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buckysgoldenheart · 3 years

Text

Angel in the Dark

Demon!August Walker x Reader

Summary: After a one-night stand, or what you thought would be one, a demon drags you to his world and forces you to grow wings like he has so you would have to stay with him, unable to permanently return to Earth.

Notes: (So this is like a one-shot that is little snippets/summary of something I might turn into a multi-chaptered fic. I’m not sure if I’m going to do that yet or if anyone would even like this idea, but if it seems a bit choppy, this is why.) I know its been an age and a half since i posted anything, but college, ya know? Also to those who have made requests, I have started all of them and they are to be posted next. I just started this fic a long time ago. I havent written anything for a while so it might actually kinda suck.

Warnings: Implied smut, kinda. Unhealthy attachment on August’s end. If I make this chaptered then there would be actual smut. I think cursing. Eventual Stockholm syndrome if continued.

Words: 1713

Angel in the Dark

You didn’t believe in fate, not really. You didn’t believe your life was predestined or anyone else’s to play with. It was yours alone, to make choices, good or bad. Only you decided when you did things and where you did them. And no one would have ever been able to convince you otherwise, until you met him.

Seeing him in that club, kissing him before you knew his name, now you couldn’t help but feel was in some way a trick, manipulated in his favor. That maybe bumping into him, quite literally, was his orchestration. Maybe whether you spoke to him or not, he had his sights set on you, and a one-night stand was never going to just get to be a one-night stand.

It was all too simple. Meeting you and not taking advantage, kissing you but following your lead, sleeping with you like you meant something to him. It didn’t add up. You could sense the kind of man he was; dominating and possessive. Too dominating and possessive to be as gentle with you as he had been. And all of it fell into a perfect line for what you now realized he wanted from you: not just sex, but more; nothing less than your life. But admitting all of that to yourself was entertaining the possibility that you were stalked like prey and any training at staying away from bad men had been a useless waste of time.

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

It was the third day, third of eight. August promised the pain would subside as the days passed, but so far he was proving to be a liar, not to your surprise. Every few hours, the wings ripped your skin wider to accommodate their size as they grew from the inside of your body pushing out. At three days, they were now the span of a couple feet, shining an opalescent white in the glare of the sun.

As you laid on your stomach, frozen in place against the mattress, wings bloodied and draped across your back with your eyes closed tight, you tried to understand the depth of the pain; how it was able to hurt the way it did. The feeling couldn’t compare to anything Earth may dare to offer. So different, so unnatural in its entirety, and indescribably excruciating. It was merciless, not letting you escape, not letting you find the will to walk without your bones threatening to crack. You could barely speak for fear fire would thrust itself up from your lungs and incinerate your throat. It was all-consuming, swallowing your body whole instead of localizing where the skin of your back had shredded open.

“Just a few more days,” August said, and you flinched at his voice. Every time he spoke it was a shock he was still there beside you, with his massive, black wings hanging over the back of the chair he sat in. Those monstrosities weren’t attached to his muscled back when you met him; nowhere in sight when he was in your bed.

August dabbed at your broken and bleeding skin with a cool cloth, eliciting little whimpers passed your chapped lips. “I know it hurts, Angel.”

“Don’t—" You forced out despite the heat in your throat, acid on your tongue, waves of nausea you knew would follow. “…C-Call me that.”

He sighed and continued to wipe the blood from your naked body. “I wish you wouldn’t say that. When the time is up, you’ll feel so much better about this, about me, and you’ll see how beautiful they are. You’re already so gorgeous, the wings will only add to your beauty.”

“I di-didn’t want--

“Don’t talk, Angel,” he said. “I know how you’re feeling about this right now, but humans are not allowed to live in this world. I had to do this so you can stay.”

You screamed as the wings tore your skin open a few more centimeters, and August quickly scooted his chair closer to brush the hair from your face.

He softly shushed you the way one might soothe a kitten, before leaning down and placing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “It’s ok. I’m not going to leave your side.”

You would have slapped at him, pushed him away with all your might if you had the strength, but your lungs were tightening, body burning as if it had been licked by the sun. You were dying, slowly morphing into a horrid creature from fantasies, leaving behind any trace of humanity. In your veins you could feel something coursing and altering your DNA. You knew you still looked like you, for the most part, but you weren’t you, not anymore. All because you met a man who got attached and wouldn’t let you go. All because he couldn’t remain in your world and decided with certainty that if he couldn’t be in yours, he would drag you to his. A place some believed in and some didn’t, a place no one could prove the existence of, now your iron cage.

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

It was five more nights of torture before you felt like you could really breathe again, and even then, the oxygen was just as foreign as the pain you had trudged through, and you found little comfort in it fully filling your lungs.

“You’re awake.”

His smooth voice drew your eyes away from the scenery out the bedroom window; the first glimpse of true, heavenly beauty you’d seen since he brought you here. But you weren’t convinced it wasn’t an illusion crafted by his devilish fingers for your comfort. Much like his own beauty, a trick tempting you to call off your desire to leave this world and go home. You tried your best to ignore how perfect he looked; the curls of his hair, the scruff of his jaw, the black wings you first saw the night you met him when they had suddenly appeared only after you’d slept together.

“And you’re standing already. I hoped to come help you, but you’re clearly much stronger than I was after I had to grow my own wings.”

Your eyes flashed in anger before your tore them away from his, back to the rolling hills overlapping one another outside your window. The breeze rustling your hair, the chirp of the birds, the glisten of the sun off the small lake dotted in the landscape, distracted you from August’s approach. You stilled at his breath hitting the back of your neck, but when he slipped his rough fingers through the layers of your shimmering feathers you couldn’t contain the shiver that shot through your body. His own black ones ruffled when his skin touched his creation.

“So beautiful,” he whispered.

“I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

August let out a puff of air, a weak laugh. “My work? Angel, this was all you. I knew they would be beautiful if they were going to be a part of you, but you really outdid yourself.”

Twisting your body fast, you met him chest to chest, your eyes burning with a heat to match the devil. “I outdid myself? You forced this on me. You injected me with that—that poison without my permission.”

“And you survived. Not many can say the same. You’ve come out stronger.” Fingers trailed through your feathers again and you ignored the heat it sent to your core.

“I’ve come out of this wanting to kill you more than I did before,” You said, shifting the wing back and away from his reach.

Without a moment to pass, August gently grasped your chin between his thumb and index finger as his gaze landed on your lips. “That will fade with time,” he whispered, then inched his face closer. You shoved him away just before his lips could meet yours, and August stumbled back with a chuckle. “Certainly stronger.”

“I’m not going to let you kiss me,” you snapped.

“Not today, it would seem.”

“Not ever again!” Somehow the words felt wrong, each one more sour than the last. Wrong, as if your lips called to his and a portion of your mind was so disappointed at the fight you were going to force it through by trying to keep yourself away from him. But it was a small portion, and the rest of you was much stronger.

“We will see, Angel,” He crossed his arms. “You and I have eternity. One day you will wake up and realize I am all you have, I am all you want, and this memory will be lost. All you will know is me and my touch and our world.”

As he spoke, his eyes held a gentle sincerity that you wished wasn’t there. You wished the blue of them wasn’t so calm and casual and certain of the way he was feeling. Shaking your head, you matched his stance. “You’re a monster,” you said. “You really are, and here I thought I’d seen the worst of monsters, but clearly not.”

August slowly stepped back into your space again, catching you off guard with a flush to your cheeks as he loomed over you. But you kept his stare, even with your back against the wall, wings spread against the stone. “You may breathe your sweet words all you’d like, Angel, but it changes nothing,” He said, running a knuckle down your cheek. “If I am a monster, I am your monster, and I’m not going anywhere.” Smiling, his eyes glanced at your lips again. “Luckily for me…neither are you.”

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Note

Not sure if this counts as a Drabble I’m not really familiar with it sorry! So you can ignore if you want but maybe you can do a list of BTS and the OC’s favorite kinks

[A/N: this took a very long time coming, mostly because it was a lengthy job. Sorry for the wait nonnie, I hope it’s worth it 🥴😉]

Okay! I sort of assembled this as a mix of short headcanons (there are six to eight each — also I got carried away with Jk, he’s got eleven but some are like, are more lowkey). They’re divided couple by couple and I’ve tried to be as realistic as possible, which means that some couples have some kinks in common, especially since I stayed on more well-known kinks and fetishes that represent each couple’s go-to. I do think they explore less popular kinks other than the ones I listed, however they might not go there that often.

You’ll be seeing some of these soon ;) [ILLICIT AFFAIRS WON I AM CRYING]

Uhm. Obviously there’s a lot of stuff I have to include in the trigger warnings, so bear with me.

This is obviously 18+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: discipline (brat taming, sub training), impact play (spankings, paddle, flogger, riding crop; both on ass and breasts), marking, dirty talking, choking, masturbation (male and female receiving; mututal), squirting, several fetishes (uniform, shoes, feet, voice), cock worship, breast worship, powerplay (DDLG, daddy kink; domination; mommy kink; Primal/predator-prey dynamics, pet play), orgasm control and deprivation, role play, food play, cum play/cum eating, pain kink, sensation play, temperature play, edging and overstimulation, phone sex, cyber sex, bondage, torture play/forced masturbation, tickling, anal play (buttplugs, strap on, rimming, penetration), degradation kink, corruption kink, voyeurism and exhibitionism, outdoor sex, cockwarming, oral sex (male and female receiving; facefucking male receiving; mutual), sex toys (nipple clamps, dildo, vibrator)

Not exactly kinks, more like attitudes: experimentalism, intimacy, sapiosexuality

Check out my masterlist here

Enjoy 💜✨

Namjoon and Vixen

Daddy kink; brat taming

I think it’s sort of a given, but it also needs to be included. Vixen’s first relationship was when she had just turned nineteen, with a man quite older than her. They were together for a couple years and he significantly shaped her needs in terms of intimacy and sex. Her parenting figures were really weak and she grew up with a nanny who taught her her second language, French. Namjoon — being always a very responsible very nurturing figure within the group, and somehow having the role of a mediator — is used to stubborn, hot-headed people and would probably be a bit bored with someone incapable of giving him a bit of attitude. This said, it comes quite natural that Vixen (although she is a very smart, very elegant young lady) looks for guidance in her partner, and after the responsibilities that come with her career, she looks for someone who can take decisions for her and even control her private life a little, like check that she eats and what she eats, or pick what she’s going to wear for the day. On the other hand, Namjoon likes being taken care of in other ways, namely cuddles and homecooked meals, which Vixen offers profusely. Her childlike, unconditional affection is exactly what makes Namjoon baby her, and such behaviour on his behalf encourages her to rely on him even more, letting him pamper her and spoil her. And in terms of bratting... Well, Vixen likes seeing him lose his cool — because a sick part of her (she knows it’s sick) gets horny seeing Namjoon angry. And Namjoon in returns gets even more cool and composed the more she gets feisty. He calls the shot, may she like it or not. The point is that with some cuddles, soft words (and a few good spanks) he always manages to tame her.

Spanking

Vixen likes getting spanked. And Namjoon is obsessed with her ass. He is an ass and thighs man. Fight me on this one. Nothing turns him on more than seeing her flesh quiver after the impact of a good spank. Vixen likes it simply because it condenses three of her favourite things, discipline, punishments and pain kink. Spanks are delivered both as a reward and as a punishment, and Namjoon knows how to make a distinction between the two cases, although he much prefers delivering them as a reward, since he hasn’t got much of a pain kink, and painful activities are a soft limit for him, both in terms of giving and receiving. He approves that kind of pain that is simply aimed at enhancing pleasure. Vixen really likes spanks delivered with the bare palm of a hand, since those are the one that she perceives as the most “educational”; however she also likes the paddle, the hairbrush and other more tricky devices (that you will discover soon *wink*).

Marking

Namjoon is crazy for marking Vixen. He is very jealous of her and their relationship staying on the low means that he can’t actually claim her publicly. They both try to protect their relationship for as long as possible, and I can quite see him deciding to keep it private until he’s been married to her for a while. But he’s gonna mark his baby, especially in spots that are only his and hers to see. His absolutely favourite spot would be her hip tattoo, of course, where he always places the first hickey of the night; next her inner thighs, her crotch and her breasts (lovely tiny cherries, he loves them the most). When she allows him, he also leaves hickeys on her neck and chest. Obviously her butt too. He also likes biting, especially her ass (until he leaves bruises and/or actual indentations) and her inner thighs — the softer parts. Vixen also marks him when he’s not on a schedule, when they’re on vacation and they can let loose a little. He especially likes it when she leaves scratches on his back and shoulders, but he also enjoys hickeys on his chest and thighs when she’s on her way to giving him head.

Sapiosexualilty; dirty talking

We all know these two have filthy tongues. They’re sapiosexuals, so they’re turned on by mind games, smart use of language, verbal sparring etcetera. They’re both readers and intellectuals, which means they enjoy a polished, often obscure use of language. They’re the most likely to send each other texts (or even emails) where they simply wax poetic about fucking each other. They can literally send a text at nine am about some spicy play they intend to do later that night, let excitement build all day long and — as soon as they get home — they wait and see who’s the one that surrenders (spoiler: usually Joon because Vixen is a brat and brats are tough eggs to crack). In bed, Vixen loves listening to Namjoon’s voice, no matter if he’s talking about how good it feels to be inside her or if he makes romantic love declarations in midst of a rowdy fuck. Also they might argue while they have sex or pick stupid fights just to release some tension (totally the type to start a discussion as they choose the mirror for the bathroom, Vixen picking round while Namjoon picks rectangular, embarrassing the shopping assistant as they get into hard bickering heavy with sexual tension).

Choking

This is a new one, to both of them. Vixen had never toyed with it before, since she risked drowning when she was a child so she’s not a fan of anything that involves breath control. Still, she didn’t imagine she could be turned on by choking her partner. The first time Namjoon grabs her wrist and brings her hand to his neck she freaks out a little, but then she gets a grip (haha) and realises that seeing him that fucked out, and hearing him moan like that is something most definitely turning her on. Namjoon has a sensitive neck and chest, so having Vixen touching him there makes his soul leave his body; furthermore, the level of trust required leads us right onto the next kink.

Intimacy

I realise this is not exactly a kink, however it is a necessary condition for things to get sexy between these two. Namjoon and Vixen need special closeness for things to work out. Talking, flirting, but also sharing physical closeness and affection, occupying the same mental space. They don’t need to be making love for things to be very emotional. Even the angriest, rowdiest of fuckings to them is actually a very fond way of saying ‘I love you’. I think that out all the kinks this is the most difficult to explain. I suppose this is what makes them incredibly talented even at good ol’ plain vanilla.

Mutual Masturbation

I think these two just do that a lot. They’re extremely comfortable with having the other watch as they touches themselves. I think it started with Vixen being her shameless, teasing, kinky self and Namjoon being incapable of holding back, and then it naturally evolved into both him and her openly touching themselves for the other to see. I think they learn by watching so observing the other and seeing how they do it is how they master their technique.

Lingerie and shoe fetish

Namjoon is obsessed with Vixen’s sexiness, how she carries herself, how much charisma and self confidence she can muster when she is almost naked. I’ve always seen Namjoon extremely attracted to Vixen’s body and seeing it there, with the bare necessities covered by expensive and lush lace and silk, or even in funny cotton drawers with innocent prints is a ticket to Nirvana for Namjoon. I bet you can imagine Vixen lounging on the bed, provocatoriously clad in black lace as she reads a book, and Namjoon entering the room, ready to pounce on her with predatorial intents.

Jin and Angel

Cockworship

We all know that Jin comes from several vanilla experiences, during which he always kept his basest instincts at bay. Once Angel gives him the green light, he’s not letting go. Angel loves celebrating his virility in all ways possible, showing how much she appreciates a part of him that he has felt ashamed of, in some ways. And Jin gets extremely turned on by the simple view of Angel kneeling before him, looking at him as he touches himself, begging to touch and/or kiss his cock. He gets wild with it, especially if you sum that up with Jin being especially interested in discipline. Watching Angel worship his cock with her hands, mouth, tits gives him that sense of power and authority that enhances his dominance and turns him into a cocky, power-hungry beast, ready to do anything to quench his thirst, fulfill his desires and almost entirely ignore Angel’s needs — don’t worry, she actually gets off to Jin getting what he wants on whichever terms he deems necessary.

Power play

Jin likes having power. Being more powerful than Angel is one of the mental tricks he uses to keep himself from going vanilla. The powerful position is what allows him to call the shots, choose what to do and actually claim what he wants and needs. Watching Angel kneel in front of him, with her eyes low until he calls for her attention is one of his biggest turn-ons. And Angel is way more than okay with this: watching Jin take control and knowing that she is pleasing him, that any activity they’re getting into is bound to make Jin loud and messy and fucked out, is the strongest aphrodisiac. When in a vanilla mindset, Jin can’t quite understand (yet) what pushes Angel into pleasing him and how much his pleasure means to her, as they’re still at the beginning of their sexplorations. The more they get familiar with each other’s roles and needs, the more Jin finds pleasure in ruling over Angel and watch her stare at him with her big, beautiful, hungry eyes.

Orgasm control/deprivation

Jin’s need for power manifests in different ways. The fact that Jin comes from several years of vanilla and self control, and Angel has gotten used to their calmer approach to intimacy and sex, makes them both quite good at sexual deprivation. He can easily deprive her for weeks, or deprive himself: when he’s depriving her, his favourite activity is having her kneel on the floor, naked and touch himself until he cums on her breasts; when he’s depriving himself he likes eating her out for at least two or three rounds, until she’s begging for him to fuck her, completely desperate and on the verge of tears when he denies her. Regardless of who is being deprived, when she gets whiny and emotional, he always makes sure to reassure her and remind her when the period of deprivation is going to end, telling her what he plans to do to her as soon as he allows himself to. About orgasm control — Angel needs training. And a very stern one at that. She is not used at that level of control, mostly because she’s used to a very loving, very attentive Seokjin who wants her pleased and pampered all the time. Orgasm control is most definitely the thing she hates the most out of all her training; the only factor keeping her from truly hating it is how Jin turns soft once she manages to complete a task successfully, praising her and letting her have more control — either turning the scene into vanilla lovemaking or letting her turn the tables and ride him until she’s happy and sated.

Role play

Jin sometimes needs help getting into an aggressive, authoritative mood. Luckily, he is a great actor and he know exactly how to get into character. He would often assume a role out of the blue, letting Angel choose what position to occupy — although his all time favourite is teacher-student. It allows him to get into the strictest, harshest forms of impact play, having lots of fun watching sweat, drool and cum stain Angel's uniform, or watching her breasts burst out of her schoolgirl blouse. On a minor note he loves using a paddle or a riding crop on Angel, making her bend over the edge of the bed and flipping her skirt up, spanking her until she's begging, only to sit on the bed and put her head between his legs, tugging at her pigtails (but never letting himself go too deep — he has no interest in seeing Angel gag on him, it's his own hard limit before being hers). Other types of roleplay he likes are doctor-nurse or doctor-patient, landlord-maid, pilot-hostess and obviously chef and waitress, which leads us right to next prompt.

Food play

Angel loves Jin's cooking. She loves watching his wide shoulders in front of the stove, she loves hearing him hum when he tastes something good, she loves him leaning over the table and offering her some food from his fork. She especially likes seeing him so passionate and dedicated, and she loves showing enthusiasm for a hobby that is so dear to him and on which he puts so much effort. Food play is mostly a way to set the tone for passionate, steamy lovemaking, where he worships every inch of Angel's body with his lips. Angel has developed an involuntary reaction to seeing his special cookbook on the small prop by the stove. Wetness coats her thigh as soon as she sees his messy handwriting on the page, signaling that he is indeed preparing a sauce or cream for kinky play. He really likes playing with frozen fruit and ice cream or watching Angel squirm as chocolate sauce tickles her while dribbling down her breasts. He is wicked. And also awfully gluttonous. Angel spoils him and is spoiled with this specific kink of theirs. It was the first kink they explored even when their relationship was still vanilla.

Pain kink

Not much explaining to do. Jin goes absolutely wild with riding crops and paddles. There’s nothing more exciting than watching Angel push her chest towards him, trying to convince him to remove her nipple clamps as she writhing underneath him.

Cum play

There’s nothing more exciting for Jin than watching his cum stain Angel’s breasts, or pulling out at the very last second to cum on her belly. Another thing he loves is to jerk off and make Angel wait with her mouth open, ready to welcome the head of his cock as he finally reaches his climax and spills inside her, telling her not to swallow and open her mouth to show him how much she loves the result of his pleasure before closing her mouth and swallowing, and showing that she took every single droplet of it.

Yoongi and Kitten

Sensation play

Kitten is a bad bitch. She gets off at having Yoongi moaning, squirming, whimpering and groaning underneath her. And Yoongi is so sensitive. It would be a shame not to toy with that. She likes giving him head and edging him, putting him through the absolute worst. He gets weak whenever Kitten blindfolds him, pours warm massage oil on him and procedes with the most relaxing touches and caresses. He gets whiny and desperate whenever she chooses to bring ice cubes to the bedroom and he gets absolutely wild whenever her bullet vibrator is aimed at him instead of her. Kitten is a menace — and maybe a bit of a sadist — but it always feels so sweet once she finally offers him release. Yoongi might consider it torture, but in the end he really, really loves that.

Choking kink

There’s not much difference: choking... being choked... both are okay with giving and receiving. Kitten has a sensitive neck and chest, which means any action there is a huge turn on. Her sensitivity there means she usually covers her upper torso, since it being even slightly exposed makes her feel vulnerable; plus she often needs to hide hickeys and bruises anyway.

Oral fixation; face fucking

Kitten loves giving blowjob, Yoongi loves placing his mouth anywhere on Kitten, especially on her lips, her chest and between her legs. Yoongi has given hints about... Uhm... Oral skills. I think he'd be glad to spend hours between Kitten's legs, and since she wasn't entirely confident with receiving oral sex (her ex was a prick), he is more than happy to take things slow and help her rebuild enough confidence to literally have her climb him while he's laying on the bed, and unashamedly sit on his face and ride it.

Voice fetish

When Kitten and Yoongi met, both were attracted by each other’s voice and throughout courtship and dating they both loved listening to the other talk. Yoongi knows his voice is attractive, and he is incredibly attuned to Kitten’s slightly deep, very soft and quiet voice. She has a velvety timbre that is so relaxing and exciting at the same time. He could get wild at her whispering in his ear, feeling her lips graze against the shell of his ear. However, Kitten would be equally weak if he did that to her.

Phone sex

Since they both enjoy listening to each other’s voice, and since Yoongi travels a lot, they are really into phone sex when they’re too far apart, or when Yoongi needs to stay at the dorms or if they feel extremely needy in the middle of the day. Even when he’s on tour, they prefer phone sex to kinky video calls.

Breast worship

This kink, paired up with Yoongi’s oral fixation, Kitten’s sensitive chest, and cumplay just explains how much exploring there is toward this direction. There are no limits: sensation play with ice cubes or warm massage oil, wax play, food play, boob jobs, a lot of nipple teasing… Kitten is open to experimenting and Yoongi is more than aware of what could feel nice and what would be utter torture. And he wants to try it all.

Cumplay and Cum eating

Yoongi is not afraid of things getting messy. He likes having Kitten’s juices all over his face, licking them off his lips and fingers: he doesn’t need her to taste like watermelon or smell like rainbows and unicorns. He wants a woman, real and messy. He loves the salty taste on his tongue, and he can tell when she’s close to her period for how the taste of her changes. Plus, he loves cumming on her breasts, especially if his semen accidentally marks her pretty, lacy bras.

Hoseok and Giggles

Handjobs; squirting

Hoseok’s hands are a blessing. But his fingers are a gift of the devil. They were made to sin and torture. Giggles is very sensitive on her own account. That paired up with Hoseok’s skills makes for wild nights of soaked sheets — luckily enough they buy an impermeable blanket pretty much at the beginning of their relationship.

Impact play; flogger

Not only Hoseok’s hands are a blessing, but those wrists are stretchable. Fluent. They’re perfect for cracking a whip. Or a flogger — he is a bit afraid of using a whip, and it takes a lot of space… However, floggers? He smiles wickedly whenever Giggles gets close to him on Thursday or Friday and casually sits on his lap, hooks an arm behind his neck and leans in close. “I don’t have my Monday shift… Do you think we could… Play with the flogger?” She asks, a bit insecure. He usually plans scenes for Saturday night, so he can have all the aftercare equipment ready and he can spend all Sunday taking care of Giggles. If he can comply to her request, he hugs her close to him and reassures her as they start planning more details.

