#ALSO SORRY THIS IS KIND OF GRUESOME HAHA

[inkykeiji]

omgomg clari about that ask of sukuna phisically hurting reader how do you think is aftercare after putting her through all that pain? if there’s any haha

ooooh anon this is SUCH a good question!! well first, i think if sukuna ‘fell in love’ with you (aka became extremely possessive and obsessive with you, utterly infatuated with you, completely addicted to you, the closest he can come to ‘true’ love) he would be unbelievably thorough with you. yes, he loves hurting you, loves the way your facial features wring up into the cutest little wince, loves the way his name splinters into the sweetest little yelps in your throat, loves the way you sob and sniffle and stutter when he screws his face into mock concern, lips jutted out in an exaggerated pout and forehead wrinkled with false worry as he coos out aw, sweetheart, did that hurt? but at the end of the day, you’re still his. you’re still his to take care of, his to fix, his to make better. and despite how sadistic and malicious he is, right down to the very marrow of his bones, right down to the gaping black pit where his soul should be, he still takes meticulously good care of his things. 

as such, he always mends those of his things that he breaks, and he does so with a rigorous sort of fastidiousness. he’s damn near methodical with it, and it would feel cold and sterile if not for his quiet murmurs as shockingly gentle fingers, claws retracted, piece you back together, patch you up, put you in the right order again. so good, baby, you’re doing so good for me, he praises, words void of their usual, characteristic tinge of patronization as he snaps those tiny, tiny bones back into place, sets them straight and secures them in a splint.  

and you, you’re so sweet, so soft, so stupidly naive, consistently lulled into some sort of inexplicable sense of safety and security and solace every single time, that it makes it that much more fun to shatter you to absolute bits again, to have you shuddering in his arms or his lap as you wail into his neck and cling to the demon that desecrates you, that destroys you, over and over and over. but it’s all okay, because you know as much as he loves to ruin you so beautifully, to smear your face with spit and sweat and tears, to leave your body mangled and stained and scarred with him—thick gouges from claws down your back and over your ass, imprints of his fangs engraved in your neck, stamps of four handprints encircling your arms and wrists and thighs—Daddy would never break you beyond repair, Daddy will always make it right again, no matter what. 

[deceitfuldevout]

Happy Purge

Purge AU: Soft!Dark!Mike Kiernan x Student!Reader

Word Count: +2,068

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Stalking, Kidnapping, Power Imbalance, Use of blood as lube, Mild gore, Purge day.

Author's Note(s): I was thinking about this and coincidentally it's kinktober haha!

It's been almost a decade since the first purge. A lot has changed since then. You remember a time when people didn’t have to worry about looking over their shoulder. Even the morning after was gruesome scene. There was an official purge cleanup crew for that reason alone. You couldn’t help but stare at the clock on the wall.

If you could squeeze in just one last assignment, you'll be free for the weekend. Suddenly, you hear your name being called. It breaks you out of your train of thought, turning to your instructor and apologizing, "Yes Professor! S-sorry..." now embarrassed that you've been caught by him. Professor Mike Kiernan

According to his students, Mike was more than an exceptional teacher. Every last one of them adores him. If not, well then he'd have to look out for tonight. You on the other hand, have always felt there was something off about him. As if he were harboring a dark secret. Maybe it was the building nerves. After all, tonight would be the start of the annual Purge Day.

Mike ends class an hour early, giving his students enough time to reach home safely. You on the other hand, take the opportunity to finish up remaining school work. Mr. Kiernan was also in charge of study hall. He notices you're the last student left and approaches your desk, "Forgetting something?"

You look up at him with your pen still in mouth, taking it out to speak. That's when the realization hits. "Oh sh—shoot!" Quickly correcting the slip up. You had completely forgotten. In about thirty minutes the sirens were going to ring, after that the Purge would commence. You lived a little more than half an hour away. How on earth would you make it to home on time?!

Mike notices your fidgeting, poor thing. You were so caught up in school work that you'd completely forgotten. Always so responsible, one of his best students. So kind and generous. You were always a good student, helping anyone that needed it. Was it bad that he wanted to keep it all for himself?

"Do you need a ride home?" he offers, "It's not safe out there, especially not for a young lady like yourself," kind, genuine words. Your phone is almost dead, and you had no point of contact. So you take his offer, "Thank you professor Kiernan, Seriously," You grateful to have someone like him. He walks you to his car parked on the edge of the lot. He takes his time walking to it. You on the other hand, were in a hurry.

You felt almost embarrassed by the way you held the door handle eagerly waiting for him. To unlock it. He chuckles, clicking the button of his keys to open it. You hurry inside, not wasting a second hopping onto the seat. As he began to drive off you could hear the first warning bell. There would only be two more before the final sirens. Your eyes are glued to the red sirens attached to each public building, the blaring makes you feel sick.

When the car makes a sudden turn off the main road, you begin to grow suspicious, "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't the way to my house..."

"I know, but it's too late for that now," he answers, "The third alarm is about to go off, we won't make it in time," his eyes are still glued to the road. You gather enough courage to speak up again, "Professor....professor where are we going?"

"I live nearby, you're more than welcome to spend the night," he answers, "The last thing I'd want is for those animals to harm a student of mine," he reassures. Mike lives in the more rural side of town. There's a growing feeling you have that something was wrong about all this. But what other choice do you have? It was better than being out there alone on the streets.

As soon as you arrive to Mike's home, he activates the security system. When he first bought the house, the first thing he did was install a Purge-proof security system. He walks into the kitchen, rummaging for something, "Would you like some tea?" he opens the pantry to fetch some herbs. While it boils he gets some jam and toast for it. As soon as he finishes up, he places both cups on the table.

You notice that Mike hadn't taken a sip from his drink. Your eyes widen with fear, "You haven't touched your cup..." there's a pause. Then he realizes his mistake, "Ah, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you nervous," he switches the drinks, "Here, have mine," he takes a sip from your cup to insure it hadn't been spiked. It calms your nerves knowing that there was nothing to worry about.

Mike had kept his promise that you would be safe here. It's been a while since he's had anyone over. He tries his best hosting skills, a round of charade, following by a board game. It was honestly one of the best purge experiences you've had yet. A great distraction from the events occurring outside. He insists on watching a movie to kill the time, you agree. Why not? Besides, Mike's company wasn't so bad.

It was during the middle of the movie when you needed to use the restroom. He points you to down the hall. On your way back, you notice a door had been left open. It was most likely the master bedroom. When you reach the knob to close it, you accidentally take a glimpse inside.

That's when you notice what was there. No....there's no way...You enter his room to get a closer look. Mike smiles to himself. To think that he'd been so worried about everything, and for what? You seem to be enjoying his company. He was right all along, there was something more to your relationship.

He hears you rushing down the hallway, there's an angry look on your face, "What the fuck are these?!" you toss the photos on the ground. Pictured in each and every last one of them is you. Some of them were taken while on campus, others were downloaded from social media posts. He smiles, "Now I know what you're thinking, but if you just hear me out--"

"Not a fucking chance!" you back away from him. He's confused, why now were you acting out? It was going so well between the two of you! Can't you see how much he cares?

"Don't you see the love and dedication I have for you?! And you know it too!" he nears, "I know you feel the same way..." his voice sounding more desperate, there's a deranged look in his eyes that doesn't meet his smile, "Tell me you weren't thinking the same thing, when you waited for me after class," he held a hand to his chest, expressing his love for you.

He's finally letting you know how he's felt for a very long time. You were at a loss for words, there's no way he actually thought--between the two of you? He's delusional. To think you and your classmates actually trusted him. You're pissed, "Get it through your fucking head! You're my professor! That's all you'll ever be!"

After hearing that Mike's smile fades. He could feel heart shattering into a million pieces. Maybe it was a mistake, bringing you here on your own terms. If he knew this was how you would react, then he would've just stuck to the original plan. He knows he could get away with it too. After all, it was Purge day.

Usually, he'd go against something like this. But what other choice does he have? It quickly turns into a fight or flight situation. You knew he was stronger than you, so there would be no point in fighting him. What other choice did you have other than running? Mike is much faster than you realize. He's quick to grab you before you've had a chance to alert the security system.

Mike drags you across his home. He stops by a door located on the side of the staircase. He almost rips the hinges off when he pulls you inside. You fought with all your might, scratching, pushing, hitting wherever you possibly could. To him, they felt like nothing. He's dealt with worse. In the struggle, you're sent tumbling down the stairs.

Mike uses his body to shield yours from the fall. He cradles your head against his chest. Yet still, you were fighting him, after everything he's done. You scurry towards the other side of the basement. As far away from him as you could possibly be.

Mike sighs with annoyance, "You have no idea what it's like..." he lifts himself off the floor, his hands now balled up into fists. He doesn't know how much longer he can hold himself back, "You have no idea what it's like seeing you every day, and not being able to do a damn thing!" he charges, slamming you against a wall, he leans his head closer to yours.

Still there was that look of admiration in his eyes, "We could've been so happy together," Mike grabs you by the throat, pulling you into a deep, searing kiss. In retaliation you bit his lip. He winces in pain, "Will you just...stop fighting me?!" his anger gets the best of him as he slams you against the wall. You're left stunned after getting the wind knocked out of your lungs.

Mike is quick to catch you. He panics, "Please! I don't want to hurt you!" He yells over and over again, "I love you! I love you! Please! I love you!" there are tears in his eyes, "Just please...let me love you..." he sighs against your neck, placing a kiss on the bare skin, "Look at what you do to me..." he grinds his bulge against your clothed mound.

You could practically feel how big it was, even through the many layers of clothing. It makes your skin crawl, how he's played the role of a caring professor and community member for so long. Could he even see himself right now?! "Look, whatever you want, a house, a baby, I'll give ya," Mike never knew he even wanted those things, not until he met you. Don't you see? You're all he's ever needed.

You fought him like a trapped animal. His feisty little wildcat. You use both fists to land a few good hits on his face, over and over again. Hitting his nose with a 'crunch' sound. But still, it doesn't stop him. Mike can't seem to understand why you were trying to escape. It was useless fighting him. This would be so much better if you just gave in. Because eventually, he's going to get what he wants. He pulls you into another forceful kiss.

For that, you headbutt in right in the face. Mike winches, pulling away from you with a now bloody nose. He throws you to the ground. Then pounces, caging his body on top of your own. He begins to unbuckle his belt, dragging his boxers down to free his cock. He spits a wad of blood in his palm, that'll do for now. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. Purge would be ending in a few hours, and he'll make sure to use every last minute of it.

He knows how the law works in this area. If a couple lived together for over a year, then it would legally bind them together as husband and wife. Mike doesn't mind that idea at all, 'My wife...you're going to be my wife," he sighs. Your stomach churns after hearing that, "No...no please, this isn't what I want!"

"You don't even know what you want" Mike starts lifting up your skirt, he's eager, almost giddy, "But I do," yanking down the waistband of your panties. He forces his member deep inside, groaning from the sensation of your walls pulsing. You scream from the intrusion. It resembles a cat's howl.

Tears begin to form, now blurring your vision. Your claws sink deep into his chest, as he began thrusting in and out of your channel. He doesn't stop, not until he finishes. He has only one goal on his mind, to plant his seed, leave a legacy behind, "Take it, take it..." he mumbles over and over again.

"Professor?" a student asks, causing Mike to break from his trance. His student asks the question again, "How was your purge?" genuinely curious. What did Professor Mike Kiernan, of all people, do to earn those nasty bruises? He's still wearing his sweater from yesterday, now caked in his own blood. The first thing he did the morning after, was drag himself out of bed and straight to lecture. He couldn't help but grin, "Well, ran into some trouble, but, no worries,"

His students and coworkers felt bad. They all said the same thing, how Mike was the last person who deserved something like this. If only they knew. After a long day of lectures, he finally drives home. He passes by the Purge's official memorial road. There are numerous photos of people who had either lost their lives or went missing.

When he sees your photo, he can't help but smirk. He parks his car on the side of the road, approaching the stand. He pockets the picture for keepsake, smiling to himself as he returns to his car. It's been a long time since Mike has looked forward to coming home.

Perhaps Purge wasn't so bad.

[scaranation]

hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

-

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

An fix on the average day in the office as a private eye for Spider Noir?

First of all, it's been over three months. I am so so sorry. BUT I hope my 5k oneshot that greatly spiralled away from your og prompt makes up for it haha :)

TW for a bit of body horror, VERY brief mentions of period-typical racism and also some brief Spider God-related ickiness

Light Up Your Insides (Not Today)

The little bell at the door chimed and Peter looked up from his lunch to see a woman entering. She was maybe middle-aged, had brown skin, dark hair and a look of deep worry on her face.

Peter sat up straighter behind his desk pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"Are you--Peter Parker?" the woman asked.

Peter nodded. "That's me. Please take a seat. How can I help you?"

The woman breathed out in relief, but the worry didn't ease up yet. With only a moment's hesitation, she sat down on the chair opposite of him, but she didn't lean back.

"Mr Parker, I need your help. They say you're a good dick, and..."

She trailed off, but Peter could imagine the rest.

"My daughter, she's gone missing. The police wouldn't help me, and the--others I've asked said they were too busy, there's more important--"

Peter nodded. The woman didn't look like she could pay well, which would put others in his profession off. The coppers didn't really care, ever. And it likely wasn't helping that she was African American, either. The woman herself still looked like she was preparing for rejection--but luckily for her, Peter wasn't known for turning anyone away.

"Please tell me more about this case, Mrs...?"

"Johnson."

"Johnson. Do you want a tea? Coffee?"

Mrs Johnson shook her head. "No, thank you."

That was just as well. Peter wasn't sure if he even had tea around and he still wasn't a huge fan of sharing his coffee--not that she needed to know that.

Peter took up a pencil and a sheet of paper. "Then please tell me of your troubles, Mrs Johnson."

Mrs Johnson took in a deep, shaky breath. "It's--my daughter. Flora. She--she doesn't usually run off, she's never done it before, but--it's been two days..."

Against Peter's best attempts, he'd never quite been able to shake the images from that lab back on Ellis Island, even though it had been years. The apple had settled a lot, since then; the criminals weren't as bad anymore, not every last person with any kind of authority was corrupt and the Spider wasn't needed even nearly as much as back then. But he still couldn't help that very first thought when he heard of a black girl gone missing. New York was anything but safe, not really, especially for coloured people.

Peter did his best to keep his calm demeanour, if only because the last thing Mrs Johnson needed was even more stress. "Please tell me what exactly happened in as much detail as possible."

Mrs Johnson took another shaky breath, and Peter did his best to write along.

They had been on their way home along Lexington Avenue when Mrs Johnson had first lost sight of her daughter. First she thought Flora had simply seen something interesting and would return in a minute. But that hadn't happened.

Mrs Johnson had spent about half an hour searching the entire area before returning home in the hopes that maybe Flora had gone there on her own--to no avail. A few hours after Flora's disappearance, she had contacted the police, only to be turned away.

It had been a day by now, her husband and neighbours all aiding in her search, and Mrs Johnson had gone to the last place she had heard of for proper help: in other news, Peter.

Peter had seen lots of gruesome things in his life, and while very few of those involved children, they were the first thing to come to his mind. Especially Ellis Island. It had been a decade, by now, but...

Still, he put on his most serious yet calming expression.

"Lexington Avenue?" he asked.

Mrs Johnson nodded and sniffled. Peter handed her a tissue, but she waved him off and pulled out her own.

"I'll begin the search immediately. I will contact you if I have any more questions or when I find Flora."

Mrs Johnson nodded and swallowed. Then she set her jaw and stood up. "Thank you, Mr Parker."

"Don't thank me yet," Peter said with the slightest hint of a smile, despite the growing worry curling in his chest, and walked her to the door.

He only returned to get his coat and notepad before following right after--he had no time to lose.

-----

Lexington Avenue was bustling at this time of day. Peter looked around.

He was standing in the exact same place Mrs Johnson had described when she had noticed Flora missing.

There were no visible signs, of course not. How might a child go missing, though, and why?

Children were curious. She could have easily wandered off and gotten lost. And then what?

Peter should probably give the closest police station a visit before anything else. But since he was here, he might as well question some of the people who might have seen anything. Shop owners, the people at Pete's Tavern just a bit down the road--it was worth a shot, at least.

The shops all turned out to be failures. Peter pushed open the door to the bar--one last stop before he paid the coppers a visit.

There weren't many people inside at this time of day, but Peter could hear a few hushed conversations. Two men were at the bar, one sitting on a stool, the other wiping a glass down. They went silent the moment Peter entered, eyeing him closely.

