you were, what you needed, when you needed him.

Maybe that’s why he could tell that you had pre-wedding jitters, feeling so sick you barely had the life in you--skin looking more dreary than usual. You needed time away, even for a few minutes, to take a breather from all the commotion.

The two of you walked in silence in the sleeping halls, like two thieves in the night, careful not to wake anyone up.

Hongjoong was aware you liked Seonghwa, but he knew it was unrequited. Why, he could not his finger on. You were prefect, a person who deserved all the love in the world--in the universe.

You knew better than to ask where he was taking you; after all, you trusted him. And maybe because you also knew him well enough to know where he was taking you.

To the secret garden.

“She’s withstood all the storms and droughts the earth has threatened her with. No wonder her bark is so thick and her roots so tough.” His voice was tender as the tips of his fingers brushed against the rough bark, the trunk appearing darker under the absence of the sun. “Gotten so big, hasn’t she?”

As if his actions were a trigger, your hand reached out to stroke the mulberry tree too. “She has...” Tender look in your expression had his breath caught in his throat. Your eyes shifted to meet his, which were already gazing at you. “Do you think she’ll bare fruit this time?”

“The frost has long passed, so not this year, I believe.” Hongjoong couldn’t bare the instant hollow look in your eyes, saddened to his core until the light reignited in your irises--almost glowing in the dark like the fireflies surrounding them.

“But she will next year, right?”

“And she will bare the tastiest fruit. Better than those sold on the markets,” he reassured, though he had an inkling of suspicion that this fruit would not come any time soon. Not after all these years. But that spark in your eyes was the only thing he could not bare to extinguish, so he kept his lips pursed.

“I was reading up on the symbolism of the mulberry trees across cultures,” you said, moving to sit on the wooden swing that hung from one of the stronger branches; the rope had rose vines growing around it, which Hongjoong made sure to maintain so it was safe for you whenever you came. This was your favourite spot, after all.

He raised a brow, moving behind you as his hands rested on your back momentarily before pushing you slightly. “Is that so? Mind telling me?” He already knew from his extensive research to look after the tree, but there was no harm in hearing it again.

Excitedly, you let a wide grin play against your lips as he gradually pushed you higher and higher. “So, in Xiqen, it’s seen as a link between Heaven and Earth, and in Mika, it represents a support, nurturing and self-sacrifice.”

“Is that all?”

“Uh...yes.”

“Strange... I could’ve sworn there was some significance of the mulberry tree in Zepheth.” He began to slow down when he saw your back slump over slightly. Probably because he knew that it wasn’t a happy story.

“There is,” you mumbled, eyes downcast to the evergreen grass rather than meet his soft chocolate ones. “Just... it’s very sad.”

He held your hands in his larger ones, both of you loving the warmth it provided despite the slight heat of the night. “Not all stories are happy. Need to hear the sad ones too, to truly understand the picture.”

Words were a bit cryptic, even for him. Regardless, you had continued. “In Zepheth, there were these two lovers who were forbidden to wed, so they secretly arranged to meet under the mulberry tree. However, they were found out, and killed under the tree, staining the white berries red... It symbolises star-crossed lover and the final union of death.”

The air seemed to be still, despite the rustling of the leaves and chirping of the hidden crickets. Hongjoong kneeled down, pressing a hand onto your cheek to soothe even the slightest bit the grief in your face. “Good thing the other two have nice symbols. Cancels the bad things out.”

Chuckling slightly, you rested your own hand on his, nuzzling into his palm as your eyes shut. Stark contrast between your skins, yours being softer than silk while his were calloused and rough. But it felt nice against the supple flesh of your cheek.

You both thought so.

But with the moon so high and hair beginning to stick to your necks from the humidity and heat, you thought it best to return. “Escort me to my chambers? After all, it is a very big day tomorrow and we both have to rise early for the final preparations.”

As if he needed reminding of that. “Very well then.”

Your servant wasn’t happy with the proceedings--not when he knew that Seonghwa’s eyes did not meet the passion you had in yours, despite your many years of friendship. But he had to agree with him on one thing.

Seonghwa was the best and safest choice you (and the kingdom) had in this moment of time.

So Hongjoong didn’t protest when you walked down the isle in the most breath-taking attire, adorned with pearls and jewels, and a gorgeous bouquet of green and white; gardenias, lily of the valley, earl mountbatten roses, freesia, and ivy--and most importantly, white mulberries.

He didn’t challenge when the vows were spoken and Seonghwa promised to love you and only you forever.

He didn’t object when the Priestess gave the crowd one last chance to speak or forever hold their peace before the deal was sealed with a kiss.

Despite his gut and every other fibre in his being screaming at him otherwise.

Another two decades passed, and now strands of white hairs were peeking through, but unlike before, much had changed. You were now a parent of three--triplets, conceived within the first few tries.

Yunho, San, and Wooyoung. The mulberries of your eyes.

You suppose that’s when the rose-tint on your married life began to fade. Though he was extremely affectionate in the beginning, Seonghwa never touched you like that again after the birth of your children. Though the three kids never really noticed it much as it was all they had known, you could see it clearly.

How he would spend more and more time in his office. How he would climb in bed and talk about your day, but doing nothing more. It was if you two had reverted back to friends--that very thought breaking your heart when you had loved him so dearly.

Felt as if he looked at your feelings as if it were a trinket in a shop before putting it back, not finding it suitable enough for him.

But for Seonghwa, that wasn’t the case at all.

He tried--he really did--to love you.

By now, time had made him wise enough to know of your compassion for him and he begged himself to return your feelings. Spent many nights while you were asleep praying to the entities residing in the Heavens, crying on the hard floor of the palace’s temple until his arms grew sore and his legs went numb.