Bondage

By now it is canon that these two have taken lessons, that they have personalised ropes that Giggles had to prepare personally. Although she’s more precise and diligent in knots, Hoseok is also very attentive and prepared; they often discuss bondage scenes, even over dinner, talking about how the scene will play out, which types of knots to use, how to secure the rope, et cetera.

Experimenting

As I said, they are both absolutely okay discussing stuff they want to try. It isn’t uncommon for them to be watching a movie and suddenly something appears — even something as banal as a clothespin or a makeup brush — and suddenly one of them is going: “We could use that in bed”. It isn’t uncommon for them to discuss kinky stuff during the week, planning scenes over dinner, or while they’re chilling, or whatever.

Torture play; Overstimulation; tickling

Hoseok likes seeing Giggles writhing and tossing underneath him. He likes torturing her with overstimulation, giving her orgasms back to back or making her squirt so many times that she passes out — it only happened twice and he made sure she drank almost two litres of water afterwards to make sure she didn’t get dehydrated. He also loves her laugh and her nickname comes from the lovely, happy sounds she makes when he coaxes a laugh from her. He loves tickling her to tears, her silvery voice erupting in chuckles that fill his heart with joy.

Shifting positions; multiple rounds

Hoseok has stamina and flexibility. He can go for three rounds without even blinking. He’d manoeuvre Giggles in and out of positions, directing her, helping her put her body in place, following her movements as she shifts. She’s not always happy with all the moving around, especially when she finds a good position and Hoseok decides he wants to change it; however, he can be extremely convincing and he happens to remember all her favourites, putting them in a smooth, easy sequence whenever he wants to reward her — which is at least twice a month because Giggles is the most perfect little bubble.

Jimin and Princess

Exhibitionism

Jimin lives to be watched. His mannerism and elegance make him a performer, even in the plainest tasks. When Princess is watching him, he only exists for her eyes and her eyes only. Nothing gratifies him more than the loving, passionate glances she throws at him when with their friends, or the obscured and raptured ones when she’s dominating him, or the desperate, imploring ones when it’s his turn to call the shots.

Pet play

Jimin is a huge switch. He likes following his whims and is overall a brat, who just does whatever he likes. So, when Princess comes out of the bathroom before bedtime and finds him lounging on the bed naked with a pair of cat ears, his collar and her riding crop waiting on her bedside table, she knows exactly the kind of treatment he’s trying to get. Nevertheless, when in that mood he turns into the most obedient little kitty, so vulnerable and frail that Princess knows she shall treat him with velvet gloves (haha). Literally.

Edging and overstimulation

Princess likes it when Jimin gets messy and whiny and loud. She likes listening to him whimpering and whining while she uses her vibrator on him and makes him cry. It makes her feel powerful. It also makes her ten times softer afterwards and she just loves it when he hits subspace so bad he starts calling her mommy and begging for her to make him cum.

Anal play

Both Princess and Jimin are okay with giving and receiving. Princess is especially in love with double penetration. Jimin is very okay with rimming and putt plugs.

Spanking

Jimin has never really had the courage to try getting spanked before. He had his first experience with Princess, directing her thought the scene. He had learnt basic directions in case he ever needed to teach his partner, but he never thought it would actually happen. From there he and Princess get more comfortable with spankings and get even more involved in impact play, still spankings stay Jimin’s favourite.

Degradation

When in dom mode, Jimin can be vitriolic in his remarks, praising Princess with the dirtiest taunts. Some name calling happens, but Jimin never lets that get too deep. He usually opts for a patronising behaviour that questions Princess’ ability to live without him, and usually avoids anything outright insulting.

Breast worship

Jimin loves Princess’ chest. He likes touching her breasts, more than anything else, but this doesn’t mean he won’t slap them, suck them and fuck them every now and then.

[Sorry if I didn’t write much, honestly I’m still figuring these two out. I think it has a lot to do with Jimin being just so... mercurial. I can’t find another word. He is the least “steady” character in my head. I don’t know. I’ve always had problems with understanding Libras. He’s just so moody and so... It’s frustrating. I just have so many vibes coming from him it’s too much.]

Taehyung and Lace

Voyeurism; exhibitionism

While Jimin lives to be watched, Taehyung is all about the art of watching. Taehyung needs to watch Lace. It doesn’t matter if she’s putting on her lipstick or washing the dishes or brushing her teeth or sucking his cock. He will study her like a painting hung in a museum until he can close his eyes and imagine her exist like a hologram in his head. He loves watching her during sex and he indirectly loves being watched by her too. Lace has never felt so beautiful.

Outdoor sex

I think they wouldn’t mind trying outdoor sex: the lack of available locations in Seoul initially discourages them, but as they start going on holidays together, geographic remoteness and private outdoor spaces start becoming characteristics these two actually look for in their ideal resort. Yes, they’re the type to fuck against a tree in the woods — or maybe on the beach, under the stars (with Lace taking the utmost care in making sure nothing goes wrong in terms of safety both to their healths and Taehyung’s career).

Cyber sex

With Taehyung travelling because of his job, it isn’t uncommon for him and Lace to become cyber sex experts. Not only he has videos of her safely stored away in a memory card he has basically stitched to his skin — he is hyperaware of it and they are extremely careful of anything that could possibly link the video to the two of them — but he's more than willing to plan videocalls where they can get carried away in front of the camera for the other's viewing pleasure.

Cockwarming

There’s nothing more relaxing and intimate to Taehyung and Lace than being physically connected after sex. After being so close, so together even for a rough, brief quickie, it is traumatic for them to part too suddenly, so usually Taehyung stays inside her for at least a bunch of minutes.

Oral fixation

Both Taehyung and Lace like putting their mouth on the other. Lace could live with Taehyung’s cock in her mouth, while he especially loves to bite her flesh, pretty much anywhere, or stare at her face while he suckles her breasts like a little boy. He could literally fall asleep while they’re facing each other, on their sides, suckling at her nipple while she handcombs his hair, the pressure slowly decreasing until he lets go completely, sound asleep.

Foot fetish

Both Taehyung and Lace are new to this and they're more than willing to explore. Expect Taehyung to grow increasingly addicted to them playing footsie underneath the dinner table, but also to get exceedingly turned on by having Lace's feet laying on his lap or crotch.

Squirting

Taehyung knows exactly how to touch Lace, massaging her after a long day, relaxing her whole body before his fingers end up inside her. His strong, sinewy fingers seem to be programmed to please her. Nevertheless, he is not prone to use this as a form of torture; he'd much rather use it to amplify Lace's sensitivity and help her reach further states of pleasure.

Anal play

I think Taehyung aims at possessing every inch of Lace's body, and of course he wouldn't mind one bit to rim, finger or fuck her ass. He'd be absolutely fine with buttplugs and double penetration. And don't think he would mind wearing a butt plug himself — I think he's the most likely to wear a tail-buttplug, probably. I also think he is by far the most comfortable with the idea of getting pegged: he knows his power and he knows it could never be undermined by Lace fucking him with her strap on.

Jungkook and Candy

Predator play

May it be playful or absolutely ruthless, Jeongguk loves hunting Candy inside his apartment. He loves playing hide and seek, he loves the rush he feels when he spots a hint, and he loves even more the adrenaline coursing through his body when he chases her down the corridor and picks her up, throwing her body over his shoulder — oh, and most of all he loves ripping her clothes off and taking her whenever he manages to catch her.

Corruption kink

Jeongguk’s predatory instincts get even louder when Candy is acting innocent, being her happy, playful, bubbly self. Go figure when she’s sleeping and her face is so soft and young and she has a slight pout and squishable cheeks: Jeongguk can feel his blood flood to all the right places, arousal and adrenaline mixing up, while his brain tries to stay calm, wake her up gently and ask for her consent.

Marking

It’s not that big of a thing to him, he might leave hickeys down Candy’s chest, but that’s mostly it. He’s shy and he’s not all that comfortable with other people seeing them. However, I decided to place this kink right here because bunny wants to be marked. He loves indentations and scratches coming from Candy’s medium-short nails. His all time favourite are scratches down his back, and small crescents on his shoulders and ass. Also lowkey scratches down his abs and thighs. He might go crazy the moment he’s not promoting or shooting and he can finally let Candy cover his chest in hickeys.

Degradation

When absolutely fucked out, Jeongguk starts rambling the most saccharine, degrading sentences to Candy. He has a rich collection of dirty pet names, sometimes with a patronising or humiliating undertone. He doesn’t do it coherently, he’s just not thinking and it feels that good. Of course he always apologises afterwards, but Candy has no shame whatsoever. He might apologise for calling her his fuckdoll, but she’s not ashamed of it, that’s exactly what she is. Hearing him speak those nasty words always gets her going since it shows how fucked out she’s getting him.

Praise

Jeongguk wants to be praised. His ego bursts when Candy praises him, openly or not. Candy whining while he hits the spot is one of the strongest praises she can offer him. He direly needs to be praised when in sub mode, matching the encouraging words with soothing touches and loving glances.

Mommy kink

Yes. They’re exploring a few things after it turned out Joengguk wanted to try. Apparently he’s enjoying way more than he expected. Especially when he’s playing chase with Candy and she grows tired, stomps her foot to the floor and gets her harsh tone on. He starts obeying in seconds. Overall a well.behaved baby, if a little lively and energetic.

Breast worship

Another great fan of boobs. He really loves fucking Candy’s tits, especially while she’s laying down and he’s sitting on top of her, straddling her ribs. His obsession worsens once she gets a nipple piercing: it becomes his favourite place to put his hand on before sleep.

Oral sex

Candy is the absolute grandmaster of blowjobs. She’s the non plus ultra. Blowjobs become Jeongguk’s favourite reward, especially when paired up with her cunt grinding against his face. He could die a happy man like that. After helping Candy get rid of her insecurities about being eaten out, Jeongguk decides he’d do that at least three times a week, almost planning a schedule to make sure he didn’t skip a day. He lowkey asks Yoongi for tips, trying to find new positions to test Candy’s resistance.

Cockwarming

Jeongguk gets very emotionally vulnerable after sex. He needs to talk about his insecurities and doubts, since he always feels so connected to Candy right in the aftermath. At the beginning, cockwarming is actually a consequence of him not realising he hasn’t pulled out as he rambles about everything that is going on inside his mind; however, as he gets used to that, he begins to do it willingly, feeling too naked and cold without staying inside her.

Multiple rounds

Jeongguk has a very high stamina. He can last two to three rounds — four if he’s going wild —, then go for some food, some water and/or a nap and be ready for more in a few hours. Candy is absolutely okay with it: he’s usually the one moving her like a puppet, so even if she’s exhausted, she doesn’t need to worry, he’ll do all the work.

Rough/animalistic sex

Jeongguk is not exceedingly into powerplay: any kind of power imbalance comes naturally, without any kind of planning or negotiating and what the others express in more niche activities, they simply express in very rough, very intense fucking. Especially when Jeongguk has just come home from the gym. Rather than using fancy toys or sophisticated practices, they much rather jump each other bones and fuck like rabbits (haha).

#bts smut #bts headcanons #bts drabbles #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts blog #namjoon x vixen #seokjin x angel #yoongi x kitten #hoseok x giggles #jimin x princess #taehyung x lace #jungkook x candy

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justcourttee · 4 years

Note

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

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

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

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

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

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

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

Permanent Tag List:

@ash-amg @rebecarojas07 @heaven428 @long-lost-peace @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @moongoddesskiana @nach0ava @iamablinkmarvelarmy @seraphkitty @clumsy-owl-4178 @pawsitivelymiraculous @mialuvscats @leagrey @smolplantmum @animegirlweeb

#maribat #chloe x roy #miraculous ladybug

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

What’s in a Name?

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Pairing: Michael!Dean x reader, Dean x reader

WC: 2,135

Summary: Weeks after Michael disappeared with Dean as his vessel, you decide to take some time away from the bunker. Nothing could have prepared you for the talk you have (or the tearful goodbye) when he pays you an unexpected visit.

Square Filled: Midnight Snack

Warnings: Season 14 spoilers if you haven’t seen it. Some angst. Sort of sappy fluff. Revelation of feelings and implied mutual pining. Minor mentions of injuries. Kind of a corny, abrupt ending. Also this gif by @teamfreewillbettertogether (I mean LOOK AT HIM.)

A/N: This is my first submission for #spndeanbingo challenge round 1 hosted by @spndeanbingo Inspired by this 14x01 gif and the end dialogue of 14x09. (I do not claim to own the dialogue from those episodes, I just paraphrased for this fic.) This was supposed to be a drabble but it got away from me. lol

You had just finished a case up north-- nothing big, just a few werewolves preying on teenagers who were exploring the woods on the outskirts of town at night for “something to do.” You had tracked down the last of the pack just in time to save a young girl from becoming an unfortunate midnight snack. After driving her home and observing a tear-filled reunion with her parents, you returned to the motel you’d been staying at.

You were exhausted, covered head to toe in cuts and bruises from the hunt, and you knew you needed some rest. But sleep didn’t come easily these days and, when it did, you often found yourself dreaming of Dean. It kept you up at night knowing he was out there somewhere locked away under Michael’s control, and dreaming about him only seemed to make you miss him more.

It was late, but you decided to venture to the gas station up the street to grab a midnight snack of your own, hoping the cool evening air and a little food might help ease your mind. After cleaning up a little, you slipped out of your room and back into the night.

It had been weeks and there'd still been no sign of Dean or Michael. Sam had been working tirelessly trying to find him, but so far he still hadn’t had any leads. In an effort to help with the search, you packed a bag and set out to connect with some of your old contacts.

...At least that’s what you told Sam.

Truthfully, you had decided to leave because you needed a break from it all. The bunker had begun to feel crowded with all of the new inhabitants from Apocalypse World. Sam, Mary, Cas, and Jack checked on you at all hours of the day because they all seemed to know about the feelings you harbored for Dean. You appreciated their concern, but the lack of alone time and space left you feeling suffocated and on edge.

On top of it all, the bunker somehow also felt eerily empty without your favorite green eyed hunter. Reminders and memories of him seemed to haunt every inch of the place. With how overwhelming everything had become, it was liberating to work a case or two while you took some time to grieve and process everything in peace.

After buying a sandwich, a six pack, and a mini pie, you thanked the cashier and began the short trek back to your motel. Still lost in thought, you had taken a shortcut down an alley when a noise from behind stopped you in your tracks. It was subtle and if you hadn’t recognized it immediately, it might’ve gone unnoticed-- drowned out by the bustle of cars, sirens, and drunken bar-goers still enjoying what was left of their night.

The familiar rustle of angel wings.

Realizing you’d left your angel blade in the duffel bag beside your bed, you tried to remain calm. Cas had no way of knowing where you were and you knew the few angels left in existence were doing all they could to keep heaven running. Grappling with the fear and hope you could feel rising in your chest, you wracked your brain for any other possible explanation for who could be behind you. But even before he spoke, you knew it was him.

“Hello Y/N.”

It wasn’t his voice-- not really. Even so, the sound was oddly comforting after so many weeks without it. If you’d kept your back to him, you might’ve been able to let yourself pretend it really was him. That he had managed to break free from the archangel somehow and track you down.

But it was the way he said your name that let you know who it really was. His voice was hollow. Almost formal.

One thing you’d always loved about Dean--whether he was angry or worried or teasing--was the way he said your name. There was always so much emotion behind it. Always a trace of the unconditional love he gave to everyone he cared about. When he spoke your name, there was always a deeper implication: no matter what he was feeling or what you had done, you knew he would always protect you and have your back. There was never a need for him to say those things outright, because somehow you’d always understood.

But this wasn’t him and those weren’t the feelings you had when your name rolled off of his tongue. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned to face the man behind you.

“Michael.”

The corner of his mouth tilted into a smirk. He wore a gray three piece suit, a long coat, and a newsboy style cap. His head was slightly bowed, casting a dark shadow over his eyes. Instead of the relaxed, bow-legged stance you were accustomed to, his posture was stiff and typical of the angels you’d grown familiar with over the years.

“It’s nice to be able to skip the introductions.”

He raised his head and the motion seemed almost robotic. His jade eyes briefly flashed a bright electric blue and the longer you looked at his emotionless face, the more unsettled you began to feel. Everything about him seemed detached and unnatural-- a stark contrast to the man you knew.

“What do you want?”

“What do I want? It’s a little...ironic.” His lips stretched into a wry grin, but there was still an emptiness behind it. “That’s what I’ve been traveling all around this world asking people. ‘What do you want?’ Their answers are always the same: Peace. Power. Revenge. Love.”

You exhaled upon hearing the final word--recalling the countless number of fantasies you’d had about Dean confessing something similar to you.

“They say the things they think I expect to hear. Give answers they hope will ensure their survival. It’s all so very...weak. Pathetic. Human. But I will admit free will does keep things marginally interesting...how these ‘wants’ seem to motivate you. To give you a cause to fight for.”

You stood motionless, soaking in every bit of the speech he was delivering. The way he spoke was flat and unhurried. You reminded yourself over and over that it wasn’t him, but as his voice washed over you...the hold he had on you was undeniable.

He took a few steps forward, hands behind his back as he began circling you like a predator stalking its prey.

“He’s still in here, you know.” He tapped a finger on his temple when he circled in front of you again. “Resisting me. Squirming and trying to claw his way out. To get back to all of you.”

“Is there a point to this monologue?” Your voice wavered, sounding feeble instead of assertive.

“I can sense how vulnerable you are in my presence because of this pretty face. Haven’t you ever wondered what it is that Dean wants most?” He began slowly pacing back and forth in front of you. “I know his thoughts. His desires. His reasons for fighting. I know all that you’ve been through together...”

“He wants the same thing we all do. To take out as many of you douchebags as we can until--”

“You are what he wants.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat had gone dry.

“...what?”

“Why do you think he said yes to me? Why do all of you sacrifice yourselves for each other? Again and again...and again.” He paused and met your eyes when you didn’t say anything. “For love. For the fear of having to live without each other. For the ‘family business’ or whatever. Now, Sam? Mary? His angel pal and even the nephilim-- sure, he loves them. He would die for them. But you…well, there aren’t words for how devastated he would be if anything ever happened to you.”

“You’re...lying,” you whispered.

“I’m just a messenger, sweetheart.”

He spun on his heel and held his hands out to his sides, chuckling as he shook his head. You wanted to believe everything he was saying, but you had no reason to. Michael had lied to Dean-- why wouldn’t he do the same to you?

“Why are you telling me any of this? Why bother finding me at all?”

“Because his squirming is like an incessant gnat that simply won’t go away. So, as a small attempt to put his floundering to rest, I decided to pay you a visit. To say the things he never could. To put an end to his doubts...the worry and the fear and the anger that keeps him fighting. To show him there’s no need to resist me any longer. Lucifer is dead and all of you survived.”

“So you’re pretending to care about his well-being now?” you scoffed. “That’s your play?”

“He’s angry with himself for saying ‘yes’--but he wanted to save his brother and the boy. To beat Lucifer and, together, that’s what we did. He’s so worried about his family’s safety but, with my help, you were all spared from Lucifer’s wrath. Now, after everything I’ve told you...do you have any idea what Dean’s greatest fear is? His reason for continuing to resist me?”

As the gears turned and every fiber of your being seemed to have a hunch about what he meant, your mind refused to even consider the possibility. There was no way he could possibly mean--

“You,” Michael sighed impatiently. “You’re the one he’s most attached to. The source of his deepest fear and regret. Because what if something happened to his beloved Y/N? What if he never had the chance to tell you that he loves you? That he’s always been too much of a coward to admit it.”

Feeling like the air had been knocked from your lungs, tears began to well in your eyes at his admission. You weren’t sure if he was telling the truth, but if there was any way to reach him...you had to try.

“Dean? If you can hear me--”

“Dean’s not home right now. He’s served his purpose and his mission is complete. Now it’s time for mine.”

You knew you should ask what he meant, but right now you couldn’t care less about Michael’s mission. Taking a measured step forward, you gazed into his eyes and hoped he could hear you, no matter how deep he was buried.

“I love you too, Dean. More than you could ever know… And no matter what happens, none of this is your fault.”

Michael scoffed at your attempt before suddenly hunching over to stare at the ground. His expression quickly grew irritated and he shook his head as he rolled his shoulders back.

“So...very...pathetic,” he mumbled angrily.

“...Dean?”

He stood abruptly, jaw clenched and nostrils flaring as he closed the distance between the two of you. You watched as he curled his lip in disgust and placed two fingers on your forehead. When his pupils flash blue once again, your body went rigid as a warm energy spread from your head to your toes.

As he withdrew his hand, you breathed heavily and rolled your sleeves up to discover the wounds from your hunt had been healed. You glanced back at him with a puzzled expression and let out a small gasp when you noticed how drastically his demeanor had changed.

Instead of blank, dead eyes, you were met with tender emerald ones. He reached a hand out and lightly traced his fingertips along the edge of your jaw.

“Y/N…”

It was nothing more than a whisper; a silent plea for you to hear everything he didn’t have time to say. When the word escaped his lips, he drew his eyebrows together-- all of the raw emotion Michael had kept locked away painted clearly on his face.

You understood completely, hearing it all in the way he said your name.

“I know, Dean. We’re gonna find a way to get you back. Just hold on.”

He cupped your cheek and a sad, longing smile graced his lips when you leaned into his touch. Without warning, his eyes flashed blue once more.

In the blink of an eye he was gone.

Clenching the bag of food and beer in one hand, you wiped away a few stray tears and fished your phone from your pocket. After selecting a number from your favorite contacts, you began jogging toward the motel. The line rang several times before going to voicemail, but you quickly hung up and dialed again.

Arriving at your room, you unlocked the door and began frantically packing your bag. You huffed in frustration when the call went to voicemail again but, on your third attempt, you finally heard Sam’s groggy voice.

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s Y/N. So, get this--”

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms @amanda-teaches @cosicas-cuquis @crist1216 @droidyouseek @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @flawless-disaster @janeyboo @jenn0755 @ksgeekgirl @maresmiley @memyselfandmaddox @notyourtypicalrose @randomparanoid @rynabarnesrogers @sandlee44 @scarletsoldierrr @shann-the-artist-moon @sheerioasteroidpanda @shynara51 @someday-when-you-leave-me @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @thisismysecrethappyplace @torntaltos @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @weebid @whimsicalrobots @wintersoldierbaby @wintersoldierissucharide @yesfanficsaremylife

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @deangirl7695 @dean-winchesters-bacon @fandomoniumflurry @pisces-cutie @supernaturalenchanted @superromijn @waywardnerd67 @x-waywardaf-x

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krakensdottir · 3 years

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Crowley snake headcanons

Because I’m bored, and I have a lot of these, and I’ve decided to compile them.

Crowley isn’t venomous. He could be, with a little effort, but he isn’t. Venom is for killing prey and as a last-ditch defense against predators, and he didn’t have to worry about either on Earth. As for Hell... yeah, it wouldn’t really be any help there.

He does however pretend he’s venomous in Hell. Like, if anyone asks. He’d be a laughingstock otherwise.

He doesn’t normally have fangs in human form, or a forked tongue, as fun as that can be in fanart. Both are absolute crap for any kind of spoken language. Can literally end up tying his tongue in knots. (Though again, he can manifest either if he wants to, but unless he’s trying to show up another demon or really scare the piss out of a human, there’s no point.)

He does not unhinge his jaw. Snakes do not unhinge their jaws. They have naturally flexible jaw hinges that basically stretch like elastic bands when their mouths open wide. If anything, if Crowley decided to swallow something really big, it’s his throat that would distend, because that’s really what limits us humans in terms of swallowing. Not really much need for that trick though, unless he’s trying to gross out Aziraphale I guess.

He’s not cold-blooded, only because he’s a demon and not an actual snake, and metabolic rates don’t apply to him. He still doesn’t care much for cold weather. He won’t freeze, but it’s uncomfortable. He’s used to warm, having spent his first few millennia on Earth in warm climates - and who knows how long in a pool of boiling sulfur, of course. England’s climate is miserable for him, but he likes the people and has become too attached to it as a home territory to be driven off by rain or snow. Anyway, he can miracle himself dry/warm any time. Turn up the internal infernal fires to keep out the winter chill, and so on.