Peter knew whom to ask first of all.

"Excuse me," Peter said, striding over to them with the most confidence he could put into his steps, stopping just a bit closer to them than would have been polite. "Where you here yesterday, too?"

"Why are you asking?" the man sitting at the bar demanded.

"Yeah," the man behind it said.

"I'm looking for a girl. About this tall, nine, African American, you seen her?"

The men exchanged a look. It was only for a second, but Peter saw it anyways.

"No," the sitting man said.

"Maybe," the bartender said.

Interesting. Most interesting.

Peter kept his face straight and stared at them.

Finally, the bartender sighed and extended his hand. "Pete Baines. I own the place."

Peter shook it. "Peter Parker."

Pete Baines grinned widely, his stance opening visibly, while the other man grumbled into his drink and half turned away.

"Ah, another Pete! Well then, perhaps I can help you. What did you want again?"

Either Pete Baines was very fond of people sharing his name, or he was a very good actor and dangerous, and be it only because he knew something he didn't want to tell.

Peter returned the smile, albeit slightly strained. "A black girl. Nine years, curly hair, yesterday around noon."

Pete Baines scratched his head. "Well, no, doesn't really ring a bell. Does it, Will?"

Will made a sound akin to a negative, without ever turning.

"Are you sure?" Peter needled. "Her mother was sure she'd seen her wander around here. Can I have a look around at least?"

Will snarled another incomprehensible thing. Pete Baines made it a show of thinking. "Well, no. We don't really get little girls here, now do we, Will? No, I'd have noticed. Sure I'll show a fellow Pete around though, eh?"

Wonderful. Now Peter just had to watch out which parts Pete Baines tried to keep him away from and go there.

Unfortunately, Pete Baines didn't try to keep Peter away from anywhere. Peter was allowed to freely sniff around the entire bar room, including behind the bar. He listened closely to his steps, but even with his enhanced hearing, nothing sounded hollow. They went to the backrooms, too. Will looked promisingly critical at this, but... nothing.

Nothing.

Peter firmly set his jaw and tried not to let his irritation show, even as the back office and several storage rooms turned out to be entirely clean, at least as far as Peter could tell. And he had gotten good at recognising these kinds of things.

And then. And then. Finally.

It was just a broom closet. It was cramped, but not as dusty as Peter would have expected. And, most importantly, Pete Baines moved into the way. It was the first room he entered before Peter, and he put himself right in front of a crate.

Wonderful. Now, should Peter let him know that he knew...?

Who was he kidding. He didn't have any time to dawdle. He needed to find Flora.

"Let me see that," he demanded.

Pete Baines furrowed his brows, but his smile didn't waver. "Yes, of course. Why?"

Peter ignored him and knelt down besides the crate. The lid was brandished with an odd symbol; Peter had the feeling that he'd seen it before somewhere.

The crate itself was empty, save for a thick layer of dust inside.

Dammit.

Dammit.

Peter breathed out slowly and quietly. Then he pulled out his camera and took a picture--just in case. It would take a while to develop these photos, but he could check the library for anything with that symbol later.

Then again, he didn't have time. In the case of missing people--especially children--he couldn't wait for even one second.

"Well, thank you," Peter said and straightened his coat.

Pete Baines sent him another smile, but it was thinner than before. "I hope you find what you're looking for, pally."

Peter just nodded. He strode right past Pete Baines and back outside; a goodbye was probably overrated by now.

Pete Baines said nothing. But when Peter passed through the actual bar again, Will glared at him well until he was gone--and apparently it was even enough to set off Peter's spider sense.

-----

Peter headed for the library next. Developing the film would take too long--longer than he was willing to wait, anyways. He had been too late too often. Way too often. Not this time, not again.

Once at the library, he... had a problem. Where to start looking?

He found a librarian and a pencil to sketch the symbol to the best of his abilities.

"This might have been an old sigil," she told him and led him down the rows of shelves. "If you find it, I'd love to hear--where did you come across it, anyway?"

Peter shrugged. "Just an old crate in a pub somewhere." He took the proffered book. "Thank you."

Then he found a quiet corner to read the brick of a book that was this lexicon of old gods and hoped that it wouldn't be a huge waste of time.

The book was old. And bulky. Even flipping through every page quickly, only glancing at the sigils, he was making very little progress. Of course, some sigils were close to his drawing and he couldn't rule them out, so he also had to properly read four greatly varying articles and copy the most important details into his notebook.

There was a child missing. He should be doing something, something--

Peter flipped another page and this was it.

This was the sigil from that crate.

Florecae. Goddess of flowers, growth and health.

He had heard that name before. He knew he'd heard that name before. But where...?

Of course. Of course. He was a damn twit. He could have known that where sigils and Gods were involved, the Legion of Darkness was his best bet.

And the chances were good that they still had their base in that building down at the docks...

Maybe it was time for Peter to get out the suit once again. Lack of time certainly called for more drastic measures like that.

If he was lucky (and hadn't entirely unlearned how to swing), he might even make it into his suit and to the docks within half an hour.

-----

The Legion of Darkness was, for lack of a better description, a joke.

Peter had run into them before, years ago, when the Spider was still needed. They were neither a lot of people, nor very threatening. Their intentions had always been on par with the name, though--and whether they did or did not succeed in raising an ancient God was irrelevant with a child's life in danger.

The rhythm of swinging past the buildings still came easy to Peter, even though he had changed a lot. He'd become a private dick, and gotten a cat, and let the Spider disappear, and even the Spider God left him alone most of the time. Even the nightmares had gotten fewer.

And yet, the moment that mask hid his face and his coat billowed in the wind as he rushed past the highest of buildings, so far above the street, it was as if all these years of living a relatively normal life didn't matter anymore. His movements were as fluid as back then, despite the age difference. His joints bent too far from one swing to the next, and the apple's smell was unusually sharp. This high up, hardly anything could harm him.

He was the Spider, and if anyone dared to touch that little girl, they were going to regret it.

Along with a slightly saltier, tangy scent in the air, the docks came into view. Peter returned to the solid rooftops, running and jumping too easily and too far for a human.

One of these buildings now must have been the one. No, this one. He was standing on it.

He set his hands down and crawled down the side of the building, but from the looks of it, none of the windows were open. Well, that was... not ideal.

Peter looked at the window below him. The room behind it was dark and seemingly empty. Ah, well, he already knew his spider-sense was still sharp.

He drew his arm back and smashed the glass. Without hesitation, he swung inside right after the shards and crouched down inside the room.

It was empty, as expected, but otherwise, too, entirely bare. No furniture, no proper floor, not even a single proper lamp.

That didn't matter. He was here to find out where the girl was being kept.

The door of the room stood open. The hallway past it was equally deserted and dark. The closer he came to said door, the stronger his spider-sense prickled in the back of his neck. There was no imminent, immediate danger, but something here was very, very wrong.

Peter laid one hand onto the handle of his gun and scanned the hallway in both directions, before turning left. His steps were silent, but his breath sounded louder for it.

He couldn't risk being noticed, not before he got what he came for.

All the rooms setting off from the hallway appeared silent even to Peter's enhanced senses. Had the Legion relocated...? No, they still had their name written on the front door, in fresh paint. (Peter honestly wasn't sure what they were trying to achieve with that, but he wasn't complaining. If it wasn't a trap--but he'd notice in time. Hopefully.)

Okay. He was still on the top floor. He'd check out the floors below and then search more thoroughly--that was probably the fastest option.

Peter had barely reached the first landing when he heard a commotion.

"No, no! I don't want to!" a girl shrieked.

"But Flora is such a pretty name. You'd be just perfect--"

Peter had no intentions of finding out who was talking or what the girl was perfect for. He jumped to the ceiling, where people wouldn't aim first of all when drilling and crawled after those voices. He didn't like not having his guns in hand, but he couldn't risk shooting before locating Flora.

"Come on," the adult voice coaxed, possibly a woman. "Be a good little girl and--"

The door wasn't locked, so Peter threw it open and fired his webs by instinct alone.

A split-second later, he could properly make out the scene: the room had been two rooms, the wall between them crudely brought down. Right in the middle, someone had drawn Florecae's sigil with white paint and in the centre of said sigil--

"Let go of me!" Flora cried out, tears spilling down her face, her kinky hair in wild disarray.

A woman stood half bent over her. She had greenish-white skin, bright hair and--

A sharp pang shot through Peter's skull and he dropped down onto the floor. He could still feel the bullet zipping past him but he turned mid-fall and threw webbing right back. Yelling started up and more guns were being fired.

Peter had to end this, fast, before Flora got hit by a stray bullet. It was too easy to get back into the flow of evading bullets based on instinct alone. It was maybe ten goons, likely members of the Legion of Darkness. Their aim hadn't gotten all that much better. Duck, run, jump--and with a kick to the jaw, the goon crumpled to the ground. Jump, run along the ceiling, shoot--another one down for the count. The energy of the fight was cursing through Peter's limbs, heightening his senses and the smell of gun powder. It had been a while since he'd been able to let loose, let his spidery side take over and ruthlessly beat a bunch of brunos to pulp, and it almost felt good. They were done for quickly.

Peter dropped back onto even ground and turned towards Flora and the woman.

Both were watching him. Flora was still crying, hugging herself.

The woman tilted her head. A smile, too wide for a human mouth, with too many needle-sharp teeth, greeted Peter. Her eyes were bright blue like the sky on an exceptionally clear day and sparkling almost as warmly as the sun. She had too many of them.

"See?" the woman asked with a voice that wasn't very loud anymore at all, but piercing right through Peter's head. "This is a totem. Does it look sad to you?"

Peter grit his teeth. The voice wasn't just piercing, it was literally inside his head--she hadn't spoken on a physical plane. And the woman wasn't even anything close to a woman. Not a human altered by queer magic--no, she was Florecae herself.

Don't listen to her, Peter tried to say, but his voice wouldn't carry, no sound crossing his lips. He couldn't move. He looked down, only to see colourful, blooming vines creeping up his legs. Why hadn't his spider-sense warned him? How hadn't he noticed--

Focus. He needed to focus.

Flora, listen to me. Your mother asked me to search for you. I'll get you out of here, I promise, just don't listen to her. Whatever she wants you to do, don't.

Peter's words stayed silent, but Flora suddenly looked up, directly at him, as if she'd heard him anyways.

"Don't bother," Florecae said, her eyes blazing until her features were unrecognisable beyond the light. It made his eyes water to look at her any longer. Was she getting stronger...?

The light travelled from her face down her torso, illuminating more and more of the room in what might have been sunlight, hadn't it been so damn bright. Florecae's feet lifted from the ground, thick vines and varieties of flowers spreading from where she had stood.

"You are too late, Spider," Florecae exclaimed and her voice came from everywhere around and echoed inside Peter's skull painfully. His entire body was on fire, whether because of her presence or his own spider-sense going nuts, he couldn't tell. "She will be my totem, my sacrifice to walk this plane once more. Surrender now, or be destroyed."

Peter crouched down and began to undo his laces, his coat falling just right to hide it from sight--though a goddess might see regardless. Who knew? His direct personal experience with gods was limited, and Florecae was nothing like the fever dream of getting his powers. They weren't very alike, neither in manner nor appearance. Regardless, Peter wouldn't let anyone else become a God's totem; nobody deserved to go through that hell, least of all a child.

He made eye-contact with the girl. "Run!" he yelled, and the feeling of his words rippling across a surreal, godly plane of existence instead of his physical world made him want to throw up.

Flora's eyes were wide with panic as she shook her head frantically. "If I leave the circle, I'll die!" she yelled back between sobs.

Was this really...?

Peter looked at the ground more closely. He had come inside the sigil without even noticing, and the flowers and plants were restricted to exactly that sigil. Florecae wasn't able to properly touch their physical world, not yet, not without a totem. That meant she could still be stopped. If Peter could just get Flora outside of that sigil without killing her...

A thousand glass shards were piercing through Peter's brain and he could hardly contain a scream as his vision went white. Fire raced down his limbs, more glass shards lining his lung with every half-aborted breath. He could feel his teeth shifting in his mouth, could feel the fangs he had sanded down years ago grow back, lined with venom. His head pulsated. Peter's fingers curled into claws.

When he opened his eyes, they weren't his own anymore. They weren't his human eyes at all, but eight eyes that weren't tangible on this plane, lent by the very thing that still let him wake up screaming regularly. The Spider God's terrifying presence pressed down on Peter's frail, human body, both from inside and out. It would tear him apart--and stitch him back together, mercilessly.

The God's eyes could see Florecae. They could see the blinding silhouette of the physical world and her true, mind-tearing form wherever it was that Gods resided. Peter's entire being ached to recoil, hide away in a dark corner, get away before the mere sight could burn him to ashes. His eyes were watering and his mask clung to his face like a second skin, and still the Spider God's presence tore through his organs. Some of the sigil glowed even around the Goddess's true form.

Flora didn't.

Peter gasped for a breath that wouldn't come and the Spider God's presence left him as suddenly as it had come.

He leapt forwards. His boots were still held firmly in place by vines and the like, but they slipped off his feet and he sprinted towards the Goddess, towards Flora. Flora opened her mouth to a silent scream and Peter reached her, reached for her torso and pressed her against his own body as he continued to run.

Flora was small and light. She clung to Peter's arm as he adjusted her in his arms to hold her properly.

A mind-splitting screech echoed through his ears until he thought his skull would dissolve into nothingness. One more leap and they would be outside of that huge sigil--but the air seemed to thicken, slowing Peter's movements, dragging them back in.

No. He wouldn't let it. He wouldn't let anything happen to the girl, he wouldn't let Florecae win, not this time, not ever.

Peter's free hand shot out and the web attached to the wall of the room. He yanked, and they were sent flying from that choke-hold.

Air flooded Peter's lungs. Flora was still held in his arms, head buried against his neck, sobbing, alive.

He didn't have any time to waste.

"Hold on tight," he muttered as he skidded into the hallway. From behind, he could hear the sound of shattering glass. Peter ran back up the stairs where he'd come from. Somewhere below he could hear yelling, quick steps, but they were just too far away to be a danger. He found the room he had entered through and crawled right back out, into the grey-ish, natural daylight of New York City.

One roof further, Peter dared to stop. He set Flora down carefully. She looked up at him with red eyes. She didn't seem to have any bruises or other external injuries, but he'd have to check again later. For now, he still had to make sure Florecae wouldn't come after them.

"Wait here," he told Flora, even as everything inside him protested that he couldn't leave her alone, not even for a second.

Thankfully, he didn't have to move far to see that whatever had happened in there had had... consequences. He and Flora hadn't left a second too early.

The second floor from the top was on fire. The flames were licking higher and higher, and Peter could hear faint screams from inside.

Good.

He knew the only people inside had to be willing members of the Legion of Darkness. They had kidnapped a child. They got what was coming for them. Whether they got out or burned to death--it was none of Peter's business.

He turned back to Flora. She was sniffling and hugging herself, but she was no longer actively crying.

"Who are you?" she asked very, very quietly.

Peter heard her perfectly well. He crouched down to meet her eye to eye. "They called me the Spider," he said.

"The Spider hasn't been seen for years, mum says."

He nodded. "That's because it hasn't been needed that much. Listen, Flora. I'll bring you back home, like I promised, but I need you to keep a secret. Can you do that?"

She swallowed, but nodded.

Peter hesitated. "Where I'll bring you first... I usually don't want anyone to know who I am. You can't ever tell anyone."

"I won't," she said, louder this time, apparently intrigued by such a well-kept mystery.

"Okay. I'll get you to my office the fastest way I can. Do you think you can hold on to me while I swing?"

Flora smiled, barely, and very carefully, but it was probably as close to enthusiasm as she could get after being kidnapped and almost becoming a totem. Peter had her climb onto his back and hold on tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, which wasn't great for him but at least secure for her. Carefully, he crawled a little along the side of the building they were on, but Flora held on tight, and he could deal with her weight--it was barely anything.

Peter swung back home slower than usual. But the child on his back thoroughly seemed to enjoy herself, shrieking as the wind rushed past them.

"We're so high!" she yelled right into Peter's ear at some point, and she still sounded a little scared, but most of all... she sounded excited.

She would recover. She would be able to go back to her life, eventually.

Peter ended it all in a back alley close to his office. He set his feet back on the ground and pulled off his mask, suddenly awfully aware that he had left his boots behind. They had been good boots. Really good boots. And damn expensive, too. Well, after that fire...

"Your hair is really fluffy," Flora said suddenly, still holding on tightly.

She was alright. She was alive. She was safe. That was worth a pair of boots.

