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The ✨ Dragon Fairy Maiden ✨and the ☾Dark Moon Knight☽ (🍓IchiHime🍞)
Happy to say that I am part of the IchiHime & RenRuki AU week! Created by @serene-faerie! Please follow her!! Her account is amazing! So I'm starting this challenge with IchiHime for the Fantasy AU that takes place in a magical Fairy Realm!!! But Ichigo will be called Mugetsu based on his Final Form!!! My God, I love that form so much!!!!!! Our girl Orihime is called Rikka based on her powers!!! Ngl, I imagined that Ichigo's final form was from a previous life and Ichigo is his reincarnation. For Orihime, why not make the story fun. Fun fact: she was about to be drawn as a dragon by Tite Kubo as a final form, and the idea of that inspired me to write it!
*P.S. I noticed the characters they represent in the middle of the collage edit I made; they are on different and wrong sides, which I apologize. for! ON TO THE STORY!
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~Every soldier's swords from both sides clashed with each other as they fought. Screams from those men were heard throughout the whole war zone. They fought for their lives, families, and their kingdom.
From the Kingdom of Zangetsu, the legendary Dark Moon Knight Mugetsu bravely led his army into battle on his majestic white stallion, Shiro. Despite rumors of Shiro being cursed due to his skull-like markings, the horse proved to be a loyal companion. Mugetsu was not only a skilled warrior but also a source of inspiration for young knights, embodying the values of honor and resilience. His courage in battle and noble spirit motivated countless aspiring knights to follow in his remarkable footsteps.
He was a brave leader who rallied his men for battle. Every knight stood firm, ready to fight with unwavering loyalty. Though some fell too soon, they did so with honor, sacrificing their lives for the kingdom they loved. Their bravery would be remembered for generations to come.
Mugetsu held his black sword, Getsuga, to kill every enemy in his path. He reaches to the enemy's leader at last. Both of them stare at each other with fury before they charge each other with their swords and ride their trustworthy stallions.
Yet everything turned into a blur for both Mugetsu and the enemy after they slashed each other with their swords.
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Mugetsu opens his eyes slowly. He stares up at an unfamiliar ceiling before slowly sitting up and finding himself in a bed, though he isn't back home. He wasn't in his armor anymore and now was wearing dark grey pajamas.
"Where am I?" he wondered as he surveyed the room. The walls were decorated in cheerful pastels adorned with dark floral patterns. Blue curtains covered the window, allowing a beam of sunlight to filter through a small opening, casting a warm glow on the floor and adding to the room's inviting yet mysterious atmosphere.
'How did I even end up here?' Mugetsu thought to himself as he put his hand to his face and thought about how he ended up here.
He lay almost lifelessly on the ground, covered in his own blood, as he was surrounded by the dead bodies of his soldiers and even his enemies. The weak knight turns his head slowly to see a shining, bright, hooded figure approaching him before his vision blurs.
He gasped as he realized what had happened just before it all went down. The Dark Knight placed his hand on his chest, where he had been stabbed by the enemy.
To his shock, there was no bandage to be found and no sign of any wound. He glanced at his chest and confidently tugged down the neckline of his shirt to check for any signs of a scar.
But there was no scar.
"I...I...Impossible..." He breathed out, all shocked, and lets go of his shirt. "A-A-Am I dead?" He asked himself out of fear, thinking he was already dead.
"No. You are still alive. You are just in shock." Mugetsu turned his head in the direction where he heard an unfamiliar voice in the room he was staying in.
To his surprise, he sees a small male fairy with black wings on the edge of his bed who is sitting on top of the wooden bedframe. He gasped, shocked, as he saw the black-winged fairy.
"Oi, oi, oi! Don’t worry, I’m not going to bite you. I was just about to, though, since I had to carry your injured self all the way back here." the black-winged fairy said, clearly annoyed. "Eh?" the Dark Knight replied, confused and surprised. It must have been quite a task for such a small fairy to carry a human.
"Forgive him, he's a pain in the ass sometimes." Mugetsu turns his head to see a small figure floating next to him. He gasped, surprised at what he was seeing. It was another fairy, but it was a female with pink hair that matched the color of her wings. "Heard that Lily." The dark-winged fairy said, all annoyed. Mugetsu stood there all surprised as he watched the two fairies argue.
"Tsubaki, Lily, enough now," Mugetsu heard a commanding voice as he turned toward the open bedroom door. There stood a breathtaking woman with long, golden-blonde hair fading into a blue ombre. Graceful blue dragon horns adorned her head, while her golden-brown eyes sparkled with warmth. She wore a flowing cream-colored dress that complemented her figure, paired with delicate blue fairy wings that shimmered beautifully. A small blue dragon tail peeked from beneath her dress, adding to her enchanting presence. The Dark Knight gazed at her, utterly captivated by her beauty.
The two fairies left the room to give them space. The beautiful woman looked at the Dark Knight in surprise, her face lighting up. "Ah! You’ve awakened!" she exclaimed, walking over to his side. "Thank goodness! I was so worried about you all night!" she added with relief.
Mugetsu again didn't say a word to the woman. He stood there still, all confused, looking at the bright smile on her beautiful face. Who was this woman, he thought. She was really beautiful, which he could think of.
"W-W-Where am I?" he asked, finally breaking the silence. "Ah, questioning seems to be the theme since you woke up. My home, of course." she replied kindly as she reached for a pitcher of water from his nightstand. "H-H-How long was I out?" he stammered."Just for a day," she answered, pouring the water into a glass cup on his nightstand.
Mugetsu stood there silent when the woman said that. A day? Impossible. His wounds could not possibly heal that quickly. It would take weeks and months for his wounds that almost cost him his life. He would of have bandages around his fresh wounds.
"W-W-W-What happened to my wounds?" He asked. "Ah. I should of know that question was gonna happen but you won't believe me...I healed you." The woman said confidently as she passed the cup of water to the confused knight.
Mugetsu accepts the cup of water from the woman. "H-H-H-H-How?" He muttered, all surprised. "It's my power." She answered. "Y-Y-Y-Your power?" Mugetsu muttered all surprised. "Yes, allow me to introduce myself." she said, her voice warm and welcoming. With a small, polite bow, she leaned slightly forward, her eyes shining with friendliness. "I'm Shun Rikka, but you can call me Rikka for short." She straightened up, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she regarded Mugetsu, eager to establish a connection.
"I'm M-M-M-M-Mugetsu." he stammered, looking down shyly."Honored to meet you, Mugetsu-sama!" she replied, her eyes glowing with happiness. Mugetsu blushed, captivated by her warmth and beauty as he drank his cup of water.
"I will explain more in the kitchen. I need to finish preparing your meal. There's also a pair of clean clothes on the chair." Rikka smiled as she walked out of the room. Mugetsu sets his cup of water down on the nightstand. He stood up properly before grabbing the clothes that were neatly folded on top. Then, he changed out of the pajamas and into the clothes that Rikka had chosen for him.
He wore a fitted dark grey shirt, its untied collar casually framing his neck and highlighting the strong lines of his silhouette. The fabric hugged his torso, giving him a sleek appearance. Below, he paired the shirt with tailored black pants, which offered a striking contrast and enhanced the overall refined look. The trousers were crafted from a smooth material that draped elegantly, further emphasizing his polished style. At his waist, a black leather belt not only provided structure but also added a sophisticated touch, seamlessly tying the entire outfit together. Each element contributed to a cohesive and stylish ensemble that exuded confidence. Along with that came with a pair of black boots.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, taking in the details of his new attire. The fabric was soft and well-tailored, draping nicely across his frame, yet it evoked memories of the simpler outfits he had worn back home. While these clothes carried a certain sophistication, they lacked the opulence typically associated with high-class families. The contrast left him feeling a mix of nostalgia and unfamiliarity as he pondered the journey that had brought him to this moment. He sighs before he steps out of his room and heads into the kitchen.
He walks through the hallways, and he is captivated by its impeccable cleanliness and organization. Every corner is tidy, and the pastel colors of the decor suited Rikka based on her personality. It reminds him of the room where he was staying, yet the abundance of lively hues and artistic accents brings a whole new level of charm that he finds both intriguing and refreshing.
As he steps into the kitchen, he spots Rikka standing there, a warm glow illuminating her features. She carefully sets a steaming bowl of rice porridge on the intricately carved wooden table, its glossy surface glinting in the light. Rikka glances up at the knight, momentarily captivated by his striking appearance in the finely tailored clothes. His outfit accentuates his strong frame and adds an air of nobility. After a brief moment of admiration, she shakes off her thoughts and breaks into a beaming smile. "Ah! They fit you perfectly!" she exclaims, genuine delight shining in her eyes.
Mugetsu smiles warmly and shyly says, "Thank you," before taking a seat at the polished wooden dining table. Sunlight filters through the window, casting gentle shadows. Rikka, sitting across from him, pours steaming tea from a delicate floral teapot into an elegant porcelain cup, filling the air with a soothing aroma. He thanks her before eating his meal.
"Delicious," he said warmly, a genuine smile spreading across his face after he finished his meal. Rikka's eyes sparkled with delight as she responded, "Ah! I’m so glad you enjoyed it!" Her voice was filled with warmth, reflecting her happiness. Mugetsu couldn't help but admire Rikka, the beautiful fairy, and her enchanting smile. It lit up the space around them, adding an extra layer of joy to the moment they shared.
"I don’t mean to ruin the mood, and I truly apologize for bringing it up, but I really need to know how you found me." Mugetsu said, his voice steady despite the underlying tension. He closed his eyes for a moment, replaying the events leading up to his unexpected encounter with Rikka. Memories of his earlier struggles flashed through his mind, each one more vivid than the last. Rikka stood in front of him, her expression a mixture of surprise and concern. She felt the weight of his question and knew she couldn't hide the truth any longer. The silence between them was heavy.
“As I wandered the other day, trying to clear my mind of the chaos swirling within, I stumbled upon a grim sight...the lifeless bodies of fallen soldiers scattered across the ground. A chill ran down my spine as fear crept over me. Just when I thought I could bear no more, I spotted a knight nearby. His armor battered and bloodied, yet he was still clinging to life, gasping for breath. That knight was you. Seeing you in that state was unbearable. I felt a strong urge to help, to do whatever it took to bring you back from the brink. With determination, I rushed to your side, healed you quickly but you remained unconscious though. It was a difficult journey for Tsubaki to carry you back here, but I could not let you slip away. Now, as I look at you, alive and recovering, I can’t help but smile in relief. You’ve shown incredible resilience, and I am grateful to see you here, safe and well,” Rikka said softly, her eyes reflecting both concern and hope.
The Dark Knight stood still, staring in amazement at the fairy before him. Her delicate wings shimmered, and he could hardly believe she was his savior. He remembered her tireless efforts to bring him back to life, weaving magic and warmth around him. In that moment, a rush of emotions overwhelmed him as he felt his heart start to beat again. It wasn’t just her beauty that moved him, but her kindness and determination. This was more than a second chance; it was a profound bond forged in darkness.
"You were still a pain in the ass to carry here." Just then Tsubaki flies in and ruins the moment startling the two. Mugetsu was annoyed and almost jump off his seat. "Tsubaki! Don't do that!" Rikka scolded the dark winged fairy. "Saying the truth. You know how hard it was for us." Tsubaki said all annoyed.
Mugetsu stares at the fairy, all surprised when he says 'us'. What did he mean by us? More questions were coming to the Dark Knight's head.
"U-U-U-Us?" The Dark Knight stuttered out, still confused to Rikka. "Ah, my apologies. Tsubaki and the fairy who you met in your room named Lily aren't the only fairies in this house." Rikka said with a soft smile. "Everyone!! Please come out and meet our guest!" She called out for the other fairies that she assumed.
Suddenly, five vibrant fairies fluttered into the room, catching Mugetsu by surprise. Rikka smiled and said, "Let me introduce you to the rest, Ayame, Baigon, Hinagiku, Shun’ō, and of course, Lily, whom you just met along with Tsubaki!" Mugetsu looked on in awe at the enchanting group.
"Nice to meet you!" the five fairies chimed, bowing gracefully to the knight. "Ah... Nice to meet you all as well," Mugetsu replied, returning their gesture with a hint of surprise. Rikka smiled, pleased to see the connection between her fairies and the man she had saved. "Mugetsu-sama, would you like to join me for dinner at the village market?" she asked warmly. Mugetsu looked back at Rikka, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. After a brief pause, he smiled and said, "Y-Yeah, I would like that."
Rikka smiled brightly. "That's wonderful! Let me grab my shawl and basket from the barn to check on your horse." She stood up, placing the dishes in the sink, the soft clink echoing in the quiet room. Mugetsu blinked in surprise at her mention of his horse.
"M-M-My horse?" He asked, still surprised.
“Yeah, don’t worry. He’s fine,” Rikka said to the knight with a reassuring smile. As she washed the dishes, a sharp pain shot through her finger. “Ow!” she exclaimed, wincing at the minor cut she had accidentally caused while scrubbing the dishes.
Mugetsu stood frozen in shock for a moment before rushing to Rikka's side. The worried fairies quickly followed, surrounding her like protective guardians. "Are you alright?" he asked, anxiety clear in his voice as he gently took her hand. He was alarmed to see a deep cut bleeding on her delicate palm, igniting a sense of urgency to help her.
"It's fine, don't worry," Rikka reassured Mugetsu, her voice calm and comforting. She offered a gentle smile that seemed to lighten the mood. Just when Mugetsu was about to respond, something unexpected happened. Rikka carefully hovered her hand over the small cut on her skin, the crimson stain still fresh.
To Mugetsu’s amazement, a radiant golden glow began to emanate from her hand, enveloping the wound in a soft luminescence. In an instant, the scratch started to close up as if time itself were rewinding. The blood that had marked her skin gradually faded away, leaving her skin smooth and unblemished once more. Mugetsu could hardly believe what he was witnessing.
It would have left a lasting scar, a constant reminder of the pain I endured, but miraculously, it was gone now, as if it had never existed.
Rikka looked up at the Dark Knight, astonished by his disbelief. Mugetsu began to grasp the extent of her abilities. "A-A-Amazing," he stammered, struggling to find his words. "Is this how you—" he started, but Rikka quickly interjected."Yes. I healed your wounds when I first found you. My main power is healing." As her words sank in, Mugetsu stood in silent awe, filled with gratitude and a newfound respect for the woman who had saved him.
They stare into each other's eyes in silence, both trying to process the emotional intensity of the moment that has just passed. The connection feels electric, as if time has momentarily frozen, allowing them to fully absorb the depth of their feelings.
"Get a room, you two!" Tsubaki shouted, interrupting the moment between Mugetsu and Rikka. They pulled apart, surprised by his sudden outburst. Mugetsu shot Tsubaki an annoyed look, even though he appreciated Tsubaki's earlier help."TSUBAKI!" Rikka exclaimed, her cheeks glowing with embarrassment. With a sigh, Tsubaki continued, "We have other work to do instead of acting like lovebirds who just met." The air shifted, reminding them of their priorities.
"Awww Tsubaki! Come on!! It was getting good!!" Lily argued. "Then you watch it when I'm not around!" Tsubaki argued. Rikka and Mugetsu stood there awkwardly at what they were watching. "Are they always like this?" Mugetsu asked. "Y-Y-Yes which I apologized." Rikka answered before sighing.
“Stop what you tou aredoing right now!” Rikka commanded with her hands on her hips. “I’m heading into town for dinner ingredients, so you two need to get the chores done around the house. ”The two fairies, their shimmering wings catching the light, exchanged nervous glances, instantly stepping back. "S-S-S-Sorry, Rikka." they mumbled, a hint of regret in their voices. Noticing their worry, Rikka smiled warmly, easing the tension. “It’s okay. Just remember to tidy up before I return.”
The fairies dispersed to carry out their tasks as Rikka had instructed. Mugetsu stood in awe, impressed by her confident command. "Shall we then?" Rikka asked, her voice steady."Y-Y-Y-Yeah." Mugetsu stammered, his admiration evident. Rikka smiled and headed toward the front door.
She carefully slips her feet into a pair of soft, cream-colored ballet flats, the gentle leather conforming comfortably to her soles. After a moment of contemplation, she picks up a flowing blue shawl, its fabric silky against her skin, and drapes it gracefully around her shoulders, the color contrasting beautifully with her outfit.
Turning to Mugetsu, she hands him a black cloak, its fabric thick and warm, in case he feels chilly. He smiles appreciatively, offering a soft "thank you" as he drapes the cloak over his shoulders, its weight providing a sense of comfort.
With a gentlemanly gesture, he opens the front door for Rikka, ensuring that she steps outside first, embodying the classic notion of chivalry. She acknowledges his kindness with a warm smile and a sincere “thank you,” as she steps outside, greeted by the fresh air.
Mugetsu follows closely behind, lingering for a brief moment at the threshold before gently closing the door, sealing the warmth of their home behind him as they step into the world beyond.
He stood in awe, marveling at the vibrant green grass and colorful spring flowers swaying in the soft breeze. Above, the clear blue sky, partly veiled by wispy clouds and leafy tree canopies, created a serene backdrop in the warm sunlight.