But he could not look at any other. Seonghwa could not stop his heart knocking against his chest, his cheeks pooling with heat, whenever he saw Hongjoong smile, or laugh, or do the most menial of tasks.

Could not stop the thoughts of him being by his side rather than you--and it killed him to think that, especially when you have been nothing but kind and loving to the both of them--never giving your personal servant too much work or being too stubborn in wanting your husband’s affection. Instead of pressing too much, you worked on the kids and kingdom.

You were kind, selfless.

Maybe Seonghwa should have let someone else marry you. Maybe they could love you back for all those times he couldn’t.

But he supposes that the best thing out of this marriage was his children. Despite Yunho’s hyperactivity, San’s clinginess, and Wooyoung’s mischievousness, he loved the three to the moon and back.

Helped you in raising them over the last two decades into great people.

It was the only thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret.

That, and how it had given him the excuse to be closer with Hongjoong too, the two of them learning how to look after the triplets (one already proved to be a handful, but three was a nightmare) while you were unwell or busy with other business.

There were times where he glanced at his childhood friend, playing games with the young kids or feeding them or changing them, and had completely forgotten about you. All that swirled in his head was if this is what it would look like if Hongjoong and he had a family together.

Then Seonghwa would snap out of it a spilt second later, cold shame eating away at the warmth in his chest because how could he ever think of such a thing about the mother of his kids?

Meanwhile, Hongjoong--your intelligent and faithful servant--had figured this out too. Figured out the reason why he felt so sick to his stomach when he saw you be so loving towards a man who doesn’t love you back, and why said man could not reciprocate your feelings.

If Seonghwa felt guilty, then Hongjoong felt a million times worse.

Felt as if he was the reason you were in so much pain--and he could tell you were, because he was the one you came running to in the beginning, when your husband kept his wall up around you and you became so frustrated and upset that you spilled waterfalls of salty tears onto his jacket, mumbling words of pain and heartbreak that stayed within the walls of the secret garden.

It stayed safe there, as Seonghwa no longer visited.

Not even you had visited less, despite being consumed with your children and the work of the kingdom. The tree was a sign of your love for each other, it was your very first child.

Hongjoong, too, had stayed. Continued to care for it, to keep it company on his breaks, to talk about his problems since he certainly could not tell you or Seonghwa. His own tears often landed on the roots of the tree, nurturing it with his pain.

Perhaps that’s why the tree had not bore any mulberries, from the saltiness of the water or the anguish it carried.

But he kept whispering the same thing to you whenever you asked, that the mulberries would definitely come, and they would be tastiest you would ever have. Better than those from the markets.

Five more years had passed and you grew ill. Hid it well, so well that no one except the royal physician knew of your condition. Not even Hongjoong knew, so you took that as an achievement. Rarely anything got by him, especially when it came to you.

Dr Yeosang had looked at you with dreary eyes, putting his equipment away which had signalled the end of your appointment. “Anything?” you inquired, coughing into a blood-stained napkin.

“I’m afraid there is still no diagnosis. None of the symptoms match up to any known illnesses and it appears that it is not spread by people since everyone else in the palace is as fit as a fiddle.”

Your smile was small as you chuckled. “Everyone except me, it seems,” you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Yeosang simply sighed. “I believe it’s time. Tell your family before it gets even worse--which it has been doing since the first appointment. At least Hongjoong.”

“You know very well I can’t do that. We’re in the middle of a drought and there’s raids going on in the North--”

“Every kingdom faces those, and yours has already dealt with such situations in the past very well.”

You looked away, cheeks now starting to sink in from the lack of appetite. “I know,” you whispered, ”but I can’t bring myself to say it.”

He licked his lips in contemplation, understanding why you wouldn’t want to tell anyone. A monarch is as strong as the kingdom--any instability in the family will cause instability for the nation. And the same goes for a parent and their family.

“I suppose I can try to hide it a little longer... but a month is all I can do--from the rate your illness is progressing.”

Lips tightening in a thin line, you nodded. There was never going to be enough time. Would go greedy, wishing for a month, then another, then another. But your timer was non-negotiable.

So the first thing you did when you left the royal physicians was go see your sons. If there were anyone who needed your attention, they would be your boys.

Short on breath, you tried to travel swiftly through the hallways--bones, now weary with age and sickness, no longer moving the same way as you used to. As you made your way to the royal family’s private wing, you overheard wisps of conversation through a nearby door.

Slowing to a halt, you listened closer, recognising the voices but not seeming to put names to them--brain too muddled to think straight.

“--know.”

“You can’t do that, Seonghwa. Not to her.”

“I can’t force myself to stop caring about you, Hongjoong!”

Your heart stopped mid-beat.

“Keep your voice down!” There was a pause while the floorboards of Seonghwa’s private office creaked, most likely Hongjoong’s habit of pacing while he was thinking. “You need to. I care about you as a friend, but nothing more.”

“You think if I could, I would’ve done so already?” your husband’s voice was seething. “Heavens know how hard I have tried to love her, b-but I just can’t!”

“Well I can’t love you back, if that’s what you’re asking for.”

Another stretch of silence passed, and you could almost imagine the two glaring at each other as they normally did in a fight. “Because you love her. Am I correct?”

A soft sigh came from who you assumed was Hongjoong, quiet but still loud enough for your ears to capture (greatly timed to cover your own gasp at the revelation).

“I don’t know...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“...Nothing.”

“Hongjoong, you know you can tell me anything. Regardless of our positions before or after this conversation, we will always be friends.”

“This is better kept between me and the Heavens.” He sighed once more. “All you need to know is that we can’t be together because I don’t love you and I have my loyalty. End of discussion.”

Had it been anyone else, Seonghwa would’ve had them arrested for speaking that way to their king. But neither of you could ever so that to him. He was your rock, your old friend--his loyalty shining bright even after all these years of serving you.