Once back inside his office, Peter deposited Flora on his office chair behind the desk, which she immediately began exploring, and rang Mrs Johnson. The only response to his news was a choked sob and and the end of said call, but he had hadn't expected much else.

"You mum will be here in a moment," Peter said. "Remember, I'm just your friendly neighbourhood dick. Don't got no powers, just a good nose for conspiracies."

Flora nodded seriously. "The Spider found me and brought me here. And left."

Peter made himself smile a little. He was tired and sore. He hadn't been in a fight that bad in quite a while, and the Spider God's sudden appearance hadn't helped things.

"She said you're a totem," Flora said suddenly. "Does that mean someone gave you to a God?"

Peter couldn't help a small grimace. "It was... no, not really. A spider bit me, a venomous one. But instead of dying--"

He didn't want to think about it, all the vivid details that wouldn't ever stop haunting him as long as he lived.

"What's it like? Who's your god?"

Peter began sifting through some old papers, if only to have his hands moving. "The Spider God gave me my powers, but it also... well, it's... I've been able to help people. But it's not nice. If you can help it, stay far away from gods."

"No, I definitely want to see more of them now," Flora drawled in a surprising burst of sarcasm.

Peter chuckled. "Let me just get you some city juice and then we make sure you're not hurt, okay?"

Flora hesitated. "Don't leave."

"I won't."

-----

Mrs Johnson didn't even bother with knocking, and Peter couldn't fault her for it. She immediately rushed towards Flora and scooped her up into a tight hug. Flora buried her face in her mother's chest.

Mrs Johnson looked up again after a moment; only her eyes were a little shiny. She tried to smile at Peter. "How can I ever--"

"It's quite alright," Peter cut her off, "as long as you and your daughter are safe." He looked at them. "I don't need money, either," he decided on a whim. He could get by well enough already.

"If you ever need anything, Mr Parker, if it's within my power..."

He nodded. "The most you can do is stay safe, Mrs Johnson. Please."

She inclined her head. "You are a good man. Thank you."

Peter almost wanted to scoff, but he made himself smile instead.

"The Spider saved me!" Flora exclaimed suddenly, just as Mrs Johnson turned to leave.

"Oh? Did he?"

"Uh-huh. He wasn't so scary." The girl nodded and looked over her mother's shoulder right at Peter.

He winked and put a finger against his lips.

She almost giggled and returned the motion.

The girl was safe now.

But Peter would go out this night again, despite his tiredness, and hunt down whatever was left of the Legion of Darkness.

He may have gotten a little inactive, but whoever messed with children would still have to answer to him.

----------

I hope you enjoyed, even though some parts may have been a bit rushed! I did get it out within the same year you asked lmao. Thanks for the prompt, anon. I sincerely hope you see and enjoy this.

[absolutebl]

I’ve been watching BL for about 3+ years now and consumed my fair share of series and I have to say the actors’ responsibilities to their characters/series off set is starting to feel very “gay for pay”. What I mean is the majority of the actors, in my opinion, seem very obviously straight but the shipping culture, rabid fans delusions on their personal lives, and requirements to always appear like a couple when In public (fan meets, interviews, reaction videos of their work, variety shows, selling products on live, etc.), make it so that they must always be “on” even upon wrapping their series and this makes me veryy uncomfortable and I feel bad for them. It takes the artistry or this is work element out of what is clearly just a job. I for one try to avoid most of the “IRL” stuff actors do outside of the series itself bc it’s makes me just so uncomfortable and embarrassed…. On another note, it seems like many of these actors take on BL to break into the industry. Is there much success in a popular BL actor pivoting into “mainstream” or non BL celebrity? Bright Vicharawit seems to be doing well and Mew Suppasit. Although I hate to say Mew’s career pivot rubs me entirely the wrong way bc I feel like he didn’t bow out of BL gracefully but used BL and the popularity of his shipped couple and dropped it all like a bad habit trying to erase its existence from his history... I’m sorry my bitter might be showing on that last bit haha. I hope I made some sort of sense. Thanks!

Yes, it's weird, creepy, and exploitive - from all sides. That's why I avoid all the fan service stuff.

With respect to Thai actors? I actually don't know if BL can be seen as "breaking in" since BL the big guns of the industry there. Where else is there to go? Het dramas are less popular, at least outside of the country. Not sure what's going on internally.

Presumably, Mew is getting this chance, and it's a big one, because he looks, well, like Mew (very appealing to a Korean aesthetic), and also I'm assuming speaks Korean well enough to get by. Also, he was always a very very ambitious boy, that one.

I won't blame him entirely for anything tho, MAME's actors seem to have it the worst.

I have my reservations about Korean BL too. I think some of the boys *think* they are getting a leg up but... still too short to ever be leading men material (by Korea's standards). Especially the idols. (”Ieg up” ... see what I did there?) And I think doing BL there can still do more harm than good because of the homophobia (like what happens in China). I think some of the working actors who happened into BL (like the To My Star Boys) seem to be realistic and have fun about it, but they're both established in themselves as people and as actors BEFORE the fandom happened to them.

Japan and Taiwan it's just another job. There seems to be neither weight nor stigma (these days, it was different a decade ago). You can gain a bit of international cred and some sweet modeling and sponsorship deals (see the Cherry Magic boys) and maybe a follow up gig in the form of a movie or whateves, but that's more like just... being part of a successful show.

I don't know, kids becoming celebrities. It's never gonna be pretty, that gruesome combination of performative ego, accelerated attention and wealth, parasocial relationships the then add.... fake dating the same sex in a largely hostile society.

Can't imagine any of these youngsters come out not borked in the head.

Now the ones like MaxTul or even, maybe, MileApo who clearly talked about this and how to handle it with each other, and have some kind of game going on (with each other and us as fans), and entered the situation more grown up aware and mature age-wise (and therefore somewhat fixed in ego and personality) - I don't worry so much about them.

But mostly, since PerthSaint went south what, 4 years ago was it? Yeah, it's ALL creepy.

That's enough of this kinda gossip.

(this post from this one on my reservations about pair branding)

[moonelnone]

-Hiken here!

I just wanted to ask you about your thoughts on the previous ask. The one with Ace's narcolepsy. I feel like I made it too gruesome robin would love it(I have a feeling it was because I said it was supposed to be private).

I've been thinking about sabo's color scheme, since he's "basil" would that give him a different colour scheme than the others? Yamato would have either a blue or green color scheme as for uta, hers would be a strong red (psychologically proven to be the most stressful color) law would probably be blue or something along those lines. (Is it possible for you to make a small sketch of them?)

Back to Coby! I feel like Coby would appear in a single cutscene that would provoke the "chase" mini game. After that Coby would appear every now and then just like a wild card! His role is to make HIKEN stray away from Luffy only to kidnap him momentarily (in reality it's just something Ace's mind creates for ace to somewhat recover from a stressful shut down from his narcolepsy and yes I actually had to do a research to make sure that stress does indeed have an effect on narcolepsy so please dear newly appointed friend of mine take care of yourself )

Also you said that last time ace had a phobia of heights and like the good brain mine is he made a scenario that goes like this:

Since Ace kept trying to get whitebeard's head (which felt more like a chore at this point for it was but a promise to Luffy to prove his existence to the world ) he would still get plummeted to the ocean but what if Marco caught him? What if he tried to fly up with Ace between his talons?

I'm gonna leave the rest to you to imagine and feel free to share what you come up with! I wanna know how Ace would react in this case.

-Hiken out!

Sorry I fell asleep before I could answer the other ask, i just got home from a stressful walk that time and just plopped down on the sofa 😭 Anyways,

I'm a little woozy but here! I couldn't pass up the opportunity to not turn it into an rgkg haha.. Though I'd think of Yamato as yellow, since happiness and the three emotion thing. You did say Yamato is a chill boss so i'd like to think he'd be the type of boss to be ecstatic in fighting Hiken like a friendly rival. (Also that bit about Headspace Yamato's shadow 👁) I really do like the bit about Uta representing the anger Ace had, I just think if Hiken and Uta were to fight in the designated island, Sabo would be constantly trying to calm him down like how you spam items in Omori 😭 Law's an interesting case ngl, despite being in a place full of snow that could melt from fire, I feel like he'd get overpowered easily by how strong the winter in Kori Labs are, in a way it would represent how he can't get pass the guilt despite being able to burn it off.

Also The thing about Coby kidnapping Luffy is funny, I think it would be really funny if he genuinely means no harm but Ace's dream keeps making things go awry. The bit about the narcolepsy--yeah stress does factor in, I found myself suddenly falling asleep during a meeting and it was kind of silly ^^; The last bit about Ace almost plummeting into the ocean, I'd think that he'd be angry at Marco at catching him with his talons for a bit because he'd feel that he doesn't need help. But then he'd gaze into the deep water and suddenly finding himself staring at his Something, Obviously I think he'd panic and just climb back up feeling frustrated.

[clare-with-no-i]

was only going to do like two questions but i need your thoughts on everything it seems so 1 - 4 if you please for homonyme!!!! <333

HAHA you are consistently too kind to me, bb. thank you!

What inspired you to write the fic this way?

so, I'd been teasing writing bleur for ages, but when I sat down to write them I thought: how can I tell this story in a new way? what do I have to contribute to something that's laid out this way in canon? and I was talking to my sister about it and she suggested Hanahaki disease, and I was like…oh my god. oh my god her name is literally FLEUR it has to happen this is brilliant

I also just loved the idea of toying with why Bill is so different from all of the men in Fleur's life who admire her superficially, who treat her either like a pariah or like an object because she's a quarter Veela. like, she's probably never experienced unrequited love in her life, simply because of her appearance. but, now she has!

2. What scene did you first put down?

oh, GOOD question!

the first scene I put down was the one where Fleur is in the bathroom throwing up blood—the one after the first line break. I remember writing the sequence of how she used her Veela magic to charm-speak (is that a pjo term? lmao? who am I) the guy waiting outside, this very pretty demure and docile moment, and then wanting it to be bookended by this gruesome, painful reality she's living. so I wrote about the blood going down the drain. it was such a good way to throw myself into the story!

3. What's your favorite line of narration?

I think my favorite line in homonyme is

After all, love is not a fairytale.  It is messy and wretched, sometimes.  Longing underscored with heartache.  Pink camellia petals covered in blood.

Because in the floral dictionary I looked up, pink camellias literally mean 'longing,' so saying 'pink camellias covered in blood' is pretty much a repeat of 'longing underscored with heartache,' and I just thought that was really neat. and it's true! love can be messy and wretched and ugly, but it can also be beautiful and healing, as we see at the end.

4. What's your favorite line of dialogue?

I think one of them is:

“Oh, of course,” she breathes, and smoothes her skirt down. “Thank you for your time, Bill, I know this is not—this is now how you will like to spend your time.”

“Would,” he hums automatically, and then startles, looking sheepish, hands grasping at parchments and stuffing them into his bag. “Oh.  Sorry.  It’s just, it’s ‘how you would like to spend your time.’”  He pauses here to glance fleetingly at her and then continues, quietly: “And you’re wrong, you know.  I don’t mind this at all, and you’re doing really well.  English is a terrible language to learn; Arabic was a breeze compared to all of this.”

I wanted Bill to really be a source of comfort for her in this fic (even as he's, uh, inadvertently killing her), and one of the ways I tried to establish that was by stridently avoiding any time where he condescended or patronized her about learning English. People who move to English-speaking countries get so much shit for not speaking perfect English immediately, which is absolutely ridiculous, considering it's a nightmare Frankenstein language created by demons. And, duh, Fleur! he loves spending time with you!

thank you so so so much bb, sending love <3

[ciaossu-imagines]

Yeah. And it was nice to see them all together like that instead of separate. And thank you for the consideration. Also, I’ll say now since that I’ve started the manga, it’s an okay adaptation. Like in my mind it’s like a Sparknotes version of what happens in the manga because it skips over some things that even happened in the earlier chapters just so that they could do the main plot they wanted to do. Like I think I’m at what happened in episode 5 and there are so many more scenes that I’m glad I got to see.

Yeah. I checked and technically it’s one movie and two specials. Like ‘The Book of Murder’ (which is actually based on the Phantomhive Manor Murders arc) is two long episodes and then the next one is a movie based on he next arc. Man voices Charles Grey if you’re curious. And fair enough. The manga is better, especially since the second season was something else. And I don’t think it’s ended yet. My friend is a huge fan of the series so she’ll probably tell me when it comes to an end. Also, since we’re talking about Black Butler, Yata’s VA did Grelle which was also very nice to hear.

Thank you. It’s just my own standards I guess 😅 True. That’s how I always am after all even though I do tend to look forward to replies from you and other people I talk to. And cool. I saw that you said some stuff and will also reply to that once I’ve typed everything I have to out. And it’s nice that you finally have the time to do so 😃 And that’s great to hear that you’re ahead of schedule. Your break is more than deserved then.

It is and so fun. Yeah. Definitely. I hope if I do write something, I can properly put it in. Hopefully my ideas are vague enough that it doesn’t have to come to it. Or in another turn, which I very much doubt, I might be far enough not to be spoiled too much by what you say 😅 But yeah, I’ll be curious to see what you have to say about them once I get around to sending them. Yeah. I will do that since you gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. I’ve still got to clear it all up and write something you asked me to do so I’ll do that and will give you what my brain has given me. I see. That’s nice. I wonder whether my opinion will change on Licht as I read more of the manga.

I’m sorry to hear that you have to wait that long. And what kind of other places are there where you have to fight to get a copy of you prescription? And yeah, same. Like we have a reasonably big TV but I still always have to go quite close to it whenever I’m not wearing my glasses to properly see what’s going on. Thank you. And so true about music. It’s a beautiful thing to exist. Sure thing.

Oh I see. And it makes sense. The summary of Deadman Wonderland sounded quite gruesome so it’s bound to get quite graphic at times. I see. It’s been many years ago that I read the Bleach manga so I just remember vague things here and there so I didn’t really realise it was that bad of an adaptation. But that’s really interesting to know. Number One will also be forever one of my faves, even though I don’t listen to it often and yeah, I also remember the dub being good so that’s also nice. And I see. Manga’s are good for minor characters. Yeah. Thank you so much and hope the same to you 😁

C

I'm glad it was nice and helpful! And now that you've started the manga (which YAY!), it's really interesting to see your general opinions of it and that they do match what the others were saying and even my own belief that there's enough scenes that didn't get animated to really justify starting it from the beginning. I'm so happy you're enjoying it and that, wow, you're already so far into the manga! I wish you lots of happiness as you continue to go along (even happiness in the more angsty sections haha, because angst can be fun).

And thank you for that information. I really hadn't known that they made specials out of the Phantomhive Manor Murders arc, though that one I just might watch because I had really enjoyed that particular arc of the manga and am curious as to the voices they would have gotten for some of the characters that were introduced. I'm glad to hear some agreement that the manga is better…it was just a really beautiful manga to me, art-wise, and I really couldn't get even the subtle differences in the art to make it easier to animate, so I didn't even want to try the anime. But I have heard a lot of people say the second season of the anime was just absolutely wild and messed up and, if what I've heard is true, it's not even really all that connected to the manga? And that's surprising to me, that Yata's voice is also Grelle's. That voice actor really does do a lot of roles, and voices really a wide range of character types and I am here for it.

Aww, it's always nice to hear that people look forward to my replies. In my mind, there's always that thought of 'well, now that I've written an entire frigging novel to them, that's probably the last I'll hear from them' because my replies are always so long and chatty. And no rush at all to reply, truly. Just as I appreciate people letting me take the time to reply, I'll always give everyone else that time. I believe this is the last inbox reply I have left, though I have a post to reblog and reply to, since I was tagged and asked for my thoughts. After that, I'll openly admit it'll probably be another week or so before I get back to replying to dm's and inbox chatter, since I'll be focusing on getting post replies out and staying caught up and on schedule. Plus, there are some asks that I'm just so excited to write and, as mentioned, I'm beyond ecstatic to be giving myself some time, once I'm all caught up on the older stuff, to work on my passion projects!

I hope for that for you too! And honestly, with the speed you're catching up, and the speed with which I reply to things, there is that possibility that you'll have gotten your answers or my answers won't be spoilers at all haha. I look forward to reading them but again, please take your time. And I apologize again for asking you to take the time to write up something extra for me, but thank you so much for doing that. And I am also curious as to whether the manga will make you like Licht a little more or dislike him more. I feel he's a lot more fleshed out in the manga and you get to see more of him and Lawless interacting, which makes me really happy.

