#this is purely about me and creating content and my mind blanking out when i want to say something

[torawro]

WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out…..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you. 

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives. 

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear. 

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat. 

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck. 

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.” 

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart  never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him. 

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a  challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours.  “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

[daycourtofficial]

Gift Exchange

Summary: you and Azriel exchange solstice gifts in private, amazed at the thoughtfulness of each other’s gifts.

Author’s note: this is PURE FLUFF okay you could make stuffed animals out of this

At the end of the night, after everyone else went to bed, you went back up to your room to grab your gift for Azriel. You met him in the hallway between your rooms and invited him into yours.

You had asked if you could exchange gifts privately - citing the fact that Cassian would be very upset at the gift you got for Azriel and that the last thing you need this Solstice is another one of Cassian’s gift-related tantrums.

You hand Azriel the thick envelope, allowing him to pull out the contents. He analyzes the papers, then looks at you quizzically, “it’s blank parchment.”

You place your hand on the paper saying, “I am a nosy busybody” and when you pull your hand away, Azriel watches as ink begins staining the paper, creating a map of the house of wind. The map has all of the floors, even the floors in the library. All of the rooms are labelled, and looking he sees names on the map that are moving.

“You once told me that you hated going on missions because you didn’t know what was happening back at home, so I created an enchanted map for you to see. It shows all of us in real time - see here we are in my room.”

He looks at where you’re pointing and sees both of your names, except yours has a little heart next to it.

He’s shocked for words - this is the most thought out gift he had ever received. The amount of time it must have taken for you to create this is making his head spin. Not to mention when he told you he hated being gone, he was mainly thinking of you and being afraid something was happening to you.

“Um I also made two other maps - one for the townhouse and one for Feyre and Rhys’s new home. I know you usually leave some shadows behind to watch over us when you’re gone, so I figured this way you could have extra peace of mind that we’re okay.”

He can hear the nerves in your voice and he’s not going to correct you that he only leaves shadows behind to watch over you. He leaves one or two to watch over the houses, but he leaves about 5 or 6 who watch over you the entire time he’s gone. He had no idea you even realized he did that.

He looks into your eyes, watching you ramble before telling you, “this is the best gift I’ve ever received”. You beam with pride at this news - thrilled that he likes your gift so much.

“Honestly,” he continues, “this makes my gift look like rubbish.”

You shake your head. “No way, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you got for me.”

He had two boxes for you to open - the first one was a rare, first edition of a book that you adore. “This book must be over a thousand years old!” You exclaim, amazed the book is in such good condition. “I believe it only had one owner during it’s lifetime. Open it to the title page,” he tells you, grinning at your excitement.

“And it’s signed!” You exclaim, pure joy radiating off of you. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You exclaim, embracing him so tightly Azriel thinks you might kill him. There are worse ways to go, he thinks.

“You have one more to open,” he coughs, a nervous energy taking over him. You take the smaller box from him, removing the lid. Inside is a beautiful cobalt blue gem necklace and matching earrings. You’re stunned by how beautiful they are, even letting out a soft ‘wow’. You pull the necklace out of the box, and you realize the necklace is the same color has his siphons.

“How did you find something that matched your siphons so perfectly?” You ask, not taking your eyes off the necklace. “I didn’t,” he replies, and you realize then that he had parts of his siphon turned into the jewelry you’re wearing. You look into his eyes, about to ask him for more, but he speaks before you can.

“I uh, figured since you carry my heart everywhere with you, you might as well display it.” Your brain must be short-circuiting, because surely you misheard him. “I love you, and I uh hope that you might feel the same and want to carry me with you everywhere you go.”

You’re not sure what to say, you keep looking between his lips and his eyes and the necklace, when you figure out what to do. You turn around, handing him the necklace, sweeping your hair to the side. A gentle request: put your mark on me.

Azriel takes the necklace in his hands, guiding the chain around your neck, clasping it into place. Once secured, you turn around, and lunge for him, wrapping your hands around his neck and jaw, holding him in place, you press everything into the kiss. Every desire, every laugh between you two, every moment. He kisses you back just as fiercely, sliding his hands down to your thighs, prompting you to jump into his arms, wrapping your thighs around his waist.

You break away from the kiss to catch a breath. “Happy solstice,” you tell him, as he kisses down your neck. “I think you have one last present to unwrap!” You can feel him laugh into your neck as you bring his head back up to kiss him some more.

[good-night-doll]

Tis the season~

•Part 5–Dancing

: As the Christmas season creeps around the corner, you can't help but want to show your girlfriend all the different activities there are to the season other than decapitating the jolly fat man. 

Requested: No

Word count: 990

Warnings: none

Tis the season for families, couples and friends alike to share their different types of admiration for each other through a special activity- one that dates back to the 3300 BCE, where Egyptians had first incorporated the act in a religious nature.

But in the modern world we've become, dance is more for fun- so humans and animals can communicate through a different type of language that requires no second guessing if done correctly, one that everyone could understand with the right choreographic intent.

And from what Wednesday has told me, she rarely dances. She's said that I could only find her dancing during her pure moments of disgust- that it would have to be under a full blood moon when she'd dissect all her frogs and rats for a disclosed ritual.

So… why not try and have some fun?

We're both sat with content hearts on the couch, a twinkling Christmas tree illuminating the room to a dim, romantic-like setting. Its tinsel glistened and reflected the light source, making it shine ever so bright before fading into the darkness.

The TV is off, but our phone screens dampen our faces with its functions even on the lowest setting.

Our silent breathing mixed into one as our minds work on different things. Wednesday was planning out her novel… another one. And I'm retrieving data from my boss- not the most exciting thing in the world.

She's been emailing me like she was a full blown stalker, but with the correct reasoning for clearance of course. And she's unravelled my nerves enough to gently prod them with her ballistic attempts of threats through the device screen.

I hadn't even messed up anything at work and she's uptight and upset about something, and it has me frustrated.

With a rebellious groan, I throw my phone down on the couch beside me, believing for a moment that if I were to throw the phone, I'd be throwing her absurd accusations away too.

Wednesday had clearly noticed as her head had drawn ever so slightly away from the confinements of her scarf, the tip of her nose peeking at me with certain questioning.

I turn my head, defeatedly as I glance at a blank spot on the wall- its bare surface creating a sense of vengeance in an unforeseen way.

"What's wrong?" Wednesday pipes up, shuffling silently as she awaits a response to her question.

I sigh, still staring at the wall "my boss expects too much of me"

"Isn't that what bosses do? They expect so much from people without putting themselves in their position?" I turn to her, a small glimmer in her dark eyes and a tiny tug at the edge of her Oh-so-kissable lips has me swooning within seconds. "It's Christmas time, like you said, and you said we'd spend the whole time together doing "entertaining" activities- even if they have no significant benefit"

I smile at her attitude, feeling my cheeks stiffen in a sway of admiration. She's right- she's always right! It's Wednesday Addams- the girl has had a toll on our surrounding society for months now and yet she's always right.

"Yeah" I gulp down my guilt, resurfacing with an activity fresh on my mind. "How about we try dancing?"

Wednesday's face almost immediately drops again- going back into that almost robotic-like state as her eyes once again pierce me like a stake to a Vampire's heart. "Dancing" she grumbles.

"Yeah, comn'! I'll teach you!" I beam, my eyes forming crescent moons and minimising my vision into a small crack.

"I know how to dance" she scoffs, standing with her posture as perfect as ever. I watch as she takes a few steps back before she begins to move.

Her movements are stiff but flowy, contrasting in a perfect mix that suited her perfectly. Her arms swayed to her hips and her face stayed strong with no sign of emotion for the duration. But the thing that had me sold the most, was the wide eyed seductive-like glare she shot straight through me. It's as if she's able to see every inch of my brain with that look.

A smile raises my cheeks as I laugh quietly under my breath at her small and oddly seductive choreography.

Grabbing my phone, I open my music and scroll down till I find a song that's calling me. Pressing play, I stand and interrupt Wednesday with a small wave of my hands.

"Put your hands uh-" I guide her hands to my shoulders as I wearily grip her small waist. "Yeah, like that"

"I've never done this before" she quips, a dumbfounded expression playing with her face.

"Well…" I smile "there's a time for everything" I guide her along to the soft Melody, our bodies so close that I could feel the chill of her skin rub against my own even with the gap we have between us.

Her dark but wide eyes are heavily trained on my own, her pink tongue dangerously sticking out to dampen her kissed lips.

I've never seen Wednesday so… perfect before. It's like all the stars in the night sky have realigned to create a beautiful astrology piece. Except Wednesday is far more superior than dozens of flaming balls of light painted across the sky during the night.

"Where did you learn to dance like this?" Wednesday inquires, her eyebrows raising slightly in surprise once I respond, explaining how I learnt to dance in such a way at my uncle's wedding.

"Right foot back, left foot over and across, right foot over and forward" Listing the movements was only a short-lived task as Wednesday had quickly picked up on the repetitive fancy footwork.

We continue to slowly dance our way through the song until it comes to an eventual end where a long silence follows- allowing only the strums of our heartbeats to play the instrument of love for us both.

And it's not like I'm going to complain anytime soon...

[yooniesim]

Hey nonny, thank you for telling me this! And thank you for considering my well being 💜 I blocked the names out of your ask because... I'm going to be honest, I've never heard of either of these people, I have no idea who they are. I tried checking, but nothing comes up, so I assume the one that didn't deactivate has me blocked out of fear. This isn't unexpected- I've dealt with plenty of irrelevant blogs like this before. They would probably like a mention, but can't handle direct confrontation in DMs. They can only manage anons that agree with them, blow smoke up their asses, and make them feel good about themselves for what they're doing. It's much easier to delete anons that disagree with you so no one else sees them and only post the ones that do, creating whatever narrative you like. Don't worry- I'm well-versed in the tactics of a full-time terminally online hater lmfao. But that being said, off the top of my head, I'm drawing a blank for who they could be or what, if any, content they create. So if anyone is trying to start drama for clout... well, we know who it is, don't we?

(This reply got pretty long/rambly and isn't all relevant, so I'm going to throw the rest under a cut- sorry nonny!)

...I think it's very strange, that even when I've been mostly on hiatus for quite a long time, and haven't done shit, I'm still such a strong presence in so many minds. I don't quite get the obsession, though I imagine it's jealously and frustration that I somehow keep existing when they'd prefer I didn't. Which- I'd kind of understand if it was someone I had history with, but I really have no idea who these particular losers are, so I can only conclude that it's just a need for attention...? I don't know.

Look, I'll say right now, it's fine if someone thinks I'm not friendly. It's alright if they make posts, and answer a bunch of anons about me. People can spend their limited free time however they want, and if they choose to spend it on me for... some unknown reason... that's their right, even if it is odd in my opinion. I don't read these posts. I've been here long enough and pissed off enough people that there are quite a few bigots and generally not well-adjusted people obsessed with me that go to ask boxes to spew untrue nonsense, that morons like the OPs you mentioned gladly eat up, and there's nothing I can do about that. As much as simblr loves to pretend otherwise... it loves drama and toxicity, it loves hating on acceptable targets when they get the chance, and they really love a good circlejerk. It thrives on finding the next conflict, especially if it gives them the chance to feel superior to someone else. That won't change, and as long as it's like that, people like the OPs and posts like the ones they made will continue to exist.

And as much as it sounds that way, I'm not coming at this from purely a lecturing standpoint. I know this so well because, yes- as I've mentioned many times- I've been in the same position of that toxic feedback loop. Drama on the internet can be a rush, it can be fun, it can be exciting. Even if you start with good intentions and consider yourself to just be speaking the "truth", it's easy to fall into a narrative that is much more toxic than you realize. That's something I had to recognize in myself, take a step back, and think about the fact that it isn't about the truth, it's about word choice and choosing your battles. Every little issue and every little thing you dislike about someone else doesn't need to be spoken aloud, doesn't need their own post. But that's what I was doing, to the detriment of myself and those around me. That, yes, was very "unfriendly" and abrasive.

Though I also think that people here don't quite understand the... social pressure that gets put on people that speak out or share their opinions here. I started out just wanting to talk about one issue- paywalls, largely- but once I started, I quickly started to get requests for my opinions on other topics. (A lot like I still do now, but I delete or ignore 90% of them) And since I was very blunt/free with my opinions, people started to seek me out more and more. I got a lot of attention very quickly from people that had much larger followings, and much more of both fans and haters, than I did. They started vague posting me or mentioning me outright, which sent waves of asks my way, and much more attention very fast. From the very jump, I was getting ostracized/demonized by one group of people while getting low-key idolized for being honest by another. I'll admit, it was nice in some ways, but very stressful in others. Suddenly, instead of just sharing my opinion online to a void, it became that people started treating me as some voice of reason, or that I had an obligation to speak for them. I got more and more asks about various topics, from paywalls to bigotry to minor "injustices" from simblr #4632. I started wanting to back off as it got bigger, but there was always something happening, always something someone wanted me to talk about or "bring awareness" to, always someone poking & prodding me whether it was with good intentions or bad ones. It was overwhelming. I felt like I couldn't focus on, well, the sims, because how jarring was it to be in a serious conversation about racism and then posting random gameplay? And the lines between what was an important issue and what was just petty drama started to blur more and more. What was necessary for me to say, and what was just plain mean? It became more and more difficult for me to distinguish in this public persona I had created.

I started spending more time on discord in hopes of backing off some, but that only made it worse- I was inexperienced with having my own server, incompetent really, and the same problems I had here were magnified ten times there. Anything I said or did was under a lense by both the people that agreed with me and those that didn't, the negative and "truthful" environment I advertised only invited more toxic and drama-seeking people to me, and while I did my best to hide behind my blunt/straightforward exterior, it got scary very fast. There was a lot of pressure to do everything "right" at all times, to always be there as a mouthpiece for others and for the "truth", but no one can be correct all the time. And the pressure, along with the weight of what was happening to me offline, was suffocating. It was as if people were always watching me, waiting for me to slip up or be vulnerable so they could get to me, and I couldn't keep that from happening forever. Because quite a few people didn't like me for being annoying or negative or speaking my mind, when I started getting targeted by bigots more extremely, it was celebrated by quite a few big people here, even those that claim to be advocates and allies. They reveled in the chance to get at me in some way, even if they had to rub shoulders with blatant racists and transphobes to do so, and if there was anything that woke me up to the true nature of drama and "activism" here, it was that. The truth was, drama wasn't an unfortunate consequence of speaking your mind about important issues- it was the goal. Everything I had ever done or said was just a spectacle, entertainment. I had deluded myself into thinking I was doing something important, when I was actually just being laughed at and used. There's nothing being done here that's truly important. It's fuel for egos, and something to engage in when you're bored. That's it. But I was the dumbass sitting there at the center of it all, the face that could take it all while everyone else disappeared once they were bored.

But by the time I realized this, well. I was already in quite deep, wasn't I? I guess the question is, how do you extract yourself from a bad situation, and a bad reputation for that matter, when your personality and intentions have already been decided and declared by others? It's been several years now, quite a while since I recognized where I was going wrong and set on the journey to cut that shit out of my life, but it still persists and I don't expect it to go away anytime soon. Truth is, there's quite a few people that really, really dislike me, even people I've never interacted with, and there's absolutely nothing I can do to change their minds. There's people that I haven't mentioned or thought about in years that still mention me regularly, publicly and privately. I've apologized many times, decided to move on and never mention them again, and stuck with that- despite never receiving apologies or the same grace myself. And at the end of the day, that's all I can really do. Change my behavior and try to ignore the people that can't do the same for themselves.

I do find it funny you say that the post is about me trying to create drama for clout, though- because let's be honest, that ship has sailed lol. I've gotten more "clout" for drama than anyone else on simblr ever has, I definitely don't need to say anything to get more. I've been blocked and/or mentioned by almost every simblr, especially paywallers and every "popular" blog that's been forming parasocial relationships here since they were 12, on every platform, from tumblr to twt to discord to anon sites. I can't keep my name out of people's mouths even when I do my best to mind my damn business. When you're that infamous, you really don't have to try, do you? 😂 and since I've never heard of these OPs, I can only assume they're hoping to get a little advertisement from me, which I'm not about to give them lol. at this point, I'm trying to do a reverse on the clout. Let's bring it down a little, how about that 😭

[kyeomblr]

hai im still alive <3

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm.   Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.  Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her.  He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered.  They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape. 

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic.  Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him.  In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate.  “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”.  If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought.  That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this.   He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents.  He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian.  He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions.  Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way.  So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings.  He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings.  She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him.  Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under.  He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside.  He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.  

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think.  “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”. 

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head.  “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment.  It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first.  Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.  