Before Hongjoong could open the door, you had fled the scene, not wanted to be caught eavesdropping on such a private conversation--even if the topic had concerned you.

Just before entering the Princes’ linked chambers, you caught your breath, willing your pounding heart to stop beating so feverishly.

There was too much going on. Too much, and your brain can’t seem to wrap itself around it all.

“So that’s why,” you whispered, lacking breath in your lungs. “His heart belongs to another...” Then a fit of coughs burst once more and your hands scrambled to retrieve a fresh napkin tucked beneath your sleeve to catch the blood.

Upon hindsight, it was a bad idea to stop in front of your son’s private room, because your extreme coughing had caught his attention. Yunho’s confused eyes melted away to concern, especially after seeing the dark red liquid tainting the pure white cloth.

“Mother!”

His cry had attracted the attention of your other two sons, who swarmed around you as Yunho cradled his arms around you, guiding you to his bed.

San brushed the strands of hair that had escaped from your tight bun away from your face while Wooyoung rubbed your back in attempt to sooth your violent coughing. “What’s wrong, Mum?”

“We need to tell Papa!”

“We need Dr Yeosang--”

“He knows,” you tried to say, doing your breath to bring your breathing back to normal. “The doctor. He’s known... for a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘a long time’?” San asked, his hands clasped around yours, a desperate look in his eyes begging for an explanation. “What’s going on, Mama?”

Not right now. You were supposed to have a month extra. They weren’t supposed to find out so soon. “I...” you throat felt tight and dry, “I’m very unwell. The doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong because he’s never seen anything like it before.”

“Then we get a new doctor!” Yunho piped in, voice raised and slightly frantic. You really didn’t need them panicking.

“If Yeosang doesn’t know, then no one will.”

“What about Dad?” Wooyoung asked. “Does he know? Uncle Hongjoong has to know, right? Uncle Hongjoong always kn--”

“Neither of them know. We must keep it that way. So you need to pretend that I’m healthy and well for just one more month. That’s all I ask for. One month.”

You looked between all your children, trying to memorise their faces because Heavens know how long you have left.

As promised, the boys kept your secret for as long as they could--caring and tending to you as much as they could without arousing suspicion from Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

But before your month was up, you had collapsed just after a dinner--slipping in and out of consciousness while your old friend carried you up to Yeosang’s office, the rest of your family in tow, beyond worried.

Yeosang later explained, when you were fully awake, that whatever illness you had was growing at a much faster rate than he anticipated, and you had a few weeks at most.

Now, you were bedridden in your chambers, limbs too heavy and painful to move, lungs feeling like they were being pressed down from the gravity and it got harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Not a day went by where your sons or husband visited you, and Hongjoong had rarely ever left your side. As strong as they all tried to be, their puffy crimson eyes and sniffling noses were all too obvious.

“Seonghwa? Hongjoong?” you said, voice faint and dry. “Could you go out... for a few minutes. I need to... talk to the boys.”

They exchanged glances, before following your quiet word. “What is it, Mama?” San said, crouched beside you as he held your hand once again.

Even as a man in his mid-twenties, your little baby still called you ‘Mama’ and refused to let go of his mother’s hand. Found you as the most comforting thing in the world.

“Remember... the mulberry tree? The one I showed you?”

“Yeah, Ma,” Wooyoung said leaning against the wall that faced you. Despite his playful and nonchalant nature, you knew he was the most emotional one out of the three. Which was why you were very concerned over his silence for the past few days until he finally spoke now.

“I want you three... to look after it once I’m gone.”

“You’re not going, Mother,” Yunho sniffled, tears in his eyes threatening to drop. He was the oldest (by a few minutes) and was still the most respectful. But even then, he was still a kind and soft-hearted boy, much like his brothers.

“But promise me... regardless. That you’ll look after her. And when she finally bares fruit...”

“It’ll be the tastiest fruit,” your sons recited in unison, eyes glossy with unshed tears, “better than any other on the markets.”

With the little strength you had left, you mustered a weak smile. “My good boys... You will become... fine kings one day. I have no doubt.” You let go of San’s hand, hand instantly being consumed by the cold from the lack of insulation and warm blood pumping through your veins. “Now... call in your Father and Uncle.”

And they did so, leaving the room to leave the three of you alone. “What is it, my dear?” Seonghwa caressed your cheek lovingly, but you both knew that it was more of a platonic gesture than a romantic one--more for you than it was for him.

“I know...about your love for Hongjoong.”

You could feel the tension in the air thicken to such a degree that you could slice it with the letter opener that resided on your bedside table. It was Hongjoong who spoke up. “Y/N, you need to know that we never--”

“Did anything... I know.” You look to him, that same weak smile plastering on your face. “Such a loyal friend. Never did deserve you, did I?”

He shook his head as he came down to hold your hand. “No--don’t say that. If anything, I didn’t deserve you as a friend.”

You chuckled softly, careful not to trigger another one of your coughing fits. “If I can’t say things like that... then neither can you. But I would like you both to do two final things for me.”

“Anything,” his voice was still strong, unwavering, but you knew Hongjoong long enough to see the stormy ocean behind his calm gaze, the turmoil he must be feeling right now from losing his closest and oldest friend.

“First thing is.. be happy,” you shifted your gaze over to your husband, “and you too. If you can’t with me... then at least with each other.”

For the first time, your servant let go of your hands, denying your request. “I can’t be happy without you.”

“Then learn to do so. After all, you have... the rest of your life.”

He couldn’t verbally agree to that, not when what he said was true. Not when his own heart lay in your possession--and would to until the day he passed as well. So Seonghwa took the painful step in asking what your second wish was.