He doesn’t snake very often these days. People used to be pretty okay with talking animals showing up out of nowhere. Now, not so much. And London isn’t made for giant snakes. He’s only ever done it recently at his own place, because sometimes it’s nice to let go of limbs once in a while. Heavy things, those.

He’s colorblind. Or rather, has dichromatic vision, like most reptiles (and most mammals, actually). He’s also pretty nearsighted and has trouble focusing on things like fine print, which is one reason he doesn’t read all that often. And when he does, he likes Very Big Books.

His eyes shouldn’t really be limited any more than his metabolism, but A. there’s only so much you can do with vertical slit pupils, which just aren’t made for that kind of focusing, and B. the eyes are something he clearly can’t control and I imagine there’s a price for that.

He doesn’t have heat vision because he’s a snake. Only some snakes can ‘see’ heat, and they use special pits in their faces, not their eyes. Crowley has infrared vision, though, just because it’s useful to demons. Probably ultraviolet too. Angels definitely see ultraviolet just fine. (Yes, Aziraphale can see bee colors. Enjoy that image.)

Likewise, his superior sense of smell is demonic, not snaky. Though habits are habits and sometimes, when no one’s looking, he will flick his tongue out to literally taste the air. It’s an embarrassing tic he’s mostly but not entirely shaken. Like hissing.

Speaking of, and this is a big one: the hiss is not a sibilant. Only cartoon snakes say ‘sssssss’. Like, that’s fun to write as a speech quirk, although I personally struggle with it when reading. But a snake’s hiss is an exhalation. It’s basically a sigh, that rattles certain structures in the snake’s throat, producing a different tone depending on species. In some large snakes like the king cobra, the sound could better be described as a roar. Anyway, when Crowley’s hiss comes out, it’s as an angry sigh - that goes on longer than a human’s and hits a very sinister, reptilian note no human throat would produce. It also occurs in the back of his throat while he’s speaking, and not as a consonant sound. His tongue is not involved. (The fact that he trips over his own tongue constantly is a whole other thing. That’s just... Crowley.)

His walk is also partly ‘just Crowley’ but to be completely honest, when he first took human form with Earthly matter, he might have gotten the pelvis slightly off. And might have slightly misjudged the number of vertebrae in a human spine. Bit of a nuisance, but every time he’s reincorporated has been identical, and even he isn’t sure if that’s down to his own innate stubbornness subconsciously insisting on a familiar form or the bloodymindedness of Hell. So... he goes with it. People think he’s just sauntering. That’s cool. No need to know about his slight ophidian mobility issues.

#good omens #crowley #hashtag just snake things #hashtag snake life #feel free to chip in I love you guys

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nutty1005 · 4 years

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How “The Untamed” reversed its fate, Xiao Zhan went the hard way in his depiction of Wei Wuxian

Original Article: https://www.weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404476523863212216#_0 Original Author: 乍暖已寒 (Published by: 爱战DAYTOY_1005)

(TN: The Untamed was based off the novel “Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation” or “Mo Dao Zu Shi / 魔道祖师”. Bringing this novel to the silver screen had its fair share of troubles and many did not look kindly at this project in 2018, nor believed that it would fair well in China.)

I have said this before – when a new top celebrity with stunning good looks appears onto the scene, immediately accompanying it will be forceful criticisms of his/her acting. Xiao Zhan, who burst into fame because of The Untamed, is no exception to this as well.

Endless negative articles, out-of-context screen snaps with negative captions (e.g. the first 3 episodes where he had to act as Mo Xuanyu, a lunatic), slowed down GIFs, or even insinuating special effects… they really tried their best to smear his acting.

Just this once though, Xiao Zhan prevailed despite all of these. The endless waves of well-prepared negative articles did not prevent Xiao Zhan’s acting chops from appearing on Weibo’s trending topics (instead of his appearance). His unforeseen, exceptional performance in The Untamed proved them wrong – such a great refute to their efforts!

Xiao Zhan’s Exceptional Moments

He had multiple different ways in handling his crying scenes, and they were all able to invoke a lot empathy in his audiences. There were tears of helplessness, tears of doubt, tears of pain, tears of false bravado, tears like that of a lost child – and every teardrop touched his audiences’ hearts.

This scene was my personal favorite – it was as painful as it was beautiful. Besides grief and hopelessness, you could also sense Wei Wuxian’s helplessness, and it became extra heartbreaking. Yes, many would always forget that beneath the all powerful Yiling Patriarch, he was merely a teenage boy, and he had just lost his home.

Besides his crying scenes, Xiao Zhan also had similar delicacy and accuracy in managing the character’s psychology – for example, the scene which Wei Wuxian discovers the method to transfer the Golden Core. At the moment of discovery, he was filled with exultation, but the joy in his eyes slowly dimmed down, ending with relief. There was this sliver of sadness amidst the jubilation but it was quietly set aside.

Xiao Zhan used his “eyes acting” to great effect, and performed the series of complex emotions perfectly – from the discovery of a cure, to understanding that someone has to sacrifice his Golden Core, to deciding that he would be this person. This made the audiences want to ask, “What about you? What is going to happen to you?”

I also admired Xiao Zhan’s attention to details in the scene where Wei Wuxian brings Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli to Yiling Supervisory Hold – he was like a helpless prey trapped at a dead end.

Wei Wuxian was just an child when his family perished, and he had just went through another massacre – there was simply too much death and bloodshed. He was high strung and any bit of provocation could make him lose his rationality. He was instinctively biting his teeth and shaking as he forced himself to protect his only remaining kin.

In fact, after leaving behind the first 10 episodes of happy-go-lucky, Xiao Zhan had countless exceptional moments such as these. I could not even finish describing 10% of them in this long article of mine. For someone who was the lead actor for the first time, his future is really filled with endless possibilities.

As such, I could not even fathom why someone would blindly mock Xiao Zhan’s acting, even more so than when someone mocks his appearance. For someone who could weep while script reading with his fellow actors, how could he be someone with “zero acting chops”?

“Empathic” Style of Performance

The most apt words I can use to describe Xiao Zhan’s acting are “graceful” and “touching” – there appears to be no discourse to his acting, but yet his acting draws empathy and his characterization extremely believable.

To an actor, this is a solution, but this is one of the dumbest method as this is also one of the most harmful method. This is because this method requires the actor to breakdown his personality and restructure himself to suit his character. It makes entering and exiting the role extra difficult – every teardrop is created from the actor’s blood and soul.

To me, I am an extremely sensitive viewer and I like the acting to be natural; I cannot accept any bit of deliberation. I do not like it when performance leaves a trace of the techniques used, instead this “dumb” method is what that can touch me – to become one with the character.

This is probably why this silly child could weep like this during script reading. He might really be a natural born actor, but also a gentle angel – what kind of soul resides in him? How is he able to empathize entirely with Wei Wuxian such that he could tear up like this? Who would not love this boy, who is naturally extraordinary, but yet also incredibly compassionate?

He Understands Wei Wuxian

And because he understood the true meaning behind “becoming Wei Wuxian”, so he understood him even in the smallest details.

Have you ever wondered how Wei Wuxian was like beneath the manically cool Yiling Patriarch and suave youngster?

Firstly, he was an insecure person.

Below is from the author’s Weibo:

His childhood as a stray set the tone for him as person who is always filled with uncertainties – he will subconsciously attempt to change his facade in order to please his loved ones.

And it is evident that Xiao Zhan understands this – you can see that Wei Wuxian has a different facade when dealing with different people. To Jiang Cheng, he is his best buddy; To Nie Huaisang, he tries to be the friend who leads him astray; To Jiang Yanli, he is unashamedly a child begging for praises; To Madam Jiang, he is the most proper and obedient student.

In fact, this scene of an obedient Wei Wuxian gave me more affirmation that Xiao Zhan knows Wei Wuxian, more than any of his crying scenes. (Madam Jiang appeared, and he was the first person who stood up, in apprehension.)

Secondly, he puts up a false front.

Before the broadcast of the drama, Xiao Zhan gave an interview which caused displeasure among part of the novel fans. He said “Too many crying scenes, Wei Wuxian cried too much.” Some of these agitated fans expressed that Wei Wuxian was actually a cheerful happy-go-lucky person, he does not like to cry – he only cried twice in the books, Xiao Zhan must not understand his character!

However, is that really so? Evidently not. The novel was written from Wei Wuxian’s angle, therefore the story was told to us by Wei Wuxian, and hence we are actually reading his version of the story.

When you think about it, how is it possible for Wei Wuxian to not be devastated at the massacre of Jiang Family, the death of his brother-in-law due to his misstep, the death of Jiang Yanli, who took the sword on his behalf, or his own death, where he despaired and allowed himself to be devoured by ghosts? It is definitely not possible, but why were these not described in the books? Because, Wei Wuxian, who liked to put on a false front, decided to sidestep these in his own version.

Yes, our Wei Wuxian was the sort of person who only spoke of the good, but never the bad. No matter how much trauma he suffered physically or mentally, he kept smiling and kept his false front. He always looked like nothing mattered to him and he never suffered.

Hence, when he was battered and wounded by the demonic dog in the drama, despite being covered in wounds, after he took a bite of the bun he got from Jiang Cheng, he smiled brilliantly and said “delicious”. This part made me cry for him – I felt so much for this stubborn child.

Below is why, I was sure from the beginning that Xiao Zhan would do a good portrayal of Wei Wuxian. He told Wei Wuxian at the end of The Untamed shooting to “cherish yourself more, stop putting on a false front”.

He really knew him. He really felt for him.

He came from a boyband, he had no professional acting training, he did not even have much experience in acting, but he lived up to Wei Wuxian.

In the End

Finally I wanted to say, analyzing anyone’s acting using static pictures, GIFs or even short video clips, without script or character context, are all biased analysis. True performance is not pieced together by short clips, but by complete characterization. As such, perhaps my article may just be as truthful as those gossip articles online. You are welcomed to watch The Untamed in order to truly understand how Xiao Zhan did.

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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effymaybe · 3 years

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Might buy, might bite

Lisa is having a terrible night. She makes some poor decisions, unaware of a certain creature awaiting in the dark. -

Vampire!Jennie because it is not Halloween but vampires are always cool.

Pairing: Jennie/Lisa

Warnings: Mature content but the sexy kind / Vampires are not known by establishing ideally healthy relationships on the first try / I haven’t written in months and you CAN notice

The night is unusually dark.

The few stars above palpitate almost painfully, and the darkish clouds invisible against the black mattress of the sky become only evident as they engulf the full moon in a loose hug. The contrast creates a faint, somber light that coats the quiet neighborhood as in a silent spell, and the yellowish glow of the few artificial lanterns surrounding the street only contribute to the mysterious vibe of the otherwise familiar landscape.

The absolutely rational portion of Lisa’s brain knows very well that a woman should never walk alone at night. She also knows, stored along other probably-live-saving hacks, that in case of finding herself indeed walking alone at night, she should never ever choose a lonely, poorly illuminated shortcut to reach her destination.

Now, although Lisa’s rationale works quite well, her emotional side couldn’t give less a fuck about surviving.

And that’s how she finds herself walking-running-crying throughout the most dangerous way home.

Her overly-expensive makeup is intact, thankfully, but the tight white dress she chose to impersonate an angel at that damn Halloween party is crumbled everywhere. Her long, black hair is quite messy, but at least her bangs are still in place. She’s running in her heels, much at the sake of her feet, and the ridiculous white wings she was so proud about just three hours ago hit softly against her back as she rushes to burry herself under a billion mattresses.

It’s pitiable, really, how he manages to break her heart in more and more pieces every time she decides to put it back into his hands.

It’s pitiable, too, how every single person she knows manages to betray her at least once.

Lisa stops in her tracks, feeling her long legs weakening suddenly. A ragged sob escapes from her plump lips as she brings her hands up to contain the tears spilling mercilessly from her eyes.

It was supposed to be a fun, happy party to celebrate that the big group of whatever they mean with “friends” could finally gather together after a long time of isolation. She prepared herself along with the girls, her own doe eyes shining in poorly-hidden excitement. She laughed genuinely at the questionably-mannered comments about her costume, drank a bit of rosé even before they got to the gathering. Once there, her boyfriend dedicated her a crooked, cocky smile and grasped her roughly by the waist in what Lisa considered a sign of appreciation. They danced and they drank alcohol. At some point, the brunette thought that her partner was going to kiss her, but he merely hugged her stiffly every time Lisa stared into his eyes.

Then, time passed and he disappeared. Lisa’s so-called friends spread throughout the place to dance without her. Her feet started to hurt and the party got uncomfortably warm. She looked for him with her doe eyes lost under the flashing lights until she decided he wasn’t on the gigantic living room.

Then, she looked upstairs.

And she heard the moans even before she actually saw something.

Lisa didn’t want it to be her boyfriend. Her hands shook as she merely pushed the half-closed door completely open. She stared with her heart already weeping as the man that had promised her never to hurt her again twice engaged quite passionately in a much intimate activity with a girl who, amidst the dirty blonde hair covering her face, looked quite familiar.

It only took Lisa two seconds.

Her boyfriend was fucking her best friend.

Lisa ran downstairs, crying, ignoring her now ex-boyfriend’s weak protests and her ex-best-friend’s voice basically begging him to forget her and come back to bed. When she found to her group, or what she could gather of it, with her eyes already filled with tears, the simply told her that of course they knew and that she was kinda stupid not to notice, really.

Lisa bolted out of the party with her usually sunny spirit completely shattered.

Which brings her to her current situation, still sobbing desperately as the alley she is walking through gets gloomier and gloomier.

Fuck him. Fuck them, too. I deserve better. I deserve-

She catches a weak, airy sound with her left ear.

Lisa turns around suddenly sober and suddenly very much aware of the fact that she got herself in quite a disadvantageous situation.

The night got warmer, somehow. The moonlight has given up under the insisting obscure clouds.

Lisa feels the cold shiver of pure fear shooting through her spine and relaxes only slightly when she cannot spot anybody around the place.

She swallows thickly as she starts to walk faster, her footwear clicking on the pavement almost as if giving her in.

The brunette feels wired in, hyperaware. The fain sound of the wind makes her shoulders tense. She catches a quick shadow with the corner of her eye and only gets more nervous when she can still see nothing.

The narrow space crooks at some point, and Lisa inhales deeply.

She can do it.

She will walk straight home and gather plenty of strength and call her stupid ex-boyfriend to tell him-

But she cannot keep walking.

As her slender body submerges more profoundly into the darkness of the night, a strong grip pushes her against the rough, cold wall of the alley. She fights back, absolutely terrified. Her heart hammers painfully against her choked chest, and she feels the tingles of pure adrenaline strengthening her arms.

And yet, the grip remains solid.

Lisa thinks about shouting, crying, breaking down in a loud wail hoping to be rescued. Just then, with her voice already reaching her throat, she realizes that the figure keeping her in place is slightly shorter than her.

Feminine, surprisingly delicate.

Lisa can’t scream.

Her eyes search widely the ones of her captor, absolutely dumbfounded, and it is at that moment when the moon can finally push the disturbing darkness away from its light.

As the alley gets brighter, Lisa is left absolutely breathless.

Just in front of her, with both hands immobilizing her body completely, stands the most beautiful girl Lisa has seen in her entire life.

Her face is soft, but cut sharply by prominent cheekbones. Her eyes, dark as the silent sky, are drawn in a cat-line shape that makes her gaze simply melting. Her nose is delicate, small, and her indented philtrum leads to luscious, curved lips. Her forehead is half-covered by open bangs, and her light-brownish hair falls in irresistible waves against her soft jaw. Her dress, tight, black, and visibly expensive, exposes prominent collarbones and a set of curves that should be illegal for a single woman to have.

Lisa only realizes that she’s staring when she hears a soft teasing chuckle.

“Well, hello, honey”.

The brunette presses her lips together in a nervous habit. The girl’s voice is sultry, tempting.

She finds herself struggling for a few seconds before answering.

“Huh- Who…? What…?”

The beauty in front of her licks her mouth almost as if gloating. Her grip remains stoic.

“Who are you, honey?”

Lisa feels somewhat offended. She tears her astonished gaze away from the girl’s face to focus on trying to escape.

“No, who are you? What is this? Let me go!”

She tries with all her will, but the light-brunette’s grip does not give in.

There is something… wrong with it. Cold. Too steady.

It feels like she’s struggling against iron.

Another chuckle heats up her cheeks.

“I’m Jennie”, she hears, and Lisa stops fighting for a moment, “There is no need to be so rude. I was just trying to put a name on my next meal”.

The tallest girl scoffs loudly but grows quiet at the girl’s determined expression.

Jennie doesn’t sound like she’s joking.

“You smell so good”, the shortest girl murmurs. Lisa can’t move. She’s suddenly scared again, as her brain tries desperately to put some of the pieces of all that nonsense together. “Let me….”. The light-brunette shifts, burring her face bluntly against her neck. Lisa is still terrified, really, but Jennie’s chilly breath against her skin rises pleased goosebumps here and there.

The shortest girl runs her nose up her prey’s throat, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, sweetie, you smell fantastic. Fuck”.

Lisa trembles as her skepticism falters.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. What the hell are you?”

She hears a delicate, throaty chuckle vibrating against her pulse point.

Lisa’s knees give in further, somehow.

She tries earnestly to remind herself that the serious possibility of getting murdered in the same night she found her boyfriend having sex with her best friend should not be sexy at all.

“You know the answer, already, cutie. Don’t you?”

Jennie pulls away to lock her gaze with Lisa’s again. There is a predatory glint, a paralyzing edge that makes her cat-like eyes seem as if they could pick on every piece of the tallest girl’s soul.

“I… yes. No, I mean…. You don’t exist. This can’t be”.

The shortest girl’s lets a perfect eyebrow curve in a teasing manner. Lisa can tell that she’s plenty enjoying whatever sick pre-murder game she’s playing. She’s beautiful, the dark-haired girl thinks helplessly. Stunning. Jennie’s luscious mouth spreads in an open, gummy smile that would look adorable if it wasn’t for the –absolutely threatening and not at all attractive- sight of her pointy fangs in display. Lisa manages to stop staring at the girl’s reddened lips to focus on her intense orbs once again, and she lets out a breathless gasp when she sees deep coffee turning into bloody red.

“I do very much exist, gorgeous. And this definitely can be. I wasn’t even going to hunt today, but…” Jennie brings mouth closer to Lisa’s jaw. “Your scent… I had to have you”.

Jennie is not exactly courting. She’s more like being a blood-thirsty, all-powerful, over-intense vampire. Yet, Lisa finds herself blushing like a damn idiot. She knows, at a relatively conscious level, that the smoking light-brunette is just speaking about the very much needed liquid that runs through her veins and not about her whole physique.

She’s about to be Jennie’s next meal. And as the vampire´s fingers indent more profoundly in her skin, she discovers that there is no way out.

So she stays, somewhat embracing her destiny. Her ex-friends are shit. Her ex-boyfriend is shit. Her father is shit. She doesn’t really know whether her mom is shit or not because she abandoned when she was a child so- well that probably makes her shit, too.

At least she’ll die at the hands of a gorgeous woman.

Meanwhile, Jennie’s stare has changed. Deep red has settled in her orbs, but now she’s staring at Lisa’s features with scrutinizing detail. Her head is tilted. The tallest girl can see the delicate mole sitting just above her left eye. Her aura is intense, and definitely hypnotizing, and the brunette finds out that she has stopped fighting against the vampire’s embrace long minutes ago.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart”, Jennie murmurs suddenly, and lets the pad of her index finger run softly against Lisa’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, her pouty lips, her strong jaw. The tallest girl trembles, finding it difficult to draw deep breaths. Jennie’s touch is icy against her overly-heated face and it feels so nice, so charming. “So beautiful, baby. Tell me your name”.

And Lisa doesn’t even put up a fight.

“Lisa…Manoban”.

“Mmh, we’ll see that”, Jennie answers, and licks her lips as she traces her blunt nails against her prey’s throat. “You are so enticing, darling”, then, as an afterthought, Jennie brings her gaze up to Lisa’s mouth, “I bet you have an owner already… well… that’s not my problem, really”.

A twisted smile crawls up Jennie’s smug expression, and the brunette scoffs loudly.

“I do not have-”, her voice falters as the vampire’s starts to trace messy patterns up and down her thigs, “An owner. I mean, nobody does. It is not-”, the shortest girl’s nose dips back into her neck, “It doesn’t work like that”.

She feels another cold chuckle pressing against her skin.

“Fine, then. A boyfriend? A girlfriend? A partner?”

Lisa opens her mouth to answer. She’s about to be dismissive, really. If the vampire is really about to suck her dry, there is no need for her to put her fingers inside such a hurtful open wound.

But she can’t speak. She feels her lungs aching for air as Jennie starts to drag her velvety lips against her racing pulse point.

“I asked you a question”, she hears up her jaw, “Do you have a partner, Lisa?”. Jennie’s left arm squeezes Lisa’s small waist firmly, demanding. The tallest girl feels hazy as the vampire leaves open-mouthed kisses along her exposed skin.

“I- no. No, he… he cheated on me”.

Lisa guesses that the mere thought of the past events in the night should make her feel profoundly depressed. It’s actually kind of hard to think properly with the vampire’s sweet scent engulfing her senses.

Jennie stops suddenly, and the tallest girl feels irrationally disappointed.

“Is that why you were crying?”, the shortest girl asks, her red eyes- now more threatening than ever- burning into Lisa’s doe stare.

“I… how long have you been-”

The light-brunette frowns as her mouth curls downwards.

Lisa realizes that the girl likes her answers straight.

Well, damn.

“Since you left that stupidly loud party. What a waste of time for a beauty like you”.

The brunette is left speechless. She stares at the shortest girl with slight surprise. She doesn’t really know what a cold-blooded vampire that clearly has her under her entire disposition could win by such a display of sensibility.

Then, something changes. The light-brunette smirks once again, as if empowered, her aura shifting towards something dangerous, irresistible. Her soft hands start to run up and down Lisa’s body slowly, grazing the underside of her breasts, and the tallest girl cannot even think about the fact that she could try to run away once again.

“Don’t you see, sweetie?” Jennie murmurs deceiving against the skin of her neck, “Don’t you see that I could treat you so well?”.

The vampire inhales deeply just pressing against her prey’s pulse point, as if trying to contain something extremely forceful. “I could make you feel so good, baby, so good”. When Jennie’s hands reach to palm her breasts gently, Lisa gives up. She closes her eyes, powerless, and her mouth falls open as the shortest girl licks along her jawline, now exploring her back. “I love this”, the brunette hears vibrating against her ear, and it takes her a moment to realize that Jennie is talking about the damn wings, “They look cute. It was so fun following you around”.

“Oh my god”, Lisa breathes, and the shortest girl smiles against her neck.

The moon shines brightly now. The shadows of the night highlight Jennie’s acute features almost dangerously. There is a faint scent, hers, all hers, that clouds Lisa’s thinking. When she feels a firm, naked leg parting her own thighs, the tallest girl can’t help but to throw her head back in a spur of delight. The firm pressure against her moisty heat sends her into a frenzy.

“You are so beautiful baby. All for me. You just have so say yes”.

Lisa’s dizzy judgment wonders why would a vampire need permission for something that she can take so easily.

When Jennie starts to suck reddish spots on her sensitive skin, the brunette can hardly gather another thought.

“Say yes, beautiful. Let me taste you”. The vampire nibbles at Lisa’s velvety throat with her front teeth, soft at first and more insistently due the lack of response. A needy groan goes past Jennie’s lips as the tallest girl’s flavor falls onto her tongue. “Fuck, sweetie. Come on. Say yes. Give in, Lisa”.

Jennie uses her strong hands to guide the tallest girl’s waist so she can ride her leg in a steady pace. The dirty mewl that breaks off Lisa’s throat should be enough, but she knows that the vampire wants straight answers and she would give her anything, anything she wants just to keep up with the pleasing friction.

“Yes”, she lets out in a moan, feeling her body pleasingly trapped between the vampire’s strong body and the rough wall. “Yes, yes, oh-”.

Jennie doesn’t want any longer. She doesn’t think she can actually. The smell of Lisa’s thick blood now combined with her raw wetness unveil an animalistic nature she tried to keep at bay. She drags her piercing fangs along the brunette’s neck once, just to tease her a bit further, before actually biting down in pure need.