As he absorbed the idyllic scene, a haunting memory surfaced—a once-thriving field now reduced to charred remnants, scorched by relentless bombs and fires. The skies had been overcast, heavy with ominous clouds that obscured any hint of blue.
The sweet chirping of birds filled his ears, a soothing contrast to the war cries of dark days past. In this vibrant moment, he felt immense gratitude and peace, as if the world was healing with each note of nature’s song.
"Mugetsu-sama!" The familiar voice jolts him back to reality. He turns to see Rikka standing at the rustic entryway of a charming little farm, sunlight highlighting her warm smile. Her brown hair dances gently in the breeze, and her eyes sparkle with excitement. "Are you coming?" she asks playfully, tilting her head slightly. Caught off guard, Mugetsu stammers, "Ah, y-y-yes!" A rush of adrenaline fills him as he brushes off the remnants of his daydream as he quickly walks to the farm.
As he stepped into the dimly lit barn, the rich scent of hay and the faint sounds of rustling filled the air. His gaze immediately landed on a familiar sight: a striking white horse standing in the stables, its mane glistening like fresh snow. The horse lifted its head, ears perked up, and let out a joyful neigh, instantly recognizing the Dark Knight. "Shiro!" Mugetsu exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across his face. The Dark Knight walked over, his heart swelling with happiness as he approached his loyal companion. The horse stepped forward, nuzzling Mugetsu gently with its nose as if sharing in the joy of their reunion. It was a moment filled with warmth, and Mugetsu felt a profound sense of relief to see Shiro alive and well.
Rikka smiled as she watched the touching reunion between the man she had rescued and his devoted companion. "He refused to leave your side when I found you," she said. "Though he had minor injuries, I managed to heal him. I didn't want to overwork him by making him carry you." As she approached the Dark Knight and his horse, Shiro, she gently stroked the creature’s sleek mane. The horse nuzzled her hand, clearly happy to be reunited with his master.
Mugetsu watched with a smile as Rikka interacted with his horse, Shiro. “He’s quite the mysterious fellow with those striking skull-like markings on his coat, but I assure you, he’s really sweet.” she said, gently stroking his mane and offering him fresh hay. Rikka's eyes sparkled with delight as Shiro munched contentedly, clearly enjoying her attention. “Of course, he’s a true gentleman at heart.” Mugetsu added playfully, allowing a teasing tone to creep into his voice. Rikka chuckled at his remark, the sound light and infectious.
Suddenly, Shiro leaned in and playfully nudged Mugetsu with his nose, clearly craving some affection of his own. “Oi, oi, oi! I’m just kidding!” Mugetsu exclaimed, feigning annoyance as he pushed the horse away gently. The warm bond between them was unmistakable, filled with moments of playful banter and genuine affection that underscored the deep connection they shared.
Rikka laughed at their playful interaction, her joyous voice filling the room. Mugetsu felt his cheeks flush red, shifting uncomfortably under the curious glances around him.“Oh, don’t be shy! You two have such a sweet friendship.” Rikka encouraged, smiling warmly. Mugetsu stammered, "A-A-Ah, yeah." his voice barely a whisper. His gaze fell on a black sword propped against the wall, its dull blade sparking vivid memories of a fierce battle where he nearly lost his life.
“What is it?” Rikka inquired, curiosity lighting up her eyes as she turned her head to see what had caught Mugetsu's attention. She soon realized he was fixated on his sword, lying nearby. With a determined stride, Mugetsu approached his weapon, feeling a surge of relief wash over him as he picked it up. He unsheathed the blade, inspecting it closely; it gleamed brightly, free from the remnants of the battle and his enemy’s blood.
“Ah, your sword.” Rikka said, her voice gentle and understanding. “I noticed you were still clutching it. I figured you wanted to hold onto it, just in case something went wrong.” Mugetsu's heart warmed at her thoughtfulness, recognizing the kindness behind her words. He couldn’t help but smile softly as he returned the weapon to its sheath. “Thank you,” he said appreciatively, securing the sword back to his side. The bond between them felt a little deeper in that moment, forged in their shared experience and unspoken understanding.
The two companions stepped out of the dimly lit barn, the warm sunlight washing over them as they made their way toward the village’s bustling heart. Rikka glanced sideways at her enigmatic companion, her curiosity piqued. "May I ask, Mugetsu-sama, where did you come from?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine interest in getting to know the Dark Knight standing beside her. "Zangetsu. It’s a remarkable land, filled with lush landscapes and a rich history." Mugetsu replied, a hint of nostalgia brightening his otherwise stoic demeanor. "I’ve heard that Zangetsu is famed for producing exceptionally skilled knights." Rikka remarked, her eyes shining with excitement at the thought.
"Yeah." Mugetsu said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, reflecting a hint of pride. "I presume you are a knight as well?" Rikka asked, her interest deepening as she noticed the way he carried himself with an air of authority. "Y-y-yeah. I was one of the captains." Mugetsu confessed, his shyness evident as he glanced away, his cheeks warming under her attentive gaze. "Ah, amazing!" Rikka exclaimed, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "You must be more skilled than most! I can only imagine the tales of bravery you could share!" Mugetsu felt a rush of warmth, blushing at Rikka's kind words. Her genuine admiration stirred something within him, making the weight of his past feel lighter as they walked side by side.
“How long have you lived here?” Mugetsu asked, glancing at the Dragon Fairy Maiden beside him, her shimmering wings fluttering in the breeze. “I’ve been here since I was born,” Rikka replied, her eyes reflecting nostalgia. “My mother raised me in this cabin and taught me about the forest and its magic. She passed away a few years ago, but I learned to care for myself.” Mugetsu's heart ached for her. Living alone in the beauty of the woods must be isolating. Though she had her fairies as companions, he knew that even their presence couldn’t replace the void left by her mother. Loneliness can be heavy, even with friends around.
"Rikka..." Mugetsu finally broke the heavy silence that hung between them. Rikka turned her gaze toward him, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. Taking a deep breath, Mugetsu continued, "I have nowhere to go and no family to stay with." The weight of his words sank in as memories of his parents flooded back—images of laughter and warmth now overshadowed by their absence. He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts racing. "Since you saved me... I would be more than happy to help you around your home as a way to show my respect and gratitude." His voice wavered slightly, revealing the shyness that often held him back. He fidgeted with his hands, acutely aware of how vulnerable he felt in that moment. The last thing he wanted was to make things even more awkward between them, but he couldn't shake the hope that this could lead to a new beginning.
Rikka felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks in response to his playful comment. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she smiled and replied, "That would be absolutely wonderful! I could really use a helping hand around the house. And Mugetsu-sama, you’re more than welcome to stay as long as you’d like. I’ve genuinely started to enjoy your company."
Mugetsu stood momentarily in awe, his heart swelling at her kind words. A soft smile crept across his face, reflecting his appreciation for her openness. With a renewed sense of companionship, they continued their journey to the village, laughter and conversation flowing easily between them as they embraced the joy of the day ahead. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
After that pivotal day, Mugetsu settled into a new life alongside Rikka, a change that brought joy to both of them. With a strong and capable presence, Mugetsu quickly became an indispensable part of Rikka's household. He took it upon himself to gather firewood, expertly splitting logs with a practiced hand, ensuring their cozy home was always warm and inviting. Beyond that, he helped with various chores around the house, lifting heavy items with ease and making daily tasks far less burdensome for Rikka.
Embracing his role in the village, Mugetsu secured a position training the next generation of knights. His patience and dedication shone through as he taught the eager children, who idolized him. His reputation quickly spread, and he became a beloved fixture in the village, admired not only for his physical prowess but also for his kind heart and unwavering work ethic.
Gossip among the villagers buzzed with admiration, especially among the women, who would weave tales of how fortunate Rikka was to have such a handsome, noble man in her life. Each time the villagers spoke of it, Rikka would feel a warm flush of happiness, her cheeks turning rosy as a shy smile graced her lips.
Meanwhile, Rikka poured her heart into her work at the village's local bakery. Her passion for baking was evident in every loaf she crafted, and the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the streets, drawing villagers to her storefront. Everyone agreed that her bread was simply the best, a delightful treat that brought comfort and joy. As Rikka kneaded dough and shaped pastries, she often thought of Mugetsu, her heart swelling with affection as she realized how intertwined their lives had become.
Mugetsu stands at the edge of the training grounds, watching the younglings practice their swordsmanship. Their determination reminds him of his own childhood, filled with sweat, laughter, and adventure. As he listens to village men share stories around a bonfire, he feels pride swelling within him. They speak of his life with Rikka, The village is known for its beauty and a woman who has a radiant smile and a kind heart. He thinks back on their journey, from their chance meeting to the strong bond they have formed. He values their shared laughter and the support they gave each other during both happy and tough times. He is grateful for the path that brought them together.
As they spend more time together, both begin to realize their true feelings for each other. Despite living together, they struggle to express these emotions. Instead of the typical awkwardness of young love, their interactions are marked by subtle glances and shared laughter, highlighting a deeper bond. However, the fear of vulnerability keeps them from fully opening up, leaving them longing for a conversation that could bring them closer.
As they enjoyed dinner, Rikka excitedly mentioned an upcoming village festival. “I heard about it at the bakery where I work!” she said, her eyes shining. Mugetsu looked intrigued. “A festival? What kind?” “It’s the New Moon Festival.” Rikka explained. “It happens whenever there's a New Moon, and the village comes alive! Everyone gathers for activities, games, and to admire the stars. It’s a beautiful sight when the moon is hidden.” With a widening smile, she added, “Families share stories, dance, and enjoy delicious food. It really brings the community together, and I can't wait for it!”
Mugetsu observes the bright expression of excitement on her face as she talks about the upcoming festival. The thought of joining her fills him with joy; he can already envision the wonderful evening they will share together, filled with laughter and celebration. He relishes the sight of her smile, which lights up his day, and he is determined to keep that smile alive, even when they are apart. In his mind, every moment spent with her is precious, and the idea of seeing her happiness fade away at any point is something he cannot bear. He looks forward to making unforgettable memories that will help her smile shine even brighter.
With a warm smile, Mugetsu said, "It sounds like a fun event that I definitely don’t want to miss. I really don’t see any reason why not to participate." He then picked up his cup, cradling the warm ceramic in his hands. Rikka's eyes sparkled with excitement as she leaned closer and exclaimed, "Really?! You’ll come?" "Absolutely." Mugetsu replied, his tone enthusiastic. "I haven't had the chance to attend one of these in quite a while, and I'm eager to be a part of this one." He took a thoughtful sip of his drink, savoring the flavor, while Rikka practically bounced in her seat, unable to contain her joy. "Yay!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure delight. The sight of the Dragon Fairy Maiden's excitement brought a genuine smile to Mugetsu's face, warming his heart even more.
As they finished their dinner and carefully cleaned the dishes together, Rikka turned to Mugetsu-sama with a thoughtful expression. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to call it a night early. I need to tailor my dress for the upcoming festival,” she said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she imagined the event. The Dark Knight smiled warmly at her eagerness. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” he replied before saying, “I also need to head out soon as well. I have to feed Shiro before it gets too late.” Rikka nodded appreciatively, grateful for his understanding. The two shared a moment of comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company in the cozy atmosphere of the dimly lit room.
After a brief exchange of smiles, they both said goodnight, feeling a warmth in their hearts as they prepared to part ways for the night, each with their own tasks ahead but looking forward to the festival that awaited them.
Mugetsu stepped outside into the cool evening air, the sky above painted with shades of deep blue and scattered stars twinkling faintly. The peaceful sounds of the night surrounded him as he made his way toward the barn. As he entered, the familiar scent of hay and horses enveloped him, bringing a comforting warmth to the atmosphere. In the stable, he found Shiro, his loyal companion, a striking white horse whose coat shimmered softly in the dim light. Shiro let out a cheerful neigh upon seeing Mugetsu, his ears perking up in excitement.
With a smile, Mugetsu approached, the worries of the day melting away. “Hey, Shiro,” he greeted gently, reaching out to stroke the horse's neck. The connection between them was immediate, enhanced by the tranquility of the night. He then reached into a small, weathered sack he carried and carefully poured slices of fresh apples and crunchy carrots into Shiro's bowl. The horse eagerly leaned in, munching on the treats, his eyes sparkling with delight. The sounds of chewing filled the peaceful barn, a reminder of the special bond they shared as night enveloped the world around them.
Mugetsu found himself drifting into his thoughts, his gaze wandering somewhere distant. Memories of Rikka filled his mind, bringing a soft smile to his lips. He recalled the warmth of her smile, the way it lit up her beautiful face and the gentle kindness that infused her every action. While other women admired him for his striking appearance and formidable strength, Rikka appreciated him for who he truly was. She wasn’t captivated by superficial traits instead, she had a unique charm that drew him in, characterized by her compassion and hardworking nature. He thought of her tireless dedication and how she poured her heart into everything she did, making her not just attractive, but truly remarkable in his eyes.
Shiro nudges the Dark Knight's arm with his nose to grab his attention. Mugetsu looks at him, confused and a bit annoyed. “What do you want?” he asks. The horse neighs knowingly, hinting that Mugetsu should address what’s on his mind. “Oh, be quiet. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mugetsu retorts, crossing his arms. Shiro responds with another neigh, reminding him that he needs to share his thoughts eventually.“I’ll get to it. I promise,” Mugetsu replies softly, turning away, the weight of his unspoken feelings hanging heavily in the air.
In the cozy confines of Rikka's room, bright strands of fabric strewn across her workspace reflected the warmth of her excitement. She hummed a cheerful tune, her fingers deftly guiding the needle and thread as she crafted a beautiful dress, aided by the tiny, shimmering fairies fluttering around her. Each flick of their wings filled the air with a sprinkle of magic, creating an enchanting atmosphere. The upcoming festival loomed large in her mind, and her thoughts often drifted to Mugetsu, the special friend she eagerly anticipated spending the day with.“Rikka, when are you going to tell him?” Tsubaki asked, breaking Rikka’s concentration. She abruptly halted her sewing, caught off guard and feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “U-U-Uh, well…” she stammered, her heart racing at the thought of revealing her feelings.“You really should tell him,” Lily chimed in, offering a gentle smile. “You two have built such a strong bond of trust ever since you first met. It’s about time you let him know how you feel.” Rikka bit her lip, considering her friends' encouragement, with her mind swirling with a mix of excitement and nerves about what lay ahead.
As she reflects on her thoughts, Mugetsu's image surfaces vividly in her mind. He was not only handsome, with his warm smile and compelling presence, but also incredibly generous and hardworking. In contrast to the other men in her village, who were often more captivated by her beauty than by her genuine qualities, Mugetsu saw her kindness and diligence as what they truly were. He appreciated her for her strength and resilience, which made her feel valued in a way she hadn't experienced before. Being around him brought her a sense of joy and comfort. The moment she discovered him and nursed him back to health, something inexplicable ignited within her. It was as if a hidden part of her had awakened, one that had long been dormant. Their first encounter was etched in her memory, filled with a certain magic that left a lasting impression on her heart.
Rikka took a stroll outside, enveloped in her warm cloak to ward off the chill. Having just returned from visiting her mother's grave to honor her birthday, she felt a mix of sorrow and comfort. The fairies fluttered around her, their presence a reminder that she was not alone. They had been her loyal companions since childhood, and she had loved her mother, a kind and beautiful woman who had touched many hearts. As Rikka walked, memories of her mother filled her mind, providing a sense of connection amid her grief.
In an instant, Rikka's breath catches in her throat as a striking white stallion gallops into view, its face adorned with eerie skull-like markings that seem to shimmer in the light. She instinctively takes a cautious step back, her heart racing with uncertainty. Sensing the potential threat, her loyal fairies flutter around her, weaving their magic to create a shimmering shield of protection. Rikka's eyes remain fixed on the enigmatic horse, aware that its presence could bring danger, and she prepares herself for whatever may come next.
But then she locked eyes with the horse, and instead of anger, she found fear and desperation in its gaze. Rikka's heart raced as she lowered her shield, shocking the fairies around her."Rikka! What are you doing?!" Shun'o exclaimed, worry etched on his face."Stay back. I know what I'm doing," Rikka replied, her voice steady as she stepped closer to the terrified creature, sensing its urgent need for help.
Rikka extended her hand slowly, inviting the mysterious horse. Its sleek coat shimmered in the sunlight as it cautiously approached, large eyes filled with curiosity. With a mix of excitement and calm, Rikka gently touched its forehead.
A soft smile spread across Rikka's face as she began to caress the horse’s mane, her fingers gliding through the silky strands. The horse seemed to relax under her touch, arching its neck slightly as if savoring the connection. In the background, the fairies hovered, their tiny wings shimmering like prisms in the light, their expressions filled with astonishment at the gentle bond unfolding between Rikka and the majestic beast. They had never witnessed such a harmonious meeting, enchanted by the trust that blossomed in that serene moment.