You recalled the Zepheth’s symbol of your most beloved possession. Star-crossed lovers and the final union of death. Though the three of you were stuck in a sick triangle of unrequited love by the Heavens, it felt fitting for your story.

And perhaps, with your permanent presence, the fruit would finally grow.

“Bury me under the mulberry tree.”

Extra, alternative ending below If you’re not a fan of fantasy or torturous spirits or man-eating trees, just stop here.

Two young travellers searched around the ruins of a lost palace, greenery overflowing, filling every nook and cranny of the battered stone walls--a rather beautiful sight of Mother Nature reclaiming her lands.

“Where even are we, Mingi?” the shorter, more muscular one of the pair said, stumbling over vines and rubble as he followed the much taller man.

“Not where we’re meant to be, I think,” he quipped, looking at the architecture to find some clues of their whereabouts.

The other rolled his eyes. “This would’ve been a lot easier if you didn’t drop the map in the river.”

“Hey! In my defence, it was really windy and the rain made the ground slippery. Leave me alone, Jongho.”

“Not until you give me a damn map.”

Like the archaeology student he was, Mingi studied the tattered tapestry and engravings on the walls until it had hit him. “Holy mother of fresh, sweet hell.”

“What?”

Without answering his best friend’s question, the man too off running, as if he already knew the layout of the place. Jongho ran after him, screaming and almost tripping over the vegetation in the way of his heavy boots.

Once Mingi stopped, his friend held his knees, heaving to catch his breath. “What... the hell... was that for?”

Swivelling on his heel, the tall explorer had sparkles in his eyes. “This is it! The Lost Kingdom! The thing we’ve been looking for!”

Jongho’s head snapped up. “You mean you’ve been looking for? I was just dragged along by your antics as usual.” He narrowed his eyes when he finally saw where his friend took him. “A tree? You took me to see a goddamn TREE?!”

Mingi got closer the enormous mulberry tree, gazing at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Not just any tree. It’s the Queen Y/N’s tree!”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Jongho sighed, feeling the rage burn within him like a furnace, “you took me to see a dead woman’s tree?”

“Yes, but--”

“WE ALMOST DIED, MINGI! TWICE!” He held up two fingers, expressing his point further. “AND ALL THAT FOR A GODDMAN TREE?!”

“The lore surrounding it was well worth the trip,” a voice said, the two boys’ head spinning to see a person dressed in old, fancy clothing, perched upon the swing--now completely covered with vines and moss. Both of them swore they hadn’t noticed them there. Yet, they brushed it off anyways, thinking that they just had silent movement.

“Who are you?” Mingi asked, head cocked to the side as he became familiar with the sight of them.

“The protector of this tree,” they replied. “Who are you?”

“Some travellers...sightseeing,” Jongho piped in, sceptical of this person who looked like they were in their twenties, just like them.

“You were talking about lore?” The older of the two inquired, already greatly invested in the whole place. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Why, I must be. After all, I look after her,” they said, lovingly stroking the trunk of the tree. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please!” Mingi sat down, like a child excited for story time despite knowing the book by-heart, while Jongho stayed stood up beside him.

“Well, once upon a time, there was a very strong and powerful Kingdom--”

“The Lost Kingdom!” the child-like man shot out, too giddy to hold back.

The person giggled, his antics reminding them of someone they used to know. “Yes, I believe that’s what you call it. Well, there were three children that lived here; one was of royalty, one of nobility, and the third was a servant--but they were the best of friends, despite their status.”

The muscular boy narrowed his eyes at the childish tone the person was using, not liking how it sounded--how it started to make him feel weary.

“They planted this tree,” they tapped the trunk with their hand, “right here, and nurtured it for as long as they could. As they grew older, the royal and nobleman got married and had children together, while the servant dedicated his life to helping them.”

Jongho sat down, feeling more dreary than normal, coughing a little, while Mingi did the same, not feeling so well either.

“They were all still close, regardless of personal disputes between them, but their love for each other began to weaken only once the tree remained barren of fruit. But they kept up hope, saying that it will the next year.”

The travellers had found it hard to breath, as if there was a pressure on their lungs, squeezing them flat.

“But then, the royal found out they were dying, so they asked to buried under the mulberry tree. In their mind, their body would give the tree the nutrients it needed to finally bare the mulberries they so desperately craved. But no fruit had bore, making the spirit of the royal restless.”

Jongho coughed violently, thick red liquid dribbling down his chin, looking over to Mingi who was hunched over in pain. "But... that’s a fruitless... mulberry tree.”

It appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as their brows furrowed, scowl pulling at their lips, the swing stopped swinging. “And who are you to say that?”

“Because I study... goddamn plants.”

Then it clicked in Mingi’s head--what was going on. “Jongho... shut up--” His chest squeezed harder, a yelp escaping his lips as he toppled to the side.

“Carrying on from that rude interruption,” the person glared at the younger of the two, who was now lying on his side, curled into the foetal position, “the nobleman and servant then died a while after, and were buried side-by-side with the royal.”

Overgrown roots of the tree began to soften, becoming more flexible like snakes as they began to slither their way to the two young boys.

“But even their bodies weren’t enough. So the royal’s spirit swore to use whatever they could to make the tree finally bare fruit.”

The roots wrapped around each boys ankle, spiralling up until it wrapped the two of them in a cocoon. And neither of them could do anything, too tired to yell or move around, succumbing to the sweet release of sleep.

Getting up off the swing, the person rested their forehead on the trunk of the tree.

“And it will be the tastiest fruit. Better than any other on the markets.”

A/N: If you didn’t get it, the tree not growing any fruit was a metaphor of unrequited love. I feel like I didn’t really explain that properly, but there you go.