And honestly, I'm used to waiting that long. It's about a three to four week to get even a phone appointment with my general practitioner, so waiting that long for a more specialized doctor is generally expected around where I live, because health-care workers are in short supply in Canada overall but especially the general clump of provinces I live in. And certain eye doctors, if they have a shop attached to their office that sells glasses, will definitely fight with you about you needing your prescription because they really want you to buy your frames and lenses from them, as it's where they make the most of their money. An optometrist operates in tandem with the Vogue Optical here, but I refuse to go with them as they won't hand over my glasses prescription to me, they just send it to Vogue and make me buy the crazy expensive frames from there so I go with the one optometrist in this area whose office has no eyeglasses store associated with it. And I admit I have a second-hand, beat up, smaller television. It's less than 40" so reading subs on it is impossible unless I'm super close haha. But it still works and has great sound quality and a lot of ports so I won't give it up haha.

And yeah, Deadman Wonderland got really graphic in the fight scenes but there was a lot of hard and heavy stuff in characters backstories that would need to be censored or taken out for the series to be on television so honestly, I do think it's better as a manga and enjoy the manga quite a bit. And yes, Number One is fantastic! It's in my music library, but that's easily over 3-4,000 songs so I get to hear it once in a while, whenever it comes up on shuffle. And I will say, all of the classic Big 3, other than the horrific experience of the 4kids dub, all had really good dubs done for them! And thank you :)

[sugarfluffandallthatgoodstuff]

cuddles for cuties

Kirishima x fem!reader x Bakugou

Tw: ever so slight mentions of bullying, injuries, Mineta being a disgusting pervert, Monoma being an ass as usual, cussing, fluff fluff fluff galore, and a glorious loving 3 way relationship. also my first fic ever please be kind

Also Reader is supposed to be from Norway and have a siren quirk (kinda like the sirens from equestria girls but basically on steroids) your last name in this fic is Kronsen just for reference.

1,550 words

Your POV

beep beep beep beeeeeeeeeeeeee-

SLAM

sigh

Well there goes the 12th alarm clock this month. Why does school need to start at such an ungodly hour?! It doesn’t help that Mr.Aizawa puts all of us through the most gruesome amount of training imaginable. I slowly get off my bed only to end up stepping on the glass lamp that used to be next to the now demolished alarm clock and then having several glass shards in both my feet. Wow looks like this situation couldn’t get any worse right? Haha no. Because I then had to walk with the glass burying itself deeper in my feet as I went to go grab the tweezers to pull them out. I pulled each of the 47 pieces of glass out and finally bandaged ‘em both up only to find out I was now 30 minutes behind schedule even though the dorms were only a 15 minute walk to the school tops. Great now I gotta worry about burdening the class by interrupting their instruction. It doesn’t help either that Kiri’s grades are awful and he’s distracted easily so now I’m gonna feel worse cause now I am gonna end up causing more pain in my 2 boyfriends lives. 

~tidshopp~

damn glass making it so I can’t run as fast and-

THUMP

“hey loser maybe watch where you’re going. I would think someone in class 1A would know to do that”

jee thanks Monoma 

“Kronsen-chan!”

Great now everyone is gonna see me thanks for that Midoriya

“Kronsen are you ok?! You’re not hurt are you?! Do you need to go see Recovery Girl?! Should I tell-”

“I-I’m o-ok M-Midoriya. T-t-trust me I-I’ve been th-through w-worse.” 

Damn my social anxiety

“O-oh o-ok um would you like me to walk you to class?”

“N-no th-thank y-you I-I’ll be th-there s-soon”

“Ok I’ll tell Mr.Aizawa you’ll be at class soon and you got held up.”

“Th-thank y-you I-I’m s-sorry”

“No need to apologize! What are friends for?”

I sure as hell hope Bakugou doesn’t hear about this...

~tidshopp~

“Good to finally see you Kronsen”

“I-I’M S-S-SO S-S-S-SOR-RY I-I-I’M L-L-LATE! M-M-MR. A-A-AIZAW-WA” I whisper yelled because I worry about being too loud and further upsetting everyone else. 

“You’re fine just go sit down”

So with that I trudged to my seat and put my head down 

jeez can this day get any worse?

Really shouldn’t have asked that question albeit in my head.

“hey~~~”

God fucking damnit not this again

“I bet I could treat you right if you let me see up your skirt~”

“P-ple-ease l-leave m-me al-”

“OI DIPSHIT”

uh oh

**“STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY GIRLFRIEND OR I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU” **

I look up at Bakugou

“S-Suki i-it’s-”

I get cutoff again

“SHITTY HAIR GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE”

“Jeez Bakubro you need to chill, what’s the problem?”

“I-I-”

“dude just let me touch her tits at least”

I swear I could almost see the lightbulb light up above Kirishima’s head

“You know what I changed my mind deal with him as you want Bakugou”

“Thanks Shitty Hair”

I truly felt like I wanted to shrivel up and die

“Hey are you ok Y/N?”

Kirishima was now kneeling in front of me 

“I-I’m o-ok”

“sigh ok just let me know if you need anything promise?”

“P-promise”

~tid hoppe til lunsj~

“Hey loser”

“please leave me alone Monoma”

“ugh I still can’t believe they let someone with a villain quirk into the hero course”

that was it

I had it 

“HØR DU ET LITT JÆVEL DET JEG ER MINST OM TENSENS AV ANDRE MENNESKER OG HAR IKKE RYGGALEN TIL EN KOKT SPAGHETTI NUDLE! JEG ER OVERRASKET OVER AT DE LATER SÅ BEKLÆRLIG Unyttig, JÆVEL MISLYKKET ABORT SOM DU PÅ DENNE SKOLEN I DET HELT! NÅ BARE LA MEG OG KLASSEN MIN BARE!”***

the whole cafeteria went dead silent 

I could feel the hot tears burning behind my eyes 

but I didnt care

I sprinted out of the room and ran back to my dorm room

Kirishima’s POV

what just happened

I look over at Bakubro and he looks just as shocked and confused as me

where on earth did Y/N learn to yell that loud?

something is going on

“We have to go after her”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this but I agree”

so we now just had to think of where she could have gone

Your POV

the second the door shut behind me I locked in and sunk to the floor and started to cry uncontrollably as I remembered everything about today and everything I said.

god it hurt

I started to sing Let you Down and without me knowing my quirk started to bloom again and the heptagonal gem in my chest started to glow too

“Feels like we're on the edge right now” “I wish that I could say I'm proud”

“I'm sorry that I let you down” “I let you down”

“All these voices in my head get loud” “I wish that I could shut them out” “I'm sorry that I let you down” “Let you down”

as I finished the second verse I heard banging on my door

“Y/N KRONSEN OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR”

I never in my life realized that the Katsuki Bakugou would use someone’s actual name much less their full name

“I don’t want to burden you Suki”

Kirishima chimes in

“Y/N baby please let us in we just want to help it really is no burden at all”

“YEAH LET US IN OR I’M GOING TO BLOW THIS FUCKING DOOR OFF THE HINGES”

then I barely heard what Kirishima said next

“Bakubro we don’t need to do that. I got a better idea.”

oh no

oh god please no

click clink

CLICK

creak

then they both walked in and crossed their arms silently looking at my shriveled up form 

Kiri is the first to speak up

“Y/N please tell us whats happening”

“really it’s not that big a deal I’m just being a baby”

“No if you literally run out of the room and scream then it’s bad”

sigh

“fine”

I then told them everything. The lamp, running late, being tripped, the incident with mineta, and how I finally snapped when Monoma called my quirk a villain’s quirk.

“What did you even say to him? Just curious”

“inhale LISTEN HERE YOU A LITTLE FUCKING SHIT I AM AT LEAST CONSIDERATE OF OTHER PEOPLE AND DO NOT HAVE THE SPINE OF A COOKED SPAGHETTI NOODLE! I AM SURPRISED THAT THEY LET SUCH DEPLORABLE USELESS FUCKING FAILED ABORTION LIKE YOU IN THIS SCHOOL AT ALL! NOW JUST LEAVE ME AND MY CLASS ALONE!”***

“i’m not proud of what I said because it was mean.”

“he deserved it”

“KIRI?!?!?!”

“what you stood up for yourself without being violent”

“I just want to be left alone right now.”

“no”

“wha-”

“get on the bed”

“huh?!”

“you heard me”

“Kiri put her on the bed”

“ok”

all of a sudden Kirishima picked me up princess style and got onto my bed with me and held me close to him literally as tight as he possibly could while nuzzling his cheek to my face and whispering “I love you my adorable cutie” over and over

the blush on my face was redder than his hair. 

“take it back”

“w-what?”

“take back every nasty thing you said about yourself today”

“what’s wrong with me telling the truth?”

Bakugou looks at Kirishima and nods

next thing I know my wrists are pinned above my head with Kirishima smiling down at me 

“come on my cutie pie please just one little smile and nice thine about yourself”

“um...I guess I’m kind of strong? I um.. kind of shattered my alarm clock again.” and I gave the most natural looking fake smile of all tme.

“MMm-yeah no looks like were gonna have to get it out of you”

“w-what?”

“ready Bakubro?”

“let’s get going with this”

Kirishima then starts giving little butterfly kisses all over my face and Bakugou started... KISSING MY TUMMY?!!

The more the kisses get faster the more I squirm.

then all of a sudden...

“PFFFF”

yep. Bakugou blew a fat raspberry on my tummy 

“hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahanohohohohohohohohoho”

“aww look at that Katsuki our precious little cutie is ticklish~”

“pleahehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehese nohohohohohohohohohohohoho lehehehet mehehehehehehe gohohohohoho”

“I wonder where else she’s ticklish~”

“NO WAIT PLEASE-”

“too late cutie your laugh got me hooked”

then Kirishima dug his fingers into my ribs

“tickle tickle tickle my little gigglebug~”

“HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO”

“Damn Kiri you weren’t kidding she has the cutest damn tummy I’ve ever seen

would be a shame if we...”

“WAIT SUKI PLEASE NOT MY TUMMY PLEASE NOT MY PUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHDGE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

“... left it out of all the fun. tickle tickle my shy little nerd~”

suddenly Kirishima was scribbling his finger in my armpits and my laughter went up 2 whole ass octaves

”PLEAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE”

“coochie coochie coo my sweet little cutie~”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHASE NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORE”

“fine I think you’ve had enough, right Bakubro?”

“one more thing...”

“PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT”

“NYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

“now I’m done”

Kirishima pulled me into his lap and whispered “we love you baby”

then Bakugou pulled both of us onto his lap and he surprisingly snuggled both of us?

“I’m gonna kick his ass”

“who?”

“noodle spine”

“oh”

Fin~

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

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Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

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Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

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It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

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You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

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Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

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[multiplefandomsblog]

request; Can I request Nagito, Kokichi, and Rantaro with an s/o that has a hard time understanding why someone feels a certain emotion in situations?

pairing(s); rantaro x gn!reader, nagito x gn!reader, kokichi x gn!reader

warnings; blood, violence, broken noses, strong language, kind of angsty — sorry that nagito's is super long- i started off with him and i haven't written in a long time so i just shit all over the place, fluff at kokichi, i have mood swings I'm so sorry about the whiplash you are about to witness

note; yesss i am back to finish these requests yurrrrrr sjansjdhfbasdkjfds I'm not gonna make a big announcement or anything(I'm still trying to figure out how to balance everything in my life rn, so I'm sorry for people who are waiting on me—) , just gonna spit out as many finished requests as i can, sorry for the abrupt pause of everything by the wayz ill be (hopefully) regularly posting works from now on.

(also this request was kind of vague, so i used the example of someone getting upset/angry and reader not understanding why; i hope that's okay :'))

Nagito Komaeda

◊ I think Nagito would understand your struggles more than anyone else.

◊ And… honestly, it kind of reassures him that you share a struggle with him. It makes him feel less alone, less like the odd one out.

◊ Being similar to someone like you in any way, even if it was a genuinely difficult and real struggle; was a blessing in disguise for someone as lowly as him.

◊ Getting that out of the way, Nagito would never see your struggle as what it is. The way he views you, how highly he puts you up on a pedestal, as well as how much hope he believes you to hold; he, at first*, won't help you at all with your struggles.

◊ As a strong believer of hope overcoming despair, good defeating bad; Nagito is positive that the struggles you hold will always be defeated, bludgeoned into a despairing sludge by your all-mighty hope.

◊ And at first, he won't even think of this as a bad thing! You should be proud of it, of course, unless it stirs despair within you.

◊ * That being said, if he sees you struggling with your inability to understand human reactions to an awful point, he would put his obsession with hope aside, and focus on trying to help you as your boyfriend.

◊ Though I'm afraid, he wouldn't be much of a help, because he gets stuck on this one too.

◊ If you ever unintentionally angered someone, however, and/or provoked them to potentially hurt you; he'd immediately step in and lay the damp washcloth of apologies on the accidental fire you had set.

◊ Though there is a high chance, he'll make it worse by saying something he hadn't intended to sound condescending. It just came out that way.

◊ Nagito would never put your well-being before his insatiable need for you to accelerate and empower your hope.

◊ He's your boyfriend before he is your admirer of hope.

— "What...? How can you- how can you be so calm!?" Confusion, fear, and intimidation seemed to overwhelm you as you stepped back, eyebrows creased in utmost confusion as the person before you, seemed to have been angered by your wording.

Suddenly, you had started repeating and reversing over what you had previously said, scanning your wording for things that could have been perceived as offensive; only to grow even more confused as you had found none.

"I... What? Are you... are you mad at me or something?" Your genuine tone of voice, as well as the genuine look of confusion on your face, had been blurred and unnoticed as the ugly emotion of anger seemed to destroy their human senses— and the person had unfortunately taken your question as an insult.

Without another word, the sickening crunch of flesh and bone hitting flesh and bone echoed throughout the trial room. Flesh and bone that had thankfully, and unfortunately, hadn't belonged to you.

"Holy- Someone hold them back!"

"There's... no need for that...!"

Turns out Nagito took the hit for you.

He peeled the hand tending to his nose away from his face, revealing the nasty bruising and the blood dripping down his nostril—despite the gruesome sight of it all, he still seemed to be smiling. Smiling as if something amazing had just happened, and he was dying from the joy he had been feeling.

He wasted no time to spew out whatever he could think of, despite the shock and adrenaline from getting a broken nose, he still fought through the struggle to speak properly, as well as merely breathing without immense pain.

It was like second nature to him, to steer the blame and the aggression away from you—even if it almost killed him. Anything... to protect his hope.

"Haha, this is... Whatever you need to achieve your hope, whether it be a good old-fashioned beat-down or... murder;" a laugh crossing the line to psychotic erupted from Nagito's scratchy throat.

"I personally invite you all—especially (name)—to bruise me up and brutally murder me for your pleasure, and your hop!" —all at the expense of him making sure no one gets the chance to lay a single finger laid onto you.

◊ He loves you, and he swears this is out of (mostly) good intention <3?

◊ i- i think i lost it somewhere in the middle

Rantaro Amami

◊ Literally, the most understanding, supportive, and comforting man you will ever meet and have as an emotional support boyfriend when you struggle with humans and just... humans.

◊ For first impressions, Rantaro will remain as understanding as he already had been, and is. If he visibly sees you struggle with the reactions of others to specific situations, he'd never start up shit, as well as assume you mean something bad immediately. He will always give you the benefit of the doubt, and the fact that he loves you may have been a factor — but I swear, he does this with everyone else too.

◊ If you ever responded/reacted to something that normal human beings usually respond differently, Rantaro would definitely notice, but he wouldn't say anything until he had his suspicions confirmed — and until someone else decided to get pissy or upset about it.

◊ If you ever get into a conflict with someone about how you seem emotionless( even though you're really not ), Rantaro will always be there to defend you and back you up. The first thing he would do is try to understand your side, then their side, and then try to see how the two fit together, and how you both grew to have your reaction.

◊ Most conflicts and arguments end peacefully, at fault to Rantaro's experience of being exposed to many personality types(his sisters), and completely normal and human struggles(also his sisters).

◊ Though, notice how I said most.

◊ Some situations and arguments, really can't be resolved, nor looked past—especially when personal, and very strong feelings are involved. You really can't avoid it when people are still grieving.

◊ But even so, Rantaro will remain a mediator and a peace-keeper until the end; he doesn't and never has enjoyed violence or super over-the-line arguments.

— "N- no, I a- actually don't understand...! I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, shut up! No one's believing that crap!" The shock and the hurt from their words had visibly affected you — the disbelief and their rage hadn't done anything to calm your anxiety from not having understood what had been wrong.