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room.  Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.  

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look.  As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff.  Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously.  Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him.  Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap.  Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye.  Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.  Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.  He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge.  There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar.  Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside.  He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg.  With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other. 

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him.  He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket.  “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee. 

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him.  Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power.  It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse.  There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured.  She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights.  She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now.  She was getting increasingly antsy,  Jason was probably worried sick about her.  

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.”  Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there.  “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches.  It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room. 

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?” 

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder.  The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet. 

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side.  More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”.  She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse.  “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining.  She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one.  She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly.  Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic.  Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm.  She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout.  A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette.  Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her.  He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug,  Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck.   He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head.  “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason:  I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason:  I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

[theredsuzuran]

Douma x reader - Innocence

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Took me a long time to upload a new content am so sorry for the delay I was really busy with school assignments therefore I cannot manage the time to write. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors on my behalf, I hope you enjoy.

Warning : Dark themes like gore, blood and violence, degradation and swearing, mature content.

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The moon shone brightly above the sky as it's light leak through the branches illuminating the famous building of the eternal paradise cult. A new set of followers rushed into the dwelling in hopes of fulfilling their selfish desires, diminishing their agonies and enriching their possessions. However a particular human with her tattered kimono seem not to be interested to convey anything although the people around her would die to witness even a glimpse of the charismatic leader as for now she was busy running along the wide long corridors

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed throughout the building as a herd of followers attempted on catching the miscreant who disrupted the peaceful atmosphere prevailing over the supreme cult. The already annoyed and frustrated people were all worked up to catch the energetic human who on the other hand have thoughts of escaping this place they called paradise. If only she was careful enough to notice her mother's strange behavior soon as they entered the place but how can you possibly blame an innocent little girl like her, or so she thought. Afraid she might lose sight of her treacherous mother who abandoned her just moments ago she desparety stumbled her way out although that didn't concerned her simple thinking process but that's exactly how complicated the situation was.

Turning one last time to look behind if those weird people were still following her or not when suddenly she bumped into a Tall muscular figure standing infront of her soft delicate frame she must have missed him approaching while focusing on looking behind. "Please just leave me alone!" The girl fumed coherently still overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing towards her like waves something that she was not accustomed with as for eighteen years she lived indoors interacting rarely with anyone and playing with dolls most of the time.

"Watch your tongue brat" one of the men standing beside the tall man spoke with disgust hinted in his voice. "Crouch down you insolent woman, where's your gratitude it's because of lord Douma's benevolence that you are still here or you'd be rotting in the street thanks to your mother", the people around her started whispering and murmuring behind her back but she was not bother since her senses were filled with newfound wrath how dare they insult your angel like mother? No longer able to contain your anger you shouted with tears "Then take me to my mother, I don't want to stay here alone".

"Your mother abandoned you here so shut up and deal with it, now move your way for master" the man grunted irritatedly motioning the other followers to grab her and take her away.

"No don't touch me" she wiggled under their grip rushing towards douma blocking him from entering the room by grabbing his arm tightly "I am not going anywhere until I know where my mother is" she cried loudly making the demon flinch with surprise, how pitiful the creature looked in his polychromatic eyes. He have seen many humans crying before him for obvious reasons which honestly have become his monotonous routine but somehow this girl acted quite weird being her age, interesting him enough to investigate. As he was about to speak the man beside him pushed the girl hashly making her lose her balance and fall on the wooden floor.

"How dare you touch master with your filthy hands bitch" he lift his hand to slap her tight in the face but someone grabbed his wrist just in time to save the girl from further humiliation.

"Silence" all the questioning glances, judging looks and whispering stopped at once as douma spoke nonchalantly making the latter shiver in regret.

"I am sorry douma sama" the man uttered in pure horror having no intentions to displease his beloved lord. "I was-"

"I don't want to see that happen again, understood?" He replied coldly still maintaining his wide smile as the previous chaos shifted into complete hush. The man lowered his head down with shame nodding silently. Douma averted his attention and glanced at the figure underneath making the girl jolt a bit but his once frightening demeanor changed into a cheerful and optimistic one in matter of second upon seeing her.

"Please take her to my chamber and treat her wounds" the man clapped with a wide grin plastered on his face. A group of female servants came rushing to help picking her up. The girl being too bewildered did not protested and simply follow his tone as if she was hypnotized by his neatly decorated persona.

The girl was immediately taken away without delay and as per douma he needed to attend his cult duties. First of all she was washed and changed into a beautiful kimono as soon as she stepped inside, then she was escorted into a room filled with antiques and lavish items which she have never seen. Her face lit up with fascination as she began venturing those decorative pieces.

"Looks like you have ease down a bit, good good" A familiar tone struck in her ears startling her a bit only to turn back and view the handsome cult leader although it was a bit strange because she did not heard anyone approaching.

"Aww did I scared you?" He laughed covering his face with golden fans.

"No I was just- you came in without a warning, I was taken aback" she explained blushing trying her best not to act immature to which douma laughed uncontrollably as he found this human's expression adorable say entertaining in his words.

"D-dont laugh at me" she pouted crossing her arms in the attempt.

"I am sorry (y/n), you really amuse me" he replied still grinning. However there was a moment of awkward silence between them as he uttered her name abruptly.

"I didn't tell you my name.." after a long pause she replied to him with a confuse look in her face.

"I know everyone's name who are living under my supervision including yours besides what kind of cult leader I am if I don't have basic information about my fellow followers. Oh look I have been talking to you without giving the chance to let you talk my bad" he laughed again waving his fans creating another awkward situation. Causing you to sweatdrop on his remark.

"Say (y/n) how old are you?" to which she replied enthusiastically "I am 8 years old and will turn 9 soon"

"Ah you don't look like one" douma grinned closing his eyes in the process.

"Yeah I get that a lot" she remarked shyly.

"Your mother is one of my followers" he continued

"Really?" her eyes sparked with hope as she approached douma with anticipation grabbing his arms for the second time starling him, she really like holding hands eh? he have experiences like that but somehow this girl made him feel different so he allowed her but then she stopped halfway through her words "I really miss her it's been a week since she left me here" her voice dropped with sadness.

Douma felt no sympathy for humans or anything as such, he have learned to fake his emotions from a very tender age eversince he was born to the extent that even seeing his mother killing her husband mercilessly failed to evoke feelings within. He clearly did not understand what she was feeling he just stared at her with a blank expression only to replace it quickly with a grim look even faking few tears. "(Y/n) chan you know its okay you will still have me" he patted the girl in an attempt to comfort her.

"Friends?" (Y/n) replied between her tears.

"If that's how you want us to be" douma smiled at her gently shocking himself for a second because he didn't think of smiling?

Things escalated soon after that incident, (y/n) was a kind and compassionate person from inside and out and in not time the cult followers started loving her presence. As often douma would let her accompany him and most of the time she stayed by his side following him everywhere and he didn't mind that at all moreover he appreciated her company. (Y/n) was like a fresh bud to him who depicted innocence and purity he loved spoiling her with expensive gifts yet she never showed signs of greediness and genuinely appreciated his thoughtfulness slowly forgetting the past life she was in and cherishing her friendship with douma. At first she was reluctant and didn't like getting so much attention but in the course of time she bonded better with everyone and was quite content with the life she was leading. As for douma he began to depend on (y/n) to the point that not seeing her face for even one day would make him go insane and he didn't understand why not like he want to because all he cared about was how she made him feel so many varieties of pleasant emotions he wish he could feel. Eating her was out of context.

However all good things must come to an end for he is someone to not rest in peace after the sin he have committed for centuries. Seeing douma paying her more attention, spoiling her with a ravish lifestyle and even letting her stay by his side all the time made some of his cult members terribly envious they wanted to punish her for taking their chances of stealing the spotlight. There was this one room that he forbade his followers to enter for obvious reasons and specifically for (y/n) because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake. This was exactly what they wanted (y/n) to do break the rules and Douma's trust. Like that there would be no more favouritism on her with others.

"Ah (y/n), there you are" one of the female member approached her one fine morning.

"Yes how may I help you?" She asked cheerfully

"Lord douma have asked for your presence in the forbidden room tonight and he said its urgent"

"Aren't we all prohibited to go inside"

"Oh (y/n) it's true master have arrived today and he wants your presence"

Upon hearing that news her heart elated with happiness, it has been two weeks since he last saw douma around and she missed him but something felt off about the whole situation douma always sees (y/n) first before tending his followers then why did he not come meet her did he not miss her like she did?

She was lost in her thoughts until she found two hands waving and snapping infort of her face.

"Don't be late, okay?" With that said the female hurried back into other room leaving (y/n) behind even though the situation seem kinda odd maybe douma was busy afterall.

At night (y/n) went into the restricted area. She stood infront of the shoji door in absolute dilemma debating whether or not to enter the room or go back. There was her desire of meeting douma on one hand and not breaking his trust by entering the room on the other. In the end she decided not to but as she was turning back she heard someone grunting in pain behind the closed doors being a compassionate person, she decided to open the door and enter into the darkness adjusting her eyes in the process, a pungent smell hit her nostrils making her cover her mouth and to her absolute terror the scene infront of her made her puke in disgust.

A pile of Mutilated bodies, mostly women laid around lifelessly on the blood stained tatami mattress. Many having no limbs, some headless and organs missing from their body as if someone had ate all of that. The whole room was a mess full of unfortunate people. She felt sick and began crawling down her way back from the corpses. However she felt a tight grip on her left foot upon looking down she witness the sight of a woman her intestines oozing out of her stomach begging for help. (Y/n) stood there perplexed unable to say anything chocking through tears.

"I told you not to come here, why?" (Y/n) turned her head violently to see douma standing in a distance his countenance cold and sinister evident that he was highly displeased upon seeing his innocent flower disobeying his instructions.

"It's not... like... what you see" (y/n) cried fearfully but douma didn't seem to buy it well in a blink of an eye she found herself in Douma's arms as he aggressively dragged her out of the room.

"What's going on douma" no word came out from the usual lively douma.

"It's hurting me your grip" no reply again to which she forcefully tried to stand still with all her strength. This time douma stopped his features hidden under his bangs making her unable to figure the expression he was carrying.

"Is this why douma forbade us to enter the room" no reply

"Are you responsible for murdering those innocent people?" No reply

"DOUMA" she shouted

"Why you want to join them?" Douma finally looked at her his eyes glowing dangerously proving his existence to be something unnatural. (Y/n's) eyes widen at his remarks as tears rolled down her visage.

"I hate you.." she murmured

"What?" He tilted his head letting his guard down a bit at her hurtful comments.

"I HATE YOU" she pushed douma roughly and flew from the place running deep into the forest for she knew who he was and what he is capable of doing. Tearing down she constantly reminisce the moments she shared but she cannot allow herself to sympathize his heinous crimes. Why is it that the people I love are always taken away from me? She thought. Exhausted from running she halted in order to catch her breath while glancing back to see if he was following, there was no one indeed so a sudden feeling of relief gushed in her body. However turning her head back she saw him standing inches apart from her face which made her shiver and fall onto the knees.

"Why are you running away from me (y/n)" he said apatheticly his head lowered at her level. She did not reply and stayed quite.

"Is it true that you don't love me after all the things I did for you?" Covering his face with one hand his eyes glowing under the moonlight a look of dejection written on his face. There was complete silence in the forest except the sound of rustling trees.

"Answer me" holding her face now firmly he growled making her flinch under his breath. In one last desperate attempt (y/n) tried to stab douma with a tree branch she found laying on the ground but unfortunately douma was faster and easily dodged the attack and in a swift motion he hit her with immense strength causing her fragile little body to tremble in pain as she coughed mucus mixed with blood.

"How foolish of you" he crouched down her height staring intensely at the quivering figure of the miserable girl. As for (y/n) her body ached but more was the tightness in the chest that she was experiencing in the moment.

He pulled her by the hair roughly making her scream in pain although at this point all she could manage with her cracking voice were inaudible screams.

"Why did you disobey me? (Y/n)..." who knew beneath that friendly kind face was hiding a undeniably deadly and calculative demon and at this point it was clear for her that he was anything but human.

"Who are you?" these few words manage to escape from her shaky lips in between low grunts.

"I am the leader of the eternal paradise cult"

"Wrong" to which he tightened his grip making her shriek again.

"You humans are so dumb believing in the existence of primordial deities where in reality its just a myth, a fairytale, created for pleasuring the sufferings of mere human. Being superior than you mortals I wanted to make these pitiful existence happy and that's why I was born and what you saw there" his lips curved into a cheeky smile revealing his deadly fangs creeping the shit out of the already scared girl. "I eat them so that they can always be with me and attain salvation" a sinister laughter escape from his mouth as he covered it with his golden fans. (Y/n) unable to process the new sets of information knots formed in her stomach making her sick in the guts.

"I ate your mother too, oh she was ungrateful after all the things I did to her just like you" protruding her eyes with pure shock she felt her veins popping out and blood boiling in pure rage.

"You are a monster, you think your stupid morals would persuade people to think like you do, I despise you douma I thought we were friends and you took away the one I cherished the most?"

"You think your mother loved you?" Douma snapped. The duality of this was man was insane, all the things he does or says are plastic.

"She never cared for your life, you want to know why? I will tell you since you insist" douma dragged her out of forest holding a fistful of her hair tightly inflicting great discomfort to the girl while he continued with his harsh statements and deliberate insults.

"You were just a burden, behaving like a fucking child with the alluring body of yours"

"No my mother promised me..she would protect me.. you are lying"

"While you were crying everyday inside my shrine that lowly woman enjoyed her life indulging in adultery with various cult members leaving her sick husband and mentally retarded daughter in the dark" every word he uttered spread vemon into her ears.

"Still she wanted more and more and more, what a greedy whore" douma continued.

"Do you know how much difficult it was for me to control myself around you? While you sway your hips and act innocently making those hungry men lust over you, how much dumb can you be?"

"What do you mean I don't understand.. douma"

"I did everything I can for you yet you remain ungrateful, disrespectful? Well guess its runs in your blood and I thought you are innocent but it turns out that you are just like the rest of them, naive"

Her eyes widened with every hurtful remarks he made about her and she did not understand why she felt that way shouldn't she be resentful towards him for killing her beloved mother but here she is weeping constantly because douma was treating her like he never did before.

"But that's fine (y/n) I can not bring myself to hurt you I love you and we shall always be together whether you like it or not" nothing reached in her ears anymore as her body grew numb. Her eyes shut as she carried the unbearable pain in her heart slowly loosing consciousness and remaining sanity.

It would have been easier if she died but alas a mere human like her is doomed at his mercy.

[dumb-little-trans-writer]

Rust and Black Thorn Trees. Chapter 1.

TW: religious themes, religious abuse, reality alteration, dissociation triggers, abusive parents

Dasha. Her parents chose this name because it implied purity. A gift from God, or Mother Miranda. And they wanted their girl to be devoted only to Mother, as a pure virgin girl. Her days consisted of being a housekeeper, always making sure her family’s house was as clean as possible, for the blessing of Mother. She hated this life. But the one time she spoke up, she was forced to pray to Mother Miranda on hot coals. At eight years old. “Please, Mama it hurts-” she begged her mother, hiccuping as her Mother forced her down on the coal. She screamed, “You will make our situation worse if you keep doing this, Mother is an all-loving being, and you dare to speak ill of her likeness?” her mother cried, fingers in her daughters long, dark brown hair. The child’s hands shook as they were in a prayer position, she sobbed, unable to think straight. However, in this child’s mind, she deserves it. I dared to speak against my creator, i deserve it, she thought. When she was nine, she decided to make offerings herself of flower crowns and rose stems. When her parents came home to their daughter praying at the altar, and a house that was cleaner than when they left it, they gave her love. And validation. This repeated cycle from birth taught Dasha that her only source of affection was from being devoted to a false God. Until she got chosen to come with Mother Miranda, on her tenth birthday. She pointed at the girl, staring in awe at her presence. “I want her.” she said. The girl was nervous. But she felt a pull to get up, almost like she was hypnotized. She turned around, and caught a glimpse of her parents for the last time. They were crying. They were happy. That was the last she saw of them when the blindfold was gently placed on her, making her blind. She felt Miranda’s cold hand touch the middle of the girl’s back, through the white calf-length dress. She walked forward, and felt so cold. It pierced through the skin and confused the girl. She heard the maternal voice of Miranda, “Take the blindfold off, my child.” she gently ordered. “Yes, Mother.” she obediently replied, fumbling with the soft fabric. The girl noticed the sterile smell in the air as she took the blindfold off. She was in a doctor’s room. The lights were uninviting and made her uneasy. Miranda sat on a stool next to what looked like a dentist’s chair, but it had straps. “I have chosen you to bear a gift, but for me to give it to you,” she paused, gesturing at the chair now wearing doctor’s attire, “you need to sit in that chair for me, can you do that, love?” Miranda asked, lovingly. “Yes, Mother.” she said, sitting in the chair. Miranda started closing the straps. first around her legs, then her torso, and then her upper body. All the girl could think about was how excited she was, A gift? What did I do to deserve a gift from Miranda? She thought. Mother pulled in a tray, with a syringe and a small jar filled with a pitch black liquid. “Mother, I hate to ask this of you, as you know what you’re doing, but what is the gift?” The girl innocently asked. When she didn’t respond, and instead cut the girls dress, revealing her stomach, she thought she had done something wrong now. “Did-Did i do something wrong, Mother?” the girl asked, slightly frantic as Miranda used a cotton ball soaked in some kind of orange liquid, and dabbed it on a specific area. It was freezing, and she started to panic. Thoughts running wild as she filled the syringe with the viscous, black liquid. Miranda paused before injecting the liquid into her abdomen, and put a hand on the child’s cheek. Gently rubbing her cheek with a thumb. She moved a lock of hair out of the girl’s face, exactly like how Mama would do to calm you down. The girl immediately relaxed, her mind going blank, looking into Mother. A small pinch on the girl’s abdomen didn’t faze her. Then the feeling of dread started as Miranda coldly injected what she knew wasn’t a gift, else she was too delusional to realize how sick this was. She finished the injection, and took out a pen and clipboard.