[tamakissimp]

B.K- I could never

READ PART ONE HERE

summary: Weeks after meeting Bakugou, you break and call him up for comfort. Unbeknownst to you, he has been dying to hear from you.

warnings: cursing, crying, guilt, Bakugou hating himself?

wordcount: 2099

a/n: the fact that we all just decided that Bakugou smells like caramel is so funny lol

Three weeks, five days, thirteen hours and six minutes. That's how long Bakugou hasn't seen you. To anyone who asked about it, he would groan that he couldn't give a rats ass about you. But he couldn't deny it to himself. Not when he was lying awake at ungodly hours, staring at his phone in hopes that you would call him.

What if you realized how much of a dick he is and decided that you didn't want to see him ever again? The thought of having fucked up after only seeing you for less than three minutes makes his gut curl up. It makes him want to sew his mouth shut to stop the hateful words from flowing out. Every day that passed by without a call from you adds to the pile of guilt building up inside him.

His words never mattered to him. Not when he yelled at his friends. Not when he screams awful words at his parents. Not when he told Izuku to jump off a fucking roof. Never did he think about how his words affected others. But when he saw the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, the cold and broken look in your eyes, that's when he knew he fucked up.

Ever since that godforsaken day, he hasn't said a mean word to his friends. Irritated ones, sure. But Izukua was suddenly spared from the usual insults. Denki didn't get called a dunce for everything he did. His father suddenly got hugs instead of rants about how pathetic he is. The change was weird and it makes everyone feel uneasy, though it wasn't unwelcome. All of a sudden, Bakugou wasn't associated with anger and insult, now it was just anger.

His damned anger, that seemed to grow with every day. Normally, his anger was pointed at others but now it was pointed at himself. Because he was the jackass that hurt you. He was the asshole that tainted your skin with disgusting words.

Why can you only say such hurtful things? He runs his fingers over those letters that taint his wrist. Even though his room is dark, the blue light coming off his phone is enough to illuminate the space to the point where he can still make out the words. Why could he only say hurtful things? It was a conscious decision that he made. The only thing that drove him into pushing people away was himself.

His ringtone sounds through his room. His body perks up. He reads the number on the screen. Unknown. He doesn't waste a second with answering it. "Hello?" he says. The softness of his voice surprises him.

"Hi," you say. He jumps off his bed. "It's...It's Y/n.". Your voice is still as kind as it was that day. Bakugou's heart skips a couple of beats at the sound of it. He didn't know how much he missed it until now.

"Hello, hi. How-How are you doing?" he asks. He doesn't even try to keep his voice down anymore. The people sleeping around him be damned. You're more important than they will ever be.

"I'm good. I'm great," you say. It stays silent for a couple of seconds. "Actually, I'm not. I'm fucking terrible.". Bakugou remains silent. He's sure that if he says anything, he'll fuck up again. "I know this is weird, like really fucking weird but could you....come over?".

Bakugou clams his phone between his cheek and shoulder and quickly starts pulling his shoes onto his feet. "That's...weird. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," you say. His heart aches at the words. "You know what, just forget it. Forget I called, okay?".

"No," he says firmly. You're silence by him, taking aback for a bit. "I'm coming over, alright? Text me your address.". It isn't a question, it's a command. You need him. You're doing bad, something in you wanted him there so he well crosses all the seven seas just to get to you.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I'll do that," you say. Bakugou hums in acknowledgement as he closes the door of his dorm behind him. "I'm gonna hang up now, okay? And I'll...I guess I'll see you in a bit.".

"I'll see you," he says. The click of you ending the call bounces through his ears before he grabs his phone and opens his messages. The address you sent him is all too familiar. The general studies dorm. Curses fly out under his breath as he roughly stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. He doesn't have time to wait for the elevator. Instead, he runs towards the stairs.

Bakugou runs down the stairs with a speed that would put Iida to shame. While the walk to the general studies dorms would normal take him five minutes, Bakugou manages to do it in under two. He finds you already standing outside of the building. A blanket is wrapped around your body. The hood of your hoodie is pulled over your head, covering your hair.

As he gets closer and closer to you, the state you're in becomes more clear to him. Your eyes are bloodshot, your chin is wobbling and dried tears have stained your cheeks. Even though you look like you're one second away from breaking, there is still a smile on your lips. That damned smile that makes Bakugou's heart skip a beat. "Hey," you say.

Bakugou doesn't say anything. Instead, he pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap around you, head burying in the crook of your neck. The sudden human contact was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. Another stream of tears rushes down your cheeks. Sobs shake through your bones as you bite your lip to keep the sounds in. It's only when the disgusting taste of blood fills your mouth that you let the sounds go.

Pathetic whimpers and sniffles ring through the night as you bury your face into Bakugou's chest. The smell of burnt caramel floods your nose and calms you down. Who knew something so sweet could be so comforting?

"Let it all out," Bakugou whispers. His hands run up and down your spine. Everything feels foreign to him. He is never one to comfort others, though, with you, it comes naturally. His body immediately knows how to calm you down and bring you back to a relaxed state.

You whisper apologies out in between sobs and ragged breaths. Even when you're falling apart in front of a total stranger you're still trying to comfort him. Running your fingers through his hair, saying praises through your apologies. It all tugs onto Bakugou's heart. Nothing in him should deserve someone as kind as you. Yet the universe still decided to tie you to together through an eternal bound of your souls.

Bakugou grabs your wrist and brings it up to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto your soulmate marks. Those words. Those words that caused you so much pain and made you fear for the moment you would meet your soulmate. Those words that he put there.

"Don't be sorry," Bakugou says. "Don't ever be sorry for feeling. Don't be sorry for crying. Got it?". You nod at him. He gently wipes the tears off your face with his thumb. "If you feel shitty, you come to me. You come to me and you do anything that helps.".