Rantaro would intrude on the one-sided argument, a gentle yet nervous smile on his face as he tried to put some distance between you and the person who had gotten offended. "Hey now, I understand you're upset, but it'll be safer for all of us if you don't insult them. I'm sure this was just a big misunderstanding... let's sit down, yeah?"

◊ If you ever feel frustrated or upset about a past interaction with someone he had reacted in a way you hadn't expected, feel free to expect Rantaro to be there for you with his comfort. Whether it be assurances, hugs, or just a listening ear; he'll be there for you.

◊ He may not understand your struggles to an extreme extent, but he will try his best to empathize with you and to understand you; and if he doesn't? That's okay. Because he still has cuddles + listening to you rant as his plan B solution on getting your frustrations out.

Kokichi Ouma

◊ Kokichi... doesn't understand you at all.

◊ It's second nature to him to react abnormally or to over-exaggerate towards something that probably shouldn't have gained a reaction like that — but that doesn't necessarily mean that had been his true reaction from the start.

◊ They're lies, well, most of it.

◊ When Kokichi notices your confusion, or if you come to him about your frustrations; he won't believe you at first. It's a stupid thing to not trust someone about, yeah, but he lies all the time about this kind of thing — so not only would he feel terrible if you were telling the truth about your real struggle, he would-

◊ Oh, you're telling the truth?

◊ ... Oh.

◊ Well, of course, he feels horrible for his past faked reactions and lies. A part of him believes it to be his fault entirely, whilst the larger, louder part of him believes it to be someone else's fault.

◊ And he's a liar; so of course, he'll lie. To himself, at least.

◊ "Wha—!? Who's been confusing my beloved? Gimme names and I'll get 'em!"

◊ He's not much of a listener, nor a person who really just... talks about serious shit. So despite not wanting to talk directly about serious things, as well as not being the best at comforting you in a 'serious' manner, he has his own little way of dimming your frustrations with human beings.

◊ He won't show it, nor will he mention it, but he does try to be more transparent with you; as well as tries to be less confusing when talking and/or interacting with you.

◊ The reactions are dimmed down, and despite that, he still continues to be silly and still continues to joke around — just not in a way that'll frustrate or confuse you(ish). He's all about getting reactions out of you, especially frustration but, he wouldn't purposely augment your anxiety about this type of thing.

◊ ^^ If he was to do that, however, he would always tell you it was a lie afterwards. After all— despite enjoying the thought of you thinking of him all week—he doesn't want you stressing and/or overthinking about it for the rest of the week.

◊ Kokichi definitely feels guilty of your struggles, however, they may have not blossomed directly from him, he still feels horrible for triggering it? You? — look- what he's trying to say is, he feels awful, and he hadn't meant to make your struggle with understanding other human beings, worse.

◊ Though there are times he does find your confusion and gullibility to be sort of entertaining in a way, but he would constantly feel bad about finding pleasure in your frustration.

◊ Kind of bad.

— "Nishishi! I'm just saying, if someone took a fat shit on my lawn, I would thank them—"

"Wh- Seriously.. ? Why??"

◊ He finds it hilarious how you seem to take his words to heart, but of course, fun comes to an end as he says—

— "Nope! It's a lie!"

[cheesy-cakey]

Along with my heart

Lilia X reader

[Mentions of blood and death]

It was any other day in the Diasomnia dorm. Aside from the absence of one of Malleus' guards. Yuu took notice of this while visiting.

"I had noticed, Lilia, isn't here. Where is he today?" Yuu asked

"He went out to the Valley of Thorns to visit someone." Silver answered.

"Visit someone? who could be more important than Wakasama!?"

"That would be, Y/N, Sebek" Malleus walked in to answer Sebek's question.

Sebek realized what time of year it was and quieted down. "Lady Y/N. So it was that time of year now"

"Ah! Tsunotaro. You're here. Also who's, Y/N?" he asked.

"She was someone dear to, Lilia. He always visits here at this time of year." Malleus explained.

"Really? What kind of person is she?"

"She was a kind, gentle and pure soul. She was Lilia's lover."

"Lilia's lover? I didn't know he had a lover. I'd love to meet her one day" Yuu said excitedly.

Everyone fell silent to the point it was almost deafening.

"Guys?"

"That... would be impossible" Silver muttered.

"Impossible?"

"Would you like the full story, child of man?" Malleus asked.

"If it's not much to ask for"

"Very well... where do I start?"

A long time ago was in a forest by the valley of thorns lived a kind and gentle fae. She had beautiful h/c hair, glistening s/c skin, and a pure white soul.

She had one day bumped into a fae soldier... well more like she was spooked by said soldier.

"Hello there!" A petite boy exclaimed hanging upside down from a tree.

"GAH!... Huh?... who are you?" The girl asked.

"Haha! where are my manners?" he got off and stood firm on the ground "Lilia Vanrouge, A soldier from the Valley of Thorns."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Lilia Vanrouge. My name is Y/N L/N and it's a pleasure to meet you."

And that's where it started. Lilia would often sneak out to meet the lady in the forest.

They'd share each others opinions, have picnics, and just chat in general. Then one day.

"Please accept my feeling, Sir Lilia!" the girl exclaimed as she hands him a gemstone.

Lilia laughed as he also brought out a gemstone. The girl was in a daze but was brought back by Lilia locking their lips together.

"Lilia, if you could describe our love as something what would it be?"

"Simple! An Amaranth, why? It represents immortality and eternal love. The perfect example"

But all good things must come to an end as one day... the forest caught on fire.

Lilia was first to arrive to the area than the others and started frantically looking for his beloved in burning forest.

When he eventually falls upon a gruesome scene that he wished to unsee.

His beloved, bleeding out from her neck. The culprit... A human who held a sliver dagger that was covered in blood.

He stood there stunned. unable to comprehend what had just happened.

As the fire died out and rain started to fall. He approached his lover that was lying in her own pool of blood and cradled her in her arms. As he let out a cry that could probably be heard all the way from the palace.

"Y/N... Love, Dear.... No, don't do this to me. We planned a future. To live happily in the forest. To have a family. To live a long life... why"

She was buried in the place where they had first met. Beneath flowers that represented their love, Amaranth's.

"Our love... is still immortal... despite everything"

Tears fell from his eyes as his eyes stuck on the beautiful rock monument that he made himself.

"And since that day on he visited her grave at this time of year... Even now we know how much he still loves her" Malleus finished.

"Oh... I see... sorry for asking" Yuu said as he looked down.

"Don't be!" a voice from behind exclaimed.

They snapped their head towards the voice to see Lilia with his usual smug look.

"Lilia-Sama!"

"Old man, you're back."

"Lilia"

"Ah! Lilia... I didn't mean to pry on your love life"

"It's alright, Yuu! Everyone can be a little curious sometimes. And that was a long time ago so it's no biggie. Maybe next time I go visit her you can come with so you can meet her!"

"If you don't mind."

"Of course, not! Now... Who wants to have some soup I made!"

"I think we'll be seeing, Y/N-san, sooner than expected at this rate."

[witchyfroggins]

A/N: haha, i had this idea in mind for awhile so seeing that people havent taken the holden opportunity for a oneshot or reader insert i guess my time has come!

Also the reader is said to be female but you can change it otherwise i dont mind.

Summary: in the unlikely events of an adventurer coming across the gate to the shivering isles in hopes of stopping the infinite loop of the greymarch a ball is to be hosted as a last hurrah.

Warnings: Emotions (possibly)

_______________________________

Everyone in the Isles gathered in Sheoth at this evening dresses in bright or dim clothes dependinf where they rein from. Mania or dementia. You were from (Mania/Dementia) you wore a (Favorite Dress) along with your hair pinned up by a white flower from Mania's garden that you managed to sneak or just take.

The normally deserted streets were littered with people in creative masks and beautiful gowns. You had a white owl mask with real soft feathers. It only covered your eyes so you had a deep (Favorite color) Lipstick on your lips.

You were new to the isles so the reason for this beautiful Mascerade was a mystery to you but you'll enjoy it nonetheless.

Everyone was enjoying their time. Chatting with eachother, drinking and eating as they waited for the arrival of their very special guest. You knew who it was of course, the famed daedric prince of madness, sheogorath.

When you had arrived for the first time. You were confused and scared, the white bearded man welcomed you with a surprisingly warm smile on his face. Why did you not kill you? You never found out.

After that, in time you managed to serve under him from (Mania/Dementia). You always admired him. Your fear faded as soon as you looked into those golden cat like eyes. You, for a lack of a better word, interested in this prince. He could also say the same for you.

Presenting yourself so rawly to him. It was if he could see a fraction of himself in your eyes. You were nothing like the other mortals who had been sent to him after a a gruesome death. He wanted to get to know you better. So you stayed.

Back at the ball you navigated your way to the small bar that had been set up to get a drink. You were a nervous wreck, you weren't one to always wear fancy clothes. Let alone be in a fancy ball. This might as well be your first time.

As you were sipping on a glass of red wine the noise of the ball faded as everyone gazed upon the stairs as a figure appeared wearing a rather unfitting suit for the prince of madness. It was purple and styles like your normal Tuxedo but it was decorated with a golden floral pattern on one side while the other was a black thorn pattern. He dawned a golden feline eye mask above his nose.

Of course he was accompanied with his Chamberlain Haskill in his normal attire despite the event.

Everyone soon stopped their conversation as the mad prince raised both of his arms in the air with a wide cat grin on his bearded face.

"Let the Mascerade begin!" He Declared earning a cheer of approval as the floating orchestra began to play a tune on their own.

Everyone went back to their business as the mad prince stood from the top of the stairs gazing at what could be the last heart filled moment in a long time. The greymarch was upon him and he didnt have the courage to tell (y/n). But he couldn't find the right time.

As if by coincidence his eyes landed on her form. Awkwardly shuffling to the back of the room in her beautiful (Favorite color) gown and white owl mask. As if a predator was drawn to its prey he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Normally he would refrain himself from dancing with the locals. It wasnt good for reputation. But he may not get another chance. He cringed at the thought of becoming Jyggalag and hurting her.

As if battling with his own mind he had finally come to a conclusion. You only live once, as mortals say even though he was a daedric god. She could only live once.

Before he could even register what he was doing he found himself moving down the stone stairs. Grabbing the attention of his loyal followers as they fearfully cleared the floor for him as he strided confidently towards you.

It was only when he was a few feet away from you, you realised him. Almost choking on your wine as he stood in front of you in an almost intimidating way. But when you looked up to him as he was taller then you. You could see his eyes. The pupils weren't their usual shape. They were wider, his beautiful yellow irises shy of disappearing.

Quickly you placed your glass down and bowled.

"L-Lord sheogorath, how can i help you?" You asked forcing the words our of your mouth joping to play it cool. However your voice betrayed you at that moment.

You awaited his response. The simplest things could tick him off bu tonight there will always be an exception. He looked down at you, he just laughed. Not his usual maniacal laugh. It was soft almost inaudible to the people around him. But he made certain you heard it.

He hooked a finger under your chin grabbing your attention as he guided your head to look at him. You could feel the heat rise on your cheeks as you gazed up at him. A kind smile on his face.

After a moment he steppes back giving enough space between you two for him to bow to you! A mortal. The crowd began to stir, whispering among themselves as he reaxhed out with his hand.

"A dance? Mi'lady?" He asked in his usual scottish accent that sent a shver down your spine.

You by all means would jump at the chance of dancing with him. But with the people staring and whispering behind their masks she felt as if it was wrong.

"Are you certain my lord?" You asked in an accent of your own. Oh how he loved to hear you speak. It made him feel as if he were flying. Well he can fly but it was different.

He didnt speak a word sending a glare to those around them. And with one swift movement he took you gently by the hand pulling you towards his chest. One arm sliding around your waist with ease.

"Don't mind them my dear. Tonight it's just about you and me" he whispered in your ear. He waited to long for this moment for so long and it was finally here.

He couldn't help but bask in your presence. Your smell, the feeling of you in his arms. It was beautiful. He guided you to the dance floor. Your dress swaying with his movements.

The band began to play once again. The lamps that hung on strings between the buildings changed into a beautiful red hue as it focused only on them.

You averted your eyes from him. To embarrassed to look his way. He wasn't impressed by this and with a small 'tsk' freeing one hand only to hook it under your chin once more as if it never left.

"I dont much like people averting my gaze (y/n). If it wasn't for your exquisite beauty i would have had you displayed as a carpet in my throne room" he stated his voice staying the same mono tone. It almost scared you if not for his hidden compliment.

He enjoyed dancing with you. Having you entwined with his own dark soul as he spun you around. However his glee wouldn't last long. There was still the dire situation to come and he has yet to tell you. Maybe he doesn't.

Sheogorath had a beautiful idea. A way to show his affection for you and get you out of danger.

With one simple movement he spun you around once again before dipping you low enough for your hair to become undone and hit the stone floor. He kept you their for some time. Just admiring how you looked. The red of your cheeks brought out your beautiful (eye color) eyes.

You couldn't hear anything above your own racing heartbeat as the close proximity of your face and his. His breath mingling with yours. Drawing you ever so closer to him.

With out a warning his lips connected with your own. It was just as you imagined it, soft, warm and slightly chasped but it was perfect.

Both of your lips moved in perfect sinc with eachother. As if you were made for him. A perfect mortal molded into his liking without his torment. You were perfect. He couldn't let you call to his lesser half.

He pulled you back onto your feet. Never removing his lips from yours. Spinning you around fast enough that you couldn't see straight. Then the last words you would probably ever hear from him in some time.

"I'm sorry"

His words confused you but as soon as you regained your balance and the world stopprd spinning you realised you were not in the isles anymore. You were in nirn.

____________________________

All done!

Wow! That took longer then i though and it is longer then i thought.

Anyway part 2??

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 17

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

“Push me off the roof you coward!”

First< Previous > Next

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“So do you want to be Batman or should I?” Marion brings out the two outfits identical in every way except size.

“It’s not actually dressing up,” Marinette scolds fixing her hair.

“Well then you single handedly ruined halloween,” Marion grins coming up behind her, “Everyone wears them for it,”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Marinette watches him warily in the mirror, prepared to defend if-when he makes a move to mess up her hair.

“So Batman or Robin?” Marion holds the outfits up, dangerous close to her head.

“I don’t care,” Marinette stands up, spinning around, using the chair as a shield.

“Coin flip then,” Marion drapes them over the chair, “Oooh foreshadowing!”

“Please tell me you're going to take this marginally seriously?” Marinette leans back on the dresser as he fishes for a coin.

“You’re starting to sound like our manager,” Marion flips the coin with extra flare, “Heads,”

“You should thank Kate for setting this up,” Marinette catches the coin before he can, “Tails,”

She takes the Robin outfit from the chair, ducking Marion as she passes.

“You know I don’t think Kate wants to see me,” Marion takes his outfit behind the opposite curtain, “She's pretty stressed something will go wrong,”

“In Gotham?” Marinette pokes her head out the curtain on the other side of the room.

“I know, crazy right,” Marion also peaks through the curtain, “Where would she get that idea?”

“Who knows?” Marinette cheekily grins before ducking back behind the curtain.

“If we get attacked again I think we might give aunt- I mean,” Marion pauses pulling on his grey turtleneck, “ugh, this is hard,”

“Mari, the outfits are designed for easy use,” Marinette teases, tone sounding half hearted even from this distance.

“What are you calling her in your head?” Marion pulls the turtle neck down all the way.

“Selina,” Marinette answers, as he shrugs on his hooded crop top over the turtleneck, split into two colours to make a vague bat-shape. “Although I just avoid saying it out loud,”

“Great minds think alike,” Marion pulls on his grey leggings, that Marinette had thankfully made into thermals.

“I’m the only great mind here,” Marinette teases, Marion lets out fake gasp as he pulls a pair of shorts over his leggings, “You just like to copy,”

“How dare you!” Marion pulls the curtains aside dramatically, Marinette doesn't even look up from where she's putting on bracelets, “Dishonour! Dishonour on you, Dishonour on your kwami! Dis-”

“Hey!” Tikki flies out of the backpack.

“Sorry Tikki,” Marion looks away from the fuming Kwami, trying to avoid her by pulling on his black and blue boots.

“It’s ok Tikki,” Marinette finishes putting green and gold bracelets up to her elbows, “He’s just trying to be funny,”

“And succeeding!” Marion corrects, smoothing a mask over his eyes.

“Ah-ha,” Marinette stands, black and yellow scarf flaring out at the back.

“You know I don’t think she agrees,” Marion stage whispers to Plagg from his bag.

“Ah-ha,” Plagg says in the same tone, as Marion is pulling on his black gloves.