The taste alone almost gets her off.

It’s delicious, succulent, rich, even more addictive than she expected.

Jennie has never stopped herself from drinking blood, whether fresh or packed, whenever she needed it. She has been in it for centuries, damn it, and yet Lisa’s tangy-sweet savor is something her now gleeful taste buds have never experienced.

The vampire smiles in an almost sick euphoria as she feels the thick liquid spilling here and there. She alternates between sucking earnestly and lapping in a happy delirium, and feels the girl against her getting desperate to speed up her delicious motions.

For Lisa, it was brief pain, the feeling of sharp needles piercing through her skin.

And then, pure, consuming bliss.

She didn’t even know it could feel like that. It probably can’t, in normal conditions, but she is not even able to consider it properly properly with her clothed core grinding wet against Jennie’s bare thigh.

“Fuck, baby. You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tried”.

Lisa hears the vampire’s words coming in short gasps. It turns her on even further. Everything feels so nice, so damn right that she can’t bring herself to care anymore. When Jennie tongues the fresh wounds in her throat, she clenches hard.

“Such a good girl, Lisa. All mine”.

The brunette feels the vampire’s tongue deep inside her mouth before she realizes that she’s moving. A tang of copper combines with a cherry-like flavor that can only be Jennie’s. She mewls against the shortest girl’s mouth, her eyes shut closed as she takes in the relentless waves of pleasure that shoot through her body.

Lisa begins to thrust in abandon. She wants to thank Jennie for helping her find the perfect pace with her steady hands. She wants to thank her for making her feel so, so fucking good. She wants to be perfect for her at that moment and offer, just offer it all. A burning fire sets low, and it grows impossibly grand. She feels it tying and tying and she wants to cry out in desperation. She pleads right against the vampire’s demanding lips.

“Please, please… Please, Jennie”.

She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, but the light-brunette does. With just a flicker of her wrists, Jennie changes the angle of Lisa’s thrusts. The shift hits perfectly, just there, all that the brunette needed, and she hears as the occasional moans she can’t help but to let out when Jennie releases her swollen lips get increasingly louder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart”, the vampire sucks in her tongue just for another moment, “Come for me. Show me, baby. I want to see it all”.

Lisa does not need any more convincing.

As if wired to Jennie’s firm orders, her body lets go in a powerful release that has her high for a few minutes. When she comes down, she feels Jennie’s lips catching a few tears of pure overstimulation falling from her eyes.

She is panting, damp, and incredibly exhausted, she gathers both because of the astonishing peak and the non-incidental loss of blood. Her head falls almost shyly on top of the shortest girl’s shoulder, but the vampire seems completely unbothered by the gesture.

She keeps holding her, waiting. Her hands run through her back almost soothingly, and then begin to fix her clothes in a surprising display of care. When Jennie’s knuckles graze against her underwear, Lisa jolts and whimpers a half-serious complaint.

The vampire smiles.

“You did so well, beautiful”, Lisa feels soft pecks pressed against the skin of her neck, “but I think you ruined your panties”.

The brunette allows herself to chuckle before inhaling deeply.

It’s clearly over.

A shiver of fear runs through her spine but there is not much else to do. She knows that there is no point in even trying to run away. She’s not even sure of being able to stand without Jennie’s anchoring arms.

“Are you… gonna kill me now?”

Lisa feels as the vampire detaches herself slowly from her body.

Her heart starts to beat furiously against her chest.

It’s truly over isn’t it?

She makes an effort to meet Jennie’s intense gaze with hers. When she finds pure confusion in a renewed coffee tone, she doubts her own words, too.

“Kill you, darling? What are you talking about?”

Lisa hesitates for a moment.

“Huh, since you are… a vampire and all”.

Brief recognition illuminates Jennie’s expression to then be replaced by an almost edged amusement.

“Oh, baby”, she murmurs, and uses her knuckles to caress the tallest girl’s features almost reverently, “You really thought I would kill you? And deprive myself from a gorgeous human like you? Absolutely not. I’ve been looking so long to find someone exactly like you. And now that I have…” her fingers grasp the brunette’s chin, forcing their stares to melt, “you are mine, Lisa. And I take care of what belongs to me”.

The tallest girl opens her mouth, stunned. She figures she should feel furious.

She’s mostly in disbelief.

“But…”

“You already said yes, cutie”, Jennie giggles. She looks so young, suddenly mischievous, happy with herself. “I have already marked you. There’s no way out”.

Again, Lisa figures she should feel furious.

She’s mostly… considering.

“I’m going to take you home now”, Jennie tells her, and eyes Lisa’s neck in a bust of pride. “I promised the girls that I was going to take a human someday. They’ll be ecstatic”.

“The girls?”, Lisa mumbles. She feels Jennie’s hand grasping hers, pulling her in, dragging her somewhere.

Her feet follow as if in a spell.

“Rosé and Jisoo. They are getting bored, I guess. It’s been only us three for centuries. They could use some new company”, there is a pause, “as long as I make their boundaries really clear”.

“Boundaries?”

Lisa is lost, but not completely. There is something growing in her chest. A warm, fuzzy feeling.

“I don’t share, Lisa”.

“Oh”.

They stay in silence for a few seconds. Jennie analyzes Lisa’s expression carefully. Her hold is firm and cold, yet somewhat tender. The tallest girl simply waits. There is no need to make a decision. She feels her own limbs going back to a relaxed, pleased position.

“Ready, darling?”

Jennie is testing her. In response, Lisa licks her lips. The faint taste of iron and strawberries makes her smile.

“Yes, I am ready”.

Jennie’s eyes light up in silent happiness only to turn deep brown again.

“Perfect. Let’s hurry up. I’m dying to taste the rest of you”.

Lisa wonders if she’ll get to sleep before that happens. Or if she’ll make it into some form of a shower.

As she delights herself with the gorgeous figure of her captor, she figures she doesn’t mind, really.

#jenlisa #blackpink scenarios #jennie scenarios #lisa scenarios #blackpink fanfic

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miraculousamara · 3 years

Text

I got a story idea earlier today, I posted two chapters on my wattpad today. Basically it's a story idea where Chloe has a twin sister. But the twin is actually nicer than Chloe and only does what Chloe tells her because she makes her. This is Stoneheart Orgins Part 2.Because of text limit I'll add two parts. If anyone has any questions about missing plot points you can just comment or I might post the first chapter. Also Chloe and Cameron aren't identical twins, they have the same hair color, but they have different eye color, they are fraternal twins even though they are the same gender. (If I got any facts about twins wrong please tell me.my mother is an identical twin so I don't really know much about fraternal twins as I've only met one set)

Cameron's POV:

On the TV:

Nadja: (standing to the side of a picture of one of Stoneheart's minions, tablet in hand) The stone beings are scattered all over Paris, and for the time being, they are showing no signs of movement. (a variety of pictures is shown) Police have cordoned off the area.

Father: (on television alongside officer Roger) We won't stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves, but for now, we're not making much headway.

(The camera flips backs to Nadja standing next to a photo of Ladybug and Cat Noir.)

Nadja: Paris is relying on our new guardian angels, Ladybug and Cat Noir, to save us all. Our lives depend on them.

I'm going to go to bed for the night.. I just hope tomorrow will be better.

Ladybug and Cat Noir.. I believe in you. I trust you. I know you can save us.

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

Morning

I better get dressed before Chloe complains..

"Cameron! I set out your clothes!" I hear Chloe call out.

"Oh yay. What would I do without you?" I say sarcastically

"You would do nothing without me, because I always outshine you." Chloe says

"I'm just gonna get dressed." I groan

I rush downstairs to the hall and am the first to see father.

"Hey dad." I say

"Cameron. Are you okay? You're not scared about everything going on right?" He asks

"No father, I trust you, Ladybug and Cat Noir. I know they will save us." I say

"Thank you sweetie, I'll do everything in my power to keep you and your sister safe." He says

"I know you will." I say giving him a hug.

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

A few minutes later..

Chloe comes downstairs.

"Hey is Jean whatever his name is ready with the car?" Chloe asks

"Yes, and remember to be safe dear." Dad says

"Yeah whatever. Come on Cameron!" Chloe says

I follow after Chloe and get in the limo.

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

In the limo

"And you better remember what we talked about last night." Chloe says

"Of course Chloe." I say

I forgot to write in my diary about the whole Stoneheart thing last night, but I guess I can do it later today. When Chloe isn't bothering me.

----

"Okay we're here." Chloe says

We exit the limo, greet Sabrina and enter the school.

"Woah look, it's Ivan." I say to Chloe.

"Let's go and see what the crowd around him wants." Chloe says with a suspicious looking smirk.

Oh no.. she's up to no good. She never is.

Especially when that look overtakes her facial expression.But I can't do anything no matter what she does... She warned me what will happen if I mess up again today. I just hope that she decides to be not so harsh for once, but the likelihood of that happening is slim to none unfortunately.

We walk over to the group.

"So you don't remember anything that happened? Alix asks Ivan.

"You were going ballistic! It was so cool!" Says Juleka.

"You were gonna crush me or something!" Says Kim

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't myself." Ivan says

"I'm sure Ivan didn't mean to-" I start

Chloe Elbows me.

"What did we just talk about Cameron?" Chloe asks

"Oh right sorry. " I say sadly

"Once a monster, always a monster!" Chloe says

Ivan growls and storms off.

"Oh and don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Chloe says laughing

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

Third Person POV:

(I TOOK THIS FROM THE TRANSCRIPT AGAIN)

Scene: Hawk Moth's lair.

Hawk Moth: Yes… feel the burn of those words. Lose your temper, Ivan! Your akuma awaits you. (taps on the cane that is holding the akuma)

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

Cameron's POV:

"How could you say such horrible things to Ivan? You're the real Stoneheart!" Alya yells at Chloe

"Yeah, I'm the one who broke Sabrina's dad's arm.Back me up Cameron." Chloe says

"Just because you got that dumb footage of those superheroes doesn't mean you should get all high and mighty." I say

Chloe laughs and blows a bubble in Alya's face.

I do feel bad for what I said, but if Chloe ever catches me apologizing, it will be the end of me.

"Ugh! You little brats!" Alya starts

"Look everyone! She's angry! She's gonna split her underwear and turn into a huge muscly monster!" Chloe says

Alya growls and storms off.

Suddenly I see Adrien appear and wave to us.

"Hey Chloe, hey Cameron!" Adrien says

"Hi Adrien." I say

"Adrikins! You came!" Chloe says running over to him to hug him

I see a bunch of people who recognize him start to gush over him.

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

"Isn't it amazing that you, me and my twin sister are all in the same class?!" Says Chloe

"Yeah, it is, I already have two people I know." Adrien says with a smile.

"Wow you look a lot like your mother." I say in awe.

"What?" He asks

"She said nothing." Chloe says while glaring at me.

"Cameron?" He asks

"Yeah, Chloe's right. I said nothing." I say

"One more slip up Cameron." She threatens

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again." I say

"Yeah, it better not." She says

I could've sworn Adrien passed a shocked look at Chloe, but that could be me just hoping someone heard her for once.

As we enter the classroom and Adrien finishes giving random people his autograph, Chloe rushes in front of us.

"Look Adrikins! I saved you a seat right in front of me!" Chloe says

"Thanks Chloe." Adrien says sitting next to Nino.

I sit in my seat behind Sabrina.

"Hi." Adrien says looking at Nino

"So you're friends with Chloe and Cameron?" Nino asks suspiciously

I feel bad for him anyway..

Suddenly I hear Adrien making an issue of something, I turn around and see Chloe and Sabrina putting gum on Marinette's seat.

"Woah, what are you doing?" Adrien asks

"The brats who sat here yesterday need some attitude adjustment, so I'm gonna teach it to them." Chloe says

Adrien gets up.

"I really don't think that's necessary." Adrien says

"Adrikins, no offense but you have a whole lot to learn about school culture." She says

"Didn't you already insult Alya in the hall?" I ask outloud on accident.

"Cameron what was that?" Chloe asks threateningly

"Nothing important." I say

"That's what I thought." She says

I look at the top of my desk sadly.

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

Suddenly I hear the familiar voice of Marinette shout.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I hear her say.

I look up and see Adrien picking at the gum on Marinette's seat.

Oh poor Adrien..

"Um-" he says

Chloe and Sabrina laugh.

Chloe glares at me for not laughing, so I just go along with it.

"Haha so funny you four." Marinette says

"Wait, I was just trying to get it off!" Adrien says

"Sure you were." Marinette says

Chloe and Sabrina keep laughing.

"Ugh, you're friends with the terrible two huh?" She asks

Honestly I don't blame her for that comment, but it still hurts everytime someone compares me to Chloe.

"Why do people keep saying that?" I hear Adrien quietly and sadly ask.

Marinette covers her seat with a tissue, and the two sit down

"See what I mean about respect?" Chloe asks

Adrien sadly sighs.

"Hey where's Ivan?" I ask

"How should I know where that brute is?" Chloe asks

"Why didn't you tell them that it was 'The Terrible Two's' idea?" I hear Nino ask

"I've known Chloe and Cameron since I was little... and while they may not be perfect, I can't throw them under the bus, they're my only friends. And I'm starting to think Cameron might not really have much to do with Chloe's plans.." I hear Adrien say.

He's the first person who has ever said anything nice like that about me..

"The terrible two are a package deal my man.. but I'm Nino, and it's about time you made some new friends." I hear him say

He deserves good friends. I wish I was allowed to have friends...

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

Third Person POV:

(FROM THE TRANSCRIPT)

Scene: Hawk Moth's lair.

Hawk Moth: Yes. This is what I've been waiting for. You know the way, evil akuma. Track down your prey! Fly away and evilize him!

(The akuma held in Hawk Moth's cane exits it and flies out the window.)

-----

Scene: The locker room. Ivan is upset. The akuma flies in and infects Ivan's wadded-up song lyrics.

Hawk Moth: (from his lair) This is your second chance, Stoneheart, and this time you have extra help. No one will stop you from capturing the love of your life. Just remember, I'll need something in return.

(Ivan is akumatized into Stoneheart again. He opens his eyes and all the other stone beings across Paris start waking up.)

I'll link the rest of this chapter when I post the rest of it.

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #mlb #miraculous au #miraculous Bourgeois twin au #chloe bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix

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tokyoghoose · 4 years

Text

nous aimons tous les deux jours

pairing: dabi x reader

playlist: things we never say - bad bad habits*, sincerity is scary - the 1975, love love love - of monsters and men, if i go, im going - gregory alan isakov, i dont know me like you do - low hum, if i get high - nothing but thieves ( alice kristiansen cover ), i dare you - the regrettes, problems - deathbyromy, fool of you - meltt, hell and you - amigo the devil, creature - it looks sad, tongues and teeth - the crane wives, hooked ( addicted you might say ) - eleisha eagle, nothings gonna hurt you baby - cigarettes after sex, a dream of you - far caspian, so alright, cool, whatever - the happy fits, a lovely night - ryan gosling

warnings: mentions of violence, brief mentions of drugs for expression, and suggestive themes

summary: we love every other day

announcements!

this is my first try at a enemies/lover thingy! Originally it was going to be an enemy to lovers but i liked the idea that they're just on opposing sides a little more haha. Lemme know if you'd like to see the other one though!

i know there are a lot of hero x villain fics like this out there 😌 this is my take on it, so please bare with me!

feedback is welcome and appreciated! requests are open!

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

An addiction. That's what it is. Either that or it's some kind of reverse psychology like you want what you can't have—because nothing else makes sense. If you knew him as a regular person, honestly you probably wouldn't have given him a second thought. If he was a hero you worked beside—or god forbid a villain—then you probably wouldn't have cared for a hookup or two, but then you'd get over it. It's not infatuation. It's an addiction. It's toxic and unhealthy and it just feels good even if it shouldn't. But the high; the high is unbeatable.

It continues on forever and more. From the moment his gaze pierces yours it's like snorting a rail of coke or taking a tab and the trip never ends. It's not even the fact you could get caught. You two are so damn obvious; anyone who stumbles into an alleyway at three in the morning would see the two of you doing more than what a fight warrants. It's just him. It's simply Dabi.

Romeo and Juliette's syndrome is probably a better term for it. But hell, it's not like he'd die for you. Right? It's not like you've known each other way longer than some days and nights and you certainly aren't teenagers and he's definitely not somebody who moves onto a girl and decides he's in love at first sight just because his 'rosaline' left him face down ass up. So maybe Romeo and Juliette is just lack of a better term.

But it's so unfair. How the hell are you supposed to escape him when it's like he's around every corner. With every breath you take, it's like he's an inch closer to crushing your chest with his. And maybe you want him to? This isn't very hero-like.

"You're the one always tracking me down, doll."

The pet name sends shivers down your spine and it makes you want him all the more.

Who am I? What has gotten into me?

You blame the pink tint to your cheeks on the brisk wind of the night, but the heat to them is a large contrast. You cross your arms over your chest and scoff, trying to look taller, stronger, and broader. Not in a threatening way, but more a warning.

This time you'll really take him out.

"In case you forgot, it's my job."

You tell yourself that every time.

And every time he gets away.

"I'm not doing anything but taking a walk."

He steps closer, the already short distance between you two getting shorter. The streetlamp that cuts the scene in half flickers, a moth flying away from the light and towards the moon. You count three squares in distance and you resist the urge to step back.

"You're a wanted criminal, Dabi."

He doesn't deny it but scoffs anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets leisurely. It's like he's never bothered. You're just a nat he's waiting to squash. You have to remind yourself of that: You're just prey.

"I think you just miss me." His tone is serious, but he's only teasing—no matter how true it is. You're starting to think that he can read minds—it's actually quite concerning.

You force a laugh past your lips, trying to show you aren't bothered by what he says. It's just a game of cat and mouse, and it's time the roles switch.

"Please. I could throw you in jail right now."

"But you wouldn't do that. Isn't that right, bunny?"

Your guard faulters and it gives him the opening he needs to corner you completely—and quite literally. It's a blink of an eye and he has you against the brick wall. It'd look rather suspicious to anyone passing, or maybe it looks endearing. But it doesn't matter, to begin with when it's a barren street. Even the crickets seem to have fled.

It's like wherever Dabi walks, everything else scatters. If it were the sea, you're sure it'd part red.

Dabi smirks, trapping you between his body and the cool, damp bricks. The mist from earlier rain seeps slowly into your hero suit, sending a violent chill down your spine. His other hand touches your hip, fingers grazing the fabric so faintly that it'd feel non-existent if it weren't for the heat radiating off them. You hitch your breath when his nose nudges your neck, his hot breath causes shivers and his eyes bore into your own with something mischievous.

"I-"

His lips ghost the skin of your neck and you subconsciously pull it taut, tilting your head to the side. You're beginning to hate how your body arches into his and how it reacts to the simplest of touches.

Like a brick to a window, your dissolve shattered easily.

Dabi quirks a brow, challenging you to continue as you sputter about. It's embarrassing. You can hear him say it now, just like so many times before: "Oh? A big hero like you getting flustered by a big bad villain like me? How cute."

Your walkie talkie comes alive with static and a voice cuts in asking for help to take down a gang of criminals a few cities over.

My saving grace.

"I-I have to go." You push him away by the shoulders with sudden confidence, but he doesn't seem to put up much resistance.

God, you want to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

He backs off and turns with an unbothered wave, proving his point that you wouldn't- couldn't touch him, much less win against him in any sort of battle. The untouchable.

"Until next time, right?"

———

It's like a new tide from the moon—how fast your feelings towards him change. He's awful. A criminal, a villain, a murderer. He's the literal icon of everything your against.. or of what you're supposed to be against.

But you understand him. You get his whys and you feel his emotion like you're apart of them. You empathize with him and it makes you so fucking angry at yourself because you know—as a hero—you should never side with a villain like him, no matter how much sense he starts to make.

Blame it on his tone and the smoothness of his words. He's just a swindler.

The next time isn't even a full week later. He technically protects you from some randoms in an alleyway and you catch him in the act of it all, turning to catch whoever was following you, only to be met with cold blue eyes and a pile of ashes in front of you.

Of course, it ultimately ends in the same place it always does; his bed.

His scent and touch linger a little too long after these meetings and you decide once again that this is the last time.

It's a real shame you have to blame it on his body heat and not the undeniable attraction you feel towards him. But you suppose that could count towards it.

His hands are anywhere—everywhere—and they leave a fire in their wake. It's too much and still not enough. All you want is to be closer. Fingers in his hair, pulling him into you until you can't, and then pulling him in more. It's like air, the way you breathe him in. When you finally give into dabi it no longer becomes a crime, but a necessity.

It's overbearing and messy and awful, but you can't help but slip into his embrace and into his warmth.

It's freezing and he's the sun.

Tangled in between cotton sheets, you feel him rub circles into your shoulder and you hear his heartbeat. It's reassuring to know someone like him even has one. Then again, he probably wouldn't have protected you if he didn't have one. How many times has he saved you from harm's way? Honestly, one time is too many.

It almost makes this fling of yours respectable. It almost makes you want to admit you're falling for that smug face and bad attitude.

"We talked about what we'd do if we ran into your league again, you know?"

Why on earth would you bring that up of all things, y/n?

He doesn't need to know anything about your career, much less your plans to take his team down.

"Hmm.. is that so?" Dabi's fingers move up to draw languid circles into your collarbone before shifting slightly to loom over you. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, sending a searing, but welcomed heat to the flesh. You hiss quietly at the sensation, already knowing there's a bruise forming from the activities not too long ago. His lips replace his hand on your neck and he removes his arm from under your head to hold himself up.

Your hand finds his messy hair, fingers delving into the raven locks and tugging gently as he makes his way to the column of your throat and to your ear. He nips at it, nose brushing against your jaw; his hot breath creating goosebumps that rise to your flesh.

"I like knowing you think of me when I'm not around, Angel."

The tone and raspiness of his voice makes you groan, feeling him kiss beneath your jaw. You just know he's smirking at the reactions he elicits from you because you can feel it. He enjoys watching your internal struggle. You can't act like you didn't choose to form whatever this is with him.

You tug his hair to look at him, bringing his face up and he almost looks annoyed that you disrupted his path heading down towards your chest. Your lips ghost over each other's and you lean in for a kiss, only for him to pull away and leave you chasing.

"I also like when you call my name."

Your hand falls from his hair to cup his jaw, practically pulling him forward into a kiss. It's rough to cover up the intimacy and need behind it. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip, thumb pressed into your stomach before his hand goes upward with an ulterior motive.

Pulling away from him before he can initiate anything more, you run your thumb across his lips and the silver bands that adore the lower half of his face. Surprisingly enough, it didn't take long to adjust to the different textures

"And I like how you kiss me."

This almost feels too domestic—not that you mind, but you're positive he knows you're wrapped around his finger, in the palm of his hand. It's impossible to hide it now. Your actions speak louder than the three words on the tip of your tongue, poisoning your mind.

It makes you cringe when you think about it all. How easily he can get into your head and twist your arm. Some nights you catch yourself thinking that maybe you'll be able to convince him to open his eyes a little wider to see your point of view, especially when you've begun to see his. They're horrible—the villains you go against, but he makes them seem so different. You hate how he makes you double think everything.

He playfully nips at your thumb when you push it gently between his lips, teasingly. His hands trail up your arms, pulling them off of him and above your head. You're the one who makes the move to intertwine fingers as he pushes them down harshly on the pillow underneath you. Insatiable. That's what he is. Is it so wrong to keep wanting more?

The sun beginning to rise over the horizon and spilling in through the window doesn't seem to stir him as he makes his descent from your lips.

You already know that by the next morning you'll hate him and that surrounds him. You'll hate yourself for listening to your heart instead of your head simply because it just 'feels so right.' It's a constant cycle between the two of you, and you're sure he feels the same. He doesn't agree with anything you stand by like a hero, but there's something that keeps him close enough.

There's only so much you can expect, even when you deny it over and over.

But god, you have to stop meeting like this.

77 notes · View notes

werezmastarbucks · 4 years

Text

Whitmore Guy - xenomorph

Whitmore Guy masterlist

word count: 3076

warnings: things get serious

Four days later Y/N decided she should visit Mal and see how he is. Lord knows how he’s going to cope with all this. Elena suggested, in a flare of her classical empathy stroke, to help out with compelling if they find out the guy’s not doing good. Y/N went chilly inside upon imagining a sociopath derived of feelings, forgetting why there’s a whole in his mind.