You pull away from Bakugou, now standing in front of him. It's only now that you notice his bare arms. He forgot to grab a jacket in his rush. You peel the blanket off your shoulder and hold it out to him. He shakes his head but you just push it closer to him. "Please," you say. He rolls his eyes before taking the plush material from you.

Bakugou wraps it over his shoulder. He was probably going to regret only wearing a tank top tomorrow but right now, he didn't care. "Idiot," he says as he snuggles further into the blanket. "You're going to catch a cold.". You just shake your head as you stuff your hands into the front pouch of your hoodie.

"No, you are," you say. The tears have stopped flowing down your cheeks and a smile adorns them now instead.

"Gonna tell me what's going on?" Bakugou asks. You nod, staring down at the ground. You start to fiddle with your hand. Bakugou lifts his hand and places two fingers on the underside of your chin. He lifts your head up to force you to look at him. "Come on.".

"I'm so sorry for making you wait," you say. Bakugou is taken aback by your words. "I'm your soulmate for fucks sake. And I just ignored you for weeks, that's such an asshole thing to do. I'm sorry.".

Bakugou cups your face. He shakes his head. You stare into his red eyes. There's a certain softness hidden behind the fire burning in them. "Don't. Be. Sorry," Bakugou says. The words are hard for him to say. He never opens himself up to people. Up until a few weeks ago, he did nothing but hurdle insults at people like it was nothing.

It was the only thing he knew how to do; be a bully. Yet here he is. Holding his soulmate like they're made of glass. Afraid to say anything because the has already fucked up the very second he met them. He has permanently marked them with the insults he uses.

"You aren't supposed to be sorry," he continues. "You're supposed to be fucking mad at me. You're supposed to hate me, not be sorry.". You shake your head at his words. You reach your hands up to runs them over his face. Your pointer fingers smooth out the furrow of his brow.

"I could never," you whisper. Bakugou's chin wobbles at your words. Vulnerability is new to him. Just saying these words feel like he's ripping his chest open and showing you his heart.

He's waiting for you to reach in and pull it out. For you to throw his heart on the ground and stomp on it. Instead, you gently stroke it. You say loving words to him while he did nothing to deserve them."How could I hate my soulmate?".

✨bonus✨

The bright sun shines into your skin. Crisp air bites into your nose yet the cold doesn't seem to phase you. Bakugou's hand is intertwined with yours.  You smile at him as he continues to talk about his day.

"So Kiri just came out of nowhere with five fucking bowls of noodles because that idiot order way too fucking much," Bakugou says. You nod at him. Months ago, Bakugou would have referred to his friend as 'shitty hair' or some other demeaning nickname. Now, Kirishima got the privilege of having a kinder nickname; Kiri.

Bakugou looks down at you while you keep on smiling at him. "What's up with the goofy look?" he asks. One of his brows is raised. You shake your head as a giggle escapes your lips. Bakugou's heart warms up at the sound. Even now, months after knowing you, the sounds still make him feel lovesick.

"Nothing," you say. You give his hand a gentle squeeze. You move your eyes from his handsome face to the birds flying out of the tree around you. "Just glad that you're here.".

A blush dusts over Bakugou's cheeks. Every cell in his body is set afire. All he can do is stop walking and pull you into a tight hug. You don't hesitate to return it. His body clings into your almost desperately.

"You always say such sappy shit," he mumbles into your hair. You just laugh as you wiggle yourself out of his grasp a bit. Your hand reaches up to gently stroke his cheek. Bakugou stares into your eyes with a passion you didn't know existed until that cold night outside of your dorms. "I love you," he whispers.

You stay silent for a second. Your mind is too busy with admiring his beauty to register his words. Did he just say that he loves you? Nervousness washes through Bakugou's body. Did he say it too soon? What if you don't love him? Did he fuck up?

"I love you too," you say. Those words shut up every doubt in his mind. A dorky smile spreads over his lips before he pulls you in for a kiss. His kisses are normally rough and hungry. This one is different. It's gently and filled to the brim with love. He pulls away after a few moments. "I love you too," you repeat.

[mango-bango-bby]

✨mango-senpai, mango-senpai,✨ can i request a comfort fic for Dabi whos darling is very insecure because she has some self harm scars in which some are recent and shes scared because she used to get bullied because of em but he tries to let her know that its ok, no matter how bad they are, no matter how many she has, he will love her regardless, mans full of burns and scars, a whole crispy bacon and we love him either way🥺(💖✨ilysm mango-mango😖👉👈✨💖)

♡ Scars ♡

(A/N: Hello, darling 💖💓💕💞💗 I’m sorry about you self-harm, baby. I’ve dealt with the same things in the past, I hope that this comforts you a bit 👉👈 I hope you like this, sweetie!! I love you too!!!!)

Summary: Dabi cleans up some of your recent injuries, after doing so, he learns how insecure you are about the scars that these injuries have left behind (Yan!Dabi x GN!reader)

(⚠️Warning: Self-harm and insecurities about said self-harm scars ⚠️)

You try to pull your arm away from Dabi but he tightens his grip on you slightly when you do so. You sat stiff on the couch, Dabi kneeling on the ground in front of you while wrapping a bandage around your arm. Dabi thought he had baby-proofed every single dangerous thing in his apartment but you still somehow found a way to hurt yourself.

You hunch your back, you entire body convulsing with your sobs. “I’m sorry” you hiccup, using the arm that’s not in Dabi’s grip to wipe the large tears falling down your cheeks. “Please do-don’t b-be mad” You ask quietly as Dabi finishes wrapping your injures, he hasn’t really said anything since he got home to you hurting yourself. Only sitting you on the couch and expertly bandaging and cleaning your wounds, as though he’s done this before.