“Traitors, all of you,”

“Hey look,” Marinette bumps his shoulder, nodding towards someone.

“It’s Jason,” Marion whispers back excitedly, moving to wave.

“MCD doesn't know him,” Marinette grabs his arm, “Let’s hope this isn’t as awkward as it was with Chloe,”

“I thought that was fun,”

“Of course you did,”

"Hi," Jason approaches nervously, completely different to how Marion's met him before, it's cute.

"Oh hello, stranger," Marion grins, ignoring the kick from Marinette, he'll be careful, it's fine he's got this, "Whats your name?"

"Jason," Oh my God he's blushing!

"Jasin," Marion repeats pretending to write on what he was handed.

"Um…." Jason looks like he's about to correct Marion, this will be perfect- "yep,"

Fuck fuck fuck i though he would correct me fuck, Marinette help!  Marinette rolls her eyes at his pleading look.

"Jason, CD," Pointing to the page without writing, "son,"

"Ohhhh Jason,” Marion says, as if he had come to some amazing realisation, Marinette looks like she wants to slap him, “haha, sorry, of course, I just didn’t hear you right, because I don’t know your name, why would I know your name? It's-"

Marinette rightfully cuts off his rambling with a swift kick, that both knew would never actually hurt him. At least Jason looks just as embarrassed as him, neither quite knowing how to start the conversation back up,"

"How about we take a picture?" Marinette says, their saving grace.

"Yeah, that would be great," Jason fumbles for his phone, Marion hopes his mask will cover his blush, as he remembers what Jason had said about him at dinner, the only reason he was blushing.

They take a nice picture together. Then one where Marion throws bunny ears behind MDC. She swats his hand away and he pushes her out of frame. The next picture is one of him and Jason with Marinette rising up, like a threatening blur in the background.

"Aw thats a nice picture" Marion looks over Jason shoulder, they were meant to be with the next person already but they were a design hopeful, babbling to MDC about her designs, "You should send it to me,"

"Of course," Jason seems flustered with his proximity, enough so that he didn't see Marion's trap.

"Great heres my number," Marion quickly writes it down on blank piece of paper, a picture seeming a bit too narcissistic at that point.

"...Waut,"

"Well you have to send it to me someway," Marion shrugs, conveniently ignori-forgetting that pictures were sent through his social media all the time.

"Right... right," Jason seems to be in a bit of a daze when Marion sends him off, standing next to Marinette as the fan leaves.

They watch Jason leave. Marinette starts giggling when he almost runs into a wall.

“Are you ok?" Marion asks, partly for the security guard who was waiting for their ok to send the next person up.

“You are such a dork,” She breaths through her upcoming laughter, “I think I need a minute,”

“Fine but if I get a hopeful fashion designer I’m telling them your new direction is crocs,” Marion huffs, not really insulted, but if he didn't act it she would only up the anti.

“Do it and your casket will be made out of crocs,” Marinette threatens ineffectively, walking to the backstage door.

“I kinda want to see that,”

“You’d be dead,” Marinette calls from the door.

“Minor issue,”

Marinette waves him off, which could have been an aborted swat. He watches as the crowd nearby begin whispering, some offering others to go first to stall for time. Marion plans to shove this in her face next time Marinette claims she isn’t popular. He’s about to take a camera out for evidence when one of the groups, fast tracked but the crowd, approaches.

Marion goes to do his more basic greetings when a gun is shoved in his face. The group made up of armed men surrounding him, one holding a camera.

“Smile for the camera,” The figure pulls his coat back, revealing the frankly disturbing face of the Joker.

“Oh it’s you,” Marion keeps a blank face, evidently confusing him, “Any chance two-face will show up?”

“.... No?” Marion fights to keep his composure as the crowd are threatened by the remaining thugs, pushing them to the ground.

“Pity, what a waste of good foreshadowing,” Marion shrugs casually, that camera is probably filming.

“What,” Marion supposes its a rare thing to see the Joker taken aback, but watching a group of armed men storm backstage distracts him from the sight.

“Nothing, I just made a brilliant joke earlier and you're sort of ruining it,” Marion makes exaggerated gestures, testing his limits, the guns follow him but don’t shoot. “Anyway are you here for an autograph or what?”

“I’m not-” He watches the Joker's face twist in gruesome realisation, “you’re trying to stall me,”

“Stall you from what?” Marion tries not to make his scan of the crowd obvious, “Please go in depth,”

“How about on the way up to the roof?” Chilling smile, but Marion is too used to fear to let it get to him.

“Oh goodie, I hear it has wonderful views,” Marion claps his hands, probably getting weird looks from the goons hiding behind masks, but who are they to judge?

He’s guided to the elevator. The Joker making the mistake of not tying his hands, or gagging him. He feels Kaalki and Plagg tense in his pocket.

“Huh, no elevator music,” Marion observes as the elevator starts to rise, “I just kind of expected it at this point,”

“You are strange,” Marion makes the mistake of glancing over, the Joker does not seem perturbed by that fact.

“You’re telling me that?” Marion tilts his head, “Actually that's quite the achievement,”

The Joker starts to go on about his plan, something about throwing MCD off the roof in front of the crowd for whatever reason, he’s not really listening. No, instead he’s made his own plan. There's no way Marinette was caught, not when she has no one to look after. She must be somewhere in the building, probably as Sparrow. It’s best if Sparrow and Songbird are seen near their other identities as little as possible, so he had to deal with the camera. If she saw the footage, which was probably being broadcast (a brilliant idea, really, no problems with that) she would intercept them. The best position would be on the elevator, but he had to buy time.

The cameras closest so he strikes, hitting it out of the goons hand, mid sentence. In the split second confusion he hits the number panel, lighting up all but a few.

“Huh, that was easy,” Marion says with genuine surprise.

“And here I thought you were being a good hostage,” Marion feels several guns press against him, but it’s only the pistol with the Joker at the end that worries him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Marion smirks cockily, the threats turning more violent.

No, not threats, promises. Marion debates calling on Kaalki, while he’s still able too. It wouldn’t be great for a miraculous to be seen in a different country, but better than the one that can teleport than Ladybug. If Marinette couldn’t stop them in time she would surely turn to Ladybug and pick him up as he falls, right in front of the crowd and cameras. Not great.

There were other heroes in Gotham, they both knew. And if it was just him at stake he would put faith in them. But it’s not. He’s Chat Noir and there's not enough time to train a new Black Cat, not anymore.

The elevator finally reaches the top. Marion braces to help Marinette fight on the other side of the door. It opens. There’s no one. Great, great, great .

“Well, well, well why don’t we see what's behind that mask and carve up your pretty face, hm?” Joker leads him close enough to the edge of the building that anyone else should be scared.

“That sounds counter productive,” Might as well try plan b, he should have come up with one, but as is he’ll have to wing it, “Weren’t you going to throw me off the roof?”

“Eager aren't you?” Not really  “After, promise,”

That grin paired with the knife inching closer should scare him, but honestly the only thing that truly scares him anymore is someone going for his ring, or Ladybug’s.

“What's the point? I’d be dead soon anyway, sounds like a waste of time,” Marion debates adding a yawn to match the tone, but it seems like overkill.

“A few screams are never a waste of time,” Marion is backed up further to the edge of the roof, able to see the fretting crowd below.

“Sounds to me like you just don’t have any confidence,” Marion says with all the sass he can muster, which is a lot.

“Oh, do explain,” The knife inching closer to the edge of his mask encourages the opposite, but he was never much good with warnings.

“If you really believe your plan will work and I wouldn’t be saved by I-don’t-know, Batman?” Yep that strikes a cord, probably not the best cord to strike with a knife in your face, oh well his wounds will heal soon anyway, “Then you’d throw me over the roof, a few cuts doesn't matter much when your dead,”

He can see the gears turning, debating if there's merit to his bullshit or if it’s just that. Honestly Marion doesn't know either.

“Revealing my identity and stuff is just a way for you to feel like you’ve won when Batman beats you,” He carefully doesn't emphasise the ‘when’, making it sound casual, like a given fact, “Cutting my face is just admitting you think the heroes will win,”

Just a little bit more. He’s almost pulled off plan ‘b’ for bat-shit crazy. He has the horse miraculous in his grip, Kaalki won’t like it but it's hard to put glasses on in mid air.

“Besides, won’t the mask leave a bit more impact?”

Hook. Line. Sinker.

“You really think the Bats going to save you huh?” The grin is unnerving, so Marion matches it with one of his own.

“I do,” He challenges, chin tilted up, “do you,”

He hears a cackle that would have surely appeared in his fear toxin dream if he heard it before. He’s pushed, vest twisted in the jokers grip, trying to stay balanced on the very edge.

“I like you kid,” And yeah, by that smile it’s not a good thing.

“Goodie,” Marion says sardonically, ignoring the shouting below, probably because his torso is all the way off the edge.

“Make sure to scream,” He feels the grip loosen, not having the natural response to grab onto something.

“I won’t,” he sends one last smirk as he’s dropped, weight sending him off balance and off the edge.

He’s in free fall and knows the screaming is not his own. He’s too busy debating the right time to transform. The street is getting closer and closer, no staff or grappling hook to save him.

“Klakki!-”

The air gets knocked out of him at the sudden change in directions. He can feel the arm and hears the glass shattering. For all the speed of a few seconds ago he is not expecting the quiet that follows. He’s leaning forward against someone's chest, both crouched down inside the building he just fell from. He recognises the shade of red first, Marinette had spent weeks with it pinned up all over their room and Marion has been wearing it ever since. He relaxes.

“Are you ok?” He gets pulled back from the chest, his complaints are cut off, a gloved hand tracing over his cheek, he feels the sting so it must be cut.

“Yeah I’m fine,” Probably not convincing, since his crush is the closest he’s ever been and Marion is almost the same shade of red.

“You’re fine?” The disbelief is clear and it takes Marion a second to realise why.

“I mean… Oh no! Trauma!” Marion tries to fall dramatically but the arm still on his back catches him.

“Good thing you’re a popstar not an actor,” Marion feels relief at the stiff atmosphere relaxing.

“Excuse you,” He snaps back up, poking Red Hood’s chest, smirking, “I’d make a wonderful actor,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Red Hood looks away, as far as Marion can tell with the helmet, “You sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, are you?” Marion stresses, remembering that he broke through the glass.

“... what?” Red Hood's full attention comes back to him.

“Are you ok?” Marion tries not to get annoyed at the answer, humour then, “After all breaking through a window isn’t much fun,”

You idiot you can't use his line on him ! Not in different identities! What if he figures it out?!

“Yeah.. yeah," He looks away again, "I’m… great,”

Marion smiles, guess things did turn out great in the end.

“CD!” Marion jumps out his skin, both suddenly realising how they looked and stand, Marinette runs right up to him, “Are you ok!?”

“Yep I’m… great,” Marion exchanges a private glance with Red Hood as Marinette frets over him.

“Thank goodness,” She sighs, shoulders sagging, then coming back up to hit him over the head, “Then why are you such an idiot!”

“Natural talent?” Marion rubs the spot, she put some Ladybug strength in that one.

“At least you’re good at something,” She sighs, brushing her hand over the spot.

“Rude,” Marion pouts, even as his head feels better, and his cut is startling to close up.

“If every things ok then,” Red Hood says awkwardly, “I’ve got a clown to go beat up,”

I Forgot!! How do you forget that! Marion yells at himself When your crush saves you from falling to your death…. Less romantic than it seemed in the moment.

“Have fun….” Marion waves, increasing the awkwardness ten fold, “dear god, I am an idiot!”

He groans into Marinette's shoulder after Red Hood left.

“Yes, but blush later, we need to be ready to provide backup,” Marinette pulls him out of the room stepping over broken glass.

“Uh- yeah! Right! lets go,” Marion snaps out of it, running after her.

“You are such a mess,” She insults as they jog, or with their speed, sprint up the stairs.

“Of all people you don’t get to call me that,” Marion needn't remind her of how she spilt orange juice all over herself at breakfast.

“... You just fell off a building, I was talking about your clothes,” Marinette has on her, ‘you’re an idiot’ face, well practiced that one.

“Oh,”

“But yeah you are a walking disaster,” She speeds up.

“Hey!” Marion sprints after her.

They reach the roof, not as out of breath as they should be.

“I thought I told you to stay put?” Red Hood snaps, alone on the roof.

“You didn’t,” They chorus coincidentally.

“I thought you had common sense,”

“We don’t,” They chorus on purpose.

Red Hood just shakes his head, probably smiling under the helmet.

“So the Joker escaped?” Marinette is the first to wipe the grin off her face.

“He was gone when I got up here,” Red Hood shrugs, “Waiting on intel,”

Probably from oracle.

“I didn’t say thank you!” Marion realises, not used to being the one saved.

“You don’t have to,” He looks away again, “Just doing my job,”

“But I want to,” Marion walks into his line of sight “So thank you,”

“Yeah well… thanks too I guess,” He looks away again and it's starting to get annoying.

“For what,” Marion leans over enough that he should be in sight, but he can't see his eye to confirm.

“I like the outfit you designed off me,” Marion freezes, almost stumbling over, “The interview was… entertaining,”

With that killing blow, a grappling hook is sent out and Red Hook is whisked away.

“.... Hey, can I borrow your miraculous?” Marion says blankly when Marinette comes to stand by him, “I need to wish myself out of existence real quick,”

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

Taglist:

@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney @superbwhispersconnoisseur @biodad-bruce-month @nalu-ismyjam

[scullydubois]

Only the Light ch. 6

read on Ao3 here. read earlier parts here.

This was getting quite long, so I decided to cut what I planned to be chapter 6 in half. I’ll try to keep the chapters a bit shorter than they have been cause I know lots of people prefer that. Anyway, that means I’m now almost done with chapter 7 so that’ll be posted in a couple days too. 

Please let me know what you think in the tags or message me! I’d love to know if you think something like this should have been canon or even if you think it was canon, just not shown to the audience (is that possible? haha). 

Description: As Mulder and Scully begin their investigation in Aubrey, Scully finds herself sympathizing with the detective who found the bones more than she would prefer to.

*includes a few lines of dialogue from season 2, ep 12 “Aubrey.” Credit to Sara B. Charno, writer of that episode!*

WC: 2595 words

tagging @today-in-fic​. Thanks for all you do!

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

Scully stares at the bones on the autopsy table in front of her. She has always been capable of separating her feelings from her work. Too good at it, even. But right now, looking at these bones that have been in the ground since before she was even born, all she can think about is how they once were a living, breathing person’s. A partner. A son. An FBI agent just like her. She had narrowly escaped a similar fate. How? What made her survive while this man became a bundle of bones to be poked and prodded? She knows she shouldn’t dwell on it, but sometimes she wonders if her luck would stop if her overthinking did. 

Mulder mentions the killer the detective was investigating. Three victims, all young women between twenty-five and thirty. Scully’s current demographic. He doesn’t say that part, of course, but Scully’s thinking it, and perhaps he is too. The word ‘sister’ was carved onto their chests, then painted on the wall with their blood. That could have been her. 

Nevermind that she wasn’t alive in 1942, let alone living in Missouri. Horrific, misogynistic crimes had been happening well before she was born, and they would happen well after. Scully had no doubt something like this could happen to her at any time. A petite, female FBI agent? She would be the perfect victim.

She had been the perfect victim. And she survived! But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t victimized by all of it. Surviving doesn’t mean living. She is coming to terms with this. It is like going through it all over again.

She lifts one of the rib bones, runs her fingers over it. The rubber gloves catch on a series of tiny cuts down the length of it. Were these a result of decades underground, or had these been inflicted before the detective bled to death? She shivers at the thought.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice anchors her back in reality. 

She turns around. “Yes?”

“Are you cold?”

He had seen. He grips the edges of his jacket, prepared to place it on her shoulders at a moment’s notice.

She shakes her head. “No. I was just imagining being cut like this.” She points to the razor marks, each one a separate wound. 

Mulder winces. “Do you think that’s what killed him?”

Scully turns the bone over in her hands. It has known pain, and she can almost feel the ghost of it in the marrow. 

“I don’t know,” she says, meaning it. “That would be a horrific way to die.”

“Most ways are,” Mulder replies, not missing a beat. They stand there, this dead body adjacent to them, thinking about death, and life, and what it means to be a person. What a situation they have gotten themselves into. 

A few minutes later, they are looking at computerized scans of the bones when BJ, the detective who dug them up, enters. She asks Mulder a question about the case, but doesn’t seem to listen to his answer. It’s like she’s in a trance.