What..?

The girl was confused. She had complied. Why did this hurt so much..? Why was she so weak..? She started hyperventilating. She couldn’t control her body as it started convulsing. The girl’s frail body and mind went unconscious as her eyes and nose started leaking the same viscous black liquid that was injected. Miranda was quickly confused and took a sample. She smiled, for this one had potential. Normally, they don’t go unconscious, and usually the limited mental capacity starts first, along with the slight greying of the skin. She would’ve started to look like a corpse, normally. But it seems the alterations to the Cadou worked. A sample of Miranda’s DNA mixed with the Cadou seemed to change the progression in only female individuals. Miranda wondered how this would affect cross-species organ implantation. She knew that at the least, this would make the passed out girl in front of her infertile. It could eat away at her organs too. She decided to use fresh organs from a female wolf, and implant them into the girl. She only used the reproductive organs and the entirety of the digestive system from the wolf. Everything else was...unethically harvested. It was long, but successful. Dasha woke, confused, and in pain. She was now in a hospital room. It was uninviting and made a poor attempt to look comforting. Miranda walked in, seemingly proud and with her chin high when she realized the child was awake. “Mother, what did you do to me..?” she groggily whined through the throbbing pain throughout her body. “I gave you a gift. The Cadou, mixed with a part of me,” she paused, stepping closer, “you are a part of me.” she said, delusion plaguing her mind. She seemed so excited. The girl was scared. Being scared of God was a horrifying thought for a child. After the child healed, Miranda let her stay in her house. Unsettling. After Dasha settled into her new home, she would be subjected to horrifying psychological torture. The first time Miranda got in Dasha’s head, she created small illusions. She would reach out to touch a vase and it would go through her hands. Small things, to make her rely on Mother for her sense of reality. Eventually it grew to Miranda making her see her parents. Then came the reason for these tests. Miranda was priming the child for this. The child thought she was with her parents again. In the forest, at the place she loved to let her imagination run. She heard multiple growls, they overlapped each other, and she looked around, attempting to find the source. They seemed to be coming from all directions. As she turned to face her parents again, she saw three lycans mauling them. Her Mama’s arm was being torn from it’s socket. The girl felt herself growing taller, hair sprouting rapidly everywhere, and her body changed from that of a human girl, to a tall, lycan-like monstrosity. She became mindless, tearing the flesh from the lycan’s fragile bones, tearing their heads from one of their bodies, the spine with it. She tried to scream, but the only thing that came out of her was a gutteral croaking sound. Once she had used all of her rage, she felt so tired. She felt herself floating, the tall, muscular form she once had dissipating into a black mist, absorbing back into her body. She fell, with no one to catch her. Once she had regained her balance and composure, Mother would come running. The girl leaked the same viscous black liquid from every facial orifice. She started puking this liquid, and these symptoms, along with intense abdominal pain, as well as emotional mood swings, was the cost of this transformation. This cycle persisted for seven years. Until her parents were taken by Lady Dimitrescu. Presumably for feeding, and maidwork. Miranda realized she would never be able to be useful. The conditions for the transformation to occur, as well as the recovery, were unable to be used properly. So, assuming she would be dead in the forest, she told her the truth about the illusions, as well as the truth about her parents being taken, and drained of blood like pigs. And she cast her out into the wilderness at seventeen. God had now abandoned her. At first, she had the drive to attempt to save her parents. But then she realized this was done to her by the same person her parents deified. Made her do all the chores, primed her for being a nun of Mother Miranda. The people who beat her for questioning Mother’s decisions.

The God who abandoned her.

She had suffered for nothing.

A/N: i changed a bit of the canon because i really wanted to stick with my idea, dont worry, there will be spice and karl heisenberg content

[jawritter]

The Fine Line Between Love And Hate

Summary: You love the man he was, not the man he is now, so why does he still affect you this way.

Rating: Explicit

Created For: @spndarkbingo

Square Field: Hatred

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Pairing: Michael!Dean Winchester x Reader

World Count: 1597

Warnings:  Hatred, obviously lol. Smut, unprotected sex, slight breading kink, some knife play, blood, spn level gore, bondage, blood, language, I think that’s it.

A/N: This is actually my first time writing Michael!Dean, lol. So go easy on me y’all. Please do not copy my work!! Feedback is golden!

**MASTERLIST**   ~  **BECOME A PATREON**

The first thing you are aware of is the throbbing headache that radiates through your skull, all the way down to the back of your neck. The more alert you become, the more you realize that there are thick, heavy chains holding your arms above your head The chains are  tied to a pole in the center of what looked to be an old, abandoned church. 

The only thing you could  think about  through the pain that seemed to be seeping  into your brain, and fogging your judgements, was to test the stability of your restraints. Pulling on the chains with all your might, you let out a huff of frustration when they didn’t give at all, staying secured tightly to the pole. 

From the corner of the room you couldn’t see, a deep chuckle resounded from the throat of the man you once loved. Micheal walked around to where you could see him, adorning your boyfriend's meat suit that he’d prettied up in a suit, and a butcher's apron. 

“Glad to see you decided to join us, Y/N. I was just beginning to worry I’d struck you too hard back there. Your kind is so fragile after all.” 

You swallowed down the bile that rose in your throat at the sounds of Dean’s  smooth, deep trimble, and glared at the face of the man that you loved so much. The man that was so familiar, yet so foreign  all at the same time. He may have looked like Dean, but everything about him screamed that he wasn’t Dean. From the tone of his voice, to his wide eyes, all the way down his well dressed body, to his tall and proud stance. 

“What’s wrong? You don’t like the look?” he chided in what was intended to be a playful manner, but it did nothing but make your blood boil. “I personally think Dean here cleans up pretty good for a human.”

You said nothing, just maintained eye contact with the pale green eyes that were staring into yours. You were trying to find any sign, any little thing that said Dean was still in there, still alive, but so far all you could see was a blank, empty canvas of what your boyfriend once was. That spark that only Dean carried had been snuffed out by the arch angel that was wearing his body, and it made you, if possible, even sicker to see it. 

“Not much of a talker are we? That’s funny, because you were always pretty boisterous in the bedroom with Dean here,” he said with a sneer that made you shiver against the cold draft drafting that flowed through the holes that littered the walls of the old church. 

“Fuck you, Micheal,”  you spat, venum thick in your voice, but the angel didn’t seem to notice or care. “You lied! You lied to Dean, and I’m going to figure out a way to get you out of him. He doesn’t belong to you!”

Micheal threw Dean’s head back in a humorless laugh, picking up a large knife off the table that stood in front of the altar, eyeing it curiously as he twisted the blade between two fingers, before cold dead eyes met your gaze again. 

“He’s still in here you know, screaming for me to let you go,” Micheal said, making lazy strides over to where you were chained, running the cold blade of the knife down your collar bone, leaving a thin red line in its wake that stung as blood started to trail down your bare body. “He’s normally pretty content on his little hamster wheel of a reality I’ve created for him, but as soon as he heard your voice back at that hotel he started clawing at the cage.”

Micheal’s gaze followed the red liquid as it made it’s decent over your breast, and down your stomach. The wound wasn’t deep enough to kill you, or cause you to bleed to death. It was only intended to scare you, but you were past fear. It  no longer existed in your way of thinking. The only thing you could feel as you stared at Micheal was pure, white hot hate.

“So let me go,” you tell him coldly. “Maybe then he will settle down for you again.”

If you could just get some backup, you’d try and take this mother fucker down, but you had to do it without hurting Dean, and that was the part that would be tricky.

“Oh no. You see, Dean in here, he misses you, craves you even. Even though he’s usually pretty happy, his body still longs for yours. Like you're connected on a level that was never established in my world. If I’m going to bring purity and order to this world, I need to understand this connection.”

Micheal stepped closer to you, running a finger through your clevage and the trail of blood there as he stopped. Your body shivered at the contact of Dean’s skin against your own. Even though your mind knew it was not your Dean, your body didn’t seem to care.It just craved the warmth of the man you’d been missing. 

“I’ve got to say, the control that sex can give you seems quite intising. Especially when it’s laced with so much loathing. I feel it coming off of you right now.” 

Pressing the sharp tip of the knife against your skin, he cut a small knick right above your pulsepoint, then licked the little beads of blood away with his warm tongue. 

You had to bite back the moan that almost slipped past your defenses as your thighs tightened on their own in search of friction against the frustration building in your core as his  teeth grazed your throat, leaving a smeared blood trail in his wake. 

You pulled against the restraints as your pulse quickened with each new little cut he made over the top of your breast, letting the blood trail down over your nipples, before his fingers twisted and twerked them, getting them to stand at  full attention.Your cunt throbbed with each twerk of Dean’s fingers against your sensitive  flesh, and slick gathered uncomfortably at your thighs under his administration. Your body was calling out to the man you loved, but you hated the one controlling him more than anything you had ever killed as a hunter. 

When he was fully satisfied with his work, he sat the knife down beside him, and started to strip away the crisp suit he was adorning on Dean’s solid body, each layer falling to the floor, as his eyes raked over bare skin that was blood stained, sweat glistening lightly  in the dim light from the candles he had lit around the old decrepit  sanctuary. You hated the way your body seemed to be screaming for him, begging for him to touch you like he used to, stretch you out in a way only Dean could. 

“Dean’s enjoying this you know.You should just sit back and do the same,” Micheal said, stroking Dean’s length as he stepped up to where you were standing, kicking your legs apart with his feet as he slipped the tip of Dean’s leaking tip through your dripping folds. 

“I hate you,” you spat at him, but Micheal seemed unfazed, filling you up in one harsh thrust to the brim and making you both groan at the feeling of Dean’s body filling your own, your walls already fluttering around his greedily. 

“Oh Y/N,” Micheal said. Dean’s voice strained the way he used to when you were together this way, as he held himself still for a moment. “There’s such a fine line between love and hate. Your lips say you hate this, but that greedy little pussy of yours,” pulling out almost all the way, he slammed back in, “begs to differ.” 

He was right, and he knew it.There was nothing you could say to disagree with him when he was buried so deep inside of your body, pounding into you at a relentless pace, sweat mixing with blood and your back scraping against the pole you were tied to. Dean’s length hit all the right places, like he’d  done so many times before. 

Every cell in your body seemed to be vibrating with each pass of his manhood through your heat, and when your orgasm washed over the both of you, all hate was forgotten for a moment.All that remained, was the bliss that washed over you in waves as Micheal spilled his seed deep inside of your womb. Dean’s lips smirked as you fell apart around his length. 

Micheal’s mind taunted the man trapped in his head.  Dean screamed over and over again. He was thinking of what the  two of you had just created that would help him take over the world. You may never love Micheal, and he knew that, but you loved Dean and he’d use that until your job was done. Then he’d kill you, just like he was going to kill everyone his father ever created with his own son at his side. He’d then be God.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @bi-danvers0​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​ @teresa-67​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @hearteyes-j2​ @miss-nerd95​

[frogtanii]

Wind anon has a test tomorrow so she is gonna be studying for a bit—but it should be okay! (Actually, seeing and reading not only the PF updates but also all the comments from fans give me energy and motivation. It’s really good at cheering me up, so I greatly appreciate how I was able to stumble upon such a community.) Anyway, might as well get to the reaction!

First, starting off with Iwaizumi... every time I see an Iwaizumi start I get a bit anxious like “oh no, it’s him again” type of feeling. Makes me all twisty. But I was like “hm? Why’s he asking where they all are? He drove them to the venue?” So I was like “aaaaa” but softly

And YN with Suga and Akaashi! Soft boys. Very very nice. Suga mentioned reading books as a suggestion to Bokuto before didn’t he? Book crew~ also, I like that there’s a bench by the restrooms of the place. Very conveniently placed, isn’t it? Though the mention that it’s secluded is very fitting with YN needing to recharge the social battery. Some days I need to recharge my battery myself, and I just completely lose the desire to talk once it’s low. I hope YN gets lots and lots of self care days where she doesn’t have to do anything but love being herself. She deserves it.

Kuroo being with Bokuto :D! I like how he’s still sticking by even when he has no clue what they are talking about. It’s wonderful.

And Kenma :0. Same restroom as the one where YN, Akaashi, and Suga are? Because then they all went together. Cute cute cute. A group of introverts.

Sakusa and Atsumu by the snack table. That’s good, that’s good, hope that they had some good food.

Osamu talking to a kid about how he cooks his ramen! Very nice very nice, I feel like there hasn’t been enough chances to show Osamu’s desire and love for food. I mean, there was that one time Meiko got him to cook food for her even when he was tired and I’m still a bit grumpy about that, but it’s nice that he’s getting a chance to socialize to people like this.

Daichi, starting off with saying he was indisposed—my immediate reaction was to zone in and be like “Meiko” but no. It wasn’t her this time. By this point I was like “but...where is she...?” But also, Daichi is being real polite with the way he’s talking. Curious, but not bad. Just interesting to me.

And here we see Iwaizumi doing the classic “I hold the power. I demand answers” I know that he’ll have his redemption arc but I am just very...at odds with him right now and wind anon disapproves. It’s upsetting to see him actually. I can only imagine how YN feels... (oh, I’ve been thinking of what’d it be like to take the place of Meiko. Not right now because that’s asking for wind anon to wake up to animosity and chaos—scary. But like, if wind anon was from the start... platonic cuddling with YN and no drama...)

But Daichi taking care of the wardrobe malfunction. That’s a cool choice. Though I suppose it makes sense. He’s the steady type. Less impulsive and emotion driven compared to Iwaizumi, but still able to get there. Though, considering the amount of stress Iwaizumi has been under, was it really not a thing to ask for help from one of the members, or to request another person from management? There’s...13 members altogether, so 12 people he’s trying to manage right now. I don’t think there would be much loss having 2 managers to care for 6 main members at a time. Might be more efficient, and they could always try a rotational schedule and collaborate if they want more full house content.

I like how Iwaizumi asked “who and where” and when Daichi replied with only The Who, everyone still moved on. Just shows how frazzled and frantic Iwaizumi is under that calm facade.

Iwaizumi commanding them to leave :0! I was really puzzled at this point. Like the rest of the members, I didn’t understand why he was so adamant considering he had made them go to the event to network. And him forgetting Oikawa...

But moving down to the part where Iwaizumi blows up and tells them to get in the limo (because wind anon doesn’t want her reaction to drag too long), it’s very much like Iwaizumi. First there is the message about “there will be another event where you get to pretend you’re relevant for a couple of hours” oh, wind anon is focusing on that line. Obviously, the fact that they are all preoccupied right now is not a concern to him—but this was very emotionally charged and blunt—he didn’t have the patience to frame his thoughts to something prettier and more logical—this is truly what he thinks. “There will be another event” shows that he believes that there definitely will be one—he’s not trying to cover his words so the fact he mentioned there’s another event means it’s not trying to placate them in a sense. I mean, if he’s trying to placate them, rage is not the way to go about it anyway so it would have been a fail even without this, but he specified the event when he could’ve not said a thing about a future event so, yeah. “Where you get to pretend to be relevant for a few hours” oh my gosh. How to go about analyzing this portion? The content, the emotion, the execution, it’s all so...vivid. (10/10 job as always fr0ggy) the fact that he says pretend to be relevant shows how he views the house. Obviously they like the content they create. They care about the content they create. And sure they may not all be big, but relevant? They’re definitely relevant in your career choice Iwaizumi. They got nominated for an award and it’s not as if they were around for a super long time. It’s impressive. You’ll get attention and more of a fan base. Their relevance will definitely grow. The words by themselves are an attack of sorts to the members, showing his belief that they are shallow and fake and trying to get famous and seem big. Makes him seem like he has an inferiority complex of sorts, the way he’s acting. Take everything I say with a grain of salt though. I’m not a doctor.