“I’m not mad at you, doll, I’m just-” Dabi huffs, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of seeing the only person he cares about hurting themselves. “Don’t do it again, baby” Dabi speaks, lowering his voice in an attempt to comfort you, picking up your arm to look over the bandages. He wants to make sure he bandaged and took care of every single injuries on your beautiful skin.

“I-I’m sorry” You whimper, once again. Only Dabi stands up, plopping down on the couch next to you, sighing before pulling you onto his lap. He tightly holds onto your waist, burying his face into your neck, leaving kisses all over your skin. You let out another hiccup before bringing your hands to cover your eyes.

“Do y-you still love me?” You blubber, you know that it’s a silly question. Ever since you started self harming you had been bullied and ridiculed about it and about how no one could love you if you were so messed up.

Dabi only pulls away from your neck and looks up at you with, an almost amused look on his face. “With a face like mine, do you really think that a couple little scars are gonna’ deter me?” Dabi chuckles, gesturing to his stapled and burnt face. That was true, Dabi was completely covered in scars. Almost his entire body was burnt to a crisp.

“Trust me, kitty. There is absolutely nothing in this world, or even universe, could take me away from you and stop me from loving you” Dabi speaks, placing a rough kiss onto you. He’s telling the truth. No matter what life throws at him or whatever tries to take you away from him, he WILL find away to get you back with him. He’s already shown you that, almost six months ago, when h e had kidnapped you so you could be with him forever. You didn’t understand at first but after four months you started to return his feelings.

“Y-You promise, right?” You ask, uncovering your face, looking down at Dabi with blood shot eyes. Your eyes show how much you’ve been crying. Dabi only looks up at you, his gleaming blue eyes already telling you his answer.

“Do you think I’d lie to you, angelface?”

“No”

“Good, cause I wouldn’t”

[xx-narcissa]

Can’t Wait Any Longer

warnings: kidnapping, poisoning, noncon

a/n: i wasn’t comfortable with full on smut right now, i’m still easing into it. but i hope that this was written to your liking!

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Avenger!Reader

request: “We can have dark! r x nat where r is an avenger and is in love with nat but nat never pays attention to her, so r decides to kidnap her maybe with some smut only if you feel comfortable.”

Masterlist

(not my gif)

Your blood boiled as you watched the scene in front of you. Bruce kissing her hand in front of everybody with no shame. He should be ashamed. That was your hand to kiss and he was just all on it! And she let him. Giggling and blushing like a middle school girl getting a love note from her crush.

“Aw. Young love.” Tony chuckled and took a big sip of his beer. You wanted to smack the glass bottle out of his hands for that comment. “Better enjoy it while it lasts, Bruce.”

Yeah. He better enjoy it. Because you’re going to make it your mission to take her back. Although you never really had her in the first place. But she’s yours. Bruce doesn’t deserve her. Nobody deserves her. Because they could never give her what you can. They could never love her like you do. She just doesn’t see that. Always brushing you off to the side.

It was a mission in Canada, so naturally it was pretty cold. And seeing as it was the middle of January, it was very cold. You offered her your jacket. “No, you keep it. I’m fine.” Even when you insisted, she turned you down. Yet later you see her casually sporting Steve’s jacket. What’s up with that? You wanted to confront her. What did his jacket have that yours didn’t? But Wanda assured you it wasn’t a big deal. And that’s not even the only time she’s done something like that. You and her were in the kitchen after a mission, and she complained about her shoulders being sore. So you offered to massage them, claiming you know a really good way to relieve tension. You didn’t. But it was just an excuse to be able to feel her. She turned you down. Then later she’s bragging to Wanda about how good Tony is at massages. What was so special about him? Nothing! But it seemed like Natasha would stop at nothing to push you away.

You don’t even know what you did to deserve that kind of treatment. Sure, you flirt with her a lot. But it’s never to a creepy extent. Just casual compliments and offering to do her favors. If she wasn’t into you, she could just turn you down using her words and then maybe you’d back off. But instead she was playing hard to get.

And that only made you want her more.

-=-

There was a mission today. A two person mission. You and Natasha. This would be a perfect chance for the two of you to get closer. It’s a week long stakeout. Usually you don’t like stakeouts, since you feel it’s a waste of your powers. You can literally summon fire with your hands and not get burnt and they want you to watch a building? How boring. But since it’s with Natasha, you won’t complain. Alone time with her is a reward in its own. And it gives you a chance to finally execute the plan you’ve been working on for weeks.

“Guess this is where we’re staying for the next week.” You sighed as the two of you entered the little apartment. The wallpaper was moldy and peeling, there were roaches crawling around, and it smelled like 50 diseased rats died in there.

She gagged and put her bag on top of the counter. “Well let’s just try to get this done quickly, so that we don’t have to spend any extra time here. It’s disgusting.”

Nodding in agreement, you continued to explore the apartment. There was only one bedroom with only one bed, so you made a mental note to let her sleep there, since it looked cleaner than the couch. The shower was just as disgusting as the main room, but you brought shower shoes so you could live with it. After your quick tour, you met back up with Natasha in the main room, where she was going through her bag.

“I’ll take the couch. You can have the bed.” You offered and sat down on the counter.

“Are you sure? That’s nice but I don’t want to take it all for myself. We could alternate if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. And trust me, the bed is way cleaner so if I were you I’d just take it.” You snapped. She flinched, and you knew you took it a bit too far. It’s just annoying when she constantly declines your offers when you’re just trying to be nice and make her comfortable. “Sorry. Just…yeah. You take the bed, I’ll go check the perimeter and see if there’s anything to eat nearby.”

After your perimeter check you picked up some sandwiches at the small subway they had down the street and brought them back up to the apartment. “Thanks, I’m starving.” She sighed happily when you walked in with food. To be honest, being back in that nasty apartment killed your appetite a bit, but you hadn’t eaten all day so you sucked it up and ate.