Just as quickly as she arrived, she goes, excusing herself and staggering out of the room. Mulder and Scully exchange a glance like two gossiping high schoolers. Wordlessly, Scully follows after BJ. She finds her in the women's restroom rinsing her mouth. A pang of guilt circulates through Scully’s insides. She and Mulder have involved themselves in something that is, frankly, none of their business, but it’s too late to back out now.

“Feeling better?” she asks, holding a clean paper towel out for BJ, who ignores it and pulls one from the dispenser herself.

“I’m fine now.” This is all she offers. 

Scully has given this answer enough times to know that BJ is most definitely not fine. She considers her options: she could respect BJ’s hostility toward her, pretend she saw nothing, & return to Mulder, or she could probe further into the situation and try to comfort BJ. She knows the terror that BJ must be feeling.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” The words leave Scully’s mouth before she registers deciding to say them. 

The terror surfaces on BJ’s face. “Does it show?”

“No, not yet,” Scully reassures, patting the detective on the shoulder. She will try to be the comfort she wishes she had at the moment. The comfort she knows she could have, but...

BJ interrupts her train of thought--”Now I know why my mother only had one child. She told me about the nausea, but not about the nightmares.”

Scully blinks. There’s that pang of guilt again. “Nightmares?”

BJ nods. “It's always the same. I'm in a house, it feels familiar. There's a woman that's been hurt. There's a mirror... I see a man's reflection. I recognize his face, but I don't know it. What I remember most is the blood.” She looks up at Scully with desperate eyes. “There's a lot of blood.”

Scully swallows. Hard. She can feel acid in her throat, the contents of her stomach threatening to follow BJ’s lead. She’s glad to be in the bathroom. Nightmares are not a particular indication of pregnancy, she knows this. But she also knows that changing hormone levels can trigger vivid, sometimes upsetting dreams--she had not connected those dots until just now.

“Have you talked to anyone about these nightmares?” Scully asks.

BJ shakes her head. “I'm sure it's something about the pregnancy. If anyone else knew I was pregnant…” She trails off in a way that makes Scully ache for all the women that have ever feared their own body, herself included. There could be no worse betrayal than one’s own body.

“Brian would kill me if I told anyone,” BJ finishes. Her fear is evident in her voice. Scully packs as much sympathy as she can into her glance at BJ. 

“Thank you for opening up,” she says. “I’m sorry about your situation. Let me know if I can help.”

BJ nods in acknowledgement, but doesn’t say anything. She lingers near the sink, as if waiting for the bell to dismiss her.

Scully can feel her uncertainty. “I won’t tell anyone,” she reassures.

BJ releases a breath. “Thank you. I need to...sort things out.”

“I understand.” Scully offers her a soft smile. BJ reciprocates, then quietly exits the bathroom.

Scully stands there a moment, hands in her pockets, heart in her throat. Then the queasy feeling passes, and she moves on.

She returns to the office and takes a seat next to Mulder. He’s gobbling some cookies while the computer analyzes the cut patterns on the bones. It is interesting what their line of work does to them; how it desensitizes them to the most gruesome of wounds, the most horrific of situations. She sometimes forgets that ordinary people don’t play doctor on dead bodies for a living, or chase phantoms, or get abducted by--well, plenty of people claim that’s happened to them. And she doesn’t see why, considering how unpleasant it all was. Is. Maybe that’s why people talk about it, because they just want someone to believe them, someone to know, but Scully’s mind has never worked that way. It’s exactly the kind of thing she’d like to forget forever and never share with anyone else. How shameful to get caught up in myths like that.

Mulder lifts an eyebrow, expecting a report on BJ. 

Scully shrugs. “Food poisoning.”

“Yuck. Remind me not to have what she’s having,” he wisecracks.

Scully’s teeth clamp down on her tongue. “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Mulder,” she says, a knowing edge to her voice. She wishes she could say the same about herself. 

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

They return to their motel after sunset. Mulder walks Scully to her door- number 13, to the right of his--and parts ways with her chastely, telling her he’s planning to set his alarm for 7am and saying goodnight. 

“Night, Mulder,” she says, twisting her key in the lock and pushing hard against the door stuck from humidity. She casts one final smile his way before entering her room, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Mulder turns his key in his room’s lock, but waits for Scully to disappear into the safety of her room before opening his own door. He is not going to lose her again.

Relieved to be in a space of her own after a long day of traveling and consorting, Scully switches on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. One queen-sized bed with a plaid comforter, a boxy TV with an antenna, a flimsy wooden desk, and a bathroom about three Scully steps deep. It is not much, these lodgings never are, but at least it’s not coming out of her paycheck. She pulls her badge from her jacket pocket and throws it on the bed. It does a backflip against the mattress. She shimmies off the jacket then, folding it up and setting it in the side of her suitcase reserved for the dirty laundry. One time Mulder saw the way she organized her suitcase and laughed. He’s more accustomed to throwing his worn clothes in a garbage bag...or just wearing them over again. 

The shoes come off next, lined up neatly by the door. She craves a shower. After spending the day with decades old bones, she is in need of a baptism. 

She flicks the bathroom light on, and the fluorescent bulb buzzes in protest. There’s no telling when this motel was built; the wall is supposed to be light blue, but entire sections of paint have chipped away into an aged white exterior. Fissures snake through nearly every square of the floor’s tile like they’re there for decoration. Scully looks for her reflection in the mirror and gets the blurry outline of a woman instead. The mirror is somehow permanently fogged. 

She ponders the science of that while she pulls back the shower curtain and turns the knob for hot water. It spurts noisily out of the faucet, interrupting her peace. Speaking of interrupting her peace...she remembers that she forgot to leave Missy the number for the motel. She is not used to someone keeping such close tabs on her. She switches off the water and heads for the phone.

She dials the number, her own number--now her sister’s too--and waits. One ring, then another, then Missy’s steady voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Missy. It’s me. I forgot to leave the number, I’m sorry.”

“So I take it you’re not coming home tonight?” She knew her sister never was, but she’ll milk it anyway. 

“No, we got a motel.”

“You already had the reservations, didn’t you?” Melissa inquires. “Or else how would you leave the number?”

Scully rolls her eyes, though she knows her sister can’t see it. Missy can probably sense it anyway. 

“We did, but we would have cancelled them if we didn’t need to stay. It looks like we’re taking the case.”

“Is it an interesting one, or can you not say cause it’s vital to the security of the nation or something,” Melissa teases.

“It’s pretty freaky, but nothing really supernatural. Just your run of the mill humans hurting other humans.”

“Hmm...I thought the suspect had to be like, a werewolf, to qualify as an X-file.”

Scully smiles. “Well, it’s like Scooby-Doo. You always think the culprit is some crazy creature, but then you unmask them and it’s just a cranky old man.”

“Even worse!” Missy quips.

Scully laughs. Her sister’s right. At this point, she’d be relieved to find out that the worst atrocities of humanity were not committed by humans after all, but by some beast with no morals, just instinct. Maybe she’d feel less guilty if she didn’t have to atone for all the sins she’s seen. If they weren’t the sins of humanity. 

“Anyway, you’ve got this number now, so just ask for room 13 if you need me. Or room 14 if you want to prank call Mulder, I don’t care. I’m about to hop in the shower, but did you have a good day?”

“Uh yeah, work was busy and I just got home a little bit ago. I’m waiting on some pad thai from that restaurant you suggested. Probably gonna veg out, watch some Golden GIrls, maybe do a face mask.”

“You’re living a life of luxury,” Scully murmurs.

“Very much so. How was your day?”

“It was...good.” Her voice rises unevenly between the words.

“That’s a ringing endorsement.” 

Scully can hear the hollow noise of Missy twirling the phone cord around her finger.

“The first day on a case is always a bit overwhelming,” she assures. “We’ll get through it.”

“I’m sure you will,” Missy replies with a flat voice, not at all impressed by her sister’s answer. 

“We always do.” There’s a note of optimism in her voice. The statement is more of a prayer than a reassurance. 

“Well, come home safely, okay? I’m not used to sleeping in a big city by myself.”

“I’ll be home as soon as possible,” Scully says, not holding herself to any safe returns. 

“You’d better.” The cheekiness in Missy’s voice takes Scully back to the conversations they had when Scully had just moved to college and would recount the titillating tales of living in a co-ed dorm. Having never had such an experience, Melissa would live vicariously through her stories, and Scully would realize that her sister would make much better use of the situation than she ever did. “Love you. Bye.”

“Bye, Missy,” she says with some weariness. She puts the phone in the receiver, closes her eyes, and wonders how many times she’s uttered that exact phrase. Twenty-nine years worth, so the number’s got to be high.

She returns to the bathroom, feeling significantly grungier than just a few minutes ago. She repeats the routine with the water, slipping off her pants and blouse as the room steams up. By the time her bare skin hits the water, sweat is sliding down the ugly walls.

Usually the motels they stay in don’t have very warm water, so this is a treat. She doesn’t usually take hot showers, seeing them as wasteful somehow. Maybe she subconsciously doesn’t want to increase her water bill. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t apply right now, and every muscle in Scully’s body softens as the water runs down it. Touch. How many times had she been touched today? Surely this is one of the only instances featuring a force with any life in it. It's the most intimate too. She ravishes in it. 

There’s a noise, or rather, a sudden absence of noise, and Scully realizes that Mulder’s shower is on the other side of the wall and he has just turned off the water. She pictures him on the other side of the tile, naked and dripping wet. Slick all over. If only she had x-ray eyes... This is what partners do, isn’t it? She has goosebumps despite the temperature of the water. 

She blinks her eyes closed, holds her breath, and tilts her face toward the showerhead. Baptism. Rebirth. New beginnings. The chance to make up for missed opportunities.

She carries this energy with her through the rest of the night. Through buttoning her silk pajamas from hips to collarbone, through towel-drying her hair because she left her blow dryer for Melissa, through flipping the channels and finding nothing but reruns she never cared to watch in the first place, and through dozing off with her hair cascading off the pillow. Not all nights are as delightfully simple as this.

---thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Heartbreak, Jailbreak - Narciso Anasui ( Non Pucci AU)

Life in prison isn't particularly the most beautiful thing to encounter, especially if you've been framed, and unfortunately, I had to learn that the hard way. 

To be fair, I don't even think one could call it "framed", since it's mostly police negligence and ignorance. They just wanted to get rid of me and this burden of a murder case faster. 

But honestly, how could a 17 year old kill her family and completely destroy her seemingly perfect life? 

For me, the police's logic is a complete mystery... But that's exactly how I was sentenced to 40 years in prison. 

They thought that I, a prodigy student, ready to take the Medicine University entrance exam, threw it all in the garbage and gruesomely killed my parents and dog, only to then go on my merry date with my then-boyfriend, that was in reality, nothing more than a scumbag.

Well, it's not like I could really do something else, and I pleaded for having a split personality, so for the past 5 years, I've been pretending to be a very dumb, soft and innocent little girl that would never hurt a fly, which made it easy for me to gain the favour and pity of most of the guards around for being a harmless angel. 

Haha, if only they knew. 

 At least I was allowed to read and study at my leisure, I was later given my own cell, shared with nobody else, I could perform piano and violin recitals during certin occasions or events and many other favours. 

Prison life was incredibly boring, especially since all women around were incredibly aggressive and hostile, or just plain dull and uneducated and you couldn't really coverse with them. 

Well, that all changed now, present time, when I met the 2 new girls, Jolyne and Hermes. Let me tell you, these girls were absolutely amazing and you could always have great conversations with them, especially with JoJo. And to think that I met her when I bribed the hairstylist not to cut their hair, and further on, when I'd give them money for random stuff they'd want to get.

Over the time, I realised that the girls also somehow managed to get Stands, but unlike mine, with which I was born, they got theirs through some way or another. And thus, began our random battle with evil as Jolyne had to fight the men who wanted her dead and framed her, mainly her boyfriend, while Hermes was there to kill the man who killed her elder sister. 

We were there for each other, emotionally, morally and physically at all times. The weirdest things happening were, however, this little kid who could use some kind of ghost ability, and inside this ghost music room, a silver haired man was leaning on the piano - They said his name was Weather Report and that his Stand is named the same way. 

Weird, but who am I to judge. 

Emporio, the little kid, mentioned that sometimes another man would join them, but he was much less sociable and was always in a grumpy mood.

And so, here we are, present day- A beautiful day of Spring in the Dolphin whatever Prison, where the men and women were allowed to spend a few hours in the courtyard to get some fresh air...Or something. 

I can only guess the guards were in a good mood or something, who really knows? 

I took my sweet time getting to the courtyard as I was reading while walking, already knowing the path there, my feet dragging me there automatically, and when I looked up from the book, I saw Jolyne, Foo Fighters and Hermes playing catch...I think? 

I greeted them with a soft smile, making my way to the bench, my long pastel pink dress swaying gently on the Spring breeze as flower petals were dancing around gently. 

Everything was perfect, everyone was smiling and laughing- But that all changed when some girl got in front of me and snatched away my book, looked at the cover, then scrunched her nose in disgust.

"Eww, you read this shit? No wonder you're the guards's pet. And to think they all say you are actually a cold-blooded murderer or something, how lame!" she scoffed, walking away with my book. "Please give me back my book. If you want to borrow it, let me finish it first." I spoke in a soft and sort of aloof voice as I stood up, looking after her. "Why the hell would I wanna read some boring bullshit- No, actually, why are you talking back to your superiors?!" she sneered, seeing me walking towards her casually. "Y/Nick, do you want me to get rid of that bitch?" Hermes looked at the girl in disgust. "No, thank you, dear. Let's not resume to violence on such a beautiful day, it would be quite a shame." I smiled mockingly at the enemy, only to have her get in my face, screeching at me. "Shame? Like what your parents felt heaving you as your daughter? Oh, wait, I forgot! They're dead! You killed them!! Hahaha, how vile of you, Miss perfect!" she laughed tauntingly, which only made me bite my lip to stop myself from snapping and twisting her neck in a fit of rage. "Give me my book back, please." I repeated in a lower, more threatening voice, making her gasp and hitting my face with my own book. "WHO DA HELL D'YA THINK Y'RE, Y'WHORE?! You think you're so fuckin' perfect 'cause everyone loves ya or somethin'?! Well, how 'bout I steal all yo' money, ehhhh?!" she shrieked, but the only thing that made me afraid was getting some spit from her on my face. "Your loss." I sighed, rubbing my cheek, taking out my Stand and pulling her hair on fire. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO, BITCH?!PUT IT OFF! PUT IT OFF!!!" she took out a small revolver from her pants, aiming it at me, but I quickly dodged it, and proceeded in engulfing her on fire and getting my book back. 

What I wasn't expecting, however, was to heard a grunt, followed by a thud and some gasps, and upon snapping my head back, I realised a pink haired man was on the ground, and the girls were gathered around him. My jaw dropped in dread realising that because of me, that man was shot, and I rushed to his side, pulling the girls away as I brushed the hair from his face.

"I'm so sorry, mister...Because of me, you got shot. Let me heal you, please." I spoke in a softer voice, taking out my Stand and using her healing water to successfully extract the bullet, then healing the wound. "Are...You an angel...?" he murmured weakly. "No, but my Stand is. Her name is Lilium and she's pleased to meet you...Although she'd prefer to have met you under less...Fatal situations." I offered him a tender smile, as Lilium's wings spread a bit more. "Y/Nick, I don't think you've met him. He is Anasui, the other guy who's around Weather in the ghost room." Jolyne patted my head, introducing us. "Oh, so you're the mysterious man I was supposed to meet! It's really nice to meet you! My name is Y/N L/N, but my friends call me Y/Nickname or other variations, so feel free to be creative." I got up, dusting my dress before offering him my hand to helping him get up. "I'm really sorry about the whole ordeal, I just hope it doesn't hurt too much anymore." I gave him an apologetic smile as he towered over me, looking down at me. "It's fine. Narciso Anasui, call me whatever you like. And uh...Thanks for the fix. You have a nice Stand." he looked at me somewhat awkwardly, unsure of how to react.  "Thank you, Narci! You have beautiful hair! It looks great with Spring. If I had a camera, I'd have loved to take pictures of you in nature." I hummed in amusement as the girls started laughing at the thought. "That's the funniest shit I've heard in a while, I swear-" Hermes booming laugh echoed around the place, annoying Annasui greatly. "I don't get it, why is this little mouse around anyway? You can't tell me she actually did something bad. Why did she get put here? Didn’t smile for a minute?" he crossed his arms, looking at us with a raised eyebrow, almost as if he were interrogating us, but instead of an answer, a deafening silence fell. "Uhm...Anasui..." Jolyne tried to mutter, but instead, I raised my face up to him, smiling with a fake innocence that dripped with a paralysing poison, making him feel that the whole place was thrown into the Ice Age all of a sudden. "I massacred my family." was all I said before walking past him, my hands behind my back, gripping my slightly burnt book, letting my long crimson hair fly behind me.