Before showing up on his doorstep, she dropped by at the shop and bought him some ice cream. She didn’t recall talking about ice cream with Mal, which was strange, but she put all her faith in that bubble gum flavor would do good. It was her favorite, and the two of them had it all similar, plus, Mal was really into chemical, artificial stuff to put in his mouth. A big bucket of bright blue frozen mass held neatly under her arms, she entered the block of flats and got to the fourth floor. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it swung open, so energetically, as usual, like there was a tornado behind it.

Mal let his scruff grow, and now he looked about five years older, and even more handsome. His hands still had dark small cuts from the debris of the table.

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed. Y/N eyed him carefully. The dude was wearing his jean jacket and sweatpants, and he looked smashing, but also, not pale enough. He didn’t even have swollen eyes or grey bruises around them. He looked perfectly healthy, mature, and happy to see her.

“Y/N, are you reading my mind?” he took the ice cream bucket from her and pushed the door, letting her in.

She entered his place with curiosity. Y/N hasn’t been inside yet; should she happen to give him a lift, she usually let him out of the car outside and drove away.

It was messy as hell, like a normal dude’s apartment. The only neatly organized space was kitchen, where all the cutting boards, knives and plates lay in their places, all the ketlery seemingly kept in one color palette.

His room, though, was an expression of his temper. Bed was full of candy packages, and his clothes, his pastel and black hoodies, jeans and t-shirts scattered around the floor. He wasn’t completely mental though: his jackets and coats were hung in the closet, on hangers. The big TV was on, prepped against the wall right opposite his bed; Netflix was paused indicating that he’s been watching Alien.

“This is perfect”, he puffed, pulling his jacket off and throwing in onto a chair. “I was just about to go out for the ice cream, and there you are, like a little fairy, granting my deepest desires”.

He crashed back on bed, his lively black eyes fixated on her. Y/N stood above it, unsure what to do.

“Are you doing okay, Mal?”

He opened his mouth, looking at her, while he lay in his bed, stomach up, like a cat.

“Yeah, what do you mean?”

Two seconds passed until a bulb lit up in the depths of his brain.

“Oh, yes, of course. Martha’s dead. Love of my life is gone and I will never see her again. But I’m fine”.

Y/N took off her leather jacket and threw it on the same chair, to pair it with Mal’s. Thing was, she didn’t mind mess much as long as it wasn’t completely biologically hazardous. Clean kitchen did that for her.

“Care to elaborate? How did you manage to cope with it in four days? I thought you’d need a lot of support, quite frankly”.

She put the bucket on the nighstand and opened it with her nails.

“Do you have a spoon?”

Mal looked down his bed and then put his arm under the pillow, looked around the room and finally spotted a spoon on the stand under the TV. Y/N took it and stabbed the stone-frozen blue stuff. She sat on the bed, thanking heavens that Mal thought to move to give her some space. He took the bucket from her and unpaused the movie.

“You’ve seen this?”

“You kidding?”

She prepped herself against the pillow and sat comfortably.

“I had such a big crush on Sigourney Weaver when it first came out…” there were traces of tenderness in Mal’s voice.

“Repeat that, slower”, Y/N eyed him as he took a spoonful in his mouth.

“Well, obviously, I mean when it came out, like, for me. Don’t pick on my words, I’m mourning”.

“You don’t look like you are”.

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute and bring me food, lady”, Mal shook his head slowly, never looking away from the TV. “Hold on, he’s gonna start feeding now”.

They both allowed all their concentration into the movie. To be honest, Y/N loved that one.

“I love him so much”, she whispered under her breath as the Xenomorph jumped down from the ceiling, sweeping a guy away so fast it was almost like when vampires did it.

“Yeah?” Mal smiled. “You want some?”

Y/N nodded and took the spoon.

“He’s fast, and he’s perfect. He never talks too much, he just feeds and kills, you know. Even Predators admitted that Aliens were the best hunting prey and that they had a kind of respect for them because how awesome they are. Look at him. He’s so stealthy and pitch black, he’s flawless”.

“You wanna fuck a Xenomorph?” he asked with uncertainty.

“I guess I like all things terrible”.

Mal nodded with understanding.

The plot went on as they were slowly consuming ice cream, like a couple of disgruntled schoolchildren, only, they were both way too adult to be dramatic.

“So, what have you been doing here these days?” Y/N took another swing at trying to open him up.

Mal sighed.

“You know, stuff. Cried a little, cooked, ate a lot, slept. Then I remembered our conversation about movies and how you once said that you watch stuff that makes you happy when you’re down”.

“So, you decided to go with Alien”.

“Nah, sorry, monster fucker, but cenobites are my all-time favorites. I started with Hellraiser, yesterday. Rewatched all parts”.

“Damn it”.

“What?”

“I should’ve come yesterday. What are you going to do now?”

“Uh, Alien franchise?” he eyed her with confusion as he shoved the spoon in his mouth. He was eating it like a bear, without even looking, like it was soup. Mal had incredible stomach for sure, made of titan or such.

“No, I mean, you’ll have to return to work eventually. And live on”.

“Come on, it’s been four days. Give me a break. Plus, I don’t have to return to work – I moved in here because of my girlfriend, and now she’s dead, so technically I don’t have to work”.

“Fair enough”.

Y/N shivered at the thought of never seeing him at the college again. After nearly two months of being as thick as thieves she couldn’t imagine going on completely alone in that madhouse.

Was it weird that Mal seemed so indifferent? Yes and no. Y/N learned not to question the weird long time ago. She was surrounded by them. She was just alarmed at what he might do or feel when it finally hits him that Martha is really gone.

She left it alone. Y/N slid down a little, shook her head negatively when Mal tried to feed her; by the end of the first part they were spread on the bed like two starfish. The second chapter of Ripley’s blood freezing adventures began at about Five PM, and Y/N only realized she was almost drifting away when her phone rang.

“Hey”, she hung from Mal’s bed and grabbed her phone. It was Damon.

“Is he alive?”

“Yep”.

“Is he raging?”

“No, everything’s fine”.

She looked around and looked at the guy; the bucket in his hands was half-empty. Her eyebrows went up.

“Although I think he’s a bit suicidal”.

“Cool, hit me up if anything”.

Damon hung up.

“Who was it?”

“Mal, you shouldn’t eat it all at once, you’ll poison yourself”.

“I’m fine. Was it Damon?”

Mal embraced his bucket in case she tries to pull it away from him.

“No”.

His eyes narrowed.

“Why are you lying?”

Y/N clicked her tongue, falling back and crossing her legs.

“Because I don’t want you to think about him”.

Mal stared at her, thinking about something. Y/N looked at the birth mark on his neck and thought to herself that she lost completely. She couldn’t resist it anymore, the urge to be close to him, to hear what he says, gain the little smiles as she mused out loud. Her inner guts warmed up as she looked at this young man, and there was nothing she could do about this unyielding attraction, about the sheer feeling of liberty she experienced under his testing glance.

“You wanna see her pictures?” he asked suddenly.

“I thought you deleted them all”.

“No, I wanted to do it, but…” he shrugged, “you know how it is, I got really soft over the years we’ve been together”.

Y/N ran her hand through her hair.

“Sure”.

He took his phone, putting the bucket between their thighs. Y/N tried to snatch it away, but Mal caught her wrist.

“I’m eating it”.

“Mal, it’s really bad for you”.

“I know what I’m doing, mum”.

The film was going on, but they leaned to each other, looking at the screen of his smartphone. Mal didn’t delete shit, she thought, and discovered, she was angry. For heaven’s sake, Y/N, she thought, the girl’s died four days ago.

“That’s us in Carolina. We rented a little house”.

Martha was standing in the kitchen in a pretty dress, much like one Y/N had herself. But then again, it was a very fashionable model one summer, so a lot of girls had it. Think rationally.

“You travelled a lot?”

“Yeah, well, mainly in America”.

“And you’re from Ohio?”

“Uh-huh”.

Y/N looked at their picture in which they were sitting on the bank of a river.

“Where is it?”

“New Orleans. She loved that city, Martha. Tried to get me to move in there”.

“She’s got a good taste. Architecture in New Orleans is amazing”.

“She was also very much into home interiors. You know, sinks, bath tubs. I’ve never met a person before, who’d be so interested in fucking acrylic”.

Y/N looked up and they met eyes. Mal looked very serious.

“She was also very kind. You couldn’t tell at first, people used to say she was wicked. But compared to me, she was an angel. Maybe not the most people’s person, but she sure was unique”.

He blinked slowly, and his gaze went blank. Uh-oh, Y/N gathered, there it goes. Well, her arms are attached and she’s capable of holding him for as long as he needed.

“Have you ever been in love so hard it annoyed the hell out of you?” he asked.

Y/N tried to think of all the times she has been in love. In truth, she didn’t fall for somebody too often and easily, and the way this black-eyed boy made her feel was rather unusual.

She’s been in love with her classmate, Ashton, for about seven years, in and out. Never approached him. Never let him know. It was a simple teenage crush, with all the teenage drama, while Ashton was dating other girls.

She’s been in love with Damon so helplessly, so fully, it was painful. There was a time in her life when she thought she never needed anything else, that she could grab the whole bunch of the planet and throw it away, just to be with him. But he was unreachable, unimaginable. He was a titan, and she was a girl in a brown dress. She loved him loyally and openly, and he never budged, because Damon Salvatore, to his honor, only loved one woman in his very long life. And it wasn’t Y/N.

“I’ve been hurt”, she said, “and I’ve been rejected, but not annoyed, I don’t think so”.

Mal nodded coyly, his straight thin nose diving down as he looked at his phone laying in her palm.

“I was never supposed to get into that trap. I’m not the kind of person who is capable of…” he winced, as if remembering something, “loving, caring, all the human things. That was always bad for me. I never even had the urge. And then it turned out she was crafted for me, and I hoped, I – for her. All the things I thought I knew were just crashed, my brain couldn’t even cope. You know, Martha had a stamina, because those first months we’ve got together for real I hurt her a lot”.

Y/N stiffened a little.

“I confused everything I felt. I wanted to hold her, and squeezed her so hard she had bruises. I had this eerie feeling like I was crumbling down in pieces, and then realized it was my guards falling down. She completely destroyed the portrait of the person I thought I was”.

“Who did you think you were?”

Mal looked at her and said in such a tone as if it was obvious,

“A mistake”.

There were people at some point so vile that they completely convinced this pretty boy that he was unwanted, that he was supposed to be unmade. How do you fuck your child up so bad? Y/N wanted to ask what mental issues his parents must have had, and then decided she didn’t have the emotional capacity for it.

She considered it a little and then put her hand on Mal’s head, covering his left ear with her palm.

“Look at them”.

They both turned to the screen. There stood a Xenomorph, its jet black skin glistening like oil, slender flexible limbs standing firmly, elongated head and exquisitely made spine, like a handle of a harp.

“He’s perfect. And so are you, Mal”.

He bit his lower lip and suddenly dropped his head, bursting into giggles.

His large hands encircled her waist and pulled her close. Mal smelled like ice cream, and his skin, having its own scent, was warm under his soft shirt. Y/N couldn’t fight him as he sat back on the pillows, cradling her in his arms and putting his chin onto the top of her head.

“I know, Y/N. Now I know, I’m just saying, there was a time when I really believed all that crap my dad fed me. But Martha came along and, grossly, saved my dirty, black, violent soul”.

She put her head on Mal’s shoulder and outstretched her legs, feeling so cozy it threatened to put her to sleep again. Mal sighed, and his chest went up and down, and she rolled her eyes, savoring these moments, because she knew she couldn’t keep going.

“But then, of course, Damon took my girlfriend away”, he added.

She sat up so harshly he lifted both his hands for a second.

“Mal. You know it was someone else, right? She attacked him, but somebody had turned her before, and compelled her to try and kill Damon”.

Mal did it again. A second ago he was as fluffy as a bear, and now there was poison in the very air he exhaled from his nostrils.

“But it was him who ripped her heart out of her chest, right? Or are you going to tell me I should ignore it, too, like I did with her parents?”

“We need to find that… vampire who’s behind all these killings first”.

“I don’t care about them”, Mal waved his hand, “people die every day. In packs. My girl and what Damon did to her – that’s my focus. Are you going to stop me?”

They looked at each other, worms stirring in Y/N’s belly.

“You really don’t understand what’s wrong with this plan, do you?”

“I really think you keep trying to protect him because you still have feelings for him”.

She fell back on the pillows with a swing – and ceiling swayed for a moment. She could feel Mal’s eyes following her, drilling into her face.

“I really don’t”.

“You’re lying to yourself”.

His voice was dry like sand. Then he took the bucket from the stand and continued to eat, as if nothing happened.

By the end of Aliens Y/N fell asleep and woke up again when it was already dark. Mal turned on a night shade, and was still watching movies.

She opened her eyes and adjusted them, staring into the TV while laying on her side. Having completely come to her senses, she sat up, causing Mal to turn his head to her.

“You really blacked out”, he said with deep admiration.

She rubbed her neck and face, feeling even heavier than before.

“Oh god, why did you let me sleep… how long has it been?”

“A movie and a half”.

“I have to go”.

“Okay”.

Her glance travelled around the room and stopped at the empty bucket.

“You mental patient”, she hissed, “you really wanna kill yourself?”

He just smirked.

She got up from the bed, stretching her limbs and back, and yawned.

“You know, I think I will return to work”, Mal said.

“That’s a good idea, Mal. You’ll keep busy and won’t have to think about anything”.

He nodded.

Mal didn’t get up to close the door after her, so she had to “just bang it harder” herself. As she left the building, the warm summer air started to put things in order in her mind.

She drove to her house and was standing in front of the mirror in her room in thirty minutes. Her hand lay on her throat as she was examining herself. She wasn’t going crazy, was she? She remembered putting on her necklace that morning, a pretty one, wrapping tightly around her neck. Now, it wasn’t on her desk, and it wasn’t on her, so? She took off her shirt and checked for any kinds of marks on her skin. There was nothing. All the things with Mal were so intense, so sexual and strange, she couldn’t put her mind to rest. She didn’t know why she didn’t phone him right away, and she didn’t know why she wouldn’t believe his deeply sad eyes even after he showed her their pictures with Martha.

She also didn’t remember ever telling him about the movies that make her feel happy.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker imagine #vampire diaries #legacies #whitmore guy

38 notes · View notes

sabineelectricheart · 3 years

Text

The Ochre Eagle

Summary: Ferdinand and Byleth have been maintaining a relationship for almost five years. When a letter arrives from Duke Aegir, decisions must be made.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 2300

Notes: Today’s supposed to be Ferdinand’s 859th birthday, I am to guess. That’s a lot, so it ought to warrant a fic, does it not?

Anyways, Gerusia is the name of the senatorial body in the Byzantine Empire. Since there is a ministry cabinet and so, a senate would also to be expected, right?

There was something beautiful about the Aegir coat of arms, which Byleth can admire whenever she looks at her ring finger. The same coat of arms that the letter that came along that morning bore on its seal.

The Imperial tetragrammatic cross, a one-headed eagle and the bugle horn of the Gerousia on its claws. For all her detachment and ignorance of worldly matters in Fódlan, she understood what all of those things meant and the weight they held over her.

Sometimes, when the young professor thought about her boyfriend of almost five years, she was reminded of the eagle and the bugle on that coat of arms.

Eagles are endemic in Fódlan only to the large forests within the mountainous northern Imperial lands, and it was an offence punishable by death to kill or maim a specimen within their borders. The bird was beautiful as it soared high in the air. Being the top of its food chain, it was also ferocious, swooping in and killing its prey in one bated breath.

Ferdinand was a lot like the eagle that adorned and symbolizes his homeland, the both beautiful and ferocious bird, and one that ought to fly so high in the sky that the land-dwellers may never reach it.

Byleth wonders, now, how she had ever let herself fall so completely for him, but then again, there always was something so freeing about his sunny smile, his amber eyes full of determination. She remembers with such clarity the first time she saw that smile directed at her.

*_*_*_*_*

“Hey! Professor, wait up!” A voice called for Byleth as she was leaving the classroom courtyard for the day.

The blue-haired woman whipped around, looking for the source of the voice, only to see Ferdinand von Aegir jogging after her.

“Ferdinand.” Byleth greeted succinctly but politely, as she raised her eyebrow at the young man, looking him over. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She could not deny that he was attractive and very well put together, but with his usually shorn hair overgrown, he looked a bit like the careless mercenaries on her father’s band.

The Moons were quickly passing them by on her first year as a professor. Her days were mostly unassuming and unremarkable ever since Byleth and Jeralt relocated to the monastery permanently.

“Well, I, uh, is this yours?” He held out a book on proper speech of High Imperial Fódlan.

That was funny. In all her time of classes with Ferdinand, Byleth had never known him to stumble over his words. The boy was always so confident, cheeky even, she cannot help but wonder whether he thinks he is shaming her by asking whether the volume belonged to her.

It did. As she mostly interacted with commoners and uneducated people, she was perfectly fluent in the lingua franca of the continent, the significantly simpler Low Imperial Fódlan. However, ever since she joined the Church, she felt the need to learn more refined varieties, especially the High Imperial, the default choice for Manuela and Hannemann.

“Yes, it is.” She bowed and held out her hand to take the book. “Thank you, Ferdinand. I have not yet realized I had misplaced it.”

“It was no trouble. You have returned many prized items to me these last few Moons.” He smiled softly at the memory, but then hardened his expression once more. “Are you struggling with your language skills?”

“I guess you could say that. The language I am used to is much more…” Byleth bounced her head, looking for the right word. “Well, less refined than just basic.”

Ferdinand snorted, looking down at his toes. He did not say anything. Byleth waited for him to speak but he just stood there, looking down.

“Ferdinand?” Byleth prompted, curious.

Ferdinand whipped his head up.

“I was just going to offer, as I was educated in High Imperial, if you might want a tutor?” Ferdinand said softly.

Byleth was thoroughly confused with the Ferdinand was acting. First, he stumbles over his words, and now one could say he looked bashful! Still, she really was awful with High Imperial, and of course she knew the nobleman’s son to be from the Empire, and therefore he must know the language well. Better than most, for all that matters.

“Yes, very well, I would really appreciate the help.” Byleth smiled up at him. “Are you available tomorrow, after the lunch bell?”

“Yeah, yeah, that works great!” Ferdinand grinned, bouncing up and down. “I apologise, but I am late for my duties at the stables. I must go.”

He looked one last time in her direction and walked back the way he came.

Byleth could only stand there, speechless. In all of the time she has known him, she could not remember ever seeing him smile like that. It left her breathless, standing like a fool in the middle of the promenade, staring after him.

*_*_*_*_*

Looking back on it now, it was much too clear to tell that he had just wanted to spend time with her. Get to know her, be her friend.

He never had that many friends in the monastery, Byleth knows. Ferdinand usually chose to spend his time with his so-called noble pursuits or working with the horses in the stables or the weapons at the armoury. It was rare indeed that he deigned himself with having tea with one of his classmates or decided to spar, and his choice was nine out of ten times Edelgard, the Princess Imperial.

Byleth reached their small cottage, a short walk off the Garreg Mach village. It was rather detached from the religious structure, but still within the monastery’s walls.

It has passed over eight Moons since Ferdinand suggested finding someplace where they could be themselves, away from the rules of the Church and the Imperial nobility. Together, they found this place, abandoned by the sands of time, uninhabited since times immemorial.

After graduation, Ferdinand had refused to return to Enbarr just yet, electing to remain in Garreg Mach, ostensibly to further his training with the Knights of Seiros and provide the Church with his service, as a form of a tithe from House Aegir. It was, of course, all a lie, as he merely wanted to stay with his girlfriend.

Alas, five years have passed, and the Duke was growing impatient. It was high time for Ferdinand to come back to take over the Aegir territory and wed a Hresvelg princess or a Bergliez lady. Though, he could not, as he was already engaged with Byleth, a commoner and former mercenary. It would not go well over at the Empire, and so Ferdinand stalls and stalls his father.

The tiny hovel was small and poor, the kind of place a Duke’s son would never set foot, much less live in, but it was theirs. It was Ferdinand’s boots by the door, his weapons scattered randomly, oil staining parts of the tapestry no matter how much either of them scrubbed. It was Byleth’s grey robe by the door, her favourite mug left on the counter from her morning coffee, hair ties left in every crevice of the couch.

The professor’s usually cool heart hurt looking around the room, and his smell suffocated her, leaving her more choked up than she already was. She looked at the sun out the window, she wagered that Ferdinand should be home, and squared her shoulders. She found him just where she knew he would be, hunched over his working table, fiddling with some strange and horribly rusted blade.

Byleth stood in the door, watching him, for what felt like an eternity. Taking in the pattern of his curls today, the way he bounced his knee, and the back of his shoulders as they rose and fell with each breath.

She knew that he knew she was there. He was well-trained in the martial arts, he must have heard her coming since she set foot on their small produce garden out front. He was a very talented warrior and noble. He was radiant, a glowing force that any man with the power of sight could have felt his imposing presence from a mile away.

All the more reason for Byleth to not be the one to dampen him.

After a while, or probably when he finished whatever he was doing, he placed his project down and stretched. If Byleth was not already feeling devastated, she might have laughed at just how many joints he popped with one movement.

It was a wonder that the former mercenary had managed to shield her feelings from him so well, knowing that he should have felt what was wrong the second he looked at her.

“Hi, angel, how was your day?” Ferdinand finally looked up, a smile softening his features.

The woman could say nothing, staying in the doorway looking away and in absolute silence.

“Byleth?” Ferdinand stood, slowly walking over to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in.

Just for a second, she told herself, you can indulge yourself in his embrace for only a second. Byleth steeled herself, forcing herself to pull away.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Ferdinand scrunched his eyebrows, staring down at her.

He was unnerved at how unresponsive she was, scared even. Wanting it all to be over, to be able to never have to do it again, the stoic woman prepared herself to speak.

“I think…” She paused to try to control her tone of voice, as to not betray her feelings. “I think we should stop.”

There they were, the words that had been controlling her all day, ever since she read that stupid letter from Duke Aegir, a letter that was not addressed to her, mind you, were finally out.

“Stop? Stop what?” Ferdinand’s voice was measured, his words were slow and tentative.

“This. Us” Byleth looked down, unable to look him in the eyes.

“Us. Us? Why? Why would you ever think that? What has happened? Have I done something?” He stuttered and starts to say whatever comes to mind in despair. “Byleth, you cannot just walk in and say that what is it!”

Frantically Ferdinand tried to catch her eyes, ducking his head down into her view. Byleth shook hard, doing everything she could to hold in her breakdown, despite her efforts, tears began to track down her cheeks. She took measured breaths, counting each one.

“I cannot be the one to hold you back.” Her voice cracked, more tears leaking through.

“Hold me back? Hold me back from what? You could never hold me back!” Ferdinand raised his voice but did not shout. “You have been, you are my professor. If anything, I am where I am because of you!”

“No, Ferdinand, you do not understand. You must return to the Empire, and you must do it alone. You have to and deserve to be the Prime Minister of them all, to have everything you have ever wanted, but I cannot go with you. It has been your goal for so long and I cannot take that away from you. I will not.” Byleth voice shook, but she was determined as ever, trying to just make him understand that this was for him. Not her.

“But I want you, not to be some… Some filthy noble! I want you!” He pleaded.

“Ferdinand, you still do not understand, your place is not at Garreg Mach, is at the Gerousia! My place is here in the monastery, teaching.” Byleth sobbed, backing away from him. “Your father is waiting for you. He has a betrothal contract for you to sign and a position for you to assume. You must arrive to Enbarr before the Moon changes.”

“No, my place is by your side!” He walked towards her, reaching for her.

She evaded his every attempt, solid in her decision and motives. This hovel is nowhere for a noble to live, and sooner or later he would realize that. It might be a little painful now, but if Duke Aegir makes do with his threat of disinheriting his oldest son, if he comes with a militia to punish them, it shall be much, much worse.

“Byleth, please, stop.” Ferdinand begged. “Come here, think about what you are saying. Let us talk about this.”

“There is nothing to talk about, Ferdinand. What I am doing is all for you, for your own good, and I will not reconsider.” She replied.

“The hell with my own good! I do not want this!” Ferdinand tried again, once more advancing.