The two of you ate and got to talk a bit, getting to know each other some more. Well, she got to know you. But you already knew plenty about her. You’re just a good listener like that. The most important thing was that she was starting to trust you more, which would be a key part in putting your plan into motion.

Once you guys finished your mission and got all the information you needed, you still had a day to spare. So you decided you’d stay and just not tell them you were done yet, so you can get a little vacation, even if it is in a dingy, dirty apartment. It was your last morning there, so you wanted to surprise Natasha with some homemade breakfast. Special recipe.

“Good morning! You want pancakes?” She thought for a second before nodding. Great, she took the offer with none of her usual resistance. You placed some pancakes on a plate and gave her a glass of orange juice. “Tell me if you like it.” You smiled and sat down next to her to watch her eat. She ate the first bite cautiously, then ate the rest rather quickly.

After drinking all the juice, she slammed the cup onto the table. “Those were the best pancakes I’ve ever had.”

“Well, you know, I could always make you more.” You smiled and ran your fingers up her arm. And she smiled back. That’s a win in your eyes.

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that offer. But I’m pretty full right now. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go take a quick nap.”

You waved her off and then put the dishes in the sink. Everything was falling into place and you couldn’t be happier.

-=-

When her eyes opened, she didn’t know what was going on or where she was. It seemed like some abandoned factory by the looks of it. Her clothes didn’t belong to her. And she couldn’t even get up to look around, seeing as she was tied up on the floor.

In the shadows, she saw something moving. Maybe it would be her captor. And she could kick their ass and escape.

“Oh, you’re up! Great.” Her heart and her mouth dropped at the voice. “Sorry about the location. Couldn’t find anywhere comfortable on such short notice.”

She looked up at you with tears forming in her eyes. “What’s going on, why are you doing this? Are you being brainwashed or something?”

You laughed at her stupid questions. “What ever do you mean? This is all me, Natasha. I’m sorry to have to do this, but you brought it onto yourself. You could’ve had this.” You motioned towards yourself and got closer to her. “But no. You wanted to toy with me. Play hard to get. Pretend you don’t want me and then flirt with everyone else right in front of my face. Well I’m done playing those games. So no more playful flirting. I’m taking what’s mine.”

“You’re sick. I swear, I’m not to get out of here and then I’m going to kill you! Slowly and painfully.” She screamed and squirmed around in her restraints.

All her struggling was amusing to you. It gave you a good laugh. “I know you’re a trained assassin, but it’s not like you have superpowers. Without a gun you really pose no threat to me. Hell, if I’m not careful I could kill you right now.” Your hands ignited, displaying your pyrokinesis, just in case she had forgotten that you could burn her to a crisp whenever you would like.

It worked, because she shut up. She looked down at the ground in silence, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Oh, cheer up. Once your spirit is broken down enough and I know you won’t try anything funny, I’ll untie you and we can leave and live a happy life together. I might hurt you, but it’s just because I love you. I love you so much and it hurts me when you flirt with other people. So once you’re as loyal as I am, then we’ll get out of this smelly place. Okay?”

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t do anything. That angered you. So you slapped her in her face. The force being enough to topple her over. And that wasn’t even the hardest you could’ve hit her. “Answer me, bitch!” You yelled and got close to her face, probably getting some spit on her but you didn’t care. “Do you understand me?”

She nodded frantically and tried to move away from you. So you let her squirm for a second before pulling her back. Seeing the Black Widow shaking in fear really turned you on. You needed to see her. To feel her.

“You know, you should thank me. I changed your clothes and I didn’t even touch you down there. I restrained myself.” You grabbed her hips and dug your nails into them, pulling her closer. “Mainly because I want to hear you when I fuck you. I want to see what your pretty little face looks like when you’re all filled up. But also because I’m decent. So, yeah, you’re welcome.”

You closed the gap between you two and your lips collided with hers. For you it was heaven. It was erotic and steamy and everything you’ve ever wished for. But for her it was a completely different story. It was hell. Sloppy, painful, and lacking any true feelings. Even if she wasn’t kissing you back, you still enjoyed yourself. Your hands went underneath the shirt you gave her, cupping her braless breasts. She involuntarily leaned into your touch, moaning softly, allowing you to slide your tongue into her. Your hand slid down, cupping her heat through her panties, feeling the wetness of her arousal. “See? You’re enjoying yourself,” You pulled away from the kiss to say. You kissed down her neck, biting and leaving marks. She hated how her body betrayed her and got turned on. But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. You were in control.

And she hated the feeling of emptiness she felt when you stopped and stood back up, leaving her still on the ground. “Yeah. We’re gonna have so much fun. Not yet, but soon. Until then, I’ll be back. I’m going to go get some food. You stay here.” You laughed at your own sentence, “Get it? It’s funny ‘cause you can’t go anywhere!” You continued to laugh until you had left the warehouse, leaving her alone and confused.

You were gone for probably two hours. But to Natasha it felt like days. The whole time she was looking for a way out, yet there was nothing. You were thorough with this place, making sure there wasn’t anything sharp she could reach to cut the rope, or anything she could climb on to get out through one of the windows.

When you came back, Natasha was curled into a ball silently crying. “Cheer up. I got you some food from this nice ramen place. Maybe I can take you there one day.” You put the food down on the floor in front of her and even gave her some water.

“You know, they’re going to wonder why I never came back. And then they’re going to find me and kill you! Pervert!” She spat. Instead of arguing back like she wanted you to, you laughed and walked away, leaving her alone to eat. The rest of the day she sat there thinking about how alone and scared she was. She didn’t know if she’d ever see her family again.

You won. This time.