Okay, next. We have Daichi, who is more reliable and asks for logic! Thank the lords of the PF universe, I literally wouldn’t be able to take too much emotional charge. And then Meiko’s name pops up. The last time I was writing an ask, I was redesigning Meiko’s entire look, and purely the look. I wasn’t doing a character analysis and I didn’t put anything besides my opinions on a better dress but I saw this and the complete blankness my mind went was astonishing.

“She’s a grown woman Tsumu. I left her alone for a few hours, she can handle that.” Y’know, for a cook, he really didn’t realize that was a recipe for disaster. (B-dum tsss. I do like puns) but she’s been shown to not be able to take care of herself and also have a bad personality on top of that so it really was an explosion in the making. I’m the spectrum of not taking care of myself (skipping meals to do schoolwork...skipping meals to sleep...yeah, no) but I think my personality is decent. But Meiko? I actually thought she might be decent with networking. I mean, she picks up guys quite easily doesn’t she? So I was fascinated with what she could’ve possibly done.

Liquor :0 !! I was never interested in drinking liquor that much (though they are pretty a lot of the times...the colors and bottles and glasses are really nice art subjects). Seeing Meiko makes me want to avoid alcohol even more. She started drinking...gosh, she is...a hot mess. Not even kids would be as bad...

Her being “plastered”? Considering that one time where she started drinking a ton before going to a club and...forcing herself on Suga, and how she managed to leave the bathroom completely composed and such, I was mesmerized at the fact she actually managed to drink enough to get completely wasted. And champagne? She must’ve just stuck around and made a whole group of glasses where she was. Also, she didn’t try to get any guys? Wow. Wind anon is staring at her like she’s a particularly weird specimen. She is so...baffling. Confusing.

She insulted and slapped someone :0!!!!!! The amount of exclamation marks show how intense my reaction is. Violent, violent, and such an idiot Meiko is. I hope management steps in. I can’t stand looking at her. But I mean...once she wakes up, like the morning after, would anyone be willing to look and care for her? Such a mess...

I pity the people in management who would have to smooth this over. Gosh, they need a raise and a fruit basket. Like those fancy ones with the fruit cut into shapes on skewers and such. As well as a box of chocolates.

But yeah, I’ll end it here. Been a while since I have a long reaction. I’m pretty sure I got a bit of the analysis wrong and also rambled a bit too much at times, hmmm.

Okay, headcanon time... imagine YN making make up by breaking all of Meiko’s and she just names the mix “Meiko” because it’s a streaky mess. She packages it and gives it to fans for free. It would be fun :D. Only the eyeshadows and stuff though. I do not trust any thing that would directly touch Meiko...like her lipsticks. Bleh.

Sakusa, Akaashi, Suga, Tooru, and YN being eyeliner group. Just imagine Akaashi tilting your head up with the lightest fingers under your chin, while Sakusa braids your hair and folds in some dark silk flowers with pearl centers into it. YN smiling at them after she comes out, with pomegranate lip tint and a leather jacket. Be dangerous YN. Kill us all. YN supremacy <3.

YN and Atsumu would be the two to have the popsicles that you break apart.

Kenma wears red eyeliner once for a dare or a gift to fans or something and all of his fans decide to pass out.

Osamu and Bokuto doing stuff together to promote healthy living.

Okay, gonna end here. I very much appreciate all the support here. Much love towards those who favorite my asks and such too. I’m super glad you all like hearing from me. I mean, we’re all fans of PF and fr0ggy so I hope that everyone is enjoying all of this as much as I am. You all make me very very happy. Much appreciation to all the anons and ask senders and submissions because everyone is super cool.

Take care fr0ggy! Much hearts to you!

oh geez i hope ur test goes well!!!!!!! i don’t have much to say cs ur incredibly eloquent (as usual) but i rlly like the idea of bokuto n osamu promoting healthy living!!!! that rlly hits cs my family is VERY much into healthy living so that just made me happy hehe ILY I HOPE U HAVE A LOVELY DAY KITH KITH <3333

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

Yeash! Another react blog! Your first was super cute!!💕 I thought this idea was pretty cute too. How'd the guys react to a usually expressionless and stoic survivor who always has a blank expression one day burst into heartfelt, gut clutching, knee slapping laughter till the point they're adorably flustered, gasping, and in tears at some random off handed comment the guys' made(they have surprising hilarious random dialogue in game), and still girlishly giggle to themselves long afterwards?

what a cute request! i love it!

thank you for requesting & i hope you enjoy this one. i couldn’t find all of their dialogue from the game so i kept it very general and left it up to your imagination. <3

these are preromanced partners and i’m going to assume that they’re strictly just professional. no romance or crush.

-

he didn’t know whether to find it uncomfortable or relieving that their partner was expressionless and strangely stoic since the day they first introduced themselves to him. on one hand, he found a tad bit helpful when he wanted nothing more but to kick back and relax while on the other, he wanted more than just a one sided conversation and silence. he shrugged it off eventually, coming to acceptance that regardless of what the wanted, that was just who they were in the end. it wasn’t until one day where he muttered an off handed comment while exploring the cabin that he got his first ever reaction from his partner. at first it was quiet as per usual but the silence was soon replaced by a snort that soon turned into loud laughter that resonated within the empty room. his eyes widened, looking over his shoulder to find them clutching their stomach with one arm while the other held the wall for support as they broke out in a fit of chortling. their face was flushed and tears peeked out of the corner of their eyes as they attempted to catch their breath. well this was new.

Danse:

he was absolutely dumbfounded at the sudden reaction his partner had exhibited right in front of his very eyes. he’d be unsure of why the hell sole was laughing and would raise a brow at their peculiar behavior, trying to ignore the blush creeping on his cheeks. even if he tried to act serious, he knew that their laugh was utterly adorable and he unbeknownstly let the sounds that escape their lips etch into his mind. danse turned around slowly to face them and waited for them to cool down, trying to maintain his professional attitude to avoid the risk of saying something he’d probably regret. he would be unsure of what to do, clearly distracted by their change of character and would instead stare at them intensely as if he lost all sense of ability. sole would wipe the tear off their eye, looking up at danse before straightening themselves out, “sorry paladin, i couldn’t help but laugh at what you just said.” what he just said? he didn’t mean for it to be a joke but fuck, he wasn’t complaining. this was probably gonna be the first and only time they break out of their character and he secretly wanted nothing more but to indulge in the moment. with flushed cheeks, he’d respond firmly, attempting to shake off the events from earlier, “it’s fine. should we continue our mission?” they’d nod, continuing to giggle under their breath from time to time as they rummaged the room together. danse would be completely out of focus for the rest of the day, unable to keep his guard up as their laughter replayed in his mind for hours on end.

Deacon:

his confusion would turn into shock which immediately turned into a sense of satisfaction that was clearly written all over his face. with a cocky grin, he strided over to them, patting their shoulder as they continued to laugh loudly. “guess the good ol’ deacon charm finally hit ya.” as he observed sole, he’d feel a sense of pride and joy build up within him with every second that passed. they’d catch their breath after a minute or so, staring up at deacon with tears eyes and a goofy smile. “don’t get ahead of yourself. it was only one time.” his grin grew much wider. oh, he loved those words coming out of their mouth. even if it wasn’t directly given, he knew damn well that it was a challenge waiting to be conquered and who was he to turn down such a task? deacon crossed his arms as sole raised a brow with a curious expression. “that look on your face reads bad intentions.” he chuckled at their comment, readjusting his sunglasses. “me? bad intentions? why i would never do such a thing! besides, we both know that this won’t be the only time i’ll make you laugh.” sole would roll their eyes and shove him playfully to the side so they could walk past him. “we’ll see about that.” he’d hear the small giggles that left their lips as they continued on with their mission. “doesn’t seem like you’ll last long with all that giggling, charmer.” they’d throw a pencil at him in response to which he dodged without breaking a sweat. “shut up deacon.” silently, he built up all the one liners and jokes he was mentally capable of creating and knew that sole was in for one hell of a fucking ride. this was his biggest challenge yet and he was determined to make sole laugh again, one way or the other.

Hancock:

he’s very good at hiding his astonishment and would instead wrap an around around soles shoulders, happily smiling at their newfound personality he never knew they had. he loved the way their lips curled upwards and how the blush on their cheeks looked as it grew more evident. the way their laugh echoed was music to his ears and he instantly knew that he preferred this side of his partner rather than the other. now that he’s seen it, he didn’t wanna live with the idea of never experiencing it again. “if i knew there was a funny bone in ya, i would’ve made you smile a long time ago, sister/brother.” he jested, his eyes unable to leave their face that he secretly admired up close. they’d turn their head to stare at him, their blush only firing up more at their closeness. he’d flash a friendly grin at them, signaling that he meant no harm whatsoever despite the sudden contact. from the looks of it, it seemed to ease sole as they released the tension from their shoulders. “shit, i didn’t mean to laugh. sorry.” with a shake of his head, he’d immediately shush them, “an apology isn’t needed. if anything, i find this side of you charming as hell and i definitely would want to see this side of you again.” they’d become embarassed, trying to fight the blush that painted their cheeks. “thanks, hancock.” he would pull his arm back from their shoulders and nod in response as they both continued to venture the house further. he’d hear the small giggles that left their mouth every here and there and he’d tease them without hesitation. “glad to know you’re taking up my offer, sister/brother. would be shame if i never got to hear that sweet laughter of yours. it’s music to my ears.” it would only make them giggle more and hancock would chuckle back, feeling a sense of contentment linger in his chest.

Maccready:

he was having a bad day and let out a comment to express his annoyance. he only expected it to get worse as sole laughed carelessly at it, disregarding the irritation in his voice that was clearly obvious. instead, he felt all the weight on his back lighten as he gazed dumbly at sole who didn’t even bother to hide the expression on their face. maccready bit back a smile of his own, feeling his day grow a little less shittier the more their laugh rung in his ears. guess happiness was contagious after all. he’d approach sole with a softer expression, his fingers fiddling nervously with the gun that relaxed on his hands. “here i was thinking if i was running with an emotionless and crazy psychopath,” sole would slow down on their laughter and notice the small smile forming on his face despite his attempts on concealing it, “glad i was wrong.” even if it came out as a joke, he knew damn well that he did secretly feel that way but always brushed it off in the end. it was a damn relief his assumptions were proven false. sole smirked at him, “if i was a psychopath, you would’ve had a bullet between your eyes with all that complaining you do.” usually a comment like that would annoy the shit out of him, especially on a day like this, but he took it lightly, a snicker leaving his mouth. “can’t say you’re wrong there, boss.” as they carried on with their duties, he found himself smiling everytime sole let out a soft giggle under their breath. that’s one way to brighten up his mood.

Nick Valentine:

“well isn’t that wonderful.” nick grinned at them and stretched out a hand to assist them on their feet. they accepted his offer and dusted off their clothes with a huge smile on their face. “nice to know an old geezer like me can make you smile.” it would take them a moment to collect themselves before responding, “you always make me smile, nick.” his eyes would widen in surprise at their confession and tried to remember a time he’s caught them smiling at anything he’s said and done. no matter how deep he dug through his memories, nothing would surface. man, old age was really starting to hit him. “guess i haven’t been paying enough attention to notice that. i thought you were ready to drop me with how bored you look.” sole would deny that accusation immediately, waving it off as they continued to stray away from their usual character. “not at all. everything you say entertains me. whatever you just said now really got to me.” nick would tip his hat, “glad to be of service then. i’m pretty sure i got more of those in mind if you’re willing to lend an ear every once in a while.” sole would bring a fist to their mouth, chuckling to themselves, “of course.” he’d definitely be sure to bring up any comments similar to that fashion in hopes to brighten up soles day, even just a little.

Gage:

he was grateful sole was distracted enough to miss the pure shock plastered on his face as he watched them over his shoulder. he’d immediately shake it off to avoid getting caught with such an expression and to save him from the embarrassment if sole were to taunt him. gage would attempt to act normal as if their reaction hadn’t fazed him, but if sole were to squint hard enough, they’d notice the soft crimson dusting his cheeks. thankfully, they had absolutely no intentions with doing so and continued to laugh loudly at some random shit gage had sputtered out to himself. “if you laugh any louder boss, someone’s bound to hunt us down.” sole would stifle their laugh, slapping a hand against their mouth in attempts to quiet themselves down. gage would snicker at them; he didn’t actually think they would take his words to heart but here they were, choking back a laugh that was bound to release sooner or later. he let out a chuckle, “i’m just jokin’, boss. laugh all ya want, just make sure we got the job done. alive preferably.” sole tittered as they nodded, the blush still bright as day on their cheeks. he turned his back on them, a half smile forming on his face. seeing the overboss all tough and shit made him feel at ease, but this side of them wasn’t too bad either. he wouldn’t bring it up after that, but would secretly be waiting patiently for the next time his partner were to have a similar reaction.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH128

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 128: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XVIII)

{cw: helminthophobia}

The atmosphere was stagnant in the dark, and the night watchman’s exhaustion and confusion was truly written all over him. His deformed body was bent, seeming as though it was about to be destroyed by the weight of his soul.

The truth of the disaster of the new moon was so heavy that this Holy City, once known as the "hometown of God's brethren", had fallen into sin. No soul was left pure white or innocent.

The night watchmen were still struggling in vain for the ignorant residents - they couldn't tell the truth, which would destroy the Holy City’s last remaining peace and plunge the city into despair and sin, but if they didn't tell the truth, they couldn't persuade everyone to stay awake on the night of the new moon, and as long as one person fell asleep... the consequences would be like a hungry wolf getting into the sheepfold, and after dawn, the whole city would be a hell on earth.

Therefore, they could only choose to guard silently, make humble efforts, persist desperately, and try their best to make everyone who woke up forget this nightmare.

Qi Leren took a deep breath and the cold air entered his lungs, suppressing the discomfort in his stomach. A gloomy cold spread from his lungs throughout his whole body, making him feel like he was in a refrigerator.

Su He's cold and gentle voice sounded: "The disaster of the new moon couldn't have started suddenly without warning. Please recall, did anything special happen eight years ago?"

The night watchmen shook their heads.

"We’re also exploring the cause of the disaster in the new moon, but there’s been no evidence so far... There is only a suspicious rumor that eight years ago, the Lord's wife gave birth to a baby girl."

Qi Leren instantly got an inkling. Eight years ago, a baby girl? The blonde girl who tried to trick the memento brooch out of his hand happened to be seven or eight years old, so…

"About the baby girl, tell us about her," Ning Zhou suddenly said.

Qi Leren looked at him with puzzlement. Although the night was too deep for him to be able to see Ning Zhou's expression clearly, there seemed to be a vibrato in his usual cold tone just now. What was he worried about?

The night watchmen looked at each other. Finally, the leading night watchman said, "We’ve never seen the baby girl. This rumor came from the Lord's castle. It’s said that the Lord's wife was pregnant eight years ago. At that time, no newborn had been born for 13 years. It was even rumored here that there would be no more human beings born. If one was born, they must be a demon. Therefore, the Lord and his wife concealed this matter and only the closest servants knew of it. The maid who was ordered to take care of the child revealed it to her relatives because she was afraid. Later, the child was born on the new moon. From that day on, the whole city fell into a nightmare, and the maid disappeared with the new moon..."

"Has anyone seen this little girl in these eight years?" Qi Leren asked.

"Occasionally, some people say that they’ve dreamed of a little girl with blue eyes, long golden curly hair tied into two braids, and white roses in her hair. She looks dignified and holy, just like the portrait of the Virgin in the Vatican," said the night watchman.

Blonde hair and blue eyes, a portrait of the Virgin Mary... Qi Leren’s mind flashed to the figure of Maria in Ning Zhou’s half-field…

Ning Zhou went to the Vatican at the age of thirteen because Maria had died that year, just eight years ago.

Was this really a coincidence?

Qi Leren once again looked at Ning Zhou in the dark. Perhaps at this moment, only he understood his inner worries and fears. This field originally created by Maria to protect the Holy City had now become a hunting ground for demons, and the most terrible thing was... They couldn't be sure if Maria's dead soul had returned here, but had been polluted by demons’ energy and become evil.