Byleth shook her head and backed further away, towards the door. Taking a quick look around the room, she thought of every happy memory here. All the times they cuddled on the couch, the one Saint Cethleann Day they spent here, every moment.

Each called to her, and she longed to answer, to stay, but she could not.

Looking once more at Ferdinand, at his state of disarray. The tears in his eyes, his long and silk-soft ochre hair mussed from his hands, his body shaking. It broke her more than any of the words she said did.

“I am so sorry.” She cried, turning around for the final time, grabbing her robe and walking out of the door.

“Byleth! Byleth, wait!” Ferdinand lurched forward, desperately calling out for her.

His betrothed, however, was an agile warrior. By the time he reached the door, she was gone. He fell to his knees then and cried. Cried for Byleth, for their life, for the ring she left him on the dining table.

As Byleth walked away, hood drawn, she thought once again of the eagle. Free to soar high above, without anything shackling him to the ground. A force of nature, unbelievable, and so, so beautiful.

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #ferdinand von aegir

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nemesisadraste · 3 years

Text

Good Omens : What if Shadwell had never enter the bookshop that day?

This is a little OS fanfic im which Shadwell has accepted Madame Tracy's money and even went to Newt rescue with her. Therephore, he never went to Aziraphale bookshop resulting his entrance in the portal and the fire. So how does thing goes in this setting?

Aziraphale had just tells the Metatron he was on his way and called Crowley. He was really suprise about how Crowley ended the call saying "Not a good time I have a friend over." ... What did that mean? Why would he had friends over at a time like this when the world was ending in a few hours and he had planned to go to Alpha Century?... Were they really a friend? Was it a way to tell him he wasn't his friend anymore after the bandstand fight and his multiple refusal to go off with him? Was he in danger?... All those questions were running around his head and he needed an awnser... The only way to have them is to go check himself.

So he tooks Agnes book and he was on his way... But just as he was opening the door he reminds of the portal... It was still open. The angel couldn't possibly leave it that way unsupervise it could be dangerous. The only way for it to close was that someone or something with enough power went inside it and as there was no way he ever goes back to Heaven, he add to think of something else... Something like... Yes exactly this!

He took a piece of old paper and write something on it with an as old ink. Then he trows the paper in the portal. The energy of the portal shatter it in thousend of pieces but the message on it rest intact and arrive perfectly at it's destination :

Count me out.

Three little words. Probably he scariest he had ever write but it was a relief to finally express them. He was now on his own but that didn't matter. Cause for the first time he was free and for the first time he aknowledge he wasn't alone. Well... If Crowley could forgive him this time.

A few minutes later he was at the Demon's flat and he catch him on his way out. He didn't had the time to knock that the door opened to revels a familiar face

Crowley : Angel!

Aziraphale : Hello dear! Everything is allright? our last call was a bit strange to me... Hope I'm not actually disrupting a friends reunion...

Crowley : Oh that? No don't worry it was just Ligur and Hastur being their usual assholes selves I took care of them.

Aziraphale : What?! Hell sended them to get you?! Did they hurt you?! Hownyou allright?!

Crowley : Relax Angel everything is just fine. Ligur got a taste of the Holy water you gave me in 1967 and Hastur is having a blast in my message recorder tape.

Aziraphale : Oh... Ok... anyway I wanted to apologies, I lied to you about the Antechrist, I know where it is and it was so foolish of me cause you were absolutly there is no one to reach out to up there. She didn't even take my call I only had the Metatron and he is as pro armageddon than all the others Archangels, nothing else never mattered to them, not the humans, nor the earth, nor anything else in the whole creation... Nor even me, but thats not really a shocker.

Crowley : I'm sorry to hear that. All of that really matter to me though youvknow that right?

Aziraphale : Really? Even me? After all I did to you?

Crowley : Espetially you angel. You have nothing to apologise for I swear. In fact I'm the one who own you an apologie. I should have been more comprehensive of what you were getting trough... I putted you in probably the biggest loyalty conflict ever and then harass you to choose me and give up when I know how much this world mean to you... You're a guardian afterall... Very sorry for that.

Aziraphale : Well everything is tickety-boo now! After my chat with the Metatron I message Heaven to count me out so there is no conflict anymore. In fact I think that in my heart there never was. (He smile after the last line. It is the sweetest, the purest and the quickest smile to ever exist).

There is a pause after that as they both need to fully realise was that mean. What this whole conversation means.

Crowley : Does that mean you changed your mind for Alpha Century?

Aziraphale : Well no. At least not before we try something to stop all that!

Crowley : Ok... What do you suggest? He got his full powers now he won't be that easy to stop.

Aziraphale : I know someone who might have just what we need.

Crowley : Really who?

Aziraphale : Sergent Shadwell, he is the commander of the humans I told you about the...

Crowley : The witchfinder army?

Aziraphale : Yes you know them?

Crowley : Well yeah those are my guys too!

Aziraphale : Seriously?! What an odd coïncidence... Anyway let go see him. We have to be quick tough if we wanna be able to get out of London.

Crowley : What do you mean?

Aziraphale take Agnes book and opens it to prophecy 4781 and show it to Crowley. The prophecy says :

Prophecy 4781 On the final day when the home of the Big Ben will be 3 hours late of their noon appointements, a ring of evil fire will trap the old smoke in it's center. Thou can all thank the snake for that (ok the last sentence I'm not sure Agnes would actually write that I just wanted to add it for the fun lol 🤣)

Crowley : Shit, shit, shit I had totally forgot about the M25 thing... Shit!

Aziraphale : Well no time to stop this part now so we gotta hurry. We only have half an hour to go search for a weapon and go out of London.

Crowley : A weapon you mean...

Aziraphale : Exactly. We don't have other options now. Not if he decide to go on with it.

Crowley : Ok.

Aziraphale : What?

Crowley : Nothing I'm just suprise this comes from you.

Aziraphale : Yeah me too.

They take the Bentley (of curse) and go too Shadwell apartment but find it empty of it's occupant. They enter regardless (no time to wait) and take the weapon (the same they tok on the show I don't remember the name). When they are out they only got 10 minutes left before the M25 cast in fire so Aziraphale doesn't mind Crowley speed at all. He does miracle the Bentley to be gost like so he doesn't hit anything on the way. Crowley finds it funny and take advantage of it to show his angel how fast the Bentley can really go and he is extremly happy about it. When they finnaly go out he break as a reflex after all the adrenaline and thats when the fire rings light up. Crowley looks back and say :

Crowley : Wow... It worked! Shit... You imagine being stuck in this like an idiot? 🤣🤣🤣

Crowley starts driving again and they arrive in Taddefield american airbase in advance for Armageddon despite having to ask directions to a nice old man. The Horsepeople are already there, but not the Them. Not the Antechrist.

Aziraphale was going to talk to the security guard who was waithing for their explanations when suddently the Bentley cast in fire and explode to ashes and everyone turns to look at the pile of burning metals.

Crowley : MY CAR!!!!!... 90 years without a single crash and now this!!! How?! What?! Who?!

An evil form gets out of the shadow smiling better than it never had. With it's hidious dark grey-green raincoat and a literraly frog on his head he was immediatly recognisable.

Crowley : Hastur. How was your time in my message tape?

Hastur : Not fun. But not as not fun as will be the rest of your existance. (He add this while smiling even better, eviler) Hell will...

Security guard (shacking, affraid and unconfident just like in the show) : Ok all of you stay right where you are and put your hands in the air! I will call backups and they'll take care of you! In the mean time if you dare move I swear I'll shoot you! Starting by you red hair guy with the explosive car!

Hastur had no time for humans bullshit and cast the human to a painfull instant combustion in the horrored eyes of the angel and the other demon. The frog then return to the matter that had him here to begin with.

Hastur : I hate to be interrupted... Now where was I... Oh yeah! Hell will not forgive, Hell will not forget and you know it Crawly. The great war and our victory won't clear your record. From now on the only being to interact with you will be me and trust me it won't be the pleasent kind of interractions for you I'll make sure of that.

Crowley : Oh I trust you on that all right... Come get me then.

He had said that provocativly and was now slowly stepping back has Hastur was slowly stepping foward, his eyes lock with his preys'' waiting for the moment to strike. Aziraphale was between them and he steps in the way to block Hastur's path.

Hastur : Stay out of this sunshine this is an Hellish matter. Your time will come soon enough.

Aziraphale : Is it really? An Hellish matter Inkean cause I am very suprise that your boss sended two of their dukes to catch a renegate so close to armageddon... Aren't you suppose to get your plattons ready for the fight right now?

Hastur : Well,... Yes but Michaël called Ligur to tell us about Crowley not being trustworthy and we never liked the guy so we took the initiative to go catch him before he do more damage. It was a buissness initiative but now he destroyed Ligur wih Holy water right in front of me, trap me in his stupid machine and nownI'm seeing him with you, an angel! So this is personnal.

Aziraphale : A secret personnal initiative?... Oh dear.. I don't know how things work down there but if an angel had did that kind of initiative so close to armageddon they would be in a lot of trouble... Espetially if that said initiative had cause the lost of one of their greatest warrior... I don't think they could ever leave that unpunished... But if Hell is cool with that...

Hastur (laughing badly) : You think you can scare me that way? 🤣 I'm not stupid! Inknow hownHell work sweetie. And the is that if I don't even get this traitor snake back as an apologie present that things will be bad for me. So good try, but now move!

Aziraphale : Or what?

Hastur cast a fireball in his hand and show it to the angel as a reminder : What he did to the human, he could do it to the angel.

Aziraphale : Oh please, thats all you got?

Aziraphale open his wings and "power up" (hope I am clear here 😅) resulting in the extinction of Hastur Fireball. This time it was Hastur who back away as Aziraphale step foward.

Aziraphale : My previous logic wasn't scary enough, ok... How about this one : (his voice was deeper, stronger, but always stays clam) If you back in Hell right now without Crowley and take your position as you should have never leave it to begin with, you migth not be that badly hurt. I mean Before Heaven cruchs you all of curse. Am I clear?

Hastur (Terrified but tried to hide it) : I guess this can wait after the war... I'll go now but Crowley, don't think it mean you'll get out of it cause when we'll won, you'll see that the Universe is not that big compare to the eternity I'll have to find you treat you has you deserve!

On those enlighting words, Hastur sink down to Hell and Aziraphale release a relief breath. Not that he had been scare of Hastur, no. He was releave that he didn't had to actually hurt him for him to go. He hated display of violence and would never do any unless extreme necessity.

Crowley (he had run to his angel sides) : Angel you're allright?

Aziraphale : Of curse dear. I'm a Principality and he a Duke of Hell. In a one/one combat based on brut power he didn't stand a chance against me. He is not stupid he knows it too thats why he left when he saw he couldn't scare me.

Crowley : Sure thing. He's right though, I can't get out of it... If your lot win they gonna chase me down cause they want to destroy all demons, if we stop armageddon for happening Hastur and probably other demons will also chase me down to punish me and if my lot win, they will alo chase you for being an angel. There is no alternative where I'm left alone.

Aziraphale : Yes thats true. But either way I'll be with you. We'll be together. I won't let you alone in this. And I know you won't leave me alone either. So let go in there and see how things turns out cause I'm extremly tire to play "guess what will happen if..." all the time.

Crowley : Angel... Sorry but I can't help it...

Crowley rushs into Aziraphales' arms and hug him for the first time ever. Aziraphale was shock for a second but then he took his wings that was still out and cover his dearest demon in it as a shelter and a promise : He will always be there for him.

The hug was interrupted by the arrival of the Them who enter in the airbase. After that everything that happened is exactly as the show... Or is it?

#Good Omens #Fanfiction #OS #please be indulgent this is like a draft 😅#hope you enjoy #what if?

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phantom-god-suki · 4 years

Text

Precautionary Elegance

Chatter filled the ballroom as more people arrived at the gathering. Every noble in Nightmare was there to either socialize in leisure or with hopes of improving their social image. The elegant dress you were wearing was a bit too pricey for your liking, but at least it accentuated your curves quite nicely. Kaim had to drag you around town all day to find ‘the perfect dress’ for the occasion. On top of that, you were forced to wear this damned corset that made breathing unbearable. However, beauty is pain so you supposed it was worth it. As you observe the ballroom, your eyes unconsciously trailed to the sunshine haired outcast that everyone seems to alienate.

You smile as you see him happily chatting to the lord of the Angels and King, Lucia. After repeating the same cycle for an eternity, he was finally able to liberate you both from the curse. Now that you have your memories back from other timelines, you felt just a tad bit closer to him. No matter how much you tried to be with him though, he always pushed you away. You feel a presence behind you and turn around.

“You will age faster if you keep glaring like that.” A green demon chuckles as he approaches.

“You don't say. Why are you even here Mefy?” You suck your teeth and roll your eyes at him.

“Fine by me hag but if you get old then how am I going to blame you for my pranks?” Mefy muses.

“Oh please. I’ll be a cool granny. Don't you ever think I can't keep up with you. Plus if I'm older than you, you'll have to listen to me for once.” As you were chatting with your frenemy you felt a pair of eyes on you. Mefy notices this and leans into your ear.

“Wanna make your crush jealous?” He whispers.

“You know this won't work...” You lean in and whisper back. “He said he loves me but lately he has been avoiding me.”

“...There's a word for that you know.” Mefy smirks.

“Don't you dare say it!” You hit him playfully.

“There might be a way for you to… motivate him” You can see the gears turning in his head as a sly smirk spreads across his face. You can guess what he was planning but was it fair to Lucas? What if he didn’t want you? Doubts in your head started swallowing you.

“Sulking about it wont do you any good. You have to take a risk at some point.” You can tell he was getting impatient.

“You're planning something, aren't you?”

“Always. Now come on.” He giggles as he grabs your hand and drags you to the balcony away from prying eyes, especially Lucas’.

The cool evening air grazed your skin as you stepped onto the balcony. It was nice to take a breather from over ambitious nobles and all the court drama for a while. The balcony reminded you of some unpleasant memories but you decided to stay on point.

“Ok what's up Mefy? Why did you drag me all the way here?” You said.

Mefy takes out a vile of potion from his many hidden pockets. It was kind of ridiculous how many items he had with him at all times. It's like he had a warehouse in his pockets but considering his magical abilities it might not be far from the truth.

“See this thing? It's a love potion.” He smirks.

“Love… potion…?” You give him a look of suspicion.

“What's with that look? You don't trust me?” He asks in a sickly sweet voice.

“Fuck no.”

“Aww come on. Have I ever lied to you?” He says as you remember when he used you in alternate timelines.

“Literally all the time but okay. Ugh just give me this ‘love potion’.”

“Sure. But you owe me a BIG favor, got it?” Mefy skips away and you sigh, wondering if this was a good idea or not.

You had a basic understanding of potions from living in Nightmare for a while and all your alternate memories. They’re not any different from drugs in the human world. You hid the vial of potion in your sleeve before you entered the ballroom. What you are about to do is really not fair and Lucas does deserve better but so do you. You were sick of being pushed away and not getting any answers from him. Desperate times require desperate measures.

You walk to the drink fountain and grab two drinks for Lucas and yourself. You carefully pour the liquid into Lucas’ drink. You were scared for a moment that the contents in the vile would change the color of the wine but luckily that didn't happen. With both drinks in your hand you seek out Lucas. You find him at the food table eating a cupcake.

“Hey Lucas,” You approach him like a predator stalks her unsuspecting prey. “I got you a drink.” You smile sweetly.

“Oh thank you Y/N.” He smiles forcefully. You're not sure if it's that he is tired or pissed that you were with Mefy a couple moments ago. He tends to get awfully protective of you whenever you get close to Mefy or Ricardo. And you can understand why though.

“Ever since you became the advisor I never got a chance to talk to you. I missed you a lot you know.”

“I'm sorry it's been really stressful lately. Not all nobles are happy with the decisions that Lucia made.” He says as he takes a sip. Bingo. You get a surge of arousal just by looking at his neck and collarbones. He was a model in your eyes.

“Y/N?” His question snaps you back to reality.

“Sorry, I couldn't hear that part.” You answer sheepishly.

“I was just saying if we could go somewhere else. It's really stuffy here.”

With that you started following Lucas through many many identicals hallways the castle had. You reached out and grabbed his hand nonchalantly.

“So where are we heading?” You can a sharp inhale escape from Lucas’ mouth.

“Planetarium. So we could get a breather. I'm so sick of the nobles but don't tell them that” He winks.

The planetarium was huge. In fact, huge was an understatement. Above you was a dome shaped glass that made the stars seem bigger than they actually are. By the time you arrive you can hear the subtle huffing coming from Lucas. You ignore it and stare up at the sky.

“They are beautiful.” You say looking up at the constellations.

“Yes… they are..” He replies while looking at you. Lucas was really warm. He had a cute blush on his face already. The potion was working wonderfully.

“Did I take your breath away Lucas? You are blushing” You nudge his side smirk.

“O-oh it’s just a little warm in here that's all haha.” He shyly averts his gaze.

Both of you sit at the bench in the planetarium and talk about your daily lives as if nothing was wrong. You decide to make a move and scoot a little closer to him until you can feel his warmth but he moves away. You get closer again and he moves away once again until he has nowhere else to move on the bench.

You put your arms around his shoulders.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing?” He whimpers pathetically. You lean to his ear and whisper.

“I missed you Lucas. You never pay visits anymore.”

“I-Im sorry it's just Lucia and the nobles-” He shudders and takes a sharp breath as you lick his ear.

“That's no excuse Lucas~” You got him where you wanted. It's like he was under your love spell. Well he is under the potions influence literally. You sit on his lap so he can't escape. Not this time. The games end tonight whether it ends in your favor or not.

Lucas wraps his arms around you. Poor Lucas you thought. It was bitchy of you to do this but the look on his face was delicious. Droopy eyes, face red as a tomato, winded. You barely touched him and he was wrecked already.

“Do you love me Lucas?” You whisper against his lips.

“I do… more than anything…” The way he was rocking his hips sent shivers up your spine. This is all you’ve ever wanted. Him between your legs… where he belonged.

“Prove it baby…” You murmured. His eyes were glossed with a dark, desperate and lustrous look. He was very motivated as Mefy would say. Even though there was no one but you in the planetarium, this was a public space.

‘What if someone walks in on you. Maybe this wasn't the right time-’ He worried to himself.

His thought process comes to a halt when you roughly grab his hair and slammed your lips against his. You can feel a deep shiver run through him. The taste of his lips were sweet probably by the cupcake he was sampling earlier. He let out soft whimpers and pulled your body closer to him as he was easing up. If only he was inside of you… You started removing his clothes and revealed his pale skin.

“W-Wait! What if someone hears-”

“Then we'll just have to be really quiet.” You smile at him. “Let me help you”

You got up from Lucas’ lap and easily stripped of your evening gown to reveal lacy lingerie. Lucas gasps and covers his face.

“Lucas… I want you to look at me…” With that you started touching yourself sensually and swaying your body to an imaginary song. Lucas was looking at you from the gap between his fingers. The damn corset was limiting your movements to an extent but it wasn’t so bad. You grab the strap of your bra and let it slide over your shoulders. You then toss the undergarment onto the ground in a whimsical manner. His eyes wander around your body before fixating on your chest. “Oops.” you say cheekily as if you accidentally dropped your bra. In a single gracious movement, you bend over, pretending to pick up your bra. You can feel his gaze on your ass intensify as you begin to peel off your panties in front of him and show how excited he made you. It seemed like Lucas forgot how to breathe after seeing your little stunt. You sit on his lap again and grind yourself against his thigh.

“This is what you do to me Lucas...” You moan. With shaky hands he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. It's like you were made out of glass and he was afraid of breaking you. You grab his hands and put them on your breast.

“Touch me…” You say before resuming the kiss. He was a lot more eager to please you. Lucas started massaging your soft breasts while kissing you hungrily. You quickly unzip his pants and pull down his underwear to reveal his erection. Just looking at it his member makes your mouth water. A slight glistening on the tip of his cock suggests how aroused he already is. When you grab it and give it a jerk, Lucas can't help but moan loudly against your lips. You break the kiss.

“Ah ah ah Lucas... You need to be quiet or we'll get caught...” You tease him.

“It feels s-so good.. I can't stop it…” He stutters softly.

“Well I did say I would help you…” Lucas squealed in shock when you stuff your panties in his mouth. The taste of your juices spread on his tongue and muffled moans emerged from his throat as his lips pursed over your panties. You resumed stroking his manhood as Lucas threw his head back in pleasure and exposed his neck. It was too tempting not to mark him like this. You pepper his neck with kisses before focusing on a certain area to mark. His body convulsed in pain and pleasure when you sank your teeth into his soft flesh. You tasted a slight tang of iron as you broke the skin. His cock started tensing up in your grip signaling his inevitable release. Lucas trembled when his orgasm hit him like a train. He spurts his hot load all over your chest and corset. You remove your panties from his mouth so he could breathe easier. The advisor took a big gulp of air as he tried to compose himself. You then bring your fingers to your lips and taste him while looking intensely at Lucas.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself” You teased.

“Y/N… why..?” He whimpered shakily. “Of all of them… why me..?” Tears welled in his eyes. The sound of his sorrowing echoed through the planetarium's walls. Your blood ran cold for a second. What was he referring to? Does he hate you now?

“L-Lucas?”

“I'm not like you!.. I'm not even like them. All my life, I’ve had a single purpose. To save Nightmare...I wasn't meant to have you...” He says while breaking down. You breathe a sigh of relief while tears of sorrow run down his cheeks.

Lucas tensed up when you embraced him. “I know but.. It's not like that anymore. We saved this world. Together. Now we can be free.” You kiss his tears then softly kiss his lips. This kiss was more passionate than all the rest. You left little pecks on his lips before slipping in your tongue. He kisses you back almost immediately while his hands explore every crevice of your body.

“Lucas please… I want you in me…” You whimpered. He takes you by surprise when he lifts your hips and slams you down his cock, filing you to the hilt, stretching you. Lucas waited for you to get adjusted to his girth for a moment. “God you feel amazing… so warm and tight... “ Lucas growls against your ear.

After getting used to his size you started grinding your hips against his. Lucas was still somewhat sensitive from his previous orgasm but he didnt care. Pleasure was consuming his mind, throwing all the reason from the window. Both of you were trying to hold back your moans but with each thrust it was getting more difficult. Then suddenly you found your back on the bench. Lucas was on top of you, looking at you with an intense expression.

“Even though I still feel like I don’t deserve you, I am going to cherish you with all of my heart.” He softly smiles and kisses your cheek before starting to move. As soon as he thrusts inside, you wrap your arms around his body and dig your nails into his back.

“Fuck...Lucas...your huge cock feels so good inside of my tight pussy.” Lucas clenches his teeth and starts to move faster. He leans down to suck on your nipples. He licks one nipple while flicking the other one with his fingers.

“Princess… You are doing so great… I love you so much.” He moves faster while lifting up his head to place soft kisses on your neck and lets out small moans. You shiver every time you hear his beautiful moans on your body. It didn't take long for you to reach the edge of climax.

“Lucas...please...more. I’m gonna cum.” You feel drool running down your cheek. Lucas licks your cheek and leans into your ear.

“Come for me then.” You whimper and melt with his words. You can’t hold back anymore and cum. His pace became erratic and you could hear the low growls in his throat become louder and louder. He is about to pull out but you lock your legs around him and pull him closer gently.

“It’s okay Lucas...You can come inside.” He smiles and lets out a loud groan before releasing inside of you. He collapses on top of you and hugs your shaking body.

“Y/N...Are you alright? Are you hurting anywhere? ” Lucas breathes into your neck and leaves a light kiss.

“I… I’m okay Lucas. I love you. Please never say that you don't deserve me.” You lean into Lucas’ head and stroke his hair.

“Alright Y/N. Thank you so much for accepting me… I love you so much.” You can hear a little sniffle as he nods his head. “Can you stand up? Let me help you.”

“I can stand but i don’t think I can walk properly after such a performance.” Lucas blushes at your words and helps you stand. He grabs your dress and helps you put it on. He then sits you down while he gets dressed.

“You're so handsome… It makes me want seconds~” You smirk as you stand up by yourself.

“Just wait till I get you in bed then. I won't be holding back.” He chuckles as you reach over and smack his ass. His back jolts up and he turns to get revenge but you are already wobbling away. He smiles and walks slowly behind you to admire the stars for just a little longer. You make your way back to the hall and feel an arm wrap around you. You look to see Lucas smiling softly at you. You both enter the hall holding each other. You look around before seeing Mefy at the drink table sipping wine. He spots you and smirks while lifting his glass. You chuckle while Lucas looks at you genuinely confused.