The horse tilted his head, signaling Rikka to follow him. Trusting his instincts, she hurried after him as he trotted briskly down the path. The fairies trailed behind her, their shimmering wings fluttering around her. Rikka focused on keeping pace, her heart racing with excitement as she felt the urgency of their journey.
To her astonishment, he guided her to a scorched battleground, a desolate landscape where the remains of countless soldiers lay strewn across the charred earth. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and ash, and a profound silence enveloped the scene, amplifying the gravity of the moment. Rikka stood frozen in disbelief, her heart racing as she took in the unimaginable sight, while the fairies, usually vibrant and lively, mirrored her shock with wide eyes and hushed whispers.“Rikka, are you absolutely sure about this horse?” Tsubaki murmured cautiously, her voice barely rising above the somber atmosphere. Rikka shot her a brief, sharp look, urging her to keep quiet. “Is there someone you know still alive out here?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she scanned the horizon, hoping to find a glimmer of life amidst the devastation. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the loss that surrounded them.
The horse gently guides Rikka through a haunting landscape strewn with the lifeless bodies of fallen warriors. Each step she takes feels heavier as her heart breaks over the devastating scene. Suddenly, the horse lets out a startled neigh, indicating that it has found its owner. Rikka’s eyes follow the sound, and she spots an armored man covered in blood lying amidst the chaos. His long black hair flows like a dark river, and despite the surrounding carnage, he still clings to life.
Rikka’s eyes widened in shock as she realized the severity of the situation. Without hesitation, she dashed over to the fallen man, her heart pounding in her chest. Kneeling beside him on the cold ground, she carefully unbuckled and removed his armor, revealing the deep, ragged wound on his chest that was seeping blood. With determination, she placed her hands over the injury, her fingers trembling slightly. "Stay with me," she pleaded, her voice laced with urgency. "You’re going to be okay." As she spoke, she concentrated, drawing upon her magic to form a radiant golden glow around him. The light glimmered brightly, enveloping his body as it began to mend the fatal wound, its warmth radiating and fighting against the darkness threatening to consume him. Rikka’s heart surged with hope as she poured all her strength into the healing, refusing to give up on him.
The dark-haired knight let out a faint cough, confirming he was alive, though still unconscious. Rikka felt a rush of relief as the horse beside her shifted, sensing the significance of the moment.The fairies stood in stunned silence, their expressions a mix of shock and curiosity.“Tsubaki, Shun'o, Baigon, and Hinagiku, I need your strength to carry him back to the house.” Rikka instructed urgently.“HUH?!” Tsubaki exclaimed, surprised by the request. The others exchanged glances, a smile forming as they eagerly prepared to help Rikka.
The highly anticipated day of the festival finally arrives, buzzing with excitement as Mugetsu and Rikka join the villagers in setting up the vibrant decorations and stalls. The air is filled with laughter and the scent of delicious food as they work diligently, wrapping colorful streamers around the trees and arranging handmade crafts for display. Once their tasks are complete, they manage to finish early, allowing themselves some well-deserved time to prepare for the evening’s festivities.
As dusk approaches, Mugetsu steps out of his room, a sense of pride evident in his demeanor. He dons a carefully chosen outfit that reflects his personality and style. His tailored black pants, which hug his frame perfectly, feature elegant dark silver trim that catches the fading light. On his feet, he wears sturdy black leather boots, polished to a shine, ready for the evening’s activities. His top is a dark grayish-blue collared shirt neatly tucked into his pants, exuding a sense of sophistication. Over it, he sports a tailored black vest that adds a touch of refinement to his ensemble. To complete the look, he has pinned a striking teal lily to his vest, its vibrant color standing out beautifully against the dark fabric, adding a subtle yet eye-catching detail to his attire.
"Rikka! Are you ready?" the Dark Knight called out to the dragon fairy. "Coming!" Rikka shouted from her room. She stepped out of the bedroom, drawing Mugetsu’s gaze as he marveled at her stunning appearance. Her golden locks cascaded in loose waves, with half of her hair pulled into a small ponytail, while a crown of teal and turquoise flowers adorned her head. She wore a beautiful white dress with off-the-shoulder, long puffy sleeves, and a flowing skirt. A turquoise floral corset hugged her waist, accentuating her figure. Completing her look was a pair of wooden sandals embellished with white flowers, perfectly matching her outfit. Her makeup featured a mesmerizing shimmer of blue sparkle dusted across her eyelids, capturing the light and enhancing the vibrant aura she exuded.
Mugetsu admired how it beautifully complemented her mood, accentuating the ethereal quality of her appearance. With her delicate wings unfurled and her striking tail gracefully trailing behind her, she resembled a goddess who had just descended from a dream, embodying an enchanting blend of grace and allure. The entire scene was like a captivating fantasy come to life. Rikka gazes at him in awe, captivated by his striking features and confident demeanor. His well-defined jawline and perfectly styled hair give him an air of elegance. With piercing eyes that seem to hold countless stories, he radiates a charm and nobility that reminds her of a dashing prince straight out of a beloved fairy tale.
"Rikka, you look absolutely gorgeous," Mugetsu remarked, a warm smile spreading across his face as he finally broke the lingering silence that hung in the air. Her heart fluttered at the compliment, and she couldn’t help but light up, striking a playful pose and spinning gracefully to showcase her stunning outfit for the Dark Knight. The fabric of her dress flowed elegantly around her, catching the light as she twirled.
“Really?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with a mix of hope and mischief. “Really,” Mugetsu confirmed, his smile broadening with sincerity, eliciting a soft, delighted chuckle from Rikka. It was a moment of lightness that filled the space between them, warming the atmosphere with camaraderie.
“You look like a prince yourself.” she teased, lifting an eyebrow playfully. Mugetsu shrugged slightly, his cheeks tinted with a light blush as he chuckled shyly in response. “Thank you.” he said, the genuine appreciation in his voice evident. The banter continued, weaving them closer together in that fleeting moment, both enjoying the simple joy of each other's company.
"Enough with the flirting; let’s get to the festival!" Tsubaki’s comment annoyed Mugetsu and embarrassed Rikka. Lily shouted at Tsubaki to be quiet, sparking an argument between them. Mugetsu sighed, exhausted from the chaos, while Rikka awkwardly laughed before urging her friends to settle down so they could finally head to the festival.
“Shall we?” Mugetsu asked, a charming smile playing on his lips as he extended his arm towards Rikka. Her eyes sparkled with delight as she accepted his offer, wrapping her midnight blue shawl around her shoulders to ward off the evening chill. They stepped outside their cozy home, the warm glow of lanterns illuminating the path ahead, while the tiny fairies flitted joyfully around them, their delicate wings shimmering in the dusk.
As they approached Shiro, their majestic white steed, Mugetsu carefully helped Rikka mount the saddle, his hands steady and reassuring. Once she was settled, he climbed aboard in front of her, ensuring she felt safe and secure. With a gentle nudge, he guided Shiro into motion, the horse’s hooves softly thudding against the ground as they set off towards the lively festival, the air buzzing with excitement and the sounds of celebration.
As they arrived at the festival, the sky was painted in hues of orange and pink, signaling the onset of sunset. The warm glow cast a magical light over the festivities, creating an enchanting atmosphere. Lively music filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter that echoed around them. People danced joyfully, embracing the vibrant spirit of the evening.
The tantalizing aroma of various delicious foods wafted from nearby stalls, tempting their taste buds with promises of savory and sweet delights. Mugetsu and Rikka wandered hand in hand through the crowd, sharing smiles and murmurs of excitement as they took in the sights. They eagerly sampled different dishes, relishing every bite while taking in the warmth of the gathering.
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, they joined in with others on the dance floor, moving to the rhythm and finding joy in each other's company. The festival felt truly magical under the twilight sky, and they treasured every moment spent together, knowing they were creating unforgettable memories.
As the festival drew to a close, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of magic and wonder. Families gazed up in awe at the stunning new moon, its silver light illuminating the night, while countless stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across a velvet canvas. Parents tenderly gathered their sleepy children, cradling them in their arms as they made their way home, their laughter and soft whispers drifting away on the cool evening breeze.
Amidst this enchanting scene, Mugetsu and Rikka exchanged warm smiles, their hearts light with joy. They made their way to Shiro, their steps filled with anticipation. Nearby, a group of fairies fluttered about, their delicate wings shimmering in the starlight as they patiently awaited the arrival of the Dark Knight and the Dragon Fairy Maiden.
"Mugetsu-sama, I’d love to extend our evening with a walk in the woods for some fresh air," Rikka suggested, her eyes bright with excitement."Aren't you tired?" he asked, surprised. She smiled. "If you're not feeling up to it, I understand.""No, I'm happy to join you," he replied, returning her smile. Rikka turned to the fairies. "You’re welcome to head back if you’re worn out. I don’t want to exhaust you."Yes!" the fairies cheered, eager to find rest. Mugetsu gave Shiro a gentle pat before the fairies departed. Rikka and Mugetsu exchanged peaceful smiles and linked arms as they stepped into the moonlit woods, where the soft rustle of leaves and flickering fireflies created a magical atmosphere.
As they reminisced, their laughter filled the air as they recalled the joyous memories they created together at the festival. The evening was enchanting, with flickering lanterns casting a warm glow and lively performances surrounding them. They fondly remembered the delightful aromas of hot meals and baked goods wafting through the air, along with the captivating music played by wandering musicians. Each moment they shared deepened their connection, making the night even more magical. Both of them truly cherished their time together, savoring the camaraderie and excitement that the festival inspired, which was exactly what they had hoped for.
As they arrived at the serene lake, the night sky sparkled above, with stars twinkling like diamonds on the dark canvas. The water mirrored their brilliance, creating a mesmerizing glimmer that danced across the surface. Framing the lake were graceful cherry blossom trees, their branches adorned with soft pink petals. The gentle breeze caused some of the delicate blooms to drift down, floating softly on the water like tiny boats. The entire scene exuded a sense of tranquility and beauty, enveloping them in a perfect moment of peace and wonder.
"Ah, it’s so beautiful!" Rikka exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she gazed at the stunning landscape before her. Lush green hills rolled gently in the distance, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The sky was a masterpiece of colors, blending shades of pink, orange, and purple. "Yeah," Mugetsu replied, a soft smile spreading across his face. He took a moment to soak in the tranquility of the scene. "Let’s sit here and enjoy the moment." Rikka's face lit up even more at his suggestion. They both found a cozy patch of grass, settling down side by side. As they sat there, the gentle breeze brushed past them, carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. They exchanged comfortable silence, letting the peaceful atmosphere envelop them as they admired the breathtaking view together.
Mugetsu watched with a soft smile as delicate petals drifted gently from above, landing on Rikka's head and settling atop her flower crown. The vibrant colors contrasted beautifully with Rikka's shimmering wings. She cupped her hands together, delighting in the sensation of the soft petals resting on her palms. With a playful grin, Rikka blew gently, sending the petals swirling through the air in a mesmerizing dance, each one glinting in the sunlight. The sight filled her with joy, and she giggled as the petals scattered far and wide, twinkling like little stars. In response to the enchanting display, the Dark Knight couldn't help but smile and chuckle at the sweet fairy's infectious happiness.
Rikka glanced at him, laughter bubbling up as she noticed his long black hair adorned with delicate pink blossom petals that had fluttered down from the nearby trees. “What?” the Dark Knight asked, confusion etched on his face. “You look really pretty, Mugetsu-sama.” she teased, her laughter lifting the mood around them. “What do you mean, ‘pre—’?” he began, but his voice trailed off when he realized the petals in his hair. Running his fingers through his silky locks, he felt the blossoms slip away, their faint scent lingering. “Should’ve known.” he muttered, a playful pout forming on his lips as he recognized how ridiculous he looked. Rikka laughed again, her joy creating a warm atmosphere that contrasted with his usual somber demeanor.
Rikka stopped laughing, her eyes sparkling with warmth, as Mugetsu brushed the delicate petals from his face. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Hey, Mugetsu-sama. I just wanted to let you know how much I’ve enjoyed your company ever since we first met. Tonight’s events made that even more special for me." A radiant smile spread across her face as she looked up at the Dark Knight, her heart fluttering. Mugetsu, feeling a rush of warmth at her words, felt his cheeks tinge with a light blush. The feeling was new and exhilarating, making his heart pound in his chest. He met her gaze with a soft smile, the tension of the moment hanging delicately between them. "Now that you mention it," he replied, his voice gentle, "I’ve also been enjoying your company since that day you saved me. And I must say, tonight was truly unforgettable." As he spoke, Mugetsu reached out and gently took Rikka's hand in his own, their fingers intertwining, solidifying the bond that had formed between them amidst the events of the evening.
The two locked eyes, an unspoken connection growing between them. As the world around them faded away, they slowly leaned closer, their hearts racing with anticipation. In that charged moment, they both instinctively closed their eyes, surrendering to the inevitable. Their lips brushed together softly, igniting a spark that revealed the true feelings they'd long kept hidden. It was a gentle kiss, overflowing with the weight of unexpressed emotions, finally bringing their hearts and souls together in a moment of profound honesty.
They slowly pulled away from each other, hearts still racing from the intensity of the moment. As they gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, a warmth spread between them, filled with unspoken understanding. “I see you’ve come to realize your true feelings for me since our first meeting,” Rikka said, her voice soft yet confident, a smile breaking across her face. “I felt the same way about you all along.”Mugetsu’s eyes sparkled with affection as he nodded, a genuine smile forming on his lips. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth. Unable to resist the pull of their emotions, the two lovers leaned in closer. As their lips met once more, the kiss was a beautiful blend of love and passion, enveloping them in a gentle yet fervent embrace that deepened the connection they had just discovered.
Rikka cups his cheeks with her hands as she kisses him passionately yet gently. Mugetsu then lies her down on the grass while kissing her, the same as how she was kissing him. She wraps her arms around him while kissing his neck as she feels the grass tickling her back through her clothes. As the moment unfolds, she gracefully spreads her wings wide, taking care to protect her delicate wings from being crushed or harmed.
Mugetsu wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately. His lips gently brushed against her delicate, soft ones, which he now enjoyed. Rikka enjoyed the sensation of his lips against hers. This was their first kiss, a moment aflame with emotion and significance, reflecting the deep, genuine feelings they held for one another.
She then feels his kisses travel to her neck. "Mugetsu-sama..." She moaned with delight. "Rikka..." Mugetsu pulls away and looks at the beautiful Dragon Fairy Maiden in front of him. "Please, let me be yours forever." She confessed. Mugetsu smiled at his lover. "As you wish." he said softly. Rikka beamed and pulled him in for a deep, lingering kiss, their connection evident in that fleeting moment.
The couple then strip out of their clothes to feel each other. Rikka blushes as she gazes at his impressive muscular physique, her eyes drawn to the intricate black flame tattoo that winds around his left arm. The tattoo seems to flicker with a life of its own, contrasting sharply with the smooth, tanned skin beneath it, adding to his alluring presence. She has seen him like this when he cuts for firewood and trains with his sword. But seeing him like this made her want him more.
Mugestu admires her beautiful naked body. Her pale golden skin glowed like sunlight, perfectly matching her golden eyes and hair. Her breasts were exposed, her curvaceous hips exposed, along with her slender legs. Her ethereal wings unfurled gracefully against the lush green grass, while her hair cascaded around her like a shimmering waterfall. This captivating display made her appear as if she had stepped right out of a dream. She was beautiful to his eyes, looking like this.
"You are beautiful. Really beautiful like this." Mugetsu said in awe with a loving smile. Rikka smiled at her lover's comment. "I could say the same to you as well." She said with a loving smile. Mugetsu smiled lovingly at his lover before he leaned down to kiss her.
The couple lie there kissing each other passionately. The Dark Knight's hands explore everywhere on her body to her pleasure. Rikka's hands roam everywhere on his back, feeling his muscles and massaging his shoulder blades. Rikka moans as his lips come back to her neck again, along with his hand groping her breast.
Mugetsu's lips then lead to her chest as his other hand gropes her other breast, earning a moan from his lover. She felt his hot breast against her breasts. He cups her breast before giving the nipple a gentle lick to the fairy dragon maiden's pleasure as a gasp of pleasure escapes from her lips. His lips wrap around it before sucking it to her pleasure. Rikka lifts her hand up as she strokes his beautiful black locks. "Mugetsu-sama..." She moaned as her lover sucked her nipple. He then does the same to the other breast to her pleasure.
He looked up at her to see her face, which was flushed red with excitement and love. He kisses down her stomach, causing Rikka to arch her back as that happened. She feels the strands of his beautiful black hair against her skin. He almost reaches her crotch but pulls away, having his hand go there. Rikka looks at where his hand was traveling to. It wasn't long before his fingers gently rubbed her folds before the two were inserted inside, causing Rikka to gasp with pleasure.
Mugetsu stares at her with hungry, loving eyes as he massages her walls gently. "M-M-M-Mugetsu-s-s-s-sama..." Rikka moaned his name. Just then, Mugetsu pulls his fingers out and positions himself between her legs with his hard cock rubbing against her moist folds. He leans down and kisses her passionately. Rikka gasped and moaned against the kiss as she felt his tongue in her mouth and against her tongue. The Dark Knight pulls away as they gasp for air, and a slight string of drool connects to their lips. The Dragon Fairy Maiden stares into her lover's eyes with lust and excitement.