If it had, it was the most ruthless mockery of fate for a pious holy nun.

"Dream..." Su He muttered to himself.

Dream? Come to think of it, everything that was happening here was related to dreams. Even the little girl would peek into his memory from dreams…

"The Witch of Nightmares? My friend and I have studied the data of the human world’s first demon invasion. At that time, the old Devil King’s most trusted witch was called the Witch of Nightmares, as she was good at manipulating dreams. If she didn’t die in the disaster 22 years ago, she must have fallen asleep then awakened eight years ago. It makes sense," Su He said slowly. "I'm afraid the cause of the disaster on the new moon is that she’s polluted this dead area created by the Holy Nun and is slowly recovering her strength until she can escape from here, or..."

Su He looked in the direction of the church grounds, eyebrows furrowed.

Dr. Lu suddenly covered his lower abdomen and said with a pale face: "My stomach hurts..."

Qi Leren, whose stomach had also been feeling uncomfortable, was also suffering from stomach pain. Cold sweat dripped down from behind and instantly soaked the clothes on his back. There was something there, as if something was rolling in his stomach!

Dr. Lu spat out a mouthful of blood. In the blood, a blue-black butterfly that had grown from a pupa was hatching from a chrysalis. The soft butterfly wings stained with blood quickly became dry in the wind, and it fluttered its wings and flew.

The Witch of Nightmares? Thinking about it, when she pretended to be Su He in the library, she had poured tea for him and Dr. Lu. At that time, they drank it without worry and the Rain-Day Clothing skill hadn’t been triggered.

Qi Leren, who had no time to dwell on it, took out the holy water Ning Zhou had given him a long time ago and drank it down. The stomach acid and blood fumes in his stomach settled slightly, but it still had him in a cold sweat. He didn’t know when Ning Zhou had rushed to him from the roof and held his shoulder to check the situation. Qi Leren handed him one third of the remaining holy water: "To Dr. Lu."

The butterfly hatched from Dr. Lu's stomach flapped its wings in the night. A childish laughter came from the butterfly and said in a sweet voice: "It's useless, even if the holy water can temporarily suppress it, you two will die in an hour because of the toxins."

Dr. Lu was in enough pain that he nearly lost consciousness. He used "Doctor’s Orders" once on himself, but his skills had no effect on this strange witch poison-medicine. Qi Leren's condition was a little better, but he was also shaking and unable to stand. If Ning Zhou hadn't been holding him, he would have already fallen down.

"Isn’t it painful? This kind of pain will get worse and worse as time goes by, until you can't even breathe. It's really pitiful. This feeling of slowly dying may be more painful than being eaten alive." The Witch of Nightmare's voice was still innocent and sweet, but her tone was full of grim malice.

The night watchman roared, "Is that you?! The one who made all this!"

The butterfly gradually changed into the outline of a little girl, and she giggled and said, "Oh, I remember you, you really are a poor worm. Whenever I see you trying your best to maintain this false peace, I can't help but want to laugh. Thanks to you, those ignorant fools have continuously sent me the power of dreams for the past eight years."

The Witch of Nightmares clapped her hands and praised the night watchman. The crisp applause made the night watchman roar and he went forward to fight with the phantom without thinking, but the witch's butterfly spread its wings and flew high above the air: "I hate places with lots of people. It seems you can endure for a while. I’ll give you the antidote in exchange for you bringing the field memento you hold to the old site of the Vatican."

"Sorry, madam, we don't believe a demon’s promises," Su He said lightly.

"I have no interest in your lives, but if you need a promise, well, I'll give you a devil's contract." The witch's butterfly flapped its wings, and the blue spots scattered from its wings and changed into a blank sheet of paper with a contract written on it.

Ning Zhou glanced at it. The contract required that the Holy Nun's field memento be exchanged for two antidotes, and the witch promised not to harm the contractor on the way to and from.

Su He turned his back to the witch and mouthed: Promise her.

"I’ll bring the memento," Ning Zhou said coldly.

"I can't agree to that. I don't want to be given something by the Holy See," the witch's voice became cold and disgusted.

"Then let me bring him," Ning Zhou said to the witch.

The witch's butterfly paused for a moment, then slowly flew to Ning Zhou and circled around him: "You remind me of someone... Okay, but this gentleman who controls the field must stay here and must not leave here until the contract is fulfilled."

"Fine," Su He said lightly.

After adding the contract amendment, the transaction was established.

Although Qi Leren's pain was so great that he’d lost the strength to speak, his brain was still awake. Everything was going according to their plan. Although the poisoning exceeded their expectations, they had planned to let the witch take one person away and then wait for her to offer to exchange hostages with the field memento. The poisoning was painful, but taking risks would make the witch let down her guard.

"Come on, follow me." The witch's butterfly flapped its wings in the night and the blue butterfly scales gave off faint fluorescence, floating like powder in the night.

Ning Zhou put Qi Leren's arm around his shoulder and led him forward.

In the heavy night, the pain beat on the body wave by wave, suffocating him from pores to bone marrow. He tried hard to stride forward, but his strength was gradually lost from the pain. He almost fell down from his legs giving out several times as Ning Zhou pulled him along.

"I can carry you," Ning Zhou's voice sounded in the dark.

Qi Leren shook his head. At this time, when he didn't even have the strength to embrace Ning Zhou's neck, he still wanted to say that he was walking. In fact, it was simply Ningzhou carrying him forward.

As he was holding him Ning Zhou paused, and the pain made this short moment become infinitely long... He hugged him against himself and strode forward.

The world was quiet with only one person's footsteps. Qi Leren trembled in the severe pain, struggling to keep breathing, and his will became fragile because of pain. Finally, he abandoned rationality and logic, leaving only pure instinct.

In the dark, memories rolled in pain, and Qi Leren remembered the cold and damp hole in the Witchcraft Sacrifice. At that time, he had just been rescued from the lake, so he was cold and in pain as he was held by Ning Zhou and carried forward step by step.

That dark road was full of his innocent sweetness and shy snickering, so warm, so gentle, and so joyful.

When the past and the present overlapped, he suddenly discovered that the mood at that time was no different from that of today.

Pain blurred his line of sight and his thinking was replaced by absurd imagination. He looked intently at the starry sea above his head, the eternal wilderness and the vast expanse. They seemed to be in a long river of time, and there was no future without the past. In only this short island of time, they were pulled by the net woven by the goddess of destiny. The two from different worlds met at that moment, were soaked by joys and sorrows, and sprouted feelings that they dared not admit.

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[austarus]

Harrison Wells (Eobard Thawne) x Reader - Integrated Revelations (2/3)

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me.

*Tbh, I was attempting something and I don’t I feel like I’m getting really bad at writing Eobard.. I’m trying ;-; bear with me things will deviate from the plot. Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

Part 1  Part 3

Word Count: 4687

You shut your eyes, upon reopening them you soundlessly shifted over to your boyfriends’ side as he spoke with a raspy, chilling voice. Like a Queen should to a King. “I mean, who are you really?” Eobard questioned skillfully; one leg crossed over the other. You glanced between both men before your blank gaze settled upon Barry.

“Dr. Wells, what are you doing?”

Eobard’s demeanor did not falter at Barry’s question. The villainous speedster dropped his leg from where it was and sat forward. He hunched himself, elbows pressed onto the edges of the armrests. “None of it adds up. The interference with the comms, the speed equation, the Time Wraith.” You pressed your lips into a thin line as Eobard shook his head while continuing. Barry eyed the dark-haired scientist closely. “That's what we call them. Time Wraiths. Scary, aren't they?” Eobard chuckled darkly to himself. “I thought, ‘Oh, no, a Time Wraith has found me.’ But then I thought, ‘No, no, no.’ You know what you're doing.” He snapped for emphasis. You dropped your gaze, running your fingers over the back of his chair before deciding to take a step back and lean against the pebbled wall. No matter how many times you were in the Time Vault, it always unsettled you the amount of power and knowledge and secrets Eobard can keep within it “Now, the Time Wraith is after someone who's travelled through time...” Eobard tilted his head at Barry, “and doesn't know what they're doing.” A smirk remained plastered on the Wells imposter while Barry’s eyes flickered up at you momentarily. His apprehensive green hues met Eobard’s icy gaze.

Your speedster boyfriend’s words clicked. This version of Barry doesn’t have the faintest idea of how to manipulate time travel like Eobard. He can easily get caught by those monsters. You crossed your arms as you observed the two speedsters. One in control- potent, as always, and the other rendered helpless in those meta-dampening cuffs. Unlike the other version we met. The one who knows about my powers, who denied me an answer.

Barry looked incredulously at Eobard. Choking out a nonchalant laugh, Barry glanced away while feigning his innocence, but the two of you knew this was not your Barry Allen. “Dr. Wells come on. It's me. It's... it's Barry. I don't...” Barry reached out to touch the cool metal of the cuffs. You wanted to step forward to help him out, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to trust this version of Barry either. At least this one’s not giving me headaches.

“Really? You are good.” Eobard puffs out a curt laugh, shaking his head one more and clapping mockingly. “You are good, and I would believe you, except that…” The scientist sped off from his chair, icy blue eyes with a piercing gaze as he towered over Barry. You took a step forward at Eobard’s sudden display with a frown grazing your features and eyes widening a fraction. Intimidation exuded from the older speedster. But your eyes quickly flickered to see Barry’s response. Nothing. “Nothing? I move like this, you barely flinch.” Barry glared up at Eobard with such abhorring emotions in his eyes. “You know who I am. Don't you?” You watched Eobard taunt Barry as he stepped back beside you, leaning back as well. Tension hung thickly in the air. Barry crinkled his nose at you and Eobard then attempted to phase his hand out of the cuffs but to no avail. He should have known better than to try that with those cuffs on. You cleared your throat as Eobard snickered at the younger speedster. “Oh! And you're from the future. Do you know how I know that? Because I haven't taught my Barry Allen how to phase through objects... yet.”

Barry laughed mirthlessly dismissing your existence, but the speedster knew he was defeated. He wasn’t as skilled in the art of deception as you and Eobard were. “Let me out of here, Thawne.”

You heard Eobard sigh at the utterance of his name. Rolling your eyes at his dramatics, you eyed the speedster while he pushed off the wall. “I know. You're upset.” Eobard dragged his white chair to take a seat once more. The genius deceiver coyly grinned at the scarlet speedster, bound to the wheelchair. “But it does me good to hear that name again. Now, onto the bigger question.” He fumbled with his fingers, anticipation- ideas- possible reasons on exactly why The Flash had decided to take another detour to the past whirled inside his mind.

“Why are you here?” You piped up unfurling your arms, instead tucking your hands into the back of your pants pockets. “You’re from a different time obviously, couldn’t you figure out your own problems from there? Why bother looking for solutions in a past you clearly despise?” Barry refused to answer you. “Or do you always need to run to Dr. Wells whenever little Barry Allen gets stuck?” Eobard glanced back at the venom dripping from your words. The hard look on your face, the sheer coldness settling within your eyes at his archnemesis. It made his heart swoon yet… Eobard felt worried at just how frigid you can be. How easy it was for you to turn off those positive emotions that you carry on inside. Would you do the same to him?

“Because I want to go faster,” Barry’s sneered, an abrupt response after your malicious tone caused Eobard’s head to snap back at towards him. “And he’s the only one who can teach me.” The forensics scientist forced out the statement, a steely expression on his face. Barry narrowed his eyes from you down to Eobard, a hint of curiosity in those hazel-greens. “You're the only one who's figured out the equation. The Speed Force. You've manipulated it. How did you do that?”

Before you could say anything, Eobard stood up with crossed arms, whispering to himself. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No.” The older speedster locked his gaze at the wall, running the tips of his fingers over the pebbled half-spheres. Curiously, you quirked an eyebrow before your eyes met with Barry’s, who only slightly shrugged at you. Eobard circled Barry, like a predator circling its next kill. Instead… you sensed something was off by the way his shoulders tensed. “You'd only come here if something went wrong.”

You uttered; a wave of uneasiness flooded over you, “What-but-”

“-If you're still alive, then that means...” Eobard turned to Barry with a grimace. He was one the other side of the room now. You were between the two men, a good distance between each. Your fingers fidgeted as they now remain beside you, heart clenching that all of this wouldn’t work. Dread began stirring inside you, fueling the headache you head earlier, and a sense of insecurity snatched your heart. So, the other Barry was onto to something, he just didn’t want to tell me… I don’t-We don’t get our happy ending. “I haven't beaten you. If you're still alive... that means my plan fails.” Eobard swallows thickly as the words escaped him, avoiding your gaze as a pained expression crossed his face. I don’t go home. I don’t end up taking her with me, making her my bride like I promised all those nights ago. Living far away together from The Flash robbing me from anything else that brings me joy. He blinked a few times, his moment of realization that he would fail turned to pure ballistic intentions in milliseconds. “And if my plan fails,” you shuddered at Eobard’s frustration flourishing as he kicked the chair over. You felt stunned in your place. You felt small. You hated whenever he was in these rage fits, especially when they were about Barry. “I don't get to go home, and if that's the case, well, then-” Eobard had aggressively rounded in quick strides to the restrained speedster, a phasing hand slicing through the air to strike Barry.

“No, no, no! Hey, hey, hey! It's the opposite! It's the opposite!” Barry shouted rapidly to stop the futuristic speedster, holding a hand out to protect himself from Eobard’s phasing hand. His other arm reflexively pulled at his restraint, wishing he could phase out of the cuffs and manifest his speed again. “It... you trick me. You harnessed my speed. We turn on the accelerator to create a path for you to go home. I go back in time. You go back to yours.” The scarlet speedster nodded his head in your direction as he spoke up again before letting his eyes meet Eobard’s heated gaze. You dare say that you saw a hint of sadness in the young speedster’s eyes when he looked at you. “She goes with you. You won. Yeah.” Barry took a breath in, muscles taut at the prospect of his enemy killing him before he got the chance to stop Zoom and his reign of terror.

“Eobard, stop.” You didn’t know when during the exchange you had found yourself right by his side, maneuvering yourself to stand in front of him, promptly blocking his view of Barry. “Eo, look at me.” He did. The dark-haired man gave you a dangerous look, jaw clenched while you reached out to hold onto his raised arm. Your fingers touched his wrist gently. “Breathe,” you spoke intently, searching his eyes for any sign of reason that he normally held. “Anger blinds even the strongest of people- the smartest of people, including speedsters.” You told us that. The phasing hand subsided as you lowered it with ease. Eobard shut his eyes, his hand slipping into yours as he reopened them. The speedster knew what you were saying, knew that he needed to rationalize before acting- before he executed this version of The Flash.

A disposable version, if it means anything to you.

Barry ran a hand over his opposite shoulder, his arm was beginning to numb in place, but his eyes never left the two of you. He clenched and unclenched his hand to circulate the blood. As volatile as Harry is back in his time, Eobard was on equal par. The only difference being that you never knew exactly when the Reverse Flash would bite back, or to what degree. Barry made no comment when you linked hands, but the brown-haired CSI caught the flicker of change in Eobard’s eyes. The yellow speedster’s anger dissipated behind those baby blue hues as his gaze softened for you. Barry observed how you and Eobard deeply cared for each other. All over again. He almost felt bad for the events that would surely lead to Eobard’s removal from existence and your forever broken heart. How the two of you would be forever separated. Almost.

You were conflicted. Hurt. Frustrated. You dad no clue what to think. Barry’s your best friend. He wouldn’t… intentionally hurt you, would he? But then a way future version of Barry seemingly dismissed your existence and your concerns over Eobard. Now this version treated you with the same dismissal, if not with even more loathing. Both versions clearly knew you were with the man in the yellow suit, but… Your heart is a kind one, no matter how damaged or twisted it could get. Deep down, you knew that whatever version of Barry you meet along the way, he’d always be your best friend. Even if Eobard did despise the young speedster and his existence.

“Then why are you here? Why are you here now?” The yellow speedster reverted to a more defensive stance; eyes now locked with Barry’s. You turned to look at this version of your best friend.

“Because when I got back, a singularity had formed. And now the only way for me to learn how to get faster and stop the singularity from happening was to come here. Now.”

“Well, that's good to know.” Eobard sighed to himself, icy hues glancing to yours as a twisted smile greeted his features. Barry looked up at you for any indication that you would help get him out. You pursed your lips regretfully with hesitation. Eobard walked over to his chair, setting it back before pacing once more in the Time Vault. The heroic speedster was increasingly growing uncomfortable on the cold ground. “There's just... Just one thing that occurs to me. I don't need you. Do I?” You watched him turn to Barry, dismissing the look you shot him. “Not this you certainly. Oops. You probably should've thought of that before you came back here. Shame...” A malicious laugh left Eobard as he slowly approached Barry’s helpless form, his fingers twitching to use the powers of the negative speed-force to end Barry Allen. “You ran all the way back here just to die.”