“What is up with that little gremlin?” He squint his eyes and whispers to you.

“Ahh nothing honey, he's just being dumb~” You laugh his comment off.

“What else is new.” Lucas rolls his eyes while grabbing you closer and pulling you in for another kiss before saying.

“I can't wait for tonight.”

#nightmare harem

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 3 years

Text

11. This is Fucked Up

Who. Did. This. Null. Think. He. Was?

Xander had every intention of simply observing, recording, collecting, submitting. And waiting for Grace’s approval… But, even through the course of knowing that this particular potential X… No.. this confirmed X; Xander somehow convinced himself that perhaps Grace had actually simply found someone who could safely and comfortably accompany her baggage. He wanted to be wrong, even though he had known that he was right.

This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up. This is fucked up.

“I can explain,” Simon said. His Adam’s apple bobbed and his eyes were wide. The arrogance from earlier seemed long gone and with this realization, Xander was as cold and hard as steel.

“The fact that you even believe that there is some type of way that you ever could explain this makes me morbidly curious. Please, explain to me why you have an entire man cave of stalker paraphernalia on the single most important person in my entire life. Explain to me a scenario in which me finding that you have cameras set up in my sister’s home doesn’t end in your death. Make me, a feral child with a little hair dye and a cool kid’s outfit, react in a civilized way to you marking my family as prey.”

“Not prey…”

“I’ve been doing things like this for years. I know how the mind of somebody like this works. You don’t watch someone this way unless it's to seek out details to give you an advantage over them. There's no person who does this for reasons other than power and/or predation.”

“Protection,” Simon said. “I did this to try to protect her. You weren’t there with her…” Xander flinched for a moment. “She was trying to do everything on her own. She lost Heath. She los…”

“You don’t get to speak about him like you knew him.” Simon silenced himself. Xander began to pace, slowly, assessing the storage room, but keeping his distance. “He told me about when you stopped into the flower shop. You called Grace by a label that I know she never would have told you. I knew then that you were suspicious, but I never thought that you were like this!” He gestured his pinky around the room, absolutely horrified to see so much of Grace’s face in one place… in this place. This box with pictures and products and everything appeared to be either her image or something pertaining to her. “This is disturbing , Simon. Even to me, and I once stabbed off a man’s genitals with a serrated blade…” Xander watched for a reaction to that.

Simon hardly showed any, but he was definitely uncomfortable. Still, that wasn't the response of someone who was afraid… It was the response of someone who was… plotting. Simon shifted. Xander warned him, “Stay where you are. If you come near me, I will kill you, and judging by your non-reaction to what I said, I think you know that I’m more than capable of it.”

“Capable, definitely. But… I don’t think that you’re that reckless.” Xander raised an eyebrow. Nobody had ever accused him of not being reckless before. This had to be another one of Simon's lies... “Sure, you’re impulsive and you have very little self preservation, but you know as well as I do that I matter to Grace," Simon couldn't help but to smirk about that. "I don’t think that you’d take that away from her. She’s already lost so much. That’s why you’re even talking to me right now instead of stuffing me in a bag and throwing me in the van.”

Xander’s nostrils flared. Simon was smart. Arguably, the most book smart person that Xander had ever met, personally. He might be able to trip him up if he said too much. Regardless, Xander knew that he was right about this . Grace had already taken his side in the swing of things, as far as Xander believed, by even having him hold this space in her world, undeserved…

Simon casually leaned back on his table and held on to it. “Let me ask you this, Xander. Has Grace ever allowed you to hurt anybody who didn’t hurt anybody, or do you all hunt down every potential danger in the city?” Xander flinched. The O’s. If he couldn’t prove that Simon was dangerous… she would be upset with him, but she wouldn’t let Xander kill him, even if it was obvious that he was a threat! Xander’s breath hardened and Simon’s arrogance returned. “I didn’t think so. Because, she isn’t some sadist searching for victims like Dexter to fulfill a bloodlust. She’s an avenging angel. Everyone she kills has hurt people and that is why she hurts them. She doesn’t even like to do it. She just thinks that she has to…”

“Is that something that she told you, or something that you stole from her?”

“It’s something that I understand, because I know her better than anybody ever has…” Simon said, stepping forward.

“Fuck you. STAY!”

“I want to show you something. Something that I collected in secret before I decided to do this…” Simon slowly moved, with his hands where Xander could see them to retrieve something. Xander snatched photos from his hand and stepped back. “When Jalicia was grieving, because Heath died and you nosedived… Grace came over for an alibi and fell asleep.” Xander was flipping through photos of bruises on her body. He felt dirty for even having seen them, because she was sleeping and Simon obviously took these without her permission, and guilty, because that never would have happened if he hadn’t slipped up. Xander flung them and they slapped Simon in the face. He let them fall to the ground. “I was worried that one of those times, she might get hit harder than she could stand. She needed someone else, because nobody else was there for her.”

“You really think that I’m naive. I know what you’re doing. You think that you can make me feel guilty for being sick and unavailable to Grace and make me think that this is why you needed to do this… but all you’re doing is making me see why it has to be me that handles you. She won’t be able to do it, because I left her exposed to the elements and you poisoned her. She’ll be hurt at first. She’ll be angry that I took away her favorite new thing. She’ll be hurt that you wasn’t what she thought… But, she’ll be safe, and I care more about that than I do her having a tantrum over losing you.”

“You want to add to the list of names that she cries out in her sleep?” Simon asked.

Xander had flashes of Grace through the years. That was precisely what she did. At 12, when he met her, she whimpered in her sleep for kids that were even right next to her in bunks, dreaming about the things she’d seen them go through. Of course she still did this. There were so many names. So many losses. If she loved them, she’d probably lose them. All she had left was her Apex survivors. And Simon?

Xander fumed and rushed forward. How dare he try to use Grace’s pain to save himself! He didn’t care about her! He just wanted to… do SOMETHING to her that Xander wasn’t sure of, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let him. He tackled Simon to the concrete and Simon bumped his head on the table as they knocked it over. It caught Simon completely off guard. He was on guard, because it was a stressful time and still caught off guard. He tried to get away, but Xander pulled him into a chokehold and wrapped his legs around him. Elbowing Xander only made him punch Simon extremely hard in the ribs and gut.

Simon began to pat him down, panicked, but still thinking. This dude was… sort of impressive, Xander noted, until Simon found what he needed. Xander’s syringe. Xander tried to get it from him with one hand and keep him choked with the other arm, but that gave Simon enough room to unseal it and stab him in the arm with it. Xander flailed for a moment, but he managed to sputter out. “You can’t do anything, Simon. You’re… still… fucked…” He was disoriented whenever Simon got up and looked at him, on the floor, trying to move away.

Of course, Xander was absolutely right. Simon couldn’t kill him! He wasn’t sure that he had the stomach to kill anybody, not even somebody who hated him as much as Xander clearly did, but this was Grace’s… there wasn’t even an accurate word for what he was to her. Brother, best friend, hell even soulmate seemed so pale in comparison to whatever it was that they had going on… Not in a romantic way, but in a... ugh symbiotic way, in which he didn’t think that Grace was any more capable of living without Xander than he was without her. Hurting Simon would have hurt her, but hurting Xander? That would kill her. She would kill him, probably.

Whatever they gave their victims to knock them out was doing it’s job with Xander. Simon checked him for his phone. It wasn’t on him, so probably in his vehicle, if he even brought it along at all. Simon grabbed his gun. The last thing he needed was Xander to wake up and find it somehow. He looked around. He’d have to figure something out. Did he want to try to throw Xander in his trunk? Tie him up here? He searched for something to tie him up… he didn’t have anything. At least nobody could ever accuse him of being prepared to abduct. He improvised, with Xander’s overshirt. That wouldn’t hold him for long, but it might help a little. He grabbed a few things that he valued and put them in his trunk. He didn’t believe he had the time or the room in his car to grab the surveillance equipment, but he at least unplugged it all.

He shut the storage and left to go meet up with Grace. He was crying, but at least Xander couldn’t warn her that he was coming. But, he had to determine what he was going to do about him.

He holstered his gun and pulled his hoodie over himself. He just… was on edge, felt unsafe, didn’t know WHAT to think or do… He paced for a little bit outside of her apartments before daring to go knock on the door.

She flung it open, looked relieved, and hugged him tightly, “Simon! You’re okay…” He wrapped his arms around her, positive that this was probably his last time to do so. Once she found out about Xander, his world might come crashing down.

Then he saw her. That girl with the bomb on her neck and it finally hit him where he recognized her from. He’d seen her on Xander’s social media months ago whenever he was trying to find out more about Grace. She was in on this… Was Grace? D id Grace know Xander had found him out? Did she send him? She cupped his face and kissed him quickly on the lips. “You’re safe.” He shivered and she wiped his tears, “It’s okay. Come on…” She led him in and the tattooed lady folded her arms and stared at him. “I think you’ve met my friend, Alexandria.” Grace covered her face with her hands, then took Simon’s into hers. “You’ve been super patient with me through a lot of questionable shit, but I know, with what happened earlier, that you’re probably so tired of me and my mess…”

“That’s not..” he shook his head. “It.”

“Where is Xander?” Alexandria asked.

Grace was so consumed by the thought of her friends breaking into Simon’s home and potentially hurting him that she got distracted. But, Simon turned pale whenever asked that, so she immediately tensed up and stared at him. “He’ll be here shortly… He was following him, right?”

Alexandria showed Grace her phone. The picture mail from Xander was of Simon opening a storage unit and being inside of it and the caption, “747: Gonna engage the X” Now, Grace and her both looked at Simon. “Redness on his neck, little blood on the side of his face. Xander engaged with the X.” She jumped up and rushed at him, “What did you do?”

Grace quickly slid between them and held her at bay. “I’ll handle this, please have a seat.” She turned around and studied Simon’s visible signs of a struggle and smiled softly at him, “Hey. Xander can be scary. He’s not very big, but he makes up for it in other ways. He’s tough, and he’s always been a fighter. If a fight occurred, I would imagine that somebody who isn’t very used to hand to hand combat might panic and try to defend themselves however they could, so… What did you do?” Her voice was calm, but her heart was racing and beating in her ears as her face was red and tears burned to escape the stronghold of her ducts. She was on fire, worried about why Simon might be so pale at the mention of Xander. Was Xander somewhere with head trauma, bleeding out while Simon found the courage to put it into words?? She didn’t want to alarm him and make it harder to find her friend, but she also was the most unsettled that she had been in a long time.

Simon nodded, “I defended myself. He.. He had a syringe, but I was able to get to it and I stuck him with it.” Both women sighed with relief. Simon started crying.

“Hey… Mon Beau Petit,” it sounded so pretty in her voice, and she was smiling, relieved that her symbiotic other was still alive as she touched Simon’s chin. “Can you take us to him?” He wasn’t bleeding out, but the tranquilizers in his system probably would make him sick, especially having recently detoxed.

“I locked him in my storage closet.”

“Okay, then we won’t have to search for him. But, let's just get to him so that I can make sure he’s okay, and I’ll keep them away from you and then… you’ll never have to worry about us again. I’ll leave you out of this mess. I just have to get Xander returned safely to me, okay?”

Simon sniffled, “You don’t understand. The reason he was trying to attack me…”

“Let’s… get to him first, okay? Please?” He nodded.

In the car, he tried to explain to Grace what happened. “Do you remember whenever I told you that I follow people?” Alexandria tilted her head, surprised by hearing this interesting tidbit. Grace blushed. She didn’t want to speak about that in front of someone else, but Simon kept going. “I thought maybe you realized. There were definitely moments where I said to myself, she knows. She has to. You must have sensed it, at least… Xander did. He sensed what was happening and he got suspicious and he came after me because I was watching you…”

Grace sputtered some air through her lips and cracked her fingers, “This isn’t really the time.”

“It has to be, because whenever we reach Xander, he’s gonna have the floor. I have to tell you now!” He sounded very urgent and Alexandria was already reaching for her butterfly knife.

“Stand down,” Grace said, not even looking at her. Then to Simon, “Listen… I know that you and Xander were fighting for a reason and I love Xander very much, but I don’t always side with him. I just think we need to get to him, then we can…”

“I did it to you!” There was a lengthy silence in the car. Whenever he finally stopped, in the lot of a storage company, he added on, “Xander found proof that I did it to you and he knew that wasn’t enough, so he was going to kill me and I… I didn’t want to die… I don’t want to die.”

“You aren’t going to die, Simon,” she said, but she felt like she had been gutted. Of course she knew… There was always a little sign that he knew too much. But, he was harmless. If Xander wanted to kill him, she just… there had to be more to it than this…

They could hear him before they reached the unit. He was throwing things and yelling. “Let him out!” Grace said. Simon unlocked the pad and opened the storage.

Xander was ready to lunge, but he saw them first. “Grace!” He hugged her tightly and then whimpered, “Xandria.” Simon stepped into the storage container. Xander had made quite a mark. So many things were tossed around… months of research and fixation…

“Simon… what is that?” Grace wondered, pointing the monitors. Her home, the inside of her car, her locker at work??? “Simon…?” Xander had plugged them back in and didn’t damage them… of all the things that he had taken his frustrations out on.

“I… just… needed…” She backed away. He stopped. Damage had been done.

Her lip was quivering and she was still holding on to Xander, who was sobbing, mid panic attack, yet still zoned out from the tranquilizers. She didn’t want to let go of him. He was clean, and now he had chemicals in his system, along with being locked up for however long he was conscious, the fear that maybe Simon had gone to find Grace and hurt her and surrounded by… what Grace could only think of as a room of horrors. Her photos, artwork, partial figures… he even had what appeared to be a mannequin or a life sized doll… and she didn’t want to let Simon out of her sight or be in his presence, simultaneously.

“X confirmed,” Xander whimpered, over and over. “X confirmed. X confirmed…”

“Shhh shhh shhh…” She strummed his hair and guided him over to Alexandria. “Take him home. Don’t… say anything to the others, yet. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured at Simon.

“By yourself?” Alexandria wondered, looking at Simon. He didn’t look like much, but he was a little bit larger than Grace and he had somehow gotten the drop on Xan, of all people. Xander wasn’t able to fight right now and did need to be brought to safety, but she didn’t know about leaving Grace alone, especially getting a look into this storage room.

“Yeah. Simon, toss me your car keys.” He bit his lip, and obeyed. “I’m gonna take his car and I’ll um… I’ll be okay.”

“No, Grace! He’s an X.”

“Who has he hurt, Xander? What child did he attack? What person has he abused or killed or did anything to?”

“This… This is fucked up, Grace, look at this!” Xander said, shaking Alexandria off of him. “You’re gonna give him an O? You’ll make him an O instead??? You trusted him, the first person you trusted and he violated that trust.” He began whispering to her, but everyone could still hear him, “You know how much damage I’ve been able to do with my reconnaissance… He’s doing what I do to perps, but to YOU. And his budget and his system is massive. You can’t let this stalker walk.”

And after that, he knew that he knew how to do Xander’s job, and do it better.

In the moment, he was more concerned by what Grace thought. Would she kill him for this? Surely not. That wasn’t the woman that he had come to know. Under all of the things that she made herself into, there was this precious woman who was soft and caring...

“He told me who he was, Xan. This is… This doesn’t feel good, but you can’t X him over it…” Simon smiled at the fact that she wasn’t willing to kill him. He didn’t like that she didn’t feel good, but presently, it pleased him more that she hadn’t dismissed him outright. So, he reflexively let out a pleased little chuckle and Xander broke free from her, determined he would take Simon out right then and there.

He wasn’t cohesive enough, but he still had pretty good form to punch (albeit not as hard as usual), and he managed to get him to the ground where… a gun fell off of him… Grace kicked it aside and Xander laughed, vindicated as his best friend actually crumbled before them. “You have a GUN?” Grace asked. “I’ve never seen you with a gun before, Simon…” her eyes were wide, shocked, frightened.

“I have a license…” He began to pick himself up from the ground.

“But… Why… did you bring your gun to see me ?” she asked in a small voice, already crying, holding her arms out for the sky to drop an answer into them. Her face showed him she’d deduced an answer on her own.

He shook his head, “No. No. I wasn’t gonna… I would never hurt you, Grace! All I’ve wanted to do since I’ve met you is know you and love you! Why do you think I’ve never turned you in? You think that I wouldn’t do my research? I know what you’ve been doing. I don’t know where they vanish to, but I’m guessing it’s someplace for the dead.” He laughed nervously, but came too close, so that she flinched when he neared her and he froze… He shook his head. Why would she flinch? Why didn’t she understand that he wouldn’t hurt her? “Have I ever done anything but support and comfort you? Grace… My Doll…”

“Don’t.” She was crying, now and her eyes couldn’t manage to stay still as they retraced every thought of every interaction that they ever had. She shook her head, “Oh my God… I was never even a person to you, was I?”

“A person? Grace… People are disgusting... animals! They’re scum that prey on others and harm them. You’re someone who cleanses the world of such filth… So, no… You’re no person. You were always more than that and I just needed to BE with you!” He took a swallow and said, “I didn’t want it to come to this. I tried to be close to you organically and you pushed me away every time it felt too good, because you just couldn’t believe that anybody could adore the real you. You MADE me do this!”

“808, stay on the O,” Grace said. Her voice was cold, but he saw in her face that it hurt her to walk away from him. Alexandria picked up his gun and whipped out her knife.

“Grace, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just upset. Please don’t…” He tried to follow her.

“I can injure an O,” Alexandria said, pointing the gun at him as Grace and Xander got into Simon’s car. Simon pulled out his phone, but she slapped it from his hand. “Are you trying to make me kill you? Because, I really don’t like to do that. Not like this, anyway. An explosion or a fire, yeah. I hate getting blood on me. It’s hard to clean off and the smell makes me gag. But, behind them, you’d better believe that I will.”

He smirked and raised his hands, “I understand. She has that effect on people.”

“Come here…” She grabbed him and shoved him towards Xander’s car, popped the trunk and said, “Get in.”

“Are you going to kill me?” He seemed numb as he asked it.

“Grace said not to, so no. But, I’ve gotta make sure that you don’t get anywhere near her. So, hop in or I take out your limbs and throw you in.” She almost felt bad for him. Grace had just walked away from him and she obviously mattered a lot to the dude. But, he also was an enemy.

“That sounds unpleasant,” he said and climbed in. “What do you usually do to O’s?”

“Usually they don’t know we exist. We wait for them to fuck up to get the proof to bump them up to an X.”

“Grace doesn’t like to kill harmless people,” he said.

“We saw children die before they ever had the chance to even know who they were. You don’t kill innocents, then you’re no better than the nulls that we kill.”

“No matter what I did to get close to her, she was never going to let me into her world, was she?”

Alexandria sighed and stuck his gun into one of her pockets and zipped it up. She kept the knife brandished though. “Why would you want to be? Xan looked you up. You had academic trophies and shit. You were writing books as a child. You’re famous to people who give a fuck about books. Your mom loves you. You’ve got a sister or something. You get to speak on panels at conventions or go to them and play dress up, and that’s something you appear to love, and with people you have things in common with. Why was it so important to you to be…” she gestured at the storage with her blade, “This close to somebody like Grace?” ‘ I wish I never met these people,’ She didn’t add.

He crossed his hands over his belly and wrapped his fingers in each other. “Have you ever watched something die?”

She scoffed, “You know what we’re about. I’ve seen plenty of “somethings” die.”

“Then, you know how it is at the end of their lives. They fight. They move. They do anything to stay alive one moment longer. Even if it hurts. Even if it only kills them faster. Survival mode has been initiated and they will not stop until they recover from even the sense of death, or until they die…” He shut his eyes and began thinking about the pain in Grace’s when he first met her. “Seeing Grace live was a lot like watching something die. Always in survival mode, even if it hurt, even if it could kill her faster. With most situations, when you’re watching something die… you want to do something about that. You don’t just want to watch it die. Sometimes, you just can’t help. But, sometimes… they let you get close enough to take them in and patch them up and see them through.” He let out a sad chuckle. “She left survival mode when she was with me. She knew that I was there to help and to heal her.”

Alexandria had tears in her eyes and she turned her face towards the moon. “That’s not really love, though. I mean, it’s nice or whatever, in certain cases, but if the only reason that you wanted to be with her was so that you could save her, that’s some self important bullshit and only serves your ego.”

“Only?” He sat up, but she didn’t get alarmed. He adjusted, and sat next to her. “Yes, it felt really good to know that I had been given access to her, but you saw how she was with me… have you ever seen her that way with anyone? Xander thinks he helped her but he’s the person who sees you helping and comes along and says, “Leave them alone. They don’t need help”… Then you both just watch them die…”

“Man… What. Even are these metaphors of?”

“That one was about the bird that Paul Levchefsky said was fine and told me that if I touched it, its mom wouldn’t want it anymore. It died. Paul just continued playing at recess, and there was a dead bird near my action figures that had just died because I didn’t do anything to save it…”

“In Paul’s defense, if you were young enough for recess, you totally couldn’t save that damn bird on your own. They have like… bird doctor specialists or something.”

“I watched a lot of shows and documentaries on animal habitats and wildlife rescue whenever I was a kid and I was very smart. I could have at least tried, if he hadn’t interfered.” She shrugged her shoulders. Simon kept talking, “I was fixated on those shows for years. I remember seeing certain scenes where the cameras would be filming something being mauled to death, crying out while being ripped to shreds…”

“In a wildlife rescue show?” She asked, laughing.

“What? No… two different… Animal habitat shows AND wildlife rescue shows…”

“Shit, I was gonna say…”

“We are so off topic…” he did notice that she wasn’t holding her knife as tightly.

“Doesn’t matter. We have nowhere to be at the moment. We can chill and talk about Grace… and animals being ripped to shreds, apparently.”

Back to his point, “The cameras recorded for us. We were able to see these things. My mom would be like, ‘Why would you want to see something like this?’ and the truth was I didn’t. I hated seeing animals die. I hated seeing it, but it was nature. It was for their survival. I’d just ask her, ‘Why would anybody want to record it?’ They recorded it because they wanted those of us who weren’t in the wild to know how it was. It was allegedly educational. They’d have a British guy explaining what you already were seeing with your own eyes, just in case you couldn’t comprehend why everything was so brutal and why you couldn’t turn away. People are similar. I’ve been watching people for a long time. They’re interesting to a certain degree. But, despite what reality television series would have us believe, if you looked at people’s lives, there’s not much to be interested in over an extended period of time. The only people that we want to see is one with a story that gives us that feeling that we get when we watch animals in the wild.”

“Are you comparing Grace to a wild animal?”

“I’m comparing mankind to wild animals. Grace is... something else. There’s never been something in the wild like her before. She’s seen what animals do to each other and she’s stepped in on their behalf. She’s like a saint…” Alexandria stared at him, looking at this zealous passion in his eyes as he marvelled over Grace and how wonderful she was. He didn’t know her like she knew her. Grace was definitely the Queen Bee, but Saint was absolutely stretching the truth.

He laughed again, “St. Catherine… You know… I think I know which St. Catherine she chose her last name for.” Alexandria looked uncomfortable. “St. Catherine of Alexandria!” He cheered. She didn’t seem phased by this discovery of his. “The patron saint of… philosophers and scholars? Grace loves reading, has a Messiah complex and a friend named Alexandria…”

“She wasn’t thinking of me whenever she named herself that. It’s just a coincidence. Definitely probably the… scholar thing, or whatever you said. She does think she’s so smart. But, if she’s so smart, how did she let you get this close?”

He smirked, “Almost seems like she wanted me there, huh?” He shrugged his shoulders and laid in the trunk again. Alexandria had all but put her knife away. She was thinking about that one statement. Out of everything else this man said, (and he could talk a lot), that was the one that wouldn’t leave her mind, even as he spouted out all of the facts that he remembered from when he read up on St. Catherine of Alexandria (to predict why Grace chose that last name. Hell, she could have just chosen from a list or something!)