"I'm gonna go gently." Mugetsu lets his lover know. Rikka nodded in understatement but was excited about this. Mugetsu slowly slides his cock into her folds. "Ngh..." Rikka squealed quietly as that happened. Mugetsu grunts but stares at his lover, worried that he might go too rough on her. Rikka looks at him to let him know that she is alright and gives him a smile to his relief. She nods, letting him know that he can move.
Mugetsu begins to move slowly. The couple moaned and gasped with delight as that happened. Rikka wraps her arms around his neck to hold on to him. Mugetsu buried his face against the crook of her neck as he held her while moving his cock in and out of her walls to her pleasure. Rikka asked him to go quick, which he happily obliged yet gently so he wasn't going too rough on her.
The couple held on to each other as they made love to each other for the first time. They are so consumed by their feelings for one another that they pay little attention to anything else happening around them. Their thoughts and actions revolve entirely around each other, leaving little room for other interests or concerns.
Beneath the delicate canopy of cherry blossoms, shrouded in the dark embrace of a new moon, they found themselves surrounded by a serene atmosphere. The stars twinkled like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky, adding to the magic of the night. At that moment, with fragrant petals drifting gently in the breeze, they experienced a profound connection. It felt as if time stood still, allowing them to openly acknowledge feelings they had long kept hidden. This enchanting night, with its breathtaking scenery, would forever be etched in their memories as the moment they truly realized their love for one another.
The couple then moaned when their minds went blank as they came.
Mugetsu looks at his lover as he pants and slowly regains his normal breathing. Rikka looked at him as she was doing the same as him. Rikka smiles lovingly as she cups his cheeks.
"I love you..." She said in a soft voice.
Mugetsu smiles at her lovingly before saying,
"I love you too."
Rikka smiles before pulling him into a loving kiss on the lips.
They held each other closely, enjoying the warmth of their embrace as the stars twinkled above. Rikka looked up at the night sky, her heart filled with joy. "It's such a beautiful night." she whispered, a soft smile on her lips as she nestled deeper into the Dark Knight's strong arms. Mugetsu gazed down at her, his heart swelling with affection. "Yeah." he responded, his voice warm and genuine as he returned her smile. At that moment, everything felt perfect, as if only their love and the shimmering stars existed in that magical space.
"Mugetsu-sama, finding you that day changed everything for me." she said softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "After my mother passed, I felt so lonely. But your presence brought me safety and joy I hadn’t felt in a long time." She snuggled closer, her voice barely a whisper. "I admire your strength and kindness, and with each moment we share, I find myself falling deeper in love with you." A gentle smile graced her lips, expressing a love built on gratitude and trust, promising a beautiful forever together.
Mugetsu smiled softly at Rikka, pulling her closer. "You know, when you saved me that day, everything changed for me. I found myself captivated by your kindness and determination. As we got to know each other, your presence became a true comfort. I realized I was falling for you." he said, tightening his embrace, filled with warmth and sincerity.
Rikka felt a warm glow rush over her as she gazed at her lover, whose face held the same radiant smile. The moment felt blissful, filled with unspoken affection. Unable to resist, she pulled herself closer, her heart racing, and gently pulled him into a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with warmth and promise, sealing the quiet joy of their shared connection.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Two years after their initial confession, Rikka and Mugetsu found that their love had deepened significantly. The moment they revealed their feelings for each other that night marked a turning point in their relationship. Since then, each new moon has taken on special meaning for them, serving as a beautiful reminder of their connection. They cherish this occasion, celebrating it as their anniversary and reflecting on their time together.
Now happily married, Mugetsu and Rikka found joy in being closer to each other. The moment Mugetsu proposed was both intimate and deeply personal, crafted to evoke the romance that had blossomed between them. He chose the very spot where they first confessed their true feelings, a secluded glade by the lake that held so many precious memories. As dusk settled, a soft glow enveloped the area, with candles gently floating on the water's surface, casting shimmering reflections that danced under the starlit sky.
Rikka looked stunning in a flowing gown of sky blue, the fabric shimmering subtly in the moonlight. Her hair cascaded in graceful waves, framing her face and giving her the enchanting presence of a princess from a fairy tale. Mugetsu stood opposite her, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit that accentuated his stature and charm. As they stood there, both were in awe of each other, captivated by how beautifully they complemented one another, lost in the magic of the moment.
The Dark Knight fell to one knee, his heart racing as he gazed up at the Dragon Fairy Maiden. In his hand, he held a magnificent gold band, the centerpiece of a dazzling aquamarine diamond that shimmered like the sky on a clear day. As he presented the ring, the world around them faded, leaving only the two of them in that enchanting moment.
Her golden-brown eyes widened in astonishment, reflecting the light of the gem and shimmering with tears of pure joy. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with the promise of a love eternally cherished. Without a moment's hesitation, she breathed a heartfelt "yes" and the words seemed to wrap around them like a warm embrace.
Happiness surged through her as she enveloped him in her arms, pulling him close, embodying all the love and dreams they shared. In that tender moment, surrounded by the magic of their love, they both knew they were destined to be together forever.
The wedding ceremony took place in the quaint village church, its stone walls adorned with delicate flowering vines that cascaded gracefully from the entrance and framed the windows. The fragrant blooms filled the air with a sweet scent, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. The pews were packed with villagers, each eager to witness the union of the beloved couple and to celebrate the love they shared.
Mugetsu stood at the altar, dressed impressively in a striking black suit that fit him perfectly, complemented by dark silver armor that gleamed on his shoulders. He chose Shiro, his loyal horse and companion, as his best man due to their deep bond. After years of adventures and steadfast support, it felt only right to honor that unique connection on his special day. People found it sweet that he and his horse got along so well. He embodied the essence of a storybook prince, and his regal presence drew admiration from everyone present. Many of the female villagers couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy toward Rikka, who radiated joy and elegance beside him.
Yet, beneath that envy was a collective sense of happiness for Rikka, as they knew she had found a man who treated her with unwavering respect and kindness. His gentlemanly demeanor made it clear that he cherished her deeply. The villagers felt gratified to witness such a heartwarming partnership, and the air was filled with laughter, well-wishes, and the promise of a beautiful future for the couple, marking the beginning of their journey together.
When Rikka entered the room, a hushed awe fell over the crowd as they admired her breathtaking beauty. Mugetsu's heart raced with excitement at the thought of marrying the love of his life. Shiro, noticing Mugetsu's elation, playfully nudged him and remarked on how incredibly lucky he was to be marrying someone as wonderful as Rikka. The Dragon Fairy Maiden wore a stunning off-shoulder white gown that flowed elegantly around her, adorned with vibrant teal flowers that added a striking pop of color. Intricate floral lace detailed the edges, glimmering softly with every movement she made. Atop her head rested a delicate flower crown that perfectly complemented her dress, its blooms harmonizing with the teal accents. Her golden hair fell in loose, romantic curls, cascading gracefully down her shoulders, while a soft veil concealed her face, enhancing her allure. Mugetsu couldn't take his eyes off her; the light teal eyeshadow accentuated her striking eyes, making them shimmer with joy and excitement. In her hands, she held a beautiful bouquet of whitish teal flowers, its elegant arrangement completing the enchanting look. Rikka radiated charm and grace, captivating everyone in the room as they celebrated the beautiful occasion.
The fairies flitted around her like sparkling stars, showering the aisle with vibrant petals as she made her way to the altar. Rikka and Mugetsu beamed with anticipation, their hearts racing with excitement for a moment they had both dreamed of since their paths first crossed.
As she reached the altar, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the floor. Mugetsu gently clasped Rikka's hand, their fingers interlocking as the priest began to speak, his voice warm and steady. The air was filled with emotion as he shared vows rich with promises of love and devotion.
Finally, when the moment arrived for them to be declared husband and wife, a surge of exhilaration swept over the gathered villagers. With radiant smiles, the couple leaned in for a deep, heartfelt kiss, sealing their union. Cheers erupted from the crowd, a joyful symphony of celebration, as the villagers rejoiced in the beautiful journey that Rikka and Mugetsu were beginning together as husband and wife.
Rikka often finds solace in a cherished memory that lingers in her heart from nine months ago, a moment that brings her joy and comfort as she goes about her day. This evening, the sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow across the kitchen as she prepares dinner. The tantalizing aroma of sautéed onions and garlic fills the air, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh herbs as she carefully chops vibrant vegetables, each slice echoing her excitement for the arrival of her husband.
The sound of the front door creaking open breaks her concentration, sending a flutter of anticipation through her. "I'm home!" Mugetsu's voice rings out, rich and warm, and Rikka’s face lights up with a radiant smile that feels like sunshine. "Welcome home!" she responds, her eyes sparkling as she turns to greet him. As he steps inside, she notices the way his long coat drapes over his shoulders, contrasting with the polished steel of his sword, which he places with practiced grace on the coat rack. The door shuts softly behind him, sealing out the chill of the evening air, and the moment feels intimate as if the world outside has faded away.
Mugetsu makes his way towards her, his long dark hair slightly tousled and a playful smile illuminating his face. In an instant, he draws her into a warm embrace, enveloping her in the comforting scent of the outdoors mixed with his own unique fragrance. He leans down, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss that sends a thrill through her. The kitchen, filled with the bubbling sounds of dinner and the soft glow of warm light, becomes a sanctuary of love, reminding them both of the life they have built together.
"Hope you weren't feeling lonely while I was away," he said warmly, enveloping her waist with his arms, pulling her close. She looked up at him with a playful glint in her eyes and replied, "Not at all! You were just off running a quick errand with Shiro. The fairies and I kept ourselves busy with some housework, and honestly, it gave me a chance to catch up on things around here. Besides, it’s my responsibility to keep this place in order." She paused for a moment, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, "But don’t worry about the fairies; they decided to take a little break and explore the town. They’ve earned it."
As she spoke, Mugetsu’s face lit up with happiness, his heart swelling at the sight of his wife’s vibrant spirit. Her laughter seemed to fill the room, making it light and joyful, a perfect contrast to the momentary absence he had felt.
Just then, soft cooing sounds filled the air from the living room. Rikka turned her head and spotted a beautifully crafted wooden crib nestled in the corner, the gentle sounds emanating from within. “Ah, he woke up.” Rikka said with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with affection. Mugetsu glanced over, a hint of guilt crossing his face. “That must be my fault since I called out.” he admitted, his voice laced with tenderness. He leaned in to give Rikka a quick kiss on the lips, filled with love and reassurance, before gently pulling away. With a fond look in his eyes, he made his way to the crib, eager to see their little one and offer comfort.
Mugetsu smiled softly as he gazed down at his son, Sirius, who was snugly wrapped in a cozy grey-blue blanket. The little boy had inherited many traits from his mother, with delicate facial features, tiny horns, and fairy-like wings, though his wings and horns were a shade darker than hers. Sirius’s hair was a striking black, just like his father's, but with a subtle hint of blue that mirrored the beautiful ombre of Rikka’s own hair.
As Sirius made another soft cooing sound, his bright eyes locked onto Mugetsu's, an adorable smile spreading across Mugetsu's face. "Ah, sorry, Sirius. I didn't mean to wake you." he murmured, his voice a gentle whisper filled with love. Leaning down, Mugetsu cradled his son tenderly in his arms, feeling the warmth of the tiny body against his chest. He pressed a soft kiss to Sirius’s forehead.
Rikka stood nearby, her heart melting with warmth as she watched the sweet interaction between her husband and their son. The sight of Mugetsu holding Sirius so protectively filled her with joy. In this small, serene moment, their family felt perfectly complete, wrapped in love and tenderness that would always bind them together.
Rikka gently made her way toward her family, her heart swelling with joy as she held Mugetsu's arm, her eyes sparkling with love as she gazed at their son nestled safely in the Dark Knight's embrace. It was hard to believe that just a month had passed since their wedding, and now their lives were blossoming with the thrilling news of a new addition to their family.
Throughout Rikka's pregnancy, Mugetsu was the picture of devoted care, always attentive to her needs and ensuring her comfort.The fairies were excited about the new family member and even offered their help. Each night, without fail, the Dark Knight would kneel beside her and tenderly kiss his Dragon Fairy Maiden's growing belly, a gesture filled with love and anticipation. Rikka couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and affection, her heart warmed by the sight of her husband's excitement at the thought of becoming a father. In those precious moments, she, too, felt a deep sense of joy and wonder at the journey that lay ahead of them as they prepared to welcome their little one into the world. Their hearts danced in unison, filled with dreams and hopes for their future as a family.
He poured his heart and soul into crafting a beautiful crib for his future child, carefully selecting each piece of wood as he worked. Gender didn't matter to him; what truly excited him was the prospect of becoming a father. Rikka felt the same joy about her journey into motherhood. The women in the village were overjoyed for her and warmly offered their support, recwerelinweretheir own experiences withwatchatchey were more than willinwereowerend a helping hand, eager to watch over Mugetsu and Rikka's child while they managed t,heir daily tasks.
Rikka had been given maternity leave from the bakery. The employees at her bakery joyfully congratulated her and Mugetsu on their expected child with a small celebration. Rikka, with a playful smile, joked that her unborn child would become a valuable assistant to the village. Her lighthearted humor brought warmth to those around her, reflecting the deep sense of community that surrounded them.
As soon as Rikka felt the first signs of labor, Mugetsu rushed to her side, his heart filled with anticipation and concern. He held her hand tightly, offering his unwavering support as she navigated the intense moments of childbirth. Despite his worries, he found comfort in the presence of the dedicated nurses and doctors, who worked tirelessly to ensure that Rikka received the best care possible.
After what felt like an eternity, with a final, powerful push, their son entered the world. The couple looked on in astonishment, tears streaming down their faces as they witnessed the miracle of life unfold before them. The doctor gently cradled the tiny, squirming bundle, who let out a strong, healthy cry that filled the room and melted their hearts.
As Rikka held their newborn son for the first time, she was overcome with emotion, embracing the profound joy and love that accompanied motherhood. Her eyes sparkled with tears of happiness, reflecting the bond she felt with her child. Mugetsu, filled with pride and elation, leaned in to share a tender kiss with Rikka, a beautiful celebration of their new family member.
Carefully, Mugetsu took their son in his arms, marveling at the tiny features that were a perfect blend of both parents. Rikka watched with a full heart as Mugetsu embraced fatherhood, her love for him deepening in that moment.
Outside, the villagers eagerly gathered to congratulate the new parents, their voices filled with joy and laughter, celebrating the arrival of the fresh new life that brought warmth and happiness to their community. The atmosphere was vibrant with excitement, marking the beginning of a beautiful journey for Rikka and Mugetsu as they embarked on the adventure of parenthood together. It was a memorable day for the couple, on that day of their child's birth. Shiro and the fairies adored Sirius when they first met him.
To the present, Mugesu couldn’t help but smile at his wife. She gazed lovingly at their son, her eyes filled with admiration as she gently held her husband's arm. The warmth of their small family moment enveloped the room, making it feel like a haven of joy and connection. In that serene moment, the Dark Knight felt a deep sense of gratitude for the happiness they had built together.
Mugetsu had never thought about returning to Zangetsu. It felt like a distant memory without significance. However, everything changed when he met Rikka. Her warm smile, sweet laughter, and kind personality wrapped around him like a comforting embrace, making him feel like he truly belonged for the first time which made him fall in love wither.
As they grew closer, Rikka welcomed him into her life with open arms, filling a void he had long felt. Their bond deepened further with the arrival of their newborn son, a beautiful addition that made every moment even more precious. Rikka, the Dragon Fairy Maiden, his true love, and their son became treasures in his heart, weaving joy and warmth into his life. What was once empty was now brimming with love and an unbreakable bond, turning each day into a cherished gift for the Dark Knight.
FIN.💙
(A/N- I apologize it is rushed!! I didn't have time and was planning to get it done months early, but other things happened! 😓 But I am so happy how it came out as I planned this story out for a long time! Happy to write more of them in the future but right now, onward to Renruki!)
#anime#bleach#ichigo kurosaki#bleach ichigo#kurosaki ichigo#kurosaki orihime#inoue orihime#orihime kurosaki#orihime inoue#bleach orihime#ichigo x orihime#ichihime#ih&rrauweek
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I tried not to run away from my responsibilities and actually try to do a background for once… I still have a long way to go🌸
#black clover#noelle silva#black clover fanart#Initially I wanted it to be pinker#but I was using a cherry blossom speedpaint I found on twt to learn how to make the background so I ended up using the same colours#then I couldn’t change colours with the filters bc the branches were in the same layer as the flowers#nevertheless I think the current colours also look very pretty#I wanted them to match the pink of Noelle’s eyes but they ended up matching her clothes instead#it didn’t turn out as well as the speedpaint though (first time though)#even if I could do cherry blossoms well it’s really hard to make sure your background harmonises with the character(s) at the front😭#it was also hard to figure out how the top of her dress looks like bc we literally have seen her in this form for like just two chapters#drawing Noelle every season helps me learn how to keep a character’s face constant and decide how I want my artstyle to look#still I think her face looked slightly prettier in my previous fanart🤔#slacky’s art
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re-reading Mal’s Spellbook
Evie should be meaner, actually??? But also, a) Jay has totally fine handwriting in the spellbook, the font they chose for his writing is way more legible than the one they chose for Mal, and b) is this what the kids are mean about these days???