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed at the man you love, side-stepping in front of Eobard. The corner of his lips twitched in an unsettling manner; amusement slightly present in his eyes. “You promised me you wouldn’t hurt him!” A quiet air of relief left Barry. He didn’t… He never knew of the promise you had made with Eobard. That his life wouldn’t be in the hands of death in any way. But he could use this.

“This isn’t your Barry,” Eobard protested in a low voice.

“This is a future version of my best friend, whom you promised me you wouldn’t hurt, maim, and/or kill! Our promise includes any version of Barry Allen.” Eobard chewed on the inside of his cheeks at your words, a sour planted itself on his face when he glanced once more at Barry. The man in the yellow suit knew he would honor his promise to you in the end. He keeps his word, after all.

“You heard her, I’m untouchable.” A cocky smile crossed Barry’s face, shooting it right at Barry. You threw a glare at him, shut the fuck up Barry. I’m the only one holding him back from phasing a hand right through your heart. Any version of you. For once, think before you do something like speaking, especially when you aren’t in a state to be taunting an evil speedster that has you bound. “But by all means, you kill me... Barry... this Barry, your Barry, he learns it all.” He gestured to you and Eobard. Dread filled Eobard as Barry continued to tout out words confidently. The speedster had carefully planned this out, just in case he was to get caught by Thawne. “There's a hidden letter telling him how it ends, how to beat you, everything. Anything happens to me; you never make it back home.” Barry turned to you with stoically cold eyes. “She never sees you again.” Take those words as you will, Thawne. Your hands fell limply beside you as you Eobard clenched his hands into tight fists. You heard your heart drum loudly in your ears at the prospect of this Barry’s threat. With heavy feet, you padded away from Barry before turning to eye him with cautious eyes. Eobard’s face was devoid of any emotion as he took a seat while you settled beside him. “Go on. Kill me, Thawne. See how this all ends.” Eobard held his breath, weighing his options. Pros and cons. Gains and losses. “Now, you're gonna help me get faster.” Resting a hand on Eobard’s shoulder you squeezed it, trying to use your touch to convey ease into him while Barry smirked triumphantly at the two of you. Eobard’s face twitched in silent fuming.

“Dr. Wells, Ms. (L/N),” Gideon’s voice cut through the deadly second of silence, “the time wraith has appeared.” The AI broadcasted a screen of Cisco and Caitlin running to the Pipeline, entering the cell that Hartley resides in and sealing it. Its grotesque body swayed in the air. Half-formed limbs scratching the glass as your friends screamed for any indication that this thing can be yoinked away and out of existence.

“Barry! (Y/N)! Dr. Wells!” Caitlin shrieked as the Time Wraith pounded on the glass, shattering a segment, but not piercing through into the cell. Ghostly fumes emitted from the hauntingly decaying figure. Cisco and Hartley were fumbling with the gauntlets while another piercing scream echoed throughout that sector of the labs.

“Oh my god, we have to do something! It’s going to kill them!” You whipped your head to the two of them. They’re the ones with speed.

“You let it track you here,” Eobard turned with a pointed look at Barry.

Barry shook his restraints, with an anxious look, “Get me out of here! Come on!”

Eobard sneered in a gruff tone, “If that thing comes after me and messes with my plans, you're all dead.”

“Now’s not the time to be making death threats, especially when he’s the one with max speed-force in his veins!” You reprimanded Eobard, who threw you a look while rolling his eyes at you before setting Barry free. Standing up, Barry felt his speed return to him as he shook his numbed limb. The two men nodded at each other, yellow and red electricity crackling in the air. Eobard wrapped a lithe limb around your waist, his other hand firmly grasping the back of his wheelchair. Both speedsters sped out of the Time Vault in a torrent of lightning.

***

“I'm sorry that we didn't come sooner,” Barry apologized, for the 2nd time as he stepped quickly into the Cortex with you trailing behind him and Eobard. His heart was heavy at the prospect of his presence here was causing his friends more trouble than he intended. Caitlin and Cisco took their respective seats at the main Cortex monitors while you and Dr. Wells lingered a bit behind.

“It's all right, Inky's gone. I don't see anything,” Cisco breathed out, eyes focused on the computer screen. He flipped through all the camera footage before turning his head to Dr. Wells. “You know, we'd be toast if wasn't for Hartley and those gauntlets.”

“Well, self-preservation is a very strong motivator, but he stays in the cell until I say otherwise,” Eobard starkly dictated, subtly out of breath from the little run around the labs to the Pipeline. Your eyes raked over him worriedly. He didn’t have all his speed, especially since he used up a good amount on Christmas. Eobard’s body’s still feeling the side effects of his speed-force in a state of flux.

Cisco turned back to the monitors, “Okay, I'm just saying.”

“So, the two places this thing has attacked are here and CCPD.” You took your tablet and ran scans over the Labs then the city for an abnormal particle signature. You also had Gideon secretly run a scan over Barry’s lab, just in case it decided to make a reappearance there. Particularly ones of tachyons or from the speed-force.

“The common denominator being...” Caitlin trailed off, swiveling her chair towards Barry.

“Me. Yeah, I know. I just... I don't know why.” Barry let out an exasperated sigh.

“Well, you must have done something to piss him off.” Cisco added in; his computer pinged negatively after a couple of scans. “Satellite hasn't found anything.”

Eobard nervously wrung his hands, eyes meeting yours for a moment. “We need to find a more permanent solution to this problem.” He gestured when he continued to Caitlin and Cisco. “Start by repairing Hartley's gauntlets. That's about as good a first step as any.”

“I got some parts for it.” Cisco nodded at Dr. Wells, glancing at you. You already knew what he was about to ask.

“I’ve got any vitals and scans for the city until you two come back.” You held up your tablet with a little smile on your face. “Don’t worry, I’ve go your back.”

“Let's go for it,” Caitlin grinned, turning to Cisco. The two of them took their leave. Once they were out of earshot and out of sight you whipped around with an incredulous look on your face.

“You don't know how to stop a Time Wraith?” You and Barry both quired, which irritated Eobard at the sync.

“None of us do.” The speedster responded roughly. You felt bad for Eobard, his entire plan to get home is in jeopardy because of a future version of Barry. “That's why we always try and avoid them in our travels.”

“‘We’?” You and Barry just gave each other looks, simultaneously responding together once more. The scarlet speedster sneered at you, that was enough to shut you up and take a seat back at the monitors.

“‘Speedsters’... we're not the only two out there, you know?”

“This isn't the first time I've time traveled. How come I've never seen one of these until now?”

Eobard stood up, his demeanor clearly showed he was pissed and exasperated, but he kept his emotions in check. Especially with the Time Wraith looming around somewhere. He stepped closer towards Barry. “Because you ran out of luck.” You watched Barry lean against the railing, shaking his head when Eobard continued before grudgingly meeting your eyes. You offered him a sympathetic smile, he reluctantly returned it. “And Time Wraiths hate it when speedsters manipulate the timeline, and now that thing's gonna do everything it can to end you.” You wanted to say something but decided against it. Barry scoffed at Eobard, rolling his eyes when the man turned away from him. “Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go to CCPD. You're gonna see what you can find to help us stop this thing-” Eobard nodded at you. You collected your things and got up, ready to work. “-We'll do the same here.”

“Well, what am I supposed to be looking for?

You started, “Barr, You're in forensics-“

“-Figure something out.” The man in the yellow suit only sent a warning glare to Barry, pulling his damned wheelchair along with him.

“Hey, what about the equation? Me getting faster?” Barry’s nostrils flared, stepping forward and gesturing to the clear board that held the speed equation.

“If we don't stop this thing, there's gonna be no point in me teaching you anything.” With that the two parted, Eobard sat back in his chair and he wheeled to his side lab whereas Barry let out an exhausted sigh. He rubbed his face, eyes meeting yours once more. Grabbing his coat, the young speedster pushed past you, his shoulders bumping yours. The action didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend, who narrowed his eyes from afar then turned back to his work. Your eyes lingered for a moment before an idea popped into your head.

“I think I should go with him,” you turned towards Eobard, running a hand over your hair and loosening your hair out of the hair tie. Maybe that’ll help with the headaches.

“What?”

“With Barry”

“No, absolutely not!”

“Why not?” You pouted, taking a seat beside him. You subtly wanted to see how many buttons you can push while this version of Barry was here.

“Over my. Rotting. Corpse.”

You froze at his comment, his body was already turned away from you. A mental image of Eobard’s corpse vividly plagued you. Blinking a few times, that phrase echoed in your head. It’s like I’ve heard that before… but where? You needed to shake the feeling off. “Don’t say things like that! If anything happens, I’ll let you know what’s going on.” You lightly slap his arm. The corner of Eobard’s lips turned up slightly then he leaned over for a kiss. You gave him a chaste one to finish your defense on the situation. “Plus, you and I both know you can handle things here at the lab. You don’t need me around.”

“I will always want you to be around me, even if I’m working. Besides the point- stay away from Barry.” He emphasized. “The Time Wraith is here for him; it hasn’t detected me. I don’t…” Eobard sighed through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours and you felt your breath hitch. “I can’t lose you to that monster.”

“…”

“Please, kitten.” He looked at you desperately.

“Only because you said ‘please’,” you kissed his cheek fondly, giving in to him. You didn’t miss the way his voice strained at the thought of losing you or the fact that he asked. Eobard generally never asks, not until he met you. The speedster glanced at you when you were recalibrating the satellites, he noticed the fake grin that you plastered on your face at his corpse comment. He made a mental note to ask you what’s wrong later. It hurt his heart to see you put up a wall right now, but it was understandable, to say the least. “You know, I always like watching you work.”

“Why is that?”

“Dunno, maybe I just like watching you work your magic with those capable hands of yours.”

“I can show you just how capable these hands are tonight.” Your speedster wiggled his eyebrows at you, eliciting a deep blush and giggle. His hand left the device on the table, resting on your thigh. You felt your body temperature spike up even more at his touch.

“Eobard, you can’t say things like that at work!”

“Why not? I’m the boss.” The speedster whispered to you, his blue eyes hypnotizing you. Eobard leaned close, slotting himself to kiss your neck a few times.

A sweet sigh left your lips. “What if the others walk in on us?” You pressed a hand against his sturdy chest. Eobard pressed a kiss below your ear before a chuckle left his lips.

“I’m sure they’ll allow me a free pass, just this once.”

***

After a few hours or so, Cisco and Caitlin came back with the gauntlets. The two explained how the managed to save every piece and analyze their potential. Cisco and Dr. Wells remained in a heavily – mechanical engineer type of conversation that you and Caitlin stayed silent for.

“So, can these gauntlets be salvaged?” Dr. Wells questioned, wheeling closer to the displayed Hartley’s sonic gauntlets.

“Their electron guns are fried,” Cisco shook his head.

“So, it shorted the wave tubes-“

“-And destroyed the amplifiers.” They both finished the thought.

“Yeah, but to be honest with you, I don't know how to manipulate the frequency variance.” Cisco spoke, glancing at the three of you.

“Hartley would know.” Caitlin added in, hands on her sides, “He's the one who did it.”

“As much as a dick that he was, he seems to be an expert with sound waves and frequency variance of such caliber,” you mused, nodding with Caitlin.

“See if he can help, but he stays in the cell,” the genius scientist instructed,

“But then what? That thing's gonna come back.” Cisco retaliated

“I don't know,” Dr. Wells stated exasperatedly. He didn’t know what to do, Hartley’s guns were the only thing he’s known to deter the Time Wraiths. If only the electron guns weren’t fired then he would have been able to dissect and adjust the gauntlets.

“Hey, its going to be ok,” you tried reassuring everyone, mainly Eobard. “We always end up crossing over these kinds of bridges. We’ve got the smartest minds and the most skilled scientists here.” Cisco and Caitlin smiled a bit at you. But you saw the calculating look on Eobard’s eyes. The futuristic villain was taking this harder than Barry himself, walking on eggshells particularly with concealing his speed. Taking any precaution to ensure his safety as well as yours. Your boyfriend explained that if you had gotten closer to the Time Wraith it would sense you. You blushed slightly at the next thought Theoretically, he said his speed-force signature particles had rubbed off on me… Probably from one too many nights of-

“Where is he? Where's the other Flash?” A different Barry demanded. Your version of Barry demanded, out of breath and pissed as hell. Your eyes widened at the sudden appearance of this time’s Flash, mouth open for a bit before closing it. Eobard just covered his face, silently counting to 10 before he choked a bitch.

Well shit, I totally forgot about our Barry.

“Right here.”

Well fuck

[euphoria-vmin7]

lucent | kth

pairing: artist! kim taehyung x reader

genre/warnings: FLUFF FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, seriously some of the sappiest things i’ve ever written, taehyung is a sweetheart, oc is WAY too curious, established relationship, artist! taehyung, some tears but happy tears, they’re both just so in love with each other :(

word count: 3,446

summary: artistic as ever, taehyung’s gotten inspired and started up on another new project. except this time, he won’t let you see what he’s working on. and patience is not something you’re good at.

rating: pg

--a/n: and here’s my next submission for the BGW BINGO BASH!! this fills the “don’t touch that!” square. enjoy :)

REPOSTING THIS FOR THE 5TH TIME AND HOPING THAT IT WORKS :( 

Lucent

lu·cent

adj. softly bright or radiant

© euphoria-vmin7 2020. all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or modify.

Your bare toes felt cold as they pressed against the wooden floor, and you winced as the boards creaked in the silence of your apartment. Stepping out of the warmth of your bedroom’s covers and into the hall had goosebumps erupting over your flesh, and you hugged your cardigan closer to your body. You stopped to adjust the thermostat, increasing the temperature just a few more degrees to make up for the frosty snow that was covering the ground outside. Gushes of wind hit the glass of the windows, causing a shiver to run through you despite not feeling its chill. Eyeing the dim glow of light spilling into the hallway, you knew exactly where to go.

His back was partially to you, body hunched over his drawing pad with determination and a bit of weariness. Sketches were littered across the floor, many of them crumbled into balls that had just narrowly missed the trash can in the corner of the room. In front of him, a huge blank canvas was propped against his easel and his paints were tightly shut on the side. He hummed to himself quietly, his fingers working swiftly as his pencil replicated the images in his mind, so deeply consumed with his visions that he didn't even notice you there.

“Are you coming to bed?” you asked quietly, leaning against the doorframe to admire him. He didn’t jump or startle, instead looking up to see you and pausing his work. He flipped the sketch over quickly, but you were too tired to even attempt to notice. The smile he gave you, though tired, was filled with the radiance you knew only he had.

“In a bit,” he replied, soft eyes sparkling with the dim orange glow filling his studio.

You pushed off the edge of the door and approached him, slipping your arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss his cheek.

“Taehyung,” you sighed softly. “It’s so late,”

“I know, love,” he replied, picking up your fingers to press his lips to them. “I just wanna finish this sketch,”

“We both know that might take all night,” you mumbled, cheeks flushing at the affection even after so long. You didn’t want to admonish him, as his inspiration often struck at the most random of times, but you wanted him to get his sleep. Taehyung’s long fingers brushed over your exposed wrists where the sleeves of your cardigan had lifted and you shivered once more.

“Promise it won’t,” he answered, his voice a deep and dulcet tone that flowed like the sweetest honey. “I’m almost done,”

“I miss you,” you said quietly, pressing close to his cheek with a small pout that had him chuckling.

“I’ll be there,” he hummed, his thumb tracing over your palm slowly. The tips of his fingers were smudged with pencil lead, but you could care less.

“Okay,” you said, smiling at him sweetly and he brushed his lips against your palm once more as you pulled away. “Don’t work too much,”

He hummed and flipped his sketch back over, almost immediately immersing himself into his creation once more. For a second you watched him work, his round glasses perched low on his nose, the sleeves of his brown turtleneck pulled up to the elbow, and the golden glow the light brought to his honey-kissed skin, before heading to bed, deciding that you had never seen a prettier sight.

Taehyung slid into bed after you had already fallen back asleep, his movements hushed. But you’ve always been a light sleeper, so in seconds he’s watching you turn to face him with droopy eyes.

“What are you working on?” you mumbled, closing your eyes and nuzzling into him.