So much for first impressions. 

---

For the following days, I stood by Jolyne’s and Hermes’ side for the majority of time, and so, I was able to understand most of what happened to them and why they are here, and more, the fact that Jolyne’s dad was going to come over and try to get her out of jail, only for her to try to get all of us out, since his influence is just that great.

What I had to do was to assist their private meeting by knocking out the unsuspecting guard that was supposed to be in the same room and negotiate, but also, tell the older man about the Stand Users and leaders of the prison...

After all, being a “Pet” in this place is rather beneficial.

The meeting went smoothly, so Hermes, FF and Jolyne were preparing their strategies, while I hurried in the Ghost Room to tell Emporio and the other the plan.

“Great, everyone’s here. So, uhm...We have a plan. To escape, I mean. And...It’s going to work. But we need everyone’s help. It won’t be easy, but if we get out of here, Jolyne’s dad promised to get us new identities and places to stay, and a chance to live a normal life from now on. So, uhm...What do you say?” I look at the 3 of them, whose eyes seemed to burn holes in my skin. “Sure.” Weather nodded nonchalantly. “Can we really get out of here? And I won’t have to go to an orphanage?” Emporio looked up at me with hopeful eyes. “Uhm...As far as I know, Jolyne mentioned something about making you her little brother or something, if you’d want that too, of course. You’re a kid, you shouldn’t have to worry about things like these. You’re going to have a normal childhood from now on. You deserve it.” I smiled warmly at him, patting his head. “That’s amazing! I can’t wait!” he hugged me tightly with his little arms. “...Narci...? What about you? You’ve been quiet all this time...Is it because I snapped at you back then? If so, then I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” I spoke in a softer voice, hoping he would answer back. “I’m not coming.” he scoffed, going to the bookshelf, taking out a book, in a way to show that he’s not interested in talking. “Wh-What?! Why?! Don’t you want to get out of this place?! You already have like...15? 20? Years in this place. You’ll get out of here at 40-50 years old, and that’s basically your whole life being lost doing nothing! Don’t you want a second chance to live and learn to be happy again?” I approached him, looking at him with a sad pout. “Don’t give me that look. You only know me from the others. I’m a bad person, why’d you care what happens to me? After all, unlike you, little liar, I am an actual murderer.” he didn’t even raise his gaze from the book to look at me. “...Because in the little time we spent together, I could feel you weren’t a bad person. You are just extremely emotionally hurt and you try to hide behind your cold wall...And...You’re the only person who was sure from the get-go that I’m not a murderer. So...You’re not as bad as you say you are...Murderer or not. I’m sure you had your reasons.” I tried to reason, as he snapped his look at me, his eyes sparkling with confusion and a myriad of mixed emotions, until he threw away the book and slammed me on the bookcase, putting his hands on both sides of my head, towering over me. “I know purity when I see it. You’re the embodiment of innocence and purity, just like your Stand. But your kindness isn’t just that, it’s an act. What are you trying to pull here? And why do you cling so much on Jolyne?” he talked in a low, threatening voice, almost as if he was a wolf ready to tear at my throat. “I can’t tell what you see so nice and kind in me...I really don’t...But even so, I...I want to help Jolyne. She is like me, but she still has a family out there that loves and waits for her. They miss her, and she misses them...But me? I have no one. I, like her, got framed for such horrible crimes...But there’s nobody to support me. Even if I get out of here, I’ll still be alone...But frankly, I was beginning to lose my mind doing the same things over and over again and pretending to be a dumb idiot with some kind of psychotic split personality.” I tried to say, as my breath was taken away from the sudden closeness, blushing at the embarrassment and the anxiety I felt, as I wasn’t used to people being in my personal bubble. “Hmmm....Fine. I’ll help, but on one condition. If you agree, then you can do what you want with me and my power. What do you say? I could be asking anything...Are you really going to do anything to make sure Jolyne gets out of here? That all of us get out of here and have that stupid happy end you see in those Disney movies?” he was so dangerously close to me that I could feel his breath, as his long hot pink hair was brushing against my cheeks. “...What is your condition, Narci?” I bit my lip, trying to stay composed and breath again. “Marry me when we get out of here.” he smirked, making both myself and the kid gasp in shock. “H-Hey, Anasui, you’ll really help?!” Emporio looked at him with his jaw hanging wide open, but all I could do was stare at the magenta-eyed man, as my head was swimming with a hundred thousand of thoughts. “...M-Marry...M-Me...?! Wh-Why would you...?! Me?! O-Of all people?...I-I-I thought you liked Jolyne, she’s much better than me...A-And...I-I j-just...Me?! Why’d anyone want to date me, let alone marry me?...Are you making fun of me, Narciso Anasui, because if you are, it’s not nice messing like that with people’s hearts!” I tried to yell at him, but no matter how I tried to make my voice firm, it was trembling, making it obvious that I was trying my hardest not to cry. “If I wanted to mess with you, I’d have told you to let me fuck you. Yes, Y/N, I know, I look like a very harsh and cold man...I am a murderer, after all...But your conviction to help us get out, your gold heart...They touched me. But I’ll be very clear, I won’t help Jolyne to get us out of here, I’ll help you get a better life. I’m doing this for you, not for anyone else.” he explained strictly, as I could only clutch my shirt where my heart was, trying to regain my composure. “Can you also promise me something...” I whispered, putting my other hand on his neck, to get closer to him. “What is it?” he asked, skeptically. “...Promise me...You won’t play with my feelings...And break my heart...? I don’t think I can handle it again...I don’t know what I’ll do if...” I whispered in his ear, not able to finish my sentence, as he wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head. “I killed my girlfriend for cheating on me and breaking my heart...I couldn’t possibly put you through what I’ve been through.” he muttered back, burying his face in my hair. “Thank you...” was my last, very broken whisper, as I hurried out of there to tell Jolyne that we have full support from everyone.

---

For the rest of the week, the rest of us would meet up outside, in the courtyard, discussing what each of us has to do, all while Anasui kept me by his side or in his gaze range at all times, looking after me like a hawk, his excuse being that he didn’t want me to get hurt or something.

Getting this much attention was sure...Weird.

But as long as we get out of here...

And the worst thing was that...

His embraces were so fucking warm that I lost myself in them.

Because Anasui’s Stand was the strongest, while mine was the most versatile and could heal, it was decided that we would be the ones on the watchout and make sure everyone got out safely before us, which meant that we were in the most trouble...But as he assured me, he would protect me with his life...So, okay?

The big day came by sooner than expected, and the first to go were Jolyne and Hermes, to scout ahead and make sure no harm comes to Emporio, who’d be guarded by Foo and Weather, and then us, in the back, guarding the rear.

As I told them, the master of this prison, who was a Stand User, was going to come after us without a doubt, but what nobody was aware of was the Stand’s power, so we have to be constantly on alert, otherwise...Who knows what would happen.

“Narci...?” I asked in a hushed voice, afraid to attract attention to our hiding spot. “What is it?”  he grunted slightly. “What’s the first thing you want to do when you get out of here?” I looked at him timidly. “Dunno...I think I’ll kiss you.” he spoke to nonchalantly that it sent shivers down my spine. “Y-You can do that here too. I mean, like...When you’re free.” I pressed on, hoping to hear something more humane. “Then, I’ll get a job, get paid, and take you out on a proper date.” he smirked softly, watching my face turn red. “...You shouldn’t be so obsessed with me. You should think of yourself too. I-I really don’t get why you think I’m so great anyway. I mean, I got pity-dated before. A-And I got trophy-dated. And someone lied and covered his obsessive carnal needs under the pretext of loving me. So, uhm...I dunno...But if 3 people decided I’m that of a girlfriend...Maybe there must be some truth behind it. You should settle for someone like me.” I looked away from, feeling my heart ache like never before. “And you’re telling me that I deserved getting cheated on?” he asked in a mocking tone, making me jolt in my place and retort rather vehemently. “No, of course not! Nobody deserves something as cruel as that! Especially not you!” I refuted his statement, which only made him chuckle. “Then why would an angel like you deserve any less? Honestly, you got those fuckers get to your head and you lost all sense of self-worth. You see...I have this...Thing. For showing people important to me that they are special. And there you have your answer.” he stroked my hair gently, making me calm down a bit.

We stood in that comforting silence for a little longer, until we decided that we waited long enough, and we should move out... However, that was the perfect opportunity to get attacked by the enemy Stand User, as it got me by the throat, as I could only dangle my legs in mid air, trying to gasp for air, before darkness took over me and I felt myself hitting the ground.

---

When I woke up, however, I found myself in some kind of abandoned warehouse, where I hugged my knees tightly to myself, looking around, trying to see everything around that was illuminated by the dim, flickering lights.

I was alone.

And I was much too scared to move from the corner in which I was huddled in.

What was I supposed to do...?  I’m all alone. And I’m scared. Is this the work of an Enemy Stand User? Is this the work of the master of the Prison? Either way, I have no idea what to do.

This is the definition of “I’m screwed”.

As I tried to stop myself from crying, the door opened, and in front of me, with a huge, sadistic smirk, stood one my my exes, the one who still terrorizes my nightmares and who still keeps all my insecurities ablaze.

Wait, no...I’m wrong...

It’s not just one person...It’s all 3 of them, mashed together.

This can’t be...This is not normal, even for Stand powers...So what the hell...?

Wait...Did I just say...Nightmare?

Could this be a Nightmare? Could the Enemy Stand’s power be based on people’s worst fears?

Does that mean that Narciso is also witnessing and trying to fight his fears?

Oh goodness, if that’s true...I have to get out of here and help him...

I have to...I must...But why can’t I move my legs...? And why am I shaking like this? Is this also the work of the Stand?

Oh, no, silly me, this feeling is all too familiar to me...It’s fear. It’s helplessness.

I already know what’s gonna happen to me is inevitable...It already happened so many times times before...

He would pin me down, I would protest and try to fight back, and yet....

I didn’t realise how hard I was spiraling, until I heard a familiar voice, screaming out in despair...Almost like a wail...

That voice...It was Narciso.

I didn’t realise when I bolted to my feet, my Stand setting the monstrosity of my combined exes on fire, for the Divine Retribution, and I ran through the door, trying to follow his voice, only to find him on the ground, bloody, a version of myself and another woman, dressed both in skimpy clothes, standing over him with knives in their hands, wearing the same kind of sadistic grins as the horror in the other room.

The fire of rage ignited so hard in my heart that I set them both on fire, not even caring about my mirror image, and wrestling the knife out of their hands, I started stabbing them...

I was being blinded by anger...I never felt something like this in my life...It was absolutely terrifying...

But I had to save Narciso...And without him awake and safe, neither of us could get out of here.

I used my Stand’s Divine Redemption to start healing him up, but I couldn’t focus too much on that, as from the room in front of me, huge zombie-like abominations carrying chainsaws seemed to blindly approach our room.

I cursed myself for playing too much The Evil Within and Resident Evil, and I started dragging the semi-conscious man out of that room, using the 3rd door, only to find myself in a large room that had 2 ropes hanging from the wooden, most likely rotten beams above.

The only thing I could do was climb on the first rope while Lilium used the bottom part of it to make a swing-like knot, so I could sit, while I would use my arms to coil around the rope and drag myself up, along with Anasui on my lap, as closer to the top as possible, to avoid getting attacked, while Lilium would fight them, as much as she could, despite not being a powerful attack type, and my mental strength wavering from all the physical strength I was overusing.

“Narci...Narci, dear, please wake up...I don’t know how long I can keep this up...My arms are hurting so much...The rope is digging into my arms, making me bleed...And you’re so heavy...” I pleaded for him to wake up, seeing as one of the zombies got directly under us and used the chainsaw to cut at my thighs, making me scream in agony and force myself to climb further and further.

Lilium couldn’t take it...I couldn’t take it either...I was feeling my body beginning to lose all its strength...I was going to fall...

“Fuck...Did I make you cry, Y/Nick? Gosh, I’m such a failure as a man...And as your future husband. I will never forgive myself for making you protect me...When I should be to one to protect you.” he growled in anger and disappointment as he jumped off and started killing all of them with such ease, that it was almost with grace.

I finally felt myself beginning to calm down, the adrenaline rapidly disappearing, and I let go of the ropes, falling to the ground like a ragged doll, thanking every deity existent that we were both okay.

When he finished taking care of the enemies, he returned to me and falling to his knees, pulled me in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I fucked up. I don’t deserve to be your husband. I was weak, I couldn’t protect you when you needed me the most...I should have been there to save you, not the other way around...And because of me, you got hurt.” he growled, obviously hating himself for something like that. “Narci...Please don’t say that. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to escape my own room...And now, it was you who saved us, not me. You were the one to give me strength, so please, don’t be upset.” I threw my arms around his neck, cradling him. “I really don’t deserve an angel like you...” he muttered, which only made me scoff and pull him in a deep kiss, which made him widen his eyes in utmost shock. “You’re my husband, I won’t allow you to pull yourself down like that. You promised to stay by my side from now on, so do that! I need you NOW and I need you FOREVER, so don’t you dare go back on your promise, do you hear me, Narciso Anasui?!” I shook him by the shoulders lightly, as he could only nod, still in shock. “Let’s get out of here. We’re going home.” he said in a firm voice, picking me up bridal style, as we started looking for the way out.

The way out was actually killing all the monsters, which was much like a symbolism to killing our own nightmares and traumas, and in a way, it felt empowering to finally have someone by my side to help me go through the darker periods of my life.

And together, we succeeded, and found ourselves back to our hiding spot, with the master of the prison laying down in a pool of his own blood, dead.

Smiling at each other in accomplishment, we held hands, intertwining our fingers together, and ran the hell outta there to the meeting spot, where everyone was waiting for us a bit impatiently, but it all worked out, and we were taken away by the Speedwagon Foundation.

Jolyne and Emporio went to live with her family, Foo, Hermes and Weather got a house close by, while I and Anasui were lucky to get our own place, since we were ‘married’. To top it off, SPW provided us with jobs and the possibility to get any kind of degree we wanted, so of course, with my Stand ability, I chose Medicine, while Anasui chose something to his own strengths, so he chose Engineering, and thankfully enough, both jobs were rather profitable, so we could afford to pay back everything in a short time period.

Days, weeks, months passed, and living together with Anasui proved to be as natural as breathing, and our routine was making us forget about all the troubles we encountered during our lives.

Night time, however, proved to be much cruel, as nightmares were still plaguing us, playing on our insecurities, trying to weaken us...And I was already weak.

“It’s alright, darling, don’t worry, it was just a nightmare. I’m here now, calm down, it already passed.” Anasui pulled me in his arms, showering me with kisses all over my face, playing with my hair, the lights on to shoo away the nightmares. “Don’t leave me, Narci. Please don’t leave me. I’m so scared...I don’t think I could stay by myself. I love you, please don’t leave me.” I clinged to him, crying, not able to calm myself down. “I love you, Y/Nick. You are my wife, how could I leave you? I promised you, I would stay by your side for the rest of my life...Ah...Okay, fine, I was going to keep this until your birthday, but...” getting up from the bed, he went to the wardrobe and pulled out a little pink satin box, and got in front of me, kneeling, and looking at me with a tender expression. “I guess choosing the right time is better, especially if this will reassure you that I will never leave you, or cheat on you...Or anything. You have no idea of the effect you have on me...That you’ve always had, since we met that day. I need you more than you need me. I cling on the kindness and light that you show me, more than flowers lean towards the Sun and moths go towards the light. I love you, Y/N, and if you ever doubt it, I will be here to remind you that you are the most important being in my life and I will treasure you forever. Will you officially be my wife?” he confessed, a soft smile on his face, as I couldn’t stop myself from crying harder, nodding vigorously. “O-Of course! There’s nothing else that I’d want more than to spend the rest of my life together with you...I love you so much, Narci...I will never understand why you can hold so much love for me...But I’m the luckiest girl in the world. I don’t deserve you, but...But now you are my husband...And I’m so happy...I’m so happy, I don’t even have the words to express it...” I hid my face with my hands, to try to stop myself from blushing, but it was in vain.

Chuckling, Anasui got back on the bed, putting the ring on my finger and pulling me into another embrace, wiping my tears and kissing me passionately, then cuddled again, holding tightly to each other.

“I love you endlessly, Y/N.”