#me writing a silly little fic where Jay has genuinely awful handwriting due to like. undiagnosed dyslexia.#which is important for his school character arc because he genuinely believes that he’s bad at school#and also relies almost completely on his verbal memory of whatever they went over in class#he can debate just fine!! His logic is sound#he’s just#really slow at reading and his handwriting is genuinely atrocious#he dictates essays to the school laptop they ‘stole’ from the library#the others read assignments out loud for their shared classes#and like. He’s not stupid. He can cover for it. But the thing about being in school full time and covering for a learning disability#is that it’s exhausting and unsustainable#and going to lead to a breakdown eventually#even if that’s just failing a test#and being found out#anyway if anybody is still reading my older fic this is why Jay’s in the offset testing blocks in my ongoing cinderellaverse#he gets extra time on tests because of the dyslexia#he probably also uses a red filter over the page when he reads because that’s the breakthrough that helped my irl dyslexic sister#anyway someday I’ll actually write all of my school thoughts into a real fic
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me typing 'hum' for Humor
ao3's drop-down tags: Human sacrifice? Human trafficking? hUmann experimentAtion?? No I know. Human/Vampire
#no like it makes total sense#the things we wanna make sure and tag our stories with is whatever people will want to either filter out or search for specifically#so it makes perfect sense and functions just how it should#but i still found it humorous#also so many very dark heavy Human tags and then a bunch that are human/nonhuman#idk just funny to me#my sense of human sacrifice is broken#i mean--
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actually, no. you know what? i am so sick of this “marinette is just a friend” bs. okay. cool. adrien said she was just a friend a few times. whatever. it’s not that big of a deal and everyone in the mlb fandom like. hyperfixates on that??? idc if it’s a “just a joke” because it’s utterly ridiculous at this point. i have literally seen people go on heated rants about how stupid or clueless adrien was during the umbrella scene because he called mari just a friend. are you kidding me??? y’all are really going to take away that moment for him? he just made like his first ever friend in nino and when he called her a friend, he looked so excited because this boy has only ever had one friend before. of course he’s going to call mari just a friend because he just met her and the only time she’s actually spoken to him outside of the suit at this point is to yell at him like... y’all...
and this is not me hating on mari because i love her so so so much. i just hate how passionate and heated fans get about this. i mean... y’all... adrien didn’t even think mari liked him??? like, in puppeteer two, he is literally upset because he came to the conclusion that mari hates him. also, of course he’s not like in love with or crushing on her when she’s barely spoken actual sentences to him! again, not me hating on mari and her nerves because like i get it, it’s hard. and also this is like adrien’s first time interacting with people as peers, so 1. of course romance is not his main priority 2. he doesn’t understand social cues or situations very well At All which is made abundantly clear in the show 3. i don’t... i don’t think adrien knows what affection is??? i mean, he’s definitely learned some over the course of the show, but he’s used to a neglectful / abusive father, his stoic assistant, his bodyguard who doesn’t really talk like at all, chloé being chloé, and hoards of fans declaring that they’re in love with him, hanging all over him, acting like he’s a shiny thing rather than a person, etc... so like. how is adrien supposed to actually comprehend that mari likes him???
and okay no my last point: so so so sick of the double standard. i have seen countless people rant and rave and scream and shout about how stupid adrien is for not returning mari’s feelings or knowing he has a crush on her and then these same people will turn around and berate chat noir and say things like “gosh ladybug isn’t obligated to return his feelings:/” like... hELLO??? why is ladybug not obligated while adrien is??? it’s ridiculous and disgusting and i’m so so so tired of “just a friend” jokes on tumblr, in art, in fics, in youtube compilations... like... can’t we be normal about this? and i don’t mean normal as in “casually enjoy” i mean normal as in can we stop being so aggressive and harsh and hostile towards literal fourteen year olds my God they’re children they’re allowed to make mistakes and mess up and my God the way y’all talk about lila is disgusting, too like i hate her but i don’t want her tortured and killed??? and the way people characterize the classmates as physically and verbally assaulting mari because of lila??? like... my God they would never??? they would all honestly side with mari chameleon is a bad episode and is poorly written and everyone is out of character please use your critical thinking skills and understand that chat noir is not harassing ladybug anymore than mari may be harassing adrien (aka they are not harassing each other at all my God) and stop insulting and demonizing fourteen year olds so your otp can get together thanks
#i have. feelings.#sorry y'all#this may be harsh but i am so beyond sick of it#i've been going through the classmates tag on ao3 and filtered out all the s.alt fics for all the characters and the majority of the fics#i'm seeing are aggressive lila takedown fics or like unproperly tagged s.alt fics#where the classmates are still rude and aggressive and bully mari when even lila doesn't really bully mari that badly??? like yes it is#awful that she tried to get her expelled and lied a bit about her but lila has never been physical nor tried to kill mari and nor would any#of the classmates actually turn against her like. they may disagree with her or think she may be acting on her crush and yes lila did#threaten mari in the bathroom but like... what has she done since then? try to get her expelled and then... nothing. like. this is Not me#saying not to take bullying seriously but people take it to the extreme with lila and how she treats mari in fics and i am so so so sick of#it!!! i just want to read mlb classmate fics where they're all silly and being teenagers without mari being unreasonably and uncanonically#bullied and without the tags 'alya/adrien/classmate redemption' HELLO??? WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE REDEEMED??? THEY AREN'T VILLAINS??? THEY ARE#FOURTEEN??? as a rule of thumb i refuse to read fics with those tags like sorry but if you tag fics like that then you obviously don't know#the characters. i'm sorry if this sounds mean or harsh it's just exhausting trying to find fun or sweet or found family mlb fics because so#many of them are so negative and ooc and involve like extreme hatred towards fourteen year old fictional children... like... how do we not#see the problem with that??? like... am i overreacting??? please someone tell me they agree with me!!! i've been working on this really#stressful assignment that determines whether i graduate my future career and also costs three hundred dollars to take so i've been really#stressed and every time i try and take an mb fic break i end up more stressed because the fandom is so cruel to children ahhhhhhhh#okay i am. done. maybe i'll delete this later... i just need to see if someone agrees with me because i am. :))) on the verge of losing it#lol#mlb
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It's Time To Investigate SevenArt.ai
sevenart.ai is a website that uses ai to generate images.
Except, that's not all it can do.
It can also overlay ai filters onto images to create the illusion that the algorithm created these images.
And its primary image source is Tumblr.
It scrapes through the site for recent images that are at least 10 days old and has some notes attached to it, as well as copying the tags to make the unsuspecting user think that the post was from a genuine user.
No image is safe. Art, photography, screenshots, you name it.
Initially I thought that these are bots that just repost images from their site as well as bastardizations of pictures across tumblr, until a user by the name of @nataliedecorsair discovered that these "bots" can also block users and restrict replies.
Not only that, but these bots do not procreate and multiply like most bots do. Or at least, they have.
The following are the list of bots that have been found on this very site. Brace yourself. It's gonna be a long one:
@giannaaziz1998blog
@kennedyvietor1978blog
@nikb0mh6bl
@z4uu8shm37
@xguniedhmn
@katherinrubino1958blog
@3neonnightlifenostalgiablog
@cyberneticcreations58blog
@neomasteinbrink1971blog
@etharetherford1958blog
@punxajfqz1
@camicranfill1967blog
@1stellarluminousechoblog
@whwsd1wrof
@bnlvi0rsmj
@steampunkstarshipsafari90blog
@surrealistictechtales17blog
@2steampunksavvysiren37blog
@krispycrowntree
@voucwjryey
@luciaaleem1961blog
@qcmpdwv9ts
@2mplexltw6
@sz1uwxthzi
@laurenesmock1972blog
@rosalinetritsch1992blog
@chereesteinkirchner1950blog
@malindamadaras1996blog
@1cyberneticdreamscapehubblog
@neomasteinbrink1971blog
@neonfuturecityblog
@olindagunner1986blog
@neonnomadnirvanablog
@digitalcyborgquestblog
@freespiritfusionblog
@piacarriveau1990blog
@3technoartisticvisionsblog
@wanderlustwineblissblog
@oyqjfwb9nz
@maryannamarkus1983blog
@lashelldowhower2000blog
@ovibigrqrw
@3neonnightlifenostalgiablog
@ywldujyr6b
@giannaaziz1998blog
@yudacquel1961blog
@neotechcreationsblog
@wildernesswonderquest87blog
@cybertroncosmicflow93blog
@emeldaplessner1996blog
@neuralnetworkgallery78blog
@dunstanrohrich1957blog
@juanitazunino1965blog
@natoshaereaux1970blog
@aienhancedaestheticsblog
@techtrendytreks48blog
@cgvlrktikf
@digitaldimensiondioramablog
@pixelpaintedpanorama91blog
@futuristiccowboyshark
@digitaldreamscapevisionsblog
@janishoppin1950blog
The oldest ones have been created in March, started scraping in June/July, and later additions to the family have been created in July.
So, I have come to the conclusion that these accounts might be run by a combination of bot and human. Cyborg, if you will.
But it still doesn't answer my main question:
Who is running the whole operation?
The site itself gave us zero answers to work with.
No copyright, no link to the engine where the site is being used on, except for the sign in thingy (which I did.)
I gave the site a fake email and a shitty password.
Turns out it doesn't function like most sites that ask for an email and password.
Didn't check the burner email, the password isn't fully dotted and available for the whole world to see, and, and this is the important thing...
My browser didn't detect that this was an email and password thingy.
And there was no log off feature.
This could mean two things.
Either we have a site that doesn't have a functioning email and password database, or that we have a bunch of gullible people throwing their email and password in for people to potentially steal.
I can't confirm or deny these facts, because, again, the site has little to work with.
The code? Generic as all hell.
Tried searching for more information about this site, like the server it's on, or who owned the site, or something. ANYTHING.
Multiple sites pulled me in different directions. One site said it originates in Iceland. Others say its in California or Canada.
Luckily, the server it used was the same. Its powered by Cloudflare.
Unfortunately, I have no idea what to do with any of this information.
If you have any further information about this site, let me know.
Until there is a clear answer, we need to keep doing what we are doing.
Spread the word and report about these cretins.
If they want attention, then they are gonna get the worst attention.
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Hot Chocolate?
Summary: Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and can’t find you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : PTSD, nightmares, panic. very slight cursing. hurt/comfort. Very much an angsty fic.
Requested by : myself again
Word count : 1.4k
Note : As someone who has struggled with sleep disorders, writing this helped me reach a strange catharsis. Since today is World Mental Health day, please check up on your friends, my loves! Oh and I am still accepting requests, I just have enough prompts for the rest of this week and will be replying to your asks at the start of next week! Also, do Americans use electric kettles? Sincerely, someone who lives in England.
Requests are open!
○ buy me a ko-fi ○
Bucky shot awake. He shuddered, trying to bat away the lingering visions of his nightmare that clung to him like a drenched blanket.
He found his lungs grasping for air with panic gasps as his eyes darted around the bedroom. The shadows casted by the starlight filtered through the curtains took shapes that made his heart race. For a split second, he thought he wasn’t in his apartment anymore. He was back in the Siberian Hydra lab, cold metal restraints nipping into his skin. He heard his handler’s voice speaking Russian, echoing the room with his old trigger words.
He forced himself out of this terrified state, grounding himself in reality. His chest was heaving, his eyes were bleary. Instinctively, his hand reached for the space next to him.
It was empty.
You weren’t there.
A wave of panic crashed over him, and this was far more constricting than the terror of his nightmares. His heart started pounding more violently in his chest. His fingers grazed the sheets where you should have been. You had at least been gone long enough for the pillows to grow cold.
He could feel his pulse in his veins, each beat hammering the insides of his skull. His mind spiralled uncontrollably, thoughts feeding off the remains of the nightmare and twisting them into something much worse.
Had you left him?
What did he do?
Had he driven you away?
Was this it?
Bucky hastily threw off the covers, sprawling it all on your bedroom floor. He stumbled out of bed, mind clouded with fear and panic. The apartment was eerily quiet— too quiet for him to handle on his own. Too quiet for his overwhelmingly loud thoughts.
He waded through the hall as if he was four feet deep in muddy waters, his bare feet softly thudding against the floorboards. The faint sound of water boiling reached his ears. His breath hitched, his heart racing.
Emerging into the open space, his eyes darted around the dark living room, his gaze finally landing on the soft glow of the kitchen light.
He walked towards the kitchen.
There you were.
You were standing by the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, the other resting on the kettle. You were so beautiful. So perfect, compared to him.
You looked lost in thought, your posture relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him, though you were unaware.
Bucky’s feet stayed where he was for a moment, as if ice had frozen over him. Relief washed over him so fast that it nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs.
You were here. You hadn’t left.
The relief was quickly replaced by the gnawing ache of guilt, the kind that made his chest feel tight and his head swim feel like it was underwater. He’d thought you were gone, and the mere thought of it had sent him into a spiralling depth. How pathetic.
He couldn’t help it. He constantly felt like teetering on the edge of losing you. Like every day with you was borrowed time. Like he had already stayed his welcome. Like he wasn’t worthy of holding you in his arms.
Perhaps the reason he was so jaded sometimes, was that he was sure you’d wake up and realise he was too broken, too damaged.
When he played this scenario in his head, you’d walk out the door, leaving him a shell of the man he is now. He thought about it more that he’d care to admit.
His heart was still pounding in his chest as he moved closer to you. His footsteps were slow and uncertain. Your eyes lifted to meet his stormy blue ones as he entered the kitchen, your brow furrowing in concern when you saw his pale, shaking face.
"Bucky?" your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper.
He shivered a bit, unable to form words for just a second. The ache in his stomach and the ball in his throat made it impossible to speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, shame curling a painful knot in his core.
“I woke up, and you weren’t there,” he finally muttered, struggling to get every word out, as if he was swallowing glass. “I thought…” He trailed off, the rest of the sentence too painful to say out loud. Instead, small sobs escaped his lips.
You set the mug down on the counter and closed the distance between the two. Your hand found his arm, your fingers warm against the cool vibranium.
“Hey,” you said gently, willing your voice to be as soothing as can be, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just couldn’t sleep.”
Bucky’s gaze stayed fixed on nothingness. You could hear his jaw clicking nervously, like a man terrified for his life.
“I thought you’d left,” he admitted in a cracked whisper, sounding as fragile as he felt. “Thought I’d… driven you away.”
Your heart broke at the pain in his voice. He sounded like a whimpering puppy, begging to be held.
He had such a raw, vulnerable nature that he tried his best to keep hidden all the damn time. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as he allowed you to. You needed him to know you were never letting him go.
At first, his body was frozen like a petrified statue— he wasn’t sure he deserved the comfort. But slowly, his muscles relaxed under your touch.
“I’m right here, darling,” You whispered. Your words were firm but gentle. “I’m always right here.”
He let out a shaky breath. His forehead dropped to rest against the top of your head, breathing on your scent— the scent that always brought him a sense of calm. “I don’t… I don’t know why I keep thinking you’ll leave.”
“I’m not.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. “I’m not,” you repeated again, hoping that if you said it enough times, he’d finally believe it.
The sincerity of those two simple words made his throat tighten, his chest constricting under the weight of emotions he had always struggled to fully process. He had never ever wrapped his head around how you could stand here, looking at him—someone so broken and damaged—with such gentle desire. He had never believed he deserved it.
But he wanted to believe, to trust that maybe he wasn’t as alone as he always feared. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t going to leave him behind like he feared you would.
The faint shimmer of tears fractured the soft kitchen light. He was at a loss of words at how you were holding him together, when he couldn't even do it for himself.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I keep putting you through this.”
Your hand found his, fingers intertwining with his. Your grip was warm, It was reassuring and steady. “Don’t be,” you said softly. You could tell that he had a nightmare. You learned the signs— the shaking, the sweating. The look of restlessness despite being asleep for the last several hours. “You just had a rough night.”
Bucky trembled against you, feeling him unravelling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was short and it came in shaky bursts. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and heavy, soaking into your skin. They started quietly, a gentle release, but soon turned into shuddering sobs that echoed against the kitchen counter, the walls, the floors.
His grip tightened, fingers twirling into the fabric of your shirt as if you were his anchor in this reality. Each sob was raw, steeped in guilt and in the fear of losing you.
No matter how vulnerable he felt, he knew that in your embrace, there was no judgement. You held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances and sweet nothings— promises that you’d stay with him forever and ever. Until the end of time. Until your heart gave out.
“Do you want hot chocolate, too?” you asked softly.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a small laugh, your words a shocking catharsis, bringing him out of the spiral.