“Just a project for class,” he answered, tugging his glasses off to place them on the nightstand behind him. “It’s pretty important,”

“Oh?” you smiled. “I’m sure it’ll turn out great. It always does,”

Taehyung chuckled. “Thank you, love. I hope you like it,”  

You had never seen Taehyung more immersed in a project. Sure, with all of his projects he put in the utmost care and dedication into making them perfect. But this one, without a doubt, was the one he was most serious about. He’d come home after class and go straight into his studio, working for hours on end until you were too tired to wait any longer. And only once you were fast asleep would he slide into bed next to you with a sweet kiss to your head before the cycle repeated the next morning. You didn’t mind. You knew this routine would continue as Taehyung’s creativity continued to run at high speed. Seeing the satisfaction on his face once he finished was worth the wait.  

You didn’t count on him being so secretive though. While he normally was pretty open with letting you see his artwork, he wouldn’t let you even catch a glimpse of this one. He had even turned the large canvas away from the door of the studio so you couldn’t casually glance at it as you passed by. And when he was done working on it he covered it with an old white tablecloth. Everytime you’d ask to see it he’d simply respond with a “Sure, I’ll show you later,”

Except later never came.

The day would end without a glimpse of the masterpiece Taehyung was surely hiding under the cloth, and your curiosity would only grow as they passed. It took a large amount of self-control to not just sneak into his studio and take a peek, but you managed to push through.

Now a few weeks later, you gripped Taehyung’s arm as you quietly hummed to yourself, eyes lazily drifting around the familiar coffee shop while waiting to order. It always had such a familiar coziness to it, filled with memories of you and Taehyung since the day you first met him. Thinking about how your relationship had developed over time spurred an innocent happiness within, a contentment with what he had given you all this time. What started out as an amiable friendship that later blossomed into such a pure, everlasting love brewed in this very coffee shop. In a way, it was as though the cups of espresso and spoons of sugar had bore witness to the rapid changes in your relationship, so that if you ever forgot, they would be there to remind you.

At the sound of his name, Taehyung flashed the cashier a smile as she placed two cups on the counter. He pulled out his wallet and handed her his card with a light flourish of his wrist before his eyes caught a trinket in the pocket. Glancing at the picture he had been looking at everyday for years, he grinned to himself and looked at you, watching as you hummed and took in the cafe with a simple smile. His heart swelled with sweet contentment just as it always did when you were around, and he brushed a thumb over the picture before closing his wallet and sliding it into his pocket. Taehyung thanked the cashier and handed you your cup, before taking your hand in his, quietly admiring the way they fit so snugly.

The cold frosty air of the winter morning brushed against your cheeks as you stepped out into the street. A steady stream of smoke billowed past your lips and the coffee you were holding was warm against your cooled skin, though Taehyung’s hand was much warmer. He began walking with you down the busy street, eyes moving over the sights of the city with admiration. You wondered what inspirations were bustling through his mind. Whether the scenery around him would look better in paint or pastels. Whether he should capture it with a brush or with a click of his camera. Taehyung was always so artistic, his mind a wonder that you longed to explore.

“You’re staring at me,”

You bit your lip to hide your smile, having been caught in this position far too many times to be embarrassed anymore. “You’re pretty,” was your simple reply.

“So are you,” he answered, a slight grin on his face as he continued with his eyes straight ahead. Despite hearing this many times, however, you flushed. Though all that you managed to let out was an unattractive snort.

“You’re prettier,”  you stressed and Taehyung shrugged beside you.

“Can’t argue there,” he said casually and you threw your head head back to allow a laugh to escape.

“So…” you started, giving him a sidelong glance as you walked. “When are you gonna tell me what that huge thing in the studio is?”

“Oh that?” he asked, a neat brow raising as he looked at you.

“Yes that,” you rolled your eyes playfully. “The huge painting or whatever it is that you’ve been obsessing over for the past few weeks. When can I see?”

“You can see later,” he sighed, lips quirking at the corner.

“You always say later,” you pouted, tugging his hand lightly. “And then you never show me,”

“Fine,” he chuckled. “You can see it when I’m done,”

“But-” you deflated, shoulders slumping. “That might take forever!”

“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” he laughed, moving his hand to slip comfortably around your waist.

“Can’t help it,” you shrugged. “Your art is always amazing and I want to know what that mind of yours thought up this time,”

He had it in him to blush at your compliments. “Be patient, sweetheart. You’ll see soon,”

As it turned out, patience was not your strong suit. With everyday that passed, Taehyung would be practically glowing as he emerged from his studio, and the curiosity grew further. You wondered what this school project consisted of. What kind of masterpiece he had created that made him so happy.

The curiosity lingered in the back of your mind, but you had to put it aside as you bent over your textbook, fingers woven erratically through your hair as you tried to memorize the terms for your upcoming exams. Every single noise was teasing you as a means for distraction and you struggled to stay focused on the work you did not want to do. You didn’t even have Taehyung here to motivate you to stay on task. He had stepped out for a bit to head to his favorite art store a few blocks over - something about not having anymore of the perfect yellow paint.

Your eyes lazily drifted over the definition, knowing fully well that you had been reading the same sentence for the last six minutes, and you craved a reason to get distracted. You sighed wearily and pushed away your thoughts before sitting up straight and focusing.

As soon as your stomach grumbled, however, you shot up from your chair with a grin, fully intent on grabbing a snack. The responsible part of your subconscious was reprimanding you, but the more prominent lazy part stuck its tongue out in response. The apartment felt quiet without Taehyung, despite the fact that he had always been a man of few words. His presence was always noticeable and you missed it now that it was gone, even if it was for only a little while.

After grabbing a juice box and a pack of pretzels, your mood soured as you began walking down the hallway to your impending doom. Just knowing that you had to go sit and study made your pace falter. You feebly attempted to stall as you stopped to adjust a picture frame, but knew that it wasn’t going to do much good in the long run.

You were about to give up when you passed by Taehyung’s studio and the curiosity that you had pushed aside came rushing back. Without really noticing it, you found yourself wandering in, glancing at the flecks of paint that had splashed across the sheets Taehyung had placed on the floor. His smock was hanging on the corner of one of his easels and his paint brushes were dipped in cups of mud colored water.

You chewed on your lip nervously as your eyes raked over the tablecloth covering his most recent work. A part of you was telling you to forget about it but another part was so damn curious. Just a peek couldn’t hurt, right?

Your fingers twitched as you raised your hand to grasp the cloth, the material smooth between them. With a final huff, you pulled the sheet down just as the studio door slammed open and Taehyung yelled out a hurried

“Don’t touch that!”

But the words soared straight over your head as you gazed at the canvas in complete shock. You barely registered the tablecloth slipping from your fingers entirely, instead letting your wide eyes rake over the absolute masterpiece in front of you.

“Taehyung…” you breathed out, mouth agape in wonder. “What...What is this?”

The brunette didn’t answer, and your heart briefly dropped in fear that he would be angry at you for your actions. But then he was chuckling softly, his hand massaging his temple in an almost endearing manner. You reluctantly tore your eyes away from the canvas to look at him nervously, but he only smiled sweetly, taking a stand behind you to look over his own creation.

“What does it look like?” he grinned, his glasses sliding just a bit down the sharp slope of his nose. “It’s you,”

It was you. Sprawled across the canvas in strokes of paint that you knew belonged to Taehyung only, was you. He had painted you in a pose you had never seen before and the way he did it made you look so astonishingly beautiful, it had your throat swelling with emotion. The way he picturized you made you feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet, and you marveled at the talent that flowed through his veins and past his fingertips.

“But you-“ you started, struggling with your words. “This is absolutely beautiful, Taehyung! Where did you get the idea to paint me this way?”

His rectangular smile was radiant as he gazed at you, pulling out his wallet quickly.

“This,” he sighed, holding a small printed photo out in front of you. You took it with care, and smiled as you recognized the scene. You were seated in a field, wearing a bright yellow sundress and smiling as you pointed out something in the distance. It was an exact replica of what Taehyung had painted on the canvas in front of you.

“This is from when we went on that picnic in the fields behind Seokjin’s farmhouse,” you grinned, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t even know you took this picture,”

“Blame Jungkook for getting me into photography,” the brunette smiled. “At that moment I thought that I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my life. It was the moment I realized that I felt more love for you than a friend would,”

“Oh, Taehyung,” you sighed, beaming at him as your cheeks flushed.

“It was that moment that led to where we are now. After the picnic, I realized that I was so in love with you, I asked you out the very next day, remember?”

You nodded bashfully. “How could I forget?”

“It was one of the most important days of my life. So it seemed like the best thing to paint as a prelude to the next gift I’m about to give you,”

You breathed out an amused laugh. “Another gift? You’re spoiling me, Tae,”

He chuckled as he tucked the photo away and pushed his wallet back into the pocket of his pants.

“Well, I was actually going to wait to give you the gifts. I was gonna wait until this weekend when we went to Seokjin hyung’s farmhouse and give it to you in the field,”

“Aww,” you cooed, feeling slightly guilty for ruining his plans. “That’s so sweet,”

“But,” he gave you a pointed stare and you winced sheepishly. “Since someone was so curious, I guess now’s as good of a time as any,”

“Okay but I’m still trying to process this gift,” you grinned, eyes focusing on the painting once more. “It’s so beautiful Tae, I can't believe you made this for me-“

Your words died down in your throat as you glanced at Taehyung, his expression a mixture of nervousness and happiness.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his cheek in your hand. He pulled it away from his face and kissed your palm sweetly before gently gripping your fingers.  

“I would’ve liked more time to practice this before the weekend but I’m just gonna wing it,” he chuckled, his cheeks a deep shade of pink. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“(Name), I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have met you all those years ago. I guess I should be thanking Jimin for that but since the day you first walked into my life, you’ve done nothing but make me happy. We became such good friends after getting to know each other and I realized that you were one of the few people who actually understood me. Who cared for me and wanted the best for me. And I don’t know when exactly I started falling in love with you but I guess I’ve always known that you're the only girl for me. Being with you has been like a dream that I never want to wake up from. I look at you and wonder what you could ever see in someone like me, how you could possibly love me as much as you do now. And sometimes I feel unworthy of you or scared that maybe you’d be better off without me. But you always tell me that you love me for who I am and just like that all my doubts are gone. I’m so lucky you gave a guy like me a chance because I don’t know where I’d be without you. You’re my muse and my inspiration. Everyday you encourage me, motivate me, and care for me and I love you more than any words or paint or art could describe. You make me so so happy and I just can’t help but think about what it’d be like to spend the rest of our lives together,”

You watched with wide eyes as Taehyung’s hand emerged from his pocket holding a small black box. Your breathing picked up as he slowly lowered himself to a knee and smiled at you from the floor. Your heart was thudding against your ribcage and you feared that he just might be able to hear it. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears though he was donning a lucent smile that had your heart fluttering. “So (Name), my love, would you make me the happiest man on the planet and be my wife?”

And with that last question he opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring. It wasn’t huge or garish, but an effortless jewel mirroring the sweet simplicity that was Taehyung. Your breath hitched as you clasped your hands over your lips, a sound between a laugh and a sob escaping your throat as tears spilled over your waterline. His words tugged on your heartstrings in all the right ways, and you took a minute to realize that this was real. That Taehyung was yours and you were his and he really loved you.

“Yes,” you let out a watery laugh as you nodded. “Yes of course I’ll marry you, Taehyung,”

He stood up quickly, the brightest smile on his face as he sniffled and you laughed fondly as he slipped the ring onto your finger before scooping you into his arms and kissing you sweetly. He laughs into his kisses and you can’t help but join him because god, you love him more than anything. His fingers traced the cool metal of the ring nestled perfectly around your finger before he interlaced them with a squeeze.

“I love you,” he mumbled, smiling as he pressed another sweet kiss to your lips. You sniffled as he moved his thumb to catch a stray tear against your cheek.

“I love you too,”

He buried his face into your neck and you could feel his smile on your skin, butterflies erupting in your gut for the millionth time. Over his shoulder, your eyes raked over the beauty he had captured in his brush strokes and your heart swelled as you thought about all the masterpieces you’d get to see for the rest of your life. Though the greatest one would always be him.

.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Drama CD]   AGF’19  Uta No Prince Sama: Sweets Vampire ~Key towards your heart~ Side: Kotobuki Reiji

Company: Broccoli CV: Morikubo Shoutaro ( 森久保 祥太郎 )

*Commissioned by @utapriciation, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

A place where only the chosen can tread upon; a forbidden mansion. The enthralling scent of sweet chocolate and freshly baked confectioneries drifts in the air, enticing and ensnaring the poor souls that dare step foot into the mansion.

And sleeping within the tightly enclosed chocolate coffins…

Were none other than Vampires. Eternal, immortal, immaculate and seeking love forevermore. The only things that can awaken these slumbering being are a secret key and your sweet, delicious love.

And that key, is proof that you’ve entered a contract with one of the dwelling vampires in the mansion. Such an innocent and pure love you bring; so much power. Thus, the vampire will wait upon you. In exchange for the immense power they gain in return.

Now…

Use that burning passion of yours to melt these glacial icy hearts that never beat…

For a sought after, never-ending, immortally eternal love. I wonder if you know how long I’ve waited for such a moment to come. You’re the main character from the moment that key landed in your hand.

Sweets Vampire: Key to melt your heart

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ༻ ✩ ༺ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Mnngh…? Just a little...Let me sleep for a while more. Let me slumber till later in the da- no, I suppose it should be early in the day now. I’ve been up writing all day long. It’s still early in the night so I can still have the excuse of laying back a little easier, right? Besides, I don’t think it’s ethical for you to be coming all the way here without informing anyone beforehand. Even I have conveniences to meet, despite how I look, I’m actually quite the busy person.

There’s no need for you to apologize that much. Everyone makes mistakes. How about this then; My head hurts from the lack of sleep so could you rub it gently for me? Treat it as an apology of sorts, if you have to.

Is this the first time you’re meeting a vampire? You don’t have to be that terrified. Look, see? I’m not that different from a human now, am I? How nice. You might have a knack for massaging heads. There; you’re finally smiling. That suits you much better. Here, come closer so that you’ll be able to reach better with your massage. Heh, caught you. See? I lied about my head hurting. I mean, look. I’m a vampire, so there’s no way I could ever be suffering from sleep deprivation. I’m dead, after all. See? My heart doesn’t beat now, does it? You already know that and you want me to release my hold on you? Nope. I wish to stay close to you for a bit longer.

Yeah. Huh, I can’t believe this excuse actually works. Your innocence and naiveness is an attractive feature in and off itself but this means that you’re an easy target for trickery...and that’s not very good...I’ll be very worried in the future so I’ll educate you well. You can’t ever go onto a guy’s bed as unguarded as you are now, okay? Because someone like you will only be gobbled right up. Just joking~ Did you think I’d actually kiss you on the lips? I’m a gentleman so I’ll settle for doing it on your forehead. Well, I can understand why you’d fall for that though. I used to be an actor in the past. So this means that I’ve yet to lose my acting prowess. Hm? You want to hear more about my past? Wow, you’re really brimming with curiosity when it comes to me, huh.

Sure. I’ll tell you everything; until you eventually get bored of it.

Just like I told you before, I was an actor before I became a vampire. I was part of a theatrical troupe, writing stories to entertain the folks and those of higher class. Stories about affection and love were the hot favourites. Things like gossip, maybe. I’m sharp, so I pick up on these things easily. Plus, there’s no end to it on the streets so I had plenty of references to work with. However, somewhere along the way, I felt an emptiness in my heart. I write to support myself, so I have to be aware of what the recruiters would want to see. I’d write what they’d want and not what I, myself, wanted. So I was troubled for quite a while, thinking if the works I made were actually things that I personally wanted to write. And then came a genius, who eventually became my rival while I was still conflicting with myself. I was in a hurry, panicking about the new rival. So I made a story, one with a hint of spice, based off a real incident. Something different from the rest of my works up till now. Something taboo. And then...Somebody poisoned me. Alas, that’s how I came to be standing here right now. I guess I dug my own grave since I used the story of someone else as a stepping stone to elevate myself from the masses in a fit of wild panic.

While I might have used unorthodox methods back then, I learnt one thing from that fatal experience of mine. Vampires aren’t the scary ones in the world; it’s humans that you have to be afraid of. Because just a little of anything, a small misstep; and they’d kill you off without batting an eyelid. But!! That might be what makes humans so alluring. All that power they hold in their hands, one that can end another’s life despite what a small minute existence they are. Now, I wonder how far that story has traveled after my death. Perhaps it may be still alive, moving around the streets through word of mouth. Maybe more popular, now that I’m no longer a part of the living. I guess that might just be what amounts to the stage equipment in a play since the world’s just like one gigantic stage in my eyes.