But… for her to not notice that Simon was watching her so closely… IF she didn’t want him there, that meant that she maybe was in those last moments, before death. She was weakened or dimmed, somehow. She… was potentially a threat to herself and the operation and most likely a liability… Xan would NEVER hear that. Not about his Grace, and look at the mess she’d gotten him into tonight! He’s got tranqs in his system. As a recovering addict, was having a full blown meltdown and really believed that this guy needed to go to the Field of Nulls. The problem was that usually, neither of them were wrong. Xander made mistakes, but was rarely wrong. Grace didn’t usually make mistakes, but had obviously made one this time, unless the throwaway comment was accurate and she wanted this from Simon… Alexandria was vexed, and Simon was STILL talking

Simon’s car was in the driveway whenever Alexandria let him out of Xander’s trunk at home. “She’s gone.” He sighed. “I’m going to find her, you know. I’m never going to let her go.”

“That’s not my problem,” Alexandria knew that when it came to that, Xander would definitely make it hers. In order to make it hers in less time, she wouldn’t mention that little comment to him.

“It was nice to meet you.”

“As a hostage?”

“I didn’t consider myself a hostage. We were in fellowship. Discussing Grace.”

“I don’t worship her.”

“Then why do you do everything that you do for her?” She furrowed her eyebrows and he nodded, “You do it for him. He’s got a girlfriend though. At least, they seem… cozy…” He saw her eyebrow twitching. “Of course, you know that. You’re all a close knit group of friends. That’s precisely why Grace was all alone whenever he was incapacitated...”

“Until next time, marked O. Be careful.”

“Same to you, 808…” She clenched her fists and took off walking down the hill of his driveway.

It had never been used, so she broke it in with housewarming, even though she didn’t want to be there long. Her friends all came. Xander complained the entire time that with that O out there, they were foolish to come to her safehouse in Canada. But, she was both confident that she had no sign of this place anywhere that Simon would have had access to, and she was lonely.

Xander didn’t want Alexandria to come. He told Grace that he feared that she had been compromised while keeping Simon away from her while she got away. To not start an argument, she simply let it go. She and Alexandria were once very close, but they hadn’t been lately. They’d always all be Apex, but 808 had left them for a time, too… Grace wasn’t worried. Xander was taking care of things. “Training someone to do Heath and Jalicia’s work isn’t easy. Heath’s not here to show his system and…” he looked over at Jalicia, who may have been asleep or not, with a cowboy hat resting on her face. “I don’t like to bother her. It’s still all too much, I think.”

“I have a responsibility to help everyone that I said I would help. So… I’ll see what I can do. I still have plenty of shady contacts from back in the day...”

“We can’t trust them. We can only trust us.”

“Well, according to you, we can’t even do that. Alexandria was “compromised?”

“Well… She’s been behaving oddly. Like she has ideas that she didn’t have before. I know he tried to get into her mind, like he tried to get into mine… like he…” He began to fasten and unfasten the velcro on his shoes.

“Like he got into mine?”

“She did have one point… There’s no way that you’re both on your A game and didn’t realize what you were dealing with. I think he played every angle that he learned from watching you to make you vulnerable… So, maybe it’s good that you took this vacation. You can even work from here…”

She blinked away tears. “I’m all alone here. I hate being alone. Alone is when the monsters get to you.”

“Hey. What did we say whenever I had to be in rehab? It’s not forever, just ‘til it’s better.”

“There was a building full of people there. I’m off the grid and far from home.”

“Let me deal with him, and then you could come back.”

She raised an eyebrow, “I can come back any time I please.”

“Of course you can.” He felt embarrassed. “I only meant… I don’t think it’s safe.”

“What’s he been doing?”

“I’m making sure he’s not able to reach out to you… Unless that’s not why you’re asking?”

She felt hot, “He was a soft spot, Xan. Somewhere that I could rest my head and just breathe for a little bit. That was taken away from me, and I’m sorry that I haven’t bounced back in a matter of days.”

“I watched you bounce back in a few minutes after your first beheading.”

“That was before I realized that monsters are people like us… I thought a steward was some type of dragon. They’re all people. Horrible people… but people. Simon wasn’t a horrible person. He did something that I never thought anybody could do… he made me feel like I loved him, and it was different than how I love you. It was different than how I love Mom and Dad. It was… I felt like he was in my system… in my bloodstream.”

“That was fucking oxytocin.” She bursted into tears and he chuckled too, even though he was serious.

She leaned on him and gave him a hug. “No. This is oxytocin. That was something else.”

“Whatever it was… you don’t need it.”

“No. Whatever it was, I didn’t know I needed it… and now, I do.” She grabbed her phone and went online. “I want so badly to check his pages. Then, I wonder, does that make me a hypocrite? I got so mad…”

“That he placed cameras in your personal spaces without your permission. He could have cyber stalked you all day and night for all I care. But, I wasn’t going to allow him to do that .” He could tell from her face that she was about to justify things and take up for him. She had been back and forth with this for the past few days. Reminding them that he didn’t actually hurt anyone, confessing that she told him that stalking wasn't even that bad (one time), and regretting walking away from him and fleeing town...“Remember that he showed up with a gun.” She nodded. That was always the reality check. He did show up with a gun. Why? If not to harm or threaten her? And just seeing a gun (sometimes just in media) gave her a visceral alarm. The red flags were drenched in blood and she didn’t want it to be her blood. She had too much work left to do, after this little staycation. She had to let Simon go the way that she had to let everyone else that she loved and lost go.

The storage room went up in flames the day that Grace found out about it. Simon tried to salvage what he could and had the storage insurance, but the things that couldn’t be - certain recordings and photos that he no longer had access to, with Grace blocking him and blotting him out! He was trying to be sensible about things. It was a volatile situation. He knew that, but he just couldn’t believe that she was going to stay angry about this. The things that she had been through in her life, and this was where she chose to draw a line? Of course, he was grateful that she hadn’t allowed him to be killed. He truly feared for his life whenever he saw Xander Helstrom.

That was why whenever he was trailing Grace’s friends, if Xander ever appeared, Simon quickly caught ghost. He knew that he had at least warmed Alexandria up a little bit whenever they talked. She didn’t have friends outside of this group (like most of them), but the difference was… she wasn’t really friends with them, either. She felt more like a trauma bonded obligatory participant than like one of Grace’s other inner circle acolytes. The ones that he needed to work on were those other two ladies.

He rented an apartment to rebuild his… research facility, and fortunately for him, he knew where an apartment had just been vacated, and he also had the money to get it immediately, telling the renter that he needed it too urgently to wait until they cleaned it out, so he would just do so and was willing to sign a waiver stating such… Grace left a lot behind. Nothing about the organization, of course, but just other things. Whenever you were related to people like the Monroes, you didn’t really need to hold on to things. She took what mattered to her. She hadn’t left behind anything that might be sentimental, but her furniture, many of her clothes, and stuff like bedding, towels, etc were still there… Simon searched through everything and… nothing that he had ever given her was there. “She took me with her…” Or she threw you in the trash…

He set up anew in the space and didn’t get rid of any of her old things, either, though he moved much of it around to clear a room for all of the things he needed.

Simon read several “tips” on hacking, talked to Tulip and some of his computer nerd associates. Hypothetical questions… you would expect them to only be able to go so far, but for the most part, a few laughed about his “nefarious plans” with the information and kept talking but several didn’t seem bothered at all. They’d ask, “What project are you working on?” and depending on how well he knew them, he might say, “I’ve been trying to look up an old friend who I heard moved away, but I’ve lost her info, or research for a story.” Either way, the only person who seemed bothered was Tulip, and he’d tried to be as vague as possible with her.

“I told you not to come to me with anything else crazy.”

“How is this crazy? I’m just trying to figure out what systems this guy used and in what way!”

“Well, this guy, whoever he is, was doing some pretty sad work and honestly, if someone were to try to track him down, they’d find exactly what they were looking for… A lot of spying on a lot of people, people… who it looks like have VANISHED, Simon.”

"WAIT. So, this hacker wasn't even good at what he was doing?"

"He wasn't wonderful… I mean the cops probably wouldn't catch him but hopefully the FBI or CIA or something would. I say those because there are dozens of missing people in this man's computer. Simon… I told you not to…"

"Tulip, listen to me. This is very important, okay? It's life or death."

"Dear God…"

"I need you to give me that information and tell me how I would be able to defend against somebody doing what you're doing right now."

"Simon. Is this for that woman? Grace? Your mom told my mom that you're "seeing someone" named Grace. I thought it was odd, because of the information we discussed before and…"

"This is a dead person's computer. What he has on it is why he's dead."

"You promised, Simon. This is really unfair…"

"Life or death, Tulip. Could be mine, could be somebody else's…"

She looked at the first figure that Simon ever made her, of one of her first video game characters and whispered, "This is the last time that you get to do something like this. I feel manipulated and I don't appreciate that this is potentially dangerous to you or anyone else!"

"I'm sorry, Tools… I had nobody else. You're my only friend and I just happened to be lucky enough to have you be the best at this kinda stuff." She was there, because he heard her sigh repeatedly as she thought about it. “I’m really in love with her. She found out about me looking into her and she felt betrayed.”

“She’s justified in that.”

“And now, she’s out there alone, and people like those on that list, the ones who vanished… I know that you’re in the process of researching them… They’re bad people. They would hurt her. I just want to protect her.”

“I would ask if you’ve been disappearing these guys, since I obviously don’t know you at all… but the timeline isn’t right. They’ve been disappearing since before you ever looked into her,” she groaned, “Why on Earth could you not have mediocre white man first world problems? I don’t want to cross the mafia because you want to… whatever it is that you’re doing with these people… I… What is happening to them? Do you at least know that?”

“Thankfully, I don’t. I wouldn’t want to have to give you any more madness. But, from what I understand, Grace is helping to take down a child trafficking ring.”

“Taking them down, alright.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“We all say stuff like, “I’d like to get rid of them all!” but… None of us actually do it, most of us don’t actually want to do it, and all of us should not do it. We just don’t know enough. What if they’ve done nothing wrong?”

“They all have.”

“But how do you know, Simon? Did you see them? Were you there when they did it? Was it real, or was it an interpretation of scared children? There’s just so many variables, and with the types of proof that your dead source came up with… why not just turn these people in? Why do they have to vanish in order to handle them?”

“Look up Washington’s laws on these things and see for yourself.”

She sighed again but it was a different type. “10 years does not seem like a lot of time for trafficking.”

“And it would have to be proven, beyond a reasonable doubt. I just had to convince my closest friend that I’m not working for the Seattle mafia, if that is even a goddamn thing.” She chuckled. “I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate you, and especially this mess from this year. I never should have involved you. But… your tuition is paid up!”

“Therapy is next, Buddy.”

“Send me the bill. It’s done. I PROMISE promise.”

And after that, he knew how to do Heath’s job, and do it better.

Whenever he first went to Heath Farmer’s home, it was indecent. He knew two things at the time. One - that he was killed on the night that Grace first asked him to lie for her and her friends and two - that he seemed to be where Grace picked up the paperwork. So, whenever Jalicia was having a moving out garage sale, Simon stopped by to give Grace a cupcake, look around, and phish his computer on the sly. He found out soon that Jalicia had been Heath’s long time girlfriend, and also that he eventually planned to marry her. Heath’s computer was like a shrine to her. Her photos were backgrounds and there were folders of them and she was in his calendar a lot and… They LIVED together. Why did he need this calendar? What was important was that Heath left a lot for Simon to work with.

This woman was young. She wasn’t even old enough to drink yet, but apparently was really great at games and puzzles…

There were photos of her gaming (Simon knew to try to find out what games and what her handles were online), photos of her putting puzzles together, finished products, several of those puzzle books in their home, and Simon wondered if she ever put this little gift into play for Grace. How might she have contributed? What did she do for work, he wondered… Not that it mattered for this project, as Heath Farmer’s work didn’t have much to do with his job for Grace and these people, but he was curious, all the same.

Alexandria Jones was not a threat. He knew how to do Xander’s job. He knew how to do Heath’s job. He pinned up two photos of his next studies. Jalicia Barrett (227) and Sunetra Kincade (1000). He placed a sticky note on the corner of hers: Xander’s GF? Destroy that.

12. On Your Side

#AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics #People Watching

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goingoverthegardenwall · 5 years

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Chapter 8: Babes in the Wood

In this last hurrah of explicit homages to animation of the past, the most obvious discussion point is Merrie Melodies and its ilk: Babes in the Wood is essentially a full-episode reference to the bouncing musical shorts of yore, where everything can sing’n’dance and the villain is a blustery bozo who’s defeated with a sight gag. If we expand to children’s entertainment in general, as we did with Greg’s Beatrix Potter episode, then The Wizard of Oz is our logical next step: the song welcoming him to Cloud City owes everything to Dorothy’s introduction to Munchkinland, complete with the fact that our hero has just entered a dream.

And look, there’s nothing wrong with talking about the obvious. But as we near the end, I think it’s a little more interesting to instead explore the very beginning. So let’s go back to a newspaper cartoonist in New York—the one who inspired fellow New York newspaper cartoonist John Randolph Bray to become an animator, which in turn led fellow New York newspaper cartoonist Max Fleischer to become an animator, because it turns out that just like the birth of superhero comics a few decades later, the birth of American animation hinged on print artists who dreamed big in the city that never sleeps.

A boy named Zenas was born in Michigan on September 26, 1871. Or maybe he was born there in 1869. Or maybe he was born in Canada in 1867. He said one thing, and a biographer said another, and census data says another, and I wasn’t there. It’s similarly unclear when or why he started going by his middle name, but by the time he took his first job at age 21 (or 19 or 17) as a billboard and poster artist in Chicago, he was calling himself Winsor McCay. They sure did know how to name ‘em in the 19th century.

McCay began his newspaper career as a freelancer, but moved to New York in 1903 to work for the New York Herald, where he wrote a variety of comics before hitting it big with Little Sammy Sneeze. McCay’s art was always brilliant, but his gag work was formulaic to a fault: the joke for Sammy Sneeze was always the same, he would sneeze and ruin everything right before the last panel. That devotion to formula would continue in his second big comic Dream of the Rarebit Fiend, where a fantastical events would occur for ever-changing characters before the lead woke up in the last panel, revealing it was a dream.

That second formula was the basis of McCay’s masterpiece. Already a successful cartoonist in the two short years since he’d moved to New York, his fame skyrocketed with Little Nemo in Slumberland, which used the same “wake up at the end” formula but with recurring characters and a running story. He toyed with the medium like none had before, playing with panel arrangement and innovating the portrayal of motion in comics, and his art skills only improved with this full-color strip. His success led to the vaudeville circuit, where he turned the act of drawing into a performance, and this combination of stage entertainment and his continuing comic work led him to seek new ways to dazzle the crowds.

By 1910, the earliest animated shorts had already started to emerge, and McCay was inspired by pioneers like James Stuart Blackton and Émile Cohl to try animating the characters of Little Nemo. Under Blackton’s direction, McCay singlehandedly drew around four thousand fully colored frames to produce his first animated cartoon, presented at the tail end of a filmed short about said cartoon in 1911. As mentioned, animated shorts were already a thing. But none of them looked anything like this. (If you’re concerned that there might be racist caricatures in it, don’t worry, there definitely are, McCay had a lot of strengths but overcoming garbage prejudices was not one of them).

The sheer quality of his work, continuing with the legendary Gertie the Dinosaur, directly led to the invention of the rotoscope as a means to mass-produce cartoons of similar finesse. The influence of Winsor McCay over animation as we know it is hard to overstate (and let’s stress again that this was his side gig, and he was just as influential over comic art): as crazy as it sounds, it’s safe to say that Over the Garden Wall would not exist if not for a story about the whimsical adventures of a little boy who traveled across a land of dreams from his bed.

“Where’s Greg, Wirt?”

Babes in the Wood is delightful and goofy and lighthearted exactly once.

In the same way our fourth-to-last episode mirrored our fourth, this third-to-last episode mirrors our third: Chapters 4 and 7 focus on Wirt, but 3 and 8 are Greg’s. It’s not simply a matter of who the main character is, but what these episodes are about: Greg’s love of fun clashing with his drive to help others. Both times he's spurred by the desire to help others to go off on his own, both times he gets distracted by whimsical wonders involving funny animals and physical humor, and both times he ends up deciding to help out anyway. But despite switching his goal from making the whole world a better place to just helping his brother, the stakes are actually far higher now, so the fun has to be that much more fun if we want the full horror of the ending to sink in.

There’s no tonal shift in the series that’s more devastating than Greg falling prey to the Beast after nearly ten minutes of goofiness in Cloud City. It turns a moment of welcome relief from the growing tension of Wirt’s despair into a dagger in the heart, and the knife is twisted when we learn in our next episode what the Unknown truly is.

That despair is evident well before Wirt explicitly gives up. We get our second opening in a row featuring Beatrice in a hopeless search, and things aren’t much better for the boys. All sense of progression from the first episode feels lost, with Wirt reverting to mumbling poetry and Greg reverting to Rock Facts. Their boat is an outhouse and Greg uses a guitar as an oar, because (if you’ll pardon my French) they’re up shit creek without a paddle. When they land, Greg’s victorious bugle is a ridiculous sign of hope, but he soon drops it in the same way he abandons the guitar: in Schooltown Follies he takes instruments to help others, but this time he loses them.

Wirt’s frustration with Greg threatened to boil over in The Ringing of the Bell, only to be cooled when the Woodsman interrupts them. This time there’s no such interruption, so after Greg’s total failure to read the room gets to be too much, his brother finally snaps. It crucially isn’t entirely unjustified, as Greg’s antics might be funny to us but have not been appreciated by Wirt, and despite Greg’s age excusing his lack of emotional intelligence, it’s still gotta be frustrating for a teen to deal with that behavior nonstop. And Wirt’s “tirade” reflects his depression, because he doesn’t even seem that angry: he doesn’t shout or rave, he’s just openly irritated as he argues that they’ll be lost forever. This is apathy and fatigue, because he’s lost the energy to be furious.

But the most chilling part of the exchange isn’t Wirt cruelly blaming Greg for their mess, or abandoning their search. It’s when, after Wirt asks if they can give up, Greg responds with a chipper “You can do anything if you set your mind to it!”, a sentiment that the Beast will fiendishly repeat verbatim while tricking Greg. It’s such a generic positive expression that Greg hangs a lampshade on it, but it shows the darker side of the power our minds have over our well-being. Sure, it’s a great lesson that focus and dedication can help us achieve our dreams, but if we use that focus and dedication towards self-destructive behavior, there’s no limit to how badly we can hurt ourselves.

After a goofy sort of prayer (incorporating lines from the classic Trick or Treat poem, which will become super relevant an episode from now), Greg is whisked away by so-creepy-it’s-funny cherubim to the score of a so-overwrought-it’s-funny song. His flight aboard the bed/cart pulled by a donkey across the sky feels legitimately magical, but we soon switch to the surreal world of 1930′s songs and physics.

Cloud City is such a stark contrast to the tone of the episode so far that it instantly feels delightful, and such a stark contrast to the tone of the entire series that it lends a special sort of wonder to Greg’s dreamland. References to old cartoons are everywhere in Over the Garden Wall, and before we delve into the tension of our last two episodes, we get one last gigantic celebration of the past with a sequence straight from the golden age of animation.

The transition alone is enough to make this scene hilarious, but the actual jokes help quite a bit: Greg’s growing impatience with the numerous Wizard of Oz reception committees is my favorite gag of the night. Everything is cute to the point of being cloying, including our three angels that look and sound an awful lot like Greg, and the parade that he leads seems like such a fun and peaceful affair after so much time wandering alone. It’s easy to get as roped into it as Greg when we first watch it. But considering the events of our next episode, the scene destroys me every time I rewatch it, because there’s a very specific place Greg is being welcomed to.

Babes in the Wood gets a lot less cute when it becomes clear that it’s a welcoming committee for a dying child. Greg and Wirt are drowning, and this is the episode where the shock wears off and the cold sets in and the younger and weaker of the two looks into a bright light. Greg’s near-death experience is hammered in when we get to The Unknown, but for now it’s being rationalized in a way that brings him comfort.

The cold is Greg’s enemy, and the same childish tone is used to show that he’s willing to fight for his life: thus, the North Wind segment is ironically more hopeful to me than the parade’s warm welcome of death. This third song sounds enough like a Randy Newman number that I’m honestly still convinced it’s an uncredited Randy Newman performance, and it jolts us back to reality for a moment as we see the effect this bitter wind has on our babes in the woods. The boys are starting to freeze, and we again see Beatrice searching for them, getting so close before an owl that looks remarkably like the one we saw in our first episode scares her off. The episode doesn’t want to lose us completely to the sky, and this grounding helps keep the stakes clear as we complete Greg’s dream.

The Popeye-esque battle between Greg and Ol’ Windbag is a hoot, between the latter’s grumbling anger and the former rolling up his sleeve to get back into the brawl. Its conclusion is hidden from us, so we have no idea how Greg gets him in a bottle, but that fits right in with the weird logic of this throwback and allows us to meet the Queen of the Clouds.

I ought to bring up the theory that everything we see here is an illusion created by the Beast, even though I don’t really subscribe to it myself. The most obvious “hint” is that this sequence directly leads to Greg deciding to join the Beast with an off-screen promise, but we also have the old man in the welcoming march wearing an outfit just like Wirt’s and holding a lantern, perhaps a reference to the Beast’s intended fate for Greg’s brother. Plus there’s lines in the songs that seem like they’re luring Greg in, especially the assurance that the wonders of Cloud City “ain’t gonna lie,” which sounds a lot like what a liar would say. Both the Queen of the Clouds and the Beast pointedly call him Gregory instead of Greg, but so does Old Lady Mrs. Daniels (and Wirt when introducing him in Songs of the Dark Lantern).

While it’s a neat enough idea, I think the Queen of Clouds is pretty clearly on Greg’s side for real: she seems upset at his fate in a way that doesn’t make much sense for an ally of the Beast. I also think it’s more meaningful for Greg to truly have the choice between happiness and responsibility, between the possible peace of rest and the definite struggle of life, and for him to choose the latter right as his brother is giving in. But I’ve got no beef with folks whose interpretation of the show is enhanced by this theory, so believe what you want to believe about this ambiguous situation.

Either way, we cut back to Wirt instead of Greg when the dream ends, and he’s still annoyed as he’s trying to sleep. Greg’s strange new seriousness is already cause for concern, and asking Wirt to take care of the frog is even more alarming, but even that doesn’t compare the horror of realizing where he’s actually going. Or rather, with whom.

This is another reason why I think the Queen is an ally: while it’s obviously dangerous for Greg to go with the Beast, that’s what it takes for Wirt to snap out of his funk. It’s a hell of a gambit, but as soon as he starts to awaken, he’s immediately concerned for Greg’s safety despite whatever anger or resentment he had, sparing no time or thought to the branches creeping over him as he runs after his brother.

The quiet distortion as we follow his frantic search is soon met by the Beast’s song, but even as he blames himself for Greg’s plight, Wirt is no longer content to wallow in despair. Because it turns out that these brothers are more similar than they seem, and neither is truly capable of letting the other suffer. In the folk tale for which this episode is named, two children abandoned in the woods eventually die and are covered in leaves by small birds (with some versions seeing them enter heaven), but as we’ll see in our next episode, this isn’t a folk tale.

The thrumming noise intensifies as Wirt slips on the ice, then we add visual distortion as he plummets into the freezing water. He’s saved, but this isn’t water that sees him reborn: the distortion finally breaks as Beatrice asks the episode’s terrible question, and we’re left in the cold.

Every even-numbered episode of Over the Garden Wall, perhaps by virtue of airing twice per night, ends in a mood-setting cliffhanger that grows tenser and tenser with every iteration (or at least it does until the end). First we got a leaf symbolically caught in a fence, then the Beast’s introduction, then the fallout of Adelaide, and now the capture of Greg. Getting trapped has always been a threat for these roving heroes, but the greatest threat of all, that of Wirt trapping himself, has been handled. Things look bleaker than they ever have, but despite the glee of Greg’s dream contrasting with the harshness of reality, Wirt’s ability to climb out of the pit of despair keeps hope alive: even in absence, Greg’s influence looms large.

Rock Factsheet

Dinosaurs had big ears, but everyone forgot because dinosaur ears don’t have bones.

Where have we come, and where shall we end?

Most of these were mentioned in the main analysis, but it’s great that we hear Wirt’s description of Into the Unknown right before the episode itself shows us what happened.

#babes in the wood #over the garden wall #otgw #steven universally #winsor mccay #little nemo in slumberland

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