Oh, you always knew how to say the right thing at the right time.
He nodded, squeezing your hand one more time, just to reassure himself that you were real, that you weren’t slipping away.
You smiled gently at his quiet laugh, slightly reaching out to turn the electric kettle back on again without letting your grip on him falter.
As the kettle hummed in the background, Bucky held you close, finally convincing himself that no matter how dark the nightmares were, you would always be there when he woke up.
-end
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader angst#the winter soldier#winter soldier#catws#fatws#marvel thunderbolts#thunderbolts#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes x y/n#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#marvel fanfic
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HEART MADE OF GLASS
a/n: this is totally not to make myself feel better. totally not self indulgent cause i couldn't finish cooking my dinner last night. that gif is also self indulgent. but also hopefully a distraction from how angsty this kind of is. divider as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics.
summary: you couldn't control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.
word count: 1.1k
pairing: logan howlett x reader
warnings: angst, fluff, disassociating, depression isn't outright stated but that's what it is, meat eating (sorry i'm an iron anemic bitch), logan's love language being acts of service.
The fire alarm never went off when you were in the kitchen. So he felt his heart jump at the sound of it blaring through the small apartment. Even down the hall and in the bathroom he smelled the bitter smoke as it rose from the pan you were currently staring at. A blank expression on your face and hand gripping the handle.
He meant to grab his flannel and join you for dinner. What he didn't expect was the emptiness of a silent kitchen not filled with your usual music. Your soft hums as you try to keep in tune with the song.
Logan's favorite pastime was standing in the doorway watching you cook whatever creation came to mind. Whether it tasted good or positively vile, he'd eat it one way or another. He'd swallow happily with a grin simply to see that smile bloom across your face. A look he did everything possible to keep right where it was meant to be.
"Bub?"
You startled, flinching at the sound of the alarm as you shoved the pan away from the burner. "Shit. Sorry."
A frown etched onto his face at your quick apology—your eyes never quite meeting him. "Everythin' okay?"
"Yeah," you said, lying right through your teeth. "I just got distracted."
Logan could hear the bullshit louder than the alarm. He knew something was wrong, because he'd seen it before. The silence that filled a once loud household. How you slowed down during the day, unable to finish simple tasks without pushing yourself over the edge. He watched you dwindle down to the barest bones your body had to offer and yet you never asked him for help.
You never explained why it occurred.
This wasn't in part because you didn't want to. You did. You simply held no real reason for why your body—your mind—chose to betray you at the oddest of times. At first you figured it was the lack of sleep. The restlessness that ate away at your body each night—keeping you up and active until finally you wore yourself out.
But this wasn't that.
This came from deep inside your chest, lingering beneath the surface—waiting for something good to happen before it struck with a vengeance. This protruded out of your very nightmares.
"Need some help?" He knew the answer before it came. No.
What could he possibly do that you hadn't tried a million times over? There was no easy fix for something this brutal. Silently, you begged him to leave the kitchen and find something else to occupy his time. He stubbornly stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you dumped the now burned pan in the sink. What might have been a delicious steak now looked like a charred brick.
The sight of it still smoking only seemed to dampen your mood further.
You fought to keep yourself there, in the moment. But the dazed expression from earlier began to slowly trail its way back up your face. Until you could do nothing but stare at the mess you made, exhaustion slicing down to your bones.
His looming presence became an afterthought to all that filtered through your head. All the brittle and vile thoughts you tried to keep at bay. Some days they managed to weasel their way past your infinite walls. Some days...they found joy in tearing you up inside little by little.
Voicing it aloud though would never be an option to the havoc you tried to tame.
"C'mon," he muttered, his hands pulling at your hips to move you. "Out of the kitchen."
"I can finish–"
His glare was devastating.
Most of the time you'd ask him to tell you what he was thinking. Tonight you understood his demand. Get out of the kitchen before you hurt yourself. Let him do what you often did for everyone else.
Give him the chance to put you first.
He points to the chair originally pulled out for him. "Sit down."
But unlike other people he encountered, you were far more stubborn. "I don't–"
"Sit on the chair bub. Or I'll tie you to it." The grin he gives you is filled with sarcasm, but you can see the truth shining in his eyes. He wouldn't hesitate to follow through on a promise like that. He wouldn't even blink. "Your choice."
There was no argument left to throw at him, because his attention was elsewhere. So you sat. You allowed yourself to rest as he stumbled his way through the kitchen. Logan couldn't really cook. He picked up what he could through the life he lived, but nothing came out exactly perfect. That wasn't what warmed your heart at the sight of him standing there intent on delivering a meal worth eating.
He didn't shy away when you tried to push. When the horror that you needed someone to help was no longer a fact you could ignore. No matter how hard you shoved and bit and did what you could to scare him off. Logan pushed back. He quelled your bite with a stature of resolute stoicism.
With an exhale, he flipped the burner off and slid whatever he'd made onto a clean plate. Watching him move felt as if you were being placed in a trance. You almost told him that once in your first week of dating. Something told you he already knew by the way your eyes tracked him from the kitchen to the table.
"Steak," he said, sitting with a grunt.
A quick glance told you one thing. Logan didn't know shit about cooking steak.
You grinned nonetheless.
"There's..." Red spilled down the side, pooling on the plate as steam hit your face. "How long did you cook it?"
He shrugged, slicing it with ease and plopping a piece into his mouth. "Tastes fine to me."
"I'm sure it does."
"Watch it bub," he muttered mid chew, his lips curled into a smirk.
Making a show of zipping your lips shut, you took the piece he offered you. And as he did each time before, you ate it with a grin simply to watch his smirk turn into a smile. There may have been no salt, no extra flavor, and strangely a charred sensation with each bite. But you could taste the love spreading across your tongue with ease.
"Delicious," you garbled in the hopes he'd understand how much you loved him.
He snorted, shoving the plate to the center of the table. His thumb swiped at the juice that leaked from the corner of your mouth, causing your heart to jump erratically in your chest. Even on your bad days he managed to flip the switch in your mind with simple touches and soft looks.
"'M gonna order a pizza."
Leaning into his hand, you pressed a kiss to his wrist. "Thank you."
#just need a large man to cook me food when my mood dips drastically#manifesting this for all of you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x y/n#wolverine#my writing
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consumed [san x reader]
pairing: vampire ! San x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, angst, vampire au, darkfic
summary: After getting a taste of your blood, San dedicates himself entirely to you — whether you want him to or not.
wc: 5.6k
general warnings: non-con elements, pheromone-induced ‘consent’ but reader resists at first, blood drinking, reader’s blood literally drives San crazy, he is delusional and obsessed and thinks it’s love, abduction, mention of San killing a nameless stranger to feed on
smut warnings: somnophilia, praise kink, body worship, vaginal fingering / sex, creampie, spanking, cum feeding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, scratching, petnames for reader (darling, sweet girl, angel, love)
a/n: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! reader is afab & she/her pronouns are used
“You’re not supposed to keep them around this long, San.”
Yunho does not speak the words unkindly, though his disapproval is plain to hear.
“She’s different,” San says quietly, shaking his head. He doesn’t understand why Yunho can’t see that.
They’re standing in the wide, spacious living room of San’s penthouse; decorated in an elegant, bare minimalism that leaves no doubt over the many digits in his bank account’s credit balance. Yunho hangs back by the exit to the foyer, like he already knows he’ll outstay his welcome with this topic of conversation.
San is not looking at him, staring out the floor-length window with his forearm leaned against the glass, tinted with a special filter for his safety during daylight. But the sun has not risen yet, though the city is already bustling with activity in the early morning. From this height, San can barely make out the specks of people on the sidewalks and in their cars; their minute size reflecting their significance.
No one else in this city matters. Only you.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?” Yunho remarks, annoyingly astute.
The corner of San’s lips twitches.
Yunho’s objections are irrelevant, he tells himself, deafening his ears to the truth in that question. He has to, if the alternative is to give you up. He can’t.
Ever since San found you, a chance meeting at a hotel bar, he has been enamoured by you. Your tinkling laugh, the sway of your hips, that wicked glint in your eyes when you realised his interest. You made him work for it, to persuade you up to his room, but not too hard. Just a little game, both of you pretending that you hadn’t decided to fuck yourself senseless on his cock from the moment you laid eyes on him.
Yes, he’d been taken with you from the start — but it wasn’t until the elevator ride up to his hotel room that San realised you were more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, meal.
There San had gotten a proper whiff of you, undiluted by the smells of food and drinks and other patrons.
You’d moaned when he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, nerves creeping into the edge of your voice. You had also finally realised that San was more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, one-night stand; some primal part of your brain warned you of danger.
It hadn’t mattered at that point. You mumbled something about having left your phone down at the bar, trying to untangle yourself from San’s grip — but all he had to do was grab your waist tighter, yanking you back against his body as he testingly lapped at your jugular. San’s hunger was growing, and you had been powerless against the push of his pheromones dousing your susceptible human brain. From then on, you were a willing banquet for him to feast on.
(Still, San was generous. He still let you fuck yourself senseless on his cock.)
The longer he’d fed on you, the more he was dizzied by your scent; like he was breathing in oxygen for the first time in over six-hundred years. Your voice, sweet in your cries, pleading for him like he was the only lifeline still binding you to this mortal coil. Your taste… San never tasted anyone like you before.
Like you are his lifeline, your blood hot in his gut, saturating his veins with essential nutrition. Liquid sunlight, warming him from the inside. No one else tastes like this. No one else feels like this.
All of his plans were thrown out the window; to wipe the questionable details from your mind and abandon you before morning light. Instead he had taken you with him, given you a home, devoted himself to you with every fibre of his being.
His dedication never wavered, even when you began to resist the haze of his subjugation; when you no longer understood that everything San does, he does out of love for you.
But it’s not your fault — and San is not so fickle as to abandon you now. His loyalty is stronger than your blindness to it.
So how dare Yunho tell him it’s time to let you go?
“For fuck’s sake, at least turn her if you’re so attached to your little toy,” Yunho continues, and San’s face twitches at the blatant disrespect of you. A toy? “It’d be a kindness, and not only to her. Sannie, I’m worried about you.”
“It’s time for you to go home, Yunho. The sun is about to rise,” San says coolly, not even taking his eyes off the city skyline to see his oldest friend off.
Yunho lets out a frustrated sigh, but concedes to San’s stubbornness — for now. “This isn’t the last we’ve spoken of this,” he warns, and with that, Yunho turns away and leaves. He does not take San’s bad mood with him though; he leaves that behind to fester in San’s cold, deficient blood like a rot.
San stands alone in his luxurious penthouse, resisting a sharp urge to put his fist through the filtered glass of his window. He settles for digging his nails into his palms, a low growl escaping past his gritted teeth.
He needs you. Now more than ever.
The thought is all-consuming, hunger blazing through him. But right now, his devotion is tainted by rage, and he cannot risk to have you touched by it. San did that once, mercilessly rough as he took you; not even to feed, just to know you are his. He still has not forgiven himself for it. He never will.
But Yunho’s incessant meddling is not the only thing that has soured San’s mood — and it only makes his need worse.
San knows he has to be mindful of your health, allowing you time to recover between feedings. And so he hunted fresh prey, just a few days ago. It had been a brutish affair, sloppy and violent. San had almost gagged on the young man’s blood, a vile and repugnant liquor compared to yours, and left a scene of savage destruction behind.
(Hongjoong had arranged a clean-up afterwards, for which he’d heatedly told San off. Come to think of it, Hongjoong probably sent Yunho today too. He needs to stop fucking coddling San just because he is a few centuries younger. San could’ve handled it himself.)
Days later, the taste of inferior blood still lingers on San’s tongue, streams through his veins, and his craving for you becomes too powerful to withstand. He yearns for a sustenance and a comfort only you can provide.
No, San cannot go back to an existence without you.
Restlessly he paces across his home, through the spacious living room past the gallery and the master bedroom, all the way to a wide terrace that looks over the bay. Sometimes he takes you there, at night when the stars are bright, but the sun is already out. San ignores the terrace, heading to a relatively modest bedroom tucked into the corner of the penthouse.
A small, delicate silver key hangs on an equally delicate silver chain around his neck, resting on his chest. He takes off the necklace and uses the key to unlock the door to your room.
With his hand resting on the doorknob, San takes a deep, grounding breath. Already he can smell you through the white-painted wood, and just a faint whiff is enough to blunt the edges of his frustrations, while sharpening his hunger.
He opens the door.
Inside, he finds you laying motionless on a large mahogany bed underneath a wide, open skylight. Your nude body is sprawled over the velvet sheets, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun. At peace in your sleep. There is a golden cuff fastened around your ankle, with a long narrow chain to the wall; sometimes your confused mind beckons you to flee, to make some misguided escape attempt, but the chain protects you from making such mistakes.
San closes the door behind him as quietly as he can, careful not to wake you. Reverently, he watches your sleeping form, drinking in the sight of your steady breathing, how your skin glows in the unfiltered sunlight. Light that is deadly to him, but nurturing to you.
His eyes find the three scabbed-over bite marks on your naked body; on your neck, your inner thigh, and your wrist. San is partial to your thigh, mingling the sweet flavours of arousal and blood as he feeds, but every single one of them sings to him right now — angelic temptation.
Still, he resists a moment longer. He likes watching you sleep; the slow rhythm of your chest as you draw breath, your steady heartbeat thumping through peaceful dreams. He hates watching you sleep; to see you in a state of blissful serenity that only the oblivion of unconsciousness brings. He tries to give you that same peace in the waking world, tries so hard, but you struggle against it more and more.
He yearns to touch you, to remind you of true bliss, but even a mere step forward would make him burn in the sun’s light.
Some days he wants to. Wants to burn for you. Perhaps if you saw the true depths of his devotion, you would finally stop forgetting.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Yunho’s words echo through him, mockingly. Now that Yunho is gone, San can begrudgingly admit their truth. Your body is instinctively building a harmful resistance to his pheromones, like a dangerous bacterial strain resisting antibiotics. All San wants to do is cure your hurts, but your own physiology is cruelly sabotaging your happiness.
San’s fingers itch as he gets antsy. He’ll fix it. He’ll fix you. He will find a way.
He flicks a switch on the wall and the solar blinds go down. You stir at the faint whirring noise, whimper instinctively when shade encroaches on your naked body. You do not wake. Not yet.
Soon the room is engulfed in darkness, but San sees you clearly. Still, for your sake he lights a few candles, bathing the room in a different warm glow. Then he slowly shucks his clothes, dark eyes pinned on your slumbering figure.
The mattress dips as San joins you, the sheets still warmed by the sun. It makes San’s skin itch, but all discomfort fades when he turns you onto your side and curls up behind you, finding refuge in your body heat. San groans as you envelop his senses, and he noses at the bite mark on your neck.
You belong to him. It’s time to remind you of that.
Peaceful dreams still have you in their clutches, so you do nothing except sigh softly when San runs his palm over your plush thigh, then hooks your leg over his to open you up for him. A sigh becomes a moan when his fingers part your lower lips; sleep renders you almost as pliant as San’s subjugation does — even if it does not taste as sweet.
By now, San has mapped out your body’s every pleasure-point through his thorough explorations. Knows exactly how to press down against your clit to have your muscles twitching under his insistent touch. He hums in satisfaction at how easily his devoted fingers coax forth the slick between your thighs. It gives him hope.
San’s breath picks up at your heightened arousal, his otherwise useless blood rushing down to his cock. How wonderful would it be, if you are already brought under his spell once you awaken? He groans at the thought, muffling his sounds with an open-mouthed kiss against your neck. You squirm against him; your body is starting to wake, even if your mind is not quite there yet.
He suckles at the precious scab on your neck, canines elongating as he grinds against your backside. His razor-sharp teeth scrape against the scar that he has reopened over and over again — but San hisses, somehow finding the strength to pull back.
He mustn’t feed on you, not yet. Only when you want him to.
Two of his thick fingers have moved down, now buried knuckle-deep into your sopping heat. The faint squelch of it threatens to drive San mad just as much as your scent does, his every sense overwhelmed by the existence of you. He whines, barely able to keep himself from rutting into you when your hips jerk involuntarily against his fingers.
San knows immediately when you wake.
He senses the jolt in your heartbeat, hears the sharp catch of breath, feels how you stiffen in his arms. A muted shock rushes through your body as your mind tries to process what is happening to it.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” San shushes immediately, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “It’s just me. You’re safe with me.”
But San’s dreams that you would awaken safely under his influence are shattered when you let out a pained whimper. You weakly shake your head, trembling as awareness of your current situation swiftly dawns on you. Feeble hands push at his arms.
“No,” you croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. “Hm, n-no— hmm, hmgh—“
You gasp as San’s fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow circles intended to soothe. “Yes,” he purrs. “Just let it happen, my love.”
He grunts as your nails claw at his wrist, some strength flowing back into your body as your consciousness comes back to you. Your other hand reaches to push at his face — but San’s sharp teeth nip at your fingers in warning when you almost scratch at his eyes, and you flinch away to yank at his hair instead.