Who killed me? Was it me? Was it a Sparrow? Or was it someone, who noticed me and eventually grew to despise me? Now, here’s a story. You can only count how many there might be that arises. This story is one where people who have died turn into vampires and are revived as such. Those who still hold onto the strings of feelings so strong that they’re able to return to the land of the living. Different, but amongst them. And now, with how I am right now! I can write and research anything I wish, freely. I’ve been writing, just as I have been before I died. It’s a life that I could only dream of before. And what colours my life now...That’d be Tokiya and Syo. They were turned into vampires way after me, but they’re an interesting duo, those two. Tokiya was a doctor before he turned. A genius, researching immortality. If he lived a little longer...his research might have been stolen by others. But I don’t know what happened now that he’s firmly out of the picture. Syo’s his friend. He’s still as bright and honest as ever, despite having turned. Now, if only I was like that. I’d probably be going down a different path in life and I probably wouldn’t have been poisoned to death either.

In exchange for pulling a few strings here to allow them to live in this manor, they exchanged their life stories for a roof over their heads. And now I’m free to use their stories to make my own. Although it’s a little hard to swallow because you’re writing stories about how pitiful the lives of others are. Tokiya even brought up how he wasn’t such a chatterbox. And Syo got mad real quick and yelled about how I shouldn’t be writing him off as a midget.

Although I personally think that’s only but the truth, but that might be why they’re in denial in the end. It’s still a happy incident, though. Freedom after death. Everyone can enjoy the stories of anybody to their heart’s content with no fear of any drawbacks whatsoever. 

Ah...Sorry, this conversation went on a little longer than expected. Let’s end the small talk here and get to the real topic at hand. What I actually want to talk about right now is our story. This new story of ours that is about to unfold. It might be too early, but how about one of love and romance with a little flair of the dramatic? It’s up to you to decide how this story turns out in the end. With you as the master and how this romance with the underling blooms. How about we start it off like this? It was love at first sight. Me, the underling who’s subjugated under the master, wakes up to see a cute, lovely girl. And she wasn’t just cute but she was innocent as well. Those bright sparkling eyes that’d look at me as she’d hear everything that I have to say. The owner of a beautiful heart. I wonder how I can make someone so lovely fall for me. Even though I want to treasure you and treat you as the treasure you’re supposed to me, there’s a part of me, somewhere within. Something greedy and ugly that wants to take you all for myself. Even though I’m normally smooth around others, I just don’t know what to do with myself when I’m around you. I’m no good, aren’t I?

That’s not the case at all? Really? No lying. You just, can’t. Even if you’re trying to be nice. Haha. You don’t have to deny so vehemently, I get it. I know fully well that you mean it. Besides, the sound of my heartbeat is drowning out everything else when you gaze at me like that. You’re just as lovely and nice as I thought you were. I can never win against something like that. Even if I try to shy away, you’d just open more doors into more possibilities. Heh, that’s right. I can’t just be hiding and running away from everything. I have to throw away this veil of lies and deceit and show you the real me that’s hiding behind this facade that I created. That’s right, I’m not the one that needs this veil right now. Perhaps you’re the one that requires it most. This veil, set atop your head, whit and flowy. And then a profession of love that’s not far behind. Ah, yes. The end of this story will be nothing short of a happy ending. Clapping’s forbidden, though. How strange for me to be this muddled when it comes to you. So much that my mind blanks out and I can’t think of anything else. I never knew that it was such a wonderful feeling to be able to trust someone from the very bottom of my heart like this.

I think the final and last part of this story has already been set in stone. And so, the duo shared a hot passionate kiss and lived on happily forever. Now, here’s the kiss to seal it all. I love you.

[katiechat]

Beneath a Canvas of Stars

This is a fic that was first intended to be for Ladynoir July, but then I kind of gave up on it and just kept it in my WIP folder. A few months later I decided to return to it because I really liked the concept and wanted to finish it!

Dedicated to @mininoire and @inkjackets to @helgabatwrittings for a very late birthday present! <3

Tagging also @fallsofnoir @ange-lica-3 @swiftieanimecat and @sassykittynoir @smileytrinity in case you want to read it. Please let me know if you want to be put on or taken off the tag list. <3

Written for @ladynoirjuly2020 Day 2: Stargazing.

Summary: Ladybug and Chat Noir learn a bit more about each other under the stars.

Ao3

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

Adrien arrived at their spot with a notebook in hand. Thousands of questions filled its insides, crammed through so many pages. Ever since Ladybug gave him her promise, these questions were all he could think about.

Ladybugs filled his stomach with a strange combination of hope and dread. He walked closer, his hand gripping his notebook tightly.

His partner already sat with her back to him, gazing up at the darkening sky. The sight of her was as familiar as the mask he currently wore, and yet he still froze in place. The last rays of sun made her shine in a strange ethereal glow. It was as if, just like him, the sun didn't want to let her go.

But night was rapidly taking over, coloring the sky with an inky black. Stars would soon emerge, and then the time would come.

He swallowed.

“Kitty,” Ladybug faced him. Her eyes seemed brighter than the early stars amidst the darkness, more powerful than any surrounding lamps. “You’ve been standing there for a long time.”

Adrien shook himself. “Yeah, I was just... thinking,” he explained.

He let his legs lead him to her, and absentmindedly sat beside her: close enough for a friend, but far enough to keep it that way. 

“I was worried something happened to you,” Ladybug admitted. “I'm glad you're okay.”

He lay his notebook behind himself. “All thanks to you, Milady.”

He winked, and she laughed.

“You're giving me too much credit, mon Chaton.”

The tension left her shoulders. Before Adrien could say a word, she scooted closer. Her warmth taunted him, as if he stood just a step away from heaven. She lay her head on his shoulder as they looked at the night sky, her strong hands gripping his arm like a treasure she’d never want to let go.

She smelled sweet: like the croissants Marinette often brought to class, beautiful pastries with a wonderful flavor. He let her scent envelop him, taking him to a place far from all of life’s troubles.

But then the cold night air emerged, making him shiver. It bit his skin mercilessly, like a reminder that the warmth of the girl beside him was never truly his. And yet, he still felt the pace of his heart slow, as if this really was good enough.

He gazed at her. Who was he kidding? She was more than enough. It didn't matter whether she was a friend or something more.

Yet a part of him still hurt. Because this moment was so close to what he wanted, yet still so far away.

“Kitty? Is something wrong?”

Before he could answer, Ladybug cupped his cheek. A warm thumb ran over his skin, sending sparks everywhere it touched, and Adrien’s pulse quickened once more.

Somehow, she still held that power over him.

Her gaze roved over his face, taking in every little secret he held. Her sky-blue eyes shone brilliantly in the weak fluorescent lights, lighting up a part deep within him. It was as if the darkness brought out even more of her potent courage, and he was powerless to resist.

He didn’t know how he found his voice. “I-I'm fine, Milady.”

She didn't immediately let go. Only after a few more minutes did she back away before, once again, resting her head on his shoulder. She grabbed onto his arm, this time even tighter, before letting herself relax. Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as the tension left her body, giving way to more of her warmth.

The sky gradually grew darker, shrouding them in a world of their own. Ladybug’s grin widened the more time passed, making the night seem so much brighter. Adrien basked in her happiness. Sweet, innocent contentment filled his insides, as if all he needed in life was her smile; as if she was his whole world.

When she spoke again, it was with a grin so powerful, it lit up the whole city. “One question for each star,” she repeated, just like the promise she had made to him earlier that day.

Adrien frowned. The sky seemed more like a blank canvas waiting for its painter than a dark fabric riddled with stars. His heart sank as he realized the meaning of Ladybug's words, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“There are no stars,” he choked. At least, not in this sky.

But his words didn't deter her. Ladybug shook her head before pointing once more to the night’s black canvas.

“Maybe we can't see them, but they're there. Waiting for us to find them. Just imagine.”

Adrien found his hand reaching for the stars. A strange and wild hope filled his heart, bringing a smile to his lips. Maybe he couldn't see them, but they were there, just waiting to be found.

Ladybug chuckled. It made the hidden stars seem so much closer, as if he could simply find them, reach for them, and they would make his way to him.

He dared a glance at her. A slow smile crept across his lips, saying more than he ever could with words.

Somehow, she was the only one who could make him feel so invincible.

She giggled, as if his enthusiasm reached her too. “Yes, kitty. You can ask your questions. Tonight, I'll share with you any little thing you’d want to know.”

He leaned toward her, mischief now playing across his lips. “And what about me? Can I also tell you about meow-self?”

His lady bopped his nose. “As long as you don't disclose too much, I’d love to hear.”

Adrien backed away, so once again cold air separated them. The sting in his heart disappeared as she cuddled closer, her warmth the best medicine to his pain. 

“So, what are your questions?” she whispered.

He glanced at the notebook behind him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but all of them paled in comparison to what he really wanted to know. And so he let his heart lead him, because that was all he knew.

He imagined civilian-Ladybug; the unknown girl behind the mask, who lit up every room she entered. There was so much he didn't know about this stranger, and all he wanted was to find out more. 

So he decided to start with the basics.

“What are your hobbies?”

Ladybug hummed as she pieced her response together. He could almost see the wheels of her mind turn, trying to figure out a way to answer him without revealing too much about who she really was. 

“I love anything I can do with friends, like eating ice cream at Andre’s or going to a party. But other than that… well, currently I enjoy something that includes lots of drawing and hands-on crafts.”

“What do you mean?”

She winked. “That's a secret, kitty.”

Adrien nodded. He loved this glimpse into his lady’s life, but he understood how much was required of her to share these little details. What she gave him wasn't much, but it was enough to teach him a little more about the girl of his dreams.

He couldn't ask for more.

Ladybug’s gentle voice woke him from his reverie. “What about you?”

Adrien laughed. “Well… I play piano.”

“That sounds beautiful, Chaton. Maybe one day you'll play for me?”

His breath caught. “You’d really want to?”

“I'm sure I’d love it.”

For a moment, he envisioned himself sitting beside Ladybug in front of the piano. He pictured her slender fingers, light and gentle, touching the keys; unlocking the most beautiful sounds from within. He imagined the melody she would play, reaching him in places only music could.

“I'm not that surprised, though,” Ladybug mused, “you do know cats love tune-as.” 

She playfully flicked his bell, eliciting a light chuckle from his lips. 

“Who would have thought?” he teased. “The great Ladybug making jokes.”

He froze when she touched his hair, her hands playing with it as if its golden strands really were pure gold.

“I'm not so boring, kitty.”

His heart softened. “I know you're not. Nothing about you could ever bore me.”

Her voice weakened. “How are you so sure?”

The words just left his lips. “Because it teaches me more about you, milady.”

“You're such a tease,” Ladybug laughed. He was surprised when her lighthearted smile turned serious, and powerful emotion suddenly filled her voice. “But thank you.”

They settled into a short silence, before Adrien spoke again. “Tell me more, please.”

“Well, let me see,” Ladybug pondered, “my favorite subject is art.”

“Because you like to draw?”

“Well… yes and no. I guess I love how simple it is. All you need to do is think of an idea, find the necessary materials, and you can create it. It just… makes me feel like anything is possible, you know?”

He couldn’t help but glance at her. “Yeah, I do. I feel the same way when I look at…” he hesitated, taking in her expectant gaze, “my compositions.”

Adrien sighed as he remembered the compositions he kept hidden at home. Those were his treasures, secrets only Plagg knew about. There wasn't much, but every piece had its own place in his heart.

“You're a real musician, it seems,” Ladybug teased.

He shrugged. “You could say that. But I'm more into linguistics.”

She bumped her shoulder with his. “You? Who would have guessed.”

“I am that surprising.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, but a small smile still lit her features. “What other questions do you have?”

Adrien frowned. There were so many possibilities, and yet they didn't seem satisfying any more. How helpful would knowing her favorite color be if he could never see her out of her mask?

He hesitated. A question rose in the depths of his mind. It was risky, but he needed to know. 

“Can you tell me anything else about your life? Your friends? Your family?”

He regretted it the moment he said it. Adrien searched for the right words to utter as an apology, but Ladybug’s voice broke through his thoughts. 

“It's okay, kitty,” she reached for his hand. “I’ll answer your question.”

A content sigh escaped her lips as she cuddled even closer. “My friends are everything to me. They support me through so much, and every day I find myself grateful I have them. I wouldn’t have been the same without them.”

She shifted slightly.  “As for my family, I love them. They're a bit strange, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. My parents are romantics at heart, and all they want is for me to be happy. My grandparents love me just as much, even if in their own way.”

Adrien wiggled his brows. “Really? Your parents are romantics? Have they ever mentioned me?”

She groaned. “Honestly, they really love you.”

“You don't?” He asked in mock hurt.

She rolled her eyes. “You know I do, kitty, but not like that.”

“Meow-ch, milady!”

They laughed. Happiness flooded his insides like powerful light filling a dark room. He basked in its warmth, wondering how this girl managed to take all his breath away.

“Milady, I have one more question,” he said once their laughter died down.

Adrien could barely speak. His throat was all clogged up with the weight on his heart, yet he still forced the words out.

Because some part of him had to ask. Even if it hurt.

“The boy you're in love with… could you tell me more about him?”

Ladybug blinked. Her mouth slightly opened in surprise, before an uneven voice left her lips.

“W-why do you-?”

A ghost of a smile rose to his lips. “I need to know what he has that I don't.”

Time ticked by as he waited for her answer. She pulled away from him, the topic like an invisible barrier between the two. Cruel thoughts pricked his mind, but Adrien didn't pay them any attention. What he was about to hear would be a thousand times worse.

 “This boy… he’s…” She gathered her words carefully, as if she knew how hard it was for Chat.   “He’s the kindest person I know. He wouldn't hurt a fly, much less a person. If it was up to him, he would protect every human in the world from cruelty.”

Her eyes sparked with pure, unknown happiness, making Adrien's heart constrict inside his chest. If only he could bring such a smile to her face.

“He always puts the people important to him first, no matter what. He’d do anything for his family and friends, and never complains about all the harsh things he goes through. I’ve never met anyone like him. He's so pure, sometimes I wonder how someone like him could really exist.”

Adrien knew he asked to hear these words. He knew the price to pay for that clarity, but it didn't stop his heart from breaking all over again. 

He wished he could be that boy.

Maybe he should have stopped there. Maybe he should have just let it go, let the night wrap him in its darkness as if he was a shadow that didn't want to feel. Maybe asking his next question was a mistake.

But he needed this so much it hurt.

“What do you think of me?” He blurted.

Ladybug turned to him. Her face softened as she silently took him in, before a small smile rose to her face.

“Oh, kitty,” she whispered, casually pulling herself closer to him. “You're one of the most important people of my life. We’re partners, and yet so much more than that. You're my best friend and a confidante I can always come to. You're the only rock I can hold onto, whether it has to do with our superhero powers or just everyday life. You mean so much to me, and I really want you to know that.”

She reached for his spare hand, and intertwined her fingers with his. Silently, she raised their hands and placed them right above where her heart lay, its beat slow and steady.

Adrien lost himself in its sound. It was so familiar, and yet he couldn't tire of it. It was like listening to his mother singing him a lullaby on an old recording, or watching her movie for the thousandth time. Something about these moments spoke to his very soul, unlocking an unknown feeling deep inside him.

He met Ladybug's eyes, and suddenly his heart filled with a rush of warmth. She was the light of his day, the beauty of his night. She was everything he needed and everything he wanted to be.

He loved her.

Reluctantly, Chat pulled away. He brought his hand closer to his side, slightly farther from the place it lay before.

It didn't escape her attention. “Chaton?”

He couldn't look at her. Not now, when he felt so much longing fill his chest.

But there was one more question he needed to ask, even if he knew it was a bad idea. 

He needed to know if he had a chance; if maybe some part of her felt the same.

“Milady?”

She reached for him just enough for her fingers to touch his. “What is it?”

Adrien's eyes drifted from her hand to her face. She looked at him with such softness in her eyes, Adrien knew that now was the time.

“About this boy…”

She tilted her head. “Yes?”

If you had to choose between saving me and him, who would you pick?

It seemed so simple. The question lay at the tip of his tongue; the words in waiting, begging to be released. Ladybug looked at him with so much affection, he knew that now was the perfect time.

But looking at her… really looking at her, made him stop.

He couldn’t do this to her. Not to the most important girl of his life.

So he forced a smile. “Is there a chance he’s secretly me?”

He didn't know how convincing his smile was, or what her reaction would be. But in his heart he knew that he made the right decision, and that was the most important thing.

And if there was a shred of doubt before, if there was any lingering pain, his lady’s raucous laughter took it all away. 

“You’re hopeless,” She replied, playfully elbowing him in the side.

He winked. “Hopelessly in love.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, but he could still detect a hint of a smile on her face. “One day, kitty, we'll both find someone. Things will work out.”

And as a silent promise, she covered his hand with hers, letting the gentle night encase them in its calm.