Irritation and heartache pang through San’s chest at your incomprehension, and he helplessly listens to your babbled, futile protests. Soon. It will all be better soon.
“Please, stop—”
You break on the word with a wretched sob, a tear escaping your lashes. San’s heart wrenches at the sight. He does not like to see you cry, not when it’s like this. “No no no, darling,” he murmurs gently, the glide of his fingers easy through your sodden folds. “It’s okay, it will be okay… Don’t cry, you feel good — aren’t I making you feel good?”
You merely sob again, twisting against his hold, but San has you pulled too tightly against his chest. He feels your body tense, smells the unwanted pleasure buzzing through your veins. You gnaw at your bottom lip to bite down the moans rising from your lungs, but San will not allow you to fight it. He leans over your shoulder, licking into your mouth until your jaw slackens and your moans spill free. (You dare not bite his tongue. That’s a lesson you did not forget.)
“That’s it, that’s my sweet girl,” San praises. “Let me hear you.”
Your protests have died down to nothing but hitched breaths and hiccups, unable to back away from the inevitable precipice that San pushes you towards. All your instincts contradict one another, wanting to escape, wanting to chase this bright, fiery thread of pleasure until you are unravelled into nothing but pure rapture.
You choke back a throttled cry, grinding back against San’s cock. He whines at the friction, but stays focused on you; you come first. You always do. It won’t be much longer now.
He can tell by the way your thighs tremble, how your legs try to lock around his fingers. Your scent is overwhelming now; dizzying San’s mind with no thoughts of anything but to shatter your existence into bite-sized pieces. Still you try to resist, but San overwhelms you in turn, mouthing at your neck and working your puffy clit. The pitch of your moans rise, chest heaving with shuddering gasps, until you seize up with a strangled sob. Fresh slick gushes onto his fingers and San does not stop, thrusting three glistening fingers inside you to fuck you through your unwilling release.
“Please, please stop,” you sob, mewling with every aftershock that jolts through you. You beg him endlessly, convulsing in his arms — but then your scent changes, and the nature of your pleas shifts into something else entirely. “S-Sannie… please…”
The fear and nausea in your scent make way for your natural sweetness, embracing San in warm welcome as you finally call his name. He whimpers in relief.
You’re here. You’ve come back to him.
“What is it, darling?” he hums, nosing at your cheek. “Tell me, what do you need?”
“San, please, n-need…” You grasp at his wrist again, keeping him firmly in place as you falter for words. Your brain is in a haze. What do you need? Why can’t you think? One moment, everything was all wrong, panic searing through your aching nerves, and now… now…
San.
You need San.
You turn your head to look at him with tearful eyes, and smile dazedly at the fondness in his gaze, filled with heated affection. The flickering candles cast a halo of light around his face, shadows dancing over his high cheekbones and chiselled jaw.
“You… Need you closer,” you whine, aching as he smiles at you with crinkled eyes and a faint dimple. “Inside, p-please, want you inside me, San…”
The desperate yet demure request pleases him, a low noise of approval rumbling in his chest. He presses a tender kiss on your cheek, then takes out his fingers and pulls away from you.
You let out a pained moan at San’s sudden absence; to be without him hurts, the mere thought bringing about an excruciating burn inside your head. There is a strange pressure inside your skull, like a deeply buried thought tries to claw to the surface. But the pain is replaced by equal heights of bliss when San gathers you into his arms again, wrapping around you like a protective blanket.
He only moved to sit up against the headboard, now guiding you into his lap. You come willingly, eagerly, sighing in relief as his hands run over your feverish skin.
“There you go, my angel,” San rasps, restlessly grabbing at your waist to rock you into his hard cock. “So sweet, so good to me. Come, take what you want. I’m all yours, love.”
You whine at his offer and San’s lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile at your neediness. This is how it is supposed to be.
His eyes are drawn downward to your hands, and he grunts as you stroke him slowly, as though testing the warmth and thickness of him in your palm. Already he is leaking from the tip, a primal frenzy nudging at the back of his skull. Hunger.
Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long before you lift your hips and finally sink down on him. San throws back his head with a low growl, the pulsing wet heat of your cunt threatening to tear his self-control to shreds. His fangs have protracted fully, itching to seek out your veins.
Not yet, he reminds himself again, straining against his own impatience. First he needs to watch as you ride him; to see you use him for your own pleasure. To know his all-encompassing desire for you is returned in kind.
You provide him exactly what he craves.
Within mere moments, the candle-lit room is filled with your unabashed whines and the lewd slap of skin-on-skin as you bury San’s thick cock in your tight heat over and over again. Your pace is frantic, shameless in your desperation as you cling onto San’s wide shoulders, your nails close to drawing blood. The irony of that is not lost on him.
San’s head has fallen back, his jaw slack as he draws heavy breaths, utterly entranced by your depravity.
He lovingly admires the glow of sweat on your skin, beads trickling down the valley of your breasts that bounce with every snap of your hips. San is of half a mind to add a fourth bite to his collection on your body, draining you right over your heart. He licks his lips, groaning tightly when you grab his hand and move it from your hip to your backside.
San gives it an appreciative squeeze, but you shake your head and whine loudly.
Ah… message received.
You don’t flinch when San’s lips spread into a wide grin, his fangs on full display. He loves you for that.
He also loves the way your entire body jolts when his palm sharply lands on your ass. Your rhythm falters when he strikes again, your arms trembling as you struggle to remain upright.
“Want more, my love?” San croons, and draws his tongue across his deadly canines. A hot wire thrums through him when you mewl in confirmation, though he can tell you are getting tired. Stamina is not your greatest strength, not with your necessary confinement — but you always give him everything, wearing yourself out on his thick cock until your muscles give in.
Every smack of San’s hand against your rear is received with your loud keening, eyes squeezing shut. Tears streak down your cheeks, and San’s cock twitches inside your throbbing cunt. The shimmering wetness on your skin is a thing of beauty to him now; so overwhelmed by pleasure that your body seeks release anywhere, even in your tears.
San bucks up at the same time that his hand connects with your ass again, and you wail at the impact, crumpling against his chest. Weakly you cling onto his shoulders, moaning pitifully when San continues to roll his hips.
“Good, feels so good… Sannie…” you babble against his collarbone, the words tripping over your clumsy tongue. “Want… want…”
Your tongue darts out against his neck and without further warning, your teeth sink into his skin.
San grunts in surprise at the sudden sting, but then he chuckles breathlessly at your precious attempt to bite him. Your canines are uselessly blunt compared to his, only capable of breaking skin with the greatest effort — and you are already far too fucked out for that.
“Oh darling,” he coos, tipping up your chin. “Is that what you want? Then show me, my love.”
You snivel adorably, tilting your head to offer up the mark on your neck to San’s hungry mouth. Your quiet submission sears through his body, down to his crotch and his stomach, and San presses his nose against the old bite, breathing in deeply.
You whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue over the half-healed scab. Just a faint scrape of his teeth first, not enough to break skin, only to revel in the anticipation. Your heartbeat quickens, blood pulsing under his lips. San can wait no longer.
His eyes roll back with an animalistic snarl as he descends, fangs piercing through flesh with ease. He growls at the first pull of blood, metallic sweetness coating his lips and tongue as your essence floods his senses.
“Yes, yes— Ah, ah, ahhh…” You arch your back into him, slowly rolling your hips in time with San’s noisy, messy slurps. Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him in place as he drinks deep.
Euphoria.
Pure euphoria.
Drowning in you, in the sublime intoxication. San can barely feel his body anymore, only distantly aware of you rutting tiredly into him, of how he humps upward with increasing force as he loses himself in your taste.
He does hear your cries of delirious ecstasy, right by his ear when his hand slides between your bodies to find your clit on pure instinct. With his cock and fangs buried inside you, you reach your zenith with violent force, convulsing underneath his blood-stained mouth.
San grabs tighter onto you as you writhe, forcing you to stay in place as he drinks unrelentingly. He groans at how you clench around his cock, hips stuttering when he finds release — but even that is drowned out by the frenzy of his feed, mindlessly fucking his seed deeper into your cunt while he sucks at your wound, trying not to spill any of your precious liquor.
Slowly your whines die down and you start to go limp in San’s arms, just as he grows lethargic in the aftermath of his indulgence, his hunger finally sated.
You let out a weak moan when his fangs retract with a wet sound, and for a moment San thinks you passed out; but your eyes flutter open when he pulls out and manoeuvres you onto your back. A weak rivulet of blood drips down your shoulder, but you smile up at him with glassy eyes. He must look monstrous, redness smeared across his lips and chin, but there is nothing but want in your gaze, and San thinks that perhaps his hunger is not completely sated after all.
“Did so well, my love,” he murmurs, running his fingers up your inner thigh to catch the trickle of cum leaking out. “Always taking such good care of me.”
He offers up his glistening fingers to you, and you accept with no hesitation. Tiredly, your tongue swirls around the sticky digits, taking all that San feeds you. It only seems fair to him; exchanging one bodily essence for another. He cannot give you his blood, cannot risk accidentally turning you, but at least he can give you this.
Soon his fingers are sucked clean, but you whine as San pulls his hand back, your mouth chasing after him. “N-no, San…” Your eyes glitter with unspoken pleas, and a fond pride swells inside him at your insatiable urges.
“My sweet girl needs more, does she?” San asks, bearing down on you with a pleased smile. He drapes himself over you, humming in approval when your legs reflexively part to make room for him.
You giggle when his nose brushes against yours, his sweaty hair tickling at your face. “San, you’re a mess,” you tease, running your thumb across his lips. It comes back red.
San just moans in contentment, pressing a bloodied kiss against your cheek as he slowly grinds against your cunt. Your giggles quickly turn to gasps, wiggling underneath his persistent hips. His cock is so sensitive the friction almost hurts, but it’s all worth it when you grab onto his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, heedless of his tainted lips.
Your tongue slides against his, and San laughs into your mouth when your nose scrunches up in discontent at the strong taste of blood. As insatiable as you may be, only one of you is a true vampire. Instead San kisses a trail across your jaw, down your neck. He laps at the dried blood, the wound already closed, then suckles at the surrounding skin once you are clean. His hands wander over your body, relishing your heightened responses to his touch as he slowly works you up again.
You sigh at the soft squeeze of your breasts, back arching when his thumbs play across your nipples. San luxuriates in the curves of your body, sliding down to envelop a hardened nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. He takes his time, clever but unhurried fingers teasing deftly between your thighs.
Breathy moans echo through the quiet bedroom, languid pleasure gradually shifting to something more urgent. You start grasping at his shoulders, tell him to fill you up already, and San has never been one to deny you.
He hisses as he gives his cock a few more strokes, but ignores all sensitivity to please you, to plunge his thick length back inside your sopping cunt, drenched with seed and arousal. San bottoms out in one smooth thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gasp for breath as he starts a steady rhythm, careful to find the exact angle he knows will have you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
The lethargy of his feed forces San to take it slow, settling for deep, intense thrusts to have your toes curl into the sheets. He cages you between his elbows, pressing shallow kisses on your lips; and the taste of blood has faded enough that you can happily accept his mouth, tongues gliding against each other in a sloppy tangle.
You moan as San’s pace picks up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The cuff on your ankle presses against his lower back, and a tinge of bittersweetness invades San’s palate at the reminder that it’s is not always like this. But he shakes it off, choosing to stay submerged in pure sweetness for now. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy you.
The slow roll of his hips turns to powerful thrusts as his sluggishness fades, his strength now boosted by the fresh, invigorating effect of your blood. Soon the bed is rattling at the onslaught of his force — he is fucking bruises into your hips, he is sure of it, but still you beg for more, for him. He gives it all.
“So good, fucking me so well,” you keen, and San glows at your praise, spurring him on harder.
He does not slow down when you seize up around him; fucking you through your orgasm, through your body’s attempts to clamp down on him. He hisses at the tightness of your cunt but does not stop, does not relent until you’re sobbing underneath him, your hands clutching at his sweat-slicked back. His muscles ripple with every merciless thrust, low grunts escaping him as his own release draws near, but San pushes through with gritted teeth, fixated on the unrestrained pleasure that contorts your face.
Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, your body jostled helplessly by the rough snap of his hips. Your voice fails you, moans catching soundlessly in your throat as you tense around his cock again. San reaches down a hand to find your swollen clit, groans when it barely takes a touch for you to release a choked up cry — and this time San can’t fight the way you clench around him. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whines, filling you up just as you’d begged him to. He grabs onto your hips to hold your squirming body still as he bucks into you a few more times, his cum leaking past his cock and mingling with your juices, smeared across your thighs and his pelvis.
With a final whine, San pulls out and collapses by your side, his legs tangled with yours.
He recovers slowly, gasping for breath, and his heart clenches when you curl up into him, wiggling yourself between his arms for his embrace.
San is not sure how long you lay there like that, with him gently patting your hair, your quiet breaths falling on his chest. Your heartbeat steadies slowly, and it pains San when he decides it is time to pull away.
As he predicted, you babble tired protests at once, weakly clutching at his arm as you beg him not to go. He allows himself a contented smile, but shakes his head at your pleas.
“You need to eat,” he points out, though he can’t resist showering you with kisses. He smothers you in affection until you’re breathless and whining — which is one way to silence your protests, he supposes — but San cannot be so selfish to stay and do it all over again. He needs to take care of you. “I’ll be right back with some breakfast, alright? You need to regain your strength,” he soothes. “After, we can take a bath together, how does that sound?”
San’s tender kisses have put a dopey smile on your face, and you nod sluggishly at his proposal. “That sounds perfect,” you admit. “Just… come back soon, okay?”
“I will,” he promises, raising your hand to his lips to press a last kiss on the scab on your wrist.
San puts on a comfortable robe that he keeps in your room for just this sort of occasion, then exits, locking the door behind him out of habit. He tries not to rush himself, but still he can’t help but hurry his steps as he picks up an already prepared breakfast from the kitchen. He does not want to return to find you have abandoned him again already.
An uneasy sense of foreboding fills him as he returns to your room. The waft of sex and blood still hangs heavily in the corridor, masking your scent as he unlocks the door again in frustrated impatience. San swallows thickly, praying his bad feeling is just that; a feeling.
But the door swings open, and San knows at once. He does not even need to smell you; your freshly tear-stained, puffy cheeks already tell him that it is too late, your heartbeat spiking harshly at his return. Your arms tremble as you inch back on the bed, subtly as though you do not want to anger him, but still putting as much distance between you and San as possible.
It takes everything for San not to recoil from your sudden rejection of his gift. His fingers clench around the breakfast tray, grief burning behind his eyes. He swears, it did not used to wear off this fast.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Shut the fuck up, Yunho.
San shakes his head, collecting himself. It’s no matter. He sets the tray down on a side-table, and gently approaches your shaking form on the bed. He will drag you back to him again, as many times as he has to.
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#san smut#ateez imagines#ateez fanfiction#ateez fic#san x reader#ateez hard hours#kpop smut#ateez#san#ateez scenarios#ateez san#choi san#igby’s writing
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Basically, it’s discovered that to help stabilize Danielle, aka Ellie, it’d be best to have her be smaller. She refused to be turned into a kid by Frostbite/her own power ability, when Danny remembered the shrink ray his parents made. The side effect is that they’re kind of stuck as humans when they’re that small—they can use some ghost powers, but basically, it’s a weird side effect of the shrink ray. That’s canon, by the fucking way, lmao
Anyways, so Ellie agrees, and Danny will shrink himself with the ray to her size to help her out when needed/when she wants company her size, with Jazz, Sam, and Tucker occasionally helping out. Sam buys one of those really ornate Victorian dollhouses, with wooden everything, and Danny does some… renovations… so that it no longer opens and is a proper house. There’s still some oddities because it’s a dollhouse originally, but it was easier and faster to give her a home. One of the first additions was a water/wastewater system, followed like two hours later by an electrical system. Since it was so small, Danny was able to do it fairly quickly in his big size, occasionally going small and using the small window for using his powers to double check on things.
The water system had to be refilled every week, unless hooked up to a plumbing system in a house, which Danny made some outlets for in Jazz’s room—it was easier and had significantly less questions/didn’t stand out as much if placed in Jazz’s room. They usually did it every three days, though, as the plug-in process was still a bit… hinky. The tanks for holding the water were in the ‘basement’, which was mostly inaccessible from the inside of the dollhouse but basically looked like a big stand the dollhouse stayed on. Like someone ripped a full house out of the ground WITH the basement attached. There was a small access hallway down some stairs in the house for the clean water system, though.
The electric system was fairly simple, as it didn’t cost much energy to light a dollhouse and heat/cool water. There was an AC unit, Ellie’s request, but it hardly was used and was fairly efficient just due to pure size. It was fueled by ecto batteries, which Danny made sure had a few rechargability options—just because it was efficient energy didn’t mean it didn’t ever need recharging. There was a very small ecto filter, but due to its relative small size, was easy to clean and was fairly stable, so they had a whole closet of them just chilling out, both filled and empty. The battery itself could be charged by ecto sources, Danny’s own blood, or ambient ectoplasm gained by using something that looked like a solar panel and a satellite dish had a child that the batter could be placed in. The hookup also allowed for like… normal D cell batteries.
They would buy dollhouse furniture, and occasionally just buy the big version then shrink it down. Ellie had a huge old house to herself, basically, might as well go ham. And she had a fun time with the designer doll clothes Sam liked to get, although the cheap doll clothes from the store were also fun. Best option was just buying normal clothes and shrinking them, but using things that were already small or just making stuff using normal sized objects was fun.
At some point, though, the Fenton siblings decide to go on a trip. Ellie begs to be taken along, and Jazz agrees—there’s a doll showcase in Gotham, and Jazz wanted to see if anything caught Ellie’s interest. Danny, having a room in the dollhouse himself, also went along. Might as well make it a sibling’s trip, right?
Ellie can be full size for small chunks of time, which they did while exploring the expo. They found some cool things to add, and some doll clothes Ellie was far too interested in trying on, as well as some to force on Danny later. He sighed, but like—that’s his little cousin-sister, he’d put up with it. After all, he learned how to plumb an entire (miniature) house in two days when she refused to move in until it had a fully functional bathroom, so.
Anyways!
They have a fun time, and sure, lugging the relatively giant dollhouse was a PAIN, but it was Ellie’s home, and some stabilizing tech made it relatively safe to move without risking everything freaking breaking. They load everything in again, and the dollhouse is now restocked with clothes, tiny furniture, and a lot of shrunken supplies—some foods are just hard to work with full size, and are easier to shrink, okay? Also soap, paper goods, pencils and pens, books, etc. Jazz loads the thing into her car, and Danny offers to stay with Ellie in the dollhouse—so Jazz gets them in, and shrinks them down, holding onto the shrink ray in the meantime.
All is going relatively well in Gotham traffic until there’s a rogue attack.
Go figure.
Jazz ends up unconscious, and Danny and Ellie can’t do anything before the rogue is taken care of and a paramedic team comes up. They hide back in the dollhouse, listening as the medics say she seems to be okay, just unconscious. A relief, but now they’re taking Jazz away. Fenton luck states she’s one of the few actually injured. The Bat Brigade comes by, and Batman notices that there’s a wallet for one Danny Fenton. Red Robin confirms that Jazz was likely here with at least two other people, based on the ticket stubs for the expo. However, there is a strange lack of social media presence, Danny doesn’t have a photo ID, and there’s no way of knowing for SURE that it was just Danny with her, if it was just two other people, or if Danny was in the car with her. Still, as they can’t find him but DO have his sister and his wallet, they assume he might be missing, possibly kidnapped.
The Gotham PD of course take in the car, although it’s pretty trashed. Knowing well and good that the dollhouse and such things are actually quite expensive, Commissioner Gordon mentions that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Batman to maybe hold onto the Fenton’s things that *aren’t* related to the investigation.
Batman just takes everything. Including a rather peculiar looking gun that seems to have sustained some damage during the attack and car crash.
Gordon sighs. Figures.
So, Danny and Ellie end up in Wayne Manor. Most of the things end up in the Batcave, but Alfred insists that they place the doll things upstairs in the manor proper—the cave isn’t *that* damp, but doll things are small and delicate. So, upstairs they go.
At first, it’s fine. Danny and Ellie are fine in the dollhouse, and it’ll be at least a week before any of the systems NEED to be worked with.
Then Ellie ends up with a massive migraine. She gets them, on occasion, a sort of growing pain. Usually, they just shrink some medicine for her as she needs it, because she’s like—twelve. While they did have some medicine that had been pre-shrunk, when they were stocking up in Gotham, it turns out pain medicine was more expensive there. Not by much, but they figured—they’ll just stock up in Amity Park, they’ll be there in two days.
Haha. Nope.
So, Danny finally has to venture out. He lucks into finding the first aid kit—why there was one in the main living room, he’s not sure—and is currently working on trying to get open the blister packet of an ibuprofen when Alfred finds him.
Alfred stares at this tiny boy with a tiny make-shift knife trying to get into… over the counter pain medication.
Danny stares at this butler guy who had very gently cleaned the outside and noted the strange fact that the dollhouse did not open.
Danny waves at Alfred.
Alfred waves a tiny finger back.
“Hello,” Alfred says softly, which is fantastic because loud noises could get painful—part of the reason for Ellie’s headache was an argument between Tim and Damian. “How do you do?”
Danny hesitates, before he makes an exaggerated so-so gesture.
“You understand me?”
Danny nods—it’s rare for people to understand what he’s saying when he’s 5 inches tall.
“How wonderful,” Alfred smiles. “And how can I help our young guest tonight?”
Danny gestures to the blister packet.
“Pain medication? Isn’t that a little bit large for you.”
The teen thinks for a second on how to communicate. He points to the pill, then makes a slight show of pretending to grind something, like a mortar and pestle.
Thankfully, Alfred got the idea. “Would it be easier if I ground it up for you?”
Danny takes a moment to think before accepting with an enthusiastic nod.
“Very well,” Alfred says, taking the blister packet in one hand. He then hold his other out, palm up, like a platform. “Would you like to come with me?”
Danny ‘his survival instincts died when he did’ Fenton gets into Alfred’s hand.
Alfred grinds up the pill into a fine powder. Danny hands him a tiny bottle—still large in Danny’s hands, as it was not a shrunk bottle—that he had tied around his waist. Alfred fills it, and hands it back.
“I assume you came from the tiny house we have in our living room?”
Danny again nods. Alfred takes him there, setting him down outside the front door. Danny bows, and sure it’s Japanese as hell, and he’s white as all get out, but it’s a generally understood gesture of thanks. He hopes.
Alfred understands it just fine. “I bid you goodnight, then. Perhaps we will talk more, when you are feeling better?”
Danny hesitates, again, but he nods. Alfred had been nice enough, so far.
Danny heads in, quickly measuring out the medicine—shrunk pressure plates and scales and weights made what it was measuring relative—to him the weights on the hand balance scale felt the same weight. Ellie got her medicine, and they both went back to sleep.
He told her in the morning what happened. Ellie was strangely gung-ho about meeting this butler guy, and so—when no one else was around—, she and Danny went onto the tiny balcony as Alfred came in to dust.
“Oh my,” he said. “There’s two of you, now. Should I expect more?”
Both of them did an exaggerated ‘no’ dance.
“Very well, I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. I’m Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#danny phantom#prompt#I’m clearing out my notes and idk if I’ll continue this but figured it worked out well for a prompt?#do as you will
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i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!
Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!
Word Count- 2k+
Summary- See request above.
Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club.
Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door.
“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking.
“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”
“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”
Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.
“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation.
“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”
You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you?
But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.
******
Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore.
You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent.
Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you.
You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror.
“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence.
“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.
Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”
That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”
He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.”
You shrugged. “Not much happened.”
“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you.
You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.
“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”
You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”
You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”
He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”
“What were they saying?”
You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look.
He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”
“It doesn’t matter–”
“It does to me,” he was quick to say.
“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.
Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”
“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”
“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.
“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”
“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.
“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.”
“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.
“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you.
Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times.
He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”
Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”
Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.
“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!”
He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.
His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”
You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.
-Tag List-
@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @charmingballoon @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms
#Benny loves a yapper#opposites attract#the bikeriders#benny cross#benny cross x reader#austin butler#benny x bunny#austin butler x reader#benny x reader#fluff#imagine#austin butler fandom#little bunny#requests
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Talking to a Brick Wall - A.H
a/n: rip erin strauss you would've hated this fic
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader
summary: in which you overhear your boyfriend aaron's phone call
warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, self-doubt, happy ending but also a terrible ending bc i SUCK at endings xoxo
wc: 2.3k
You had called out your boyfriend's name multiple times as you wandered into his house. He had asked you a while ago if you wanted to come over for a movie night tonight and hell would have to freeze over before you ever declined that offer. However, upon arrival, you were greeted by silence; no response to the doorbell, his phone, or your voice. Thankfully, the key he'd given you last year jingled in your pocket as you let yourself in.
You had a pretty strong suspicion he'd be in his office--after all, this was Aaron Hotchner, a man who definitely did not believe in leaving work at the office.
And sure enough, his voice filtered through the slightly ajar door, the rich hue of his mahogany desk framing the gap. You were about to move towards the living room, assuming he was on a work call of some sorts, but his words stopped you dead in your tracks.
"It's just... sometimes I feel like I'm speaking, but the understanding isn't there. You know what I mean? It's like the concepts just float in one ear and out the other."
You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, brows drawn together, as your hand found the wall, leaning towards the door. He couldn't have been talking about you, right?
"I try to share details, to get her involved, but it's met with this vacant nod. As if the depth of it all just doesn't register."
Oh. Her. You tried to fan away the wetness that threatened to fall down your cheeks, each rapid motion a desperate attempt to convince yourself you were imagining things.
"And I'm patient, I really am. But when you're met with that blank look, it's... disheartening. You start to wonder if it's worth explaining at all. It's like talking to a wall."
Okay, that stung. It was like an immediate punch to the gut, your heart seeming to drop into the pit of your stomach. Your shoulders slumped slightly as you tried to rationalize his words, but nothing was really making sense right now.
The internal battle was a cruel one: stay and endure the sharp sting of his words or leave and miss more of what he had to say. The latter won, pulling you away from the door.
You knew you were never going to be the smartest person in the room, and in the past, it was a source of deep-seated insecurity, always a silent specter in the corners of your mind. But then you met Aaron. And he made everything just better. His own intelligence and impressive job never became a yardstick for your worth; he ensured you knew you were more than enough, just as you were.
He had always been the voice reminding you that you were smart in your own right, telling you that your worth transcended any numerical measure of intelligence like a stupid IQ score. But now you were questioning everything.
Anger seemed like the appropriate response, right? But it was hard to be when his words carried a weight of truth to them.
You did have a hard time keeping up when he talked about the complexities of his cases, sometimes feeling like an outsider looking in. But, even if you didn't understand, his passion for what he did was infectious, and you hung on to every word when he explained all the ways his smart brain was able to deduce things about people.
Still, a part of you imagined it was hard for him, that it probably got old fast when you weren't able to hold an intelligent conversation.
Your knuckles were white against the steering wheel, and it somehow took you only ten minutes to get home when it should've taken you twenty.
It was only when you had taken a shower, put on your favorite pair of pink sweats, brought out some Ben and Jerry's, and turned on Legally Blonde, did you check your phone.
Hi honey. What time are you coming over?
You tried to ignore the sensation of an invisible band drawing tighter across your chest.
so sorry, not feeling good. rain check? xoxo
You hated lying to him. Hated lying in general, save for the occasional white lie to protect someone's feelings. The fact that you weren't lying to his face was a small mercy, because obviously he'd be able to see right through you.
Do you want me to come there? I can bring food.
You wanted to be with him, you really did, you had been counting down the days to this movie night all week. But the thought of sitting beside him, wanting to ask about his day, about his work, now seemed like an intrusion. Knowing that your well-intentioned questions might be a chore for him or a source of frustration. The realization pressed down on you, a heavy weight that threatened to snuff your light.
no that's okie! thank you though <3 i don't want to get you sick!
Your phone was ringing, his name lighting up the screen for a FaceTime call, it felt like a betrayal of your own making. It was a skill you had recently taught him (which took forever), and of course now he was using it. Your finger jabbed at the red button, your cheeks turning the same color.
i look & sound disgustinggg rn
I know for a fact that's incorrect. You have a magical talent of looking incredible no matter what.
I want to see your pretty face.
you can be so flattering when u want to mister!
im going to take some medicine & then ill call u l8, k?
Hmm, okay.
love u! xoxo
I love you too, pretty girl.
You hated this. Your eyes were puffy, swollen and wet as you discarded the phone onto the nightstand. He deserved someone who wasn't so pathetic.
You wallowed in self-pity all night, and then all day, and then all week. You went through the motions--getting up, going to work, and then making up some lame excuse when Aaron asked to see you. Name it, and you had probably said it. In reality, you had been holed up in your room, trading glossy magazine pages for confusing behavioral books.
The subject matter was as dull as dishwater, making paint-watching seem thrilling. But you were committed to bringing some depth to your next conversation with him.
Today's excuse had been some half-truths about being buried in work--which in hindsight seemed comical, given you worked at a bakery and there wasn't much that could take up your time outside of contract hours.
You were splayed across the couch in an upside-down sprawl as you attempted to focus on the scholarly gibberish that filled the pages. 'Homology,' 'dichotomy,' and 'typology' melded into a migraine-inducing blur, tempting you to slam the book shut. You were fighting every urge to throw it out the window and paint your nails with that new glittery polish you've been dying to try.
At the insistent knock, you clapped the book shut (thank god) and stood, brows knitting, as you navigated to the door with a soft scuffle of slippers on polished wood.
Flinging it open, you halted, breath caught. "Aaron? Oh, hi, what are you doing here?"
The words sprang forth before you could catch them, your hands scrambling up to smooth the evidence of your couch-induced disarray.
He fixes you a pointed stare as he steps into your apartment, invitation be damned you guess. "I find myself repeating this, yet it seems necessary--peephole first, then the door, sweetheart."
You clamp your teeth onto your lip with such force, you're convinced you've tasted blood. "Oh, right, sorry... I should've remembered."
A flicker of foolishness and a heavy dose of self-consciousness threaten to surface. However, you quickly subdue them, tucking them away as you wrapped your arms around your body, offering him a small smile. Despite everything, your heart leaps at the sight of him. You missed him.
His face softens, his touch soft as he tilts your chin upward. "Look at me. It's fine. I just want to make sure my best girl is safe, that's all."
The temptation to simply crumble there and then, to forget everything and cocoon yourself in his arms, was overwhelming.
You leaned into his hand without thinking, which now claimed the entire area of your cheek. He was always so warm.
You watch as Aaron glances around the room, no doubt noting the absence of work-related clutter. "Still working?"
"Oh, I was, I told my boss I'd help with inventory reports." That part wasn't totally a lie, but it still made your conscience squirm with guilt.
"Do you want help?"
The proposal touches a raw nerve, sparking a defensive reflex. Did he think you were incapable?
"Thanks, but I'm actually all done with them," you lie, your a smile a little too rigid as you head into the living room.
You're keenly aware of his approaching footsteps as you hastily stash that stupid book under a magazine, silently praying he didn't notice. You settle onto the couch, and he joins you, casually drawing your legs over his lap as you recline against the cushions.
"How was your day?"
You wince internally at the automatic question.
"Not too bad," He replies with an easy shrug, his fingers sneaking under your sweats at the ankles, tracing lazy circles on your calves. "We wrapped up some paperwork, had a couple of briefings, and oh, we were introduced to our new consultant today. She specializes in crypto linguistics--really fascinating stuff."
Your eyes flutter briefly, a constriction forming in your throat, a twist in your gut. The mere mention of the consultant being a she amplifies your feelings of insufficiency. It leaves you wondering, why would Aaron ever be interested in someone like you?
"Crypto linguistics?" you repeat, trying to sound curious rather than lost.
He leans in closer to you. "It's a specialized area of linguistics focused on decoding encrypted languages."
You offer a nod, managing a convincing "Yeah, of course," even as your eyes unwittingly drift away from his unwavering stare, betraying a hint of your confusion.
Aaron's hand cradles your head, his fingers sifting through your hair. "Hey," he murmurs, drawing your attention back, "what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Your chin touches your chest as you mumble, barely audible, "hardly anything."
Aaron's expression turns to a frown, his broad hands guiding your ass and thighs as he positions you atop his lap, face-to-face, leaving you exposed with no place to hide. Your name escapes him with a sigh. "I don't believe that for a second."
You match his frown with your own pout, nestling your face into his neck, concealing the rosy hue that has claimed your cheeks. "Just a rough week is all."
"Is that so?" His voice was a gentle murmur, his hands soothingly moving in gentle sweeps across your back as you breathed out unsteadily. "Funny, that's been my week too. My gorgeous girlfriend seems to have been avoiding me all week."
"Have not," you mumble, your breath warm against his skin, fingers weaving through the hair at the nape of his neck.
He hummed. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong."
"It's silly."
He guided your face back to his, eyes searching yours. "Listen to me. No, it's not. I don't like when you try to diminish your feelings. Talk to me, honey."
That was your tipping point. A wobble in your lip betrays the onset of tears as your voice breaks.
"I just--I know I'm not as smart as the people you work with or even your past girlfriends. I know I don't get things right away especially when you talk about work, and I see how everyone else is so quick, and I'm here, always a few steps behind. I know that it must be frustrating for you, and I'm scared that one day, you'll get tired of explaining, and your patience will run out, and well, you'll see... you'll see that--"
"Baby, whoa, slow down," Aaron urges, his palms tenderly framing your face, a frown plastered over his face. Your heart hammers against your chest, its rapid beats almost audible, as if it might jump from your body. "Take a deep breath, okay? Can you do that for me?"
You draw in a breath.
His thumb delicately erases the tears that have made their way down your cheek.
"When there is something about my work you don't understand, I will gladly go over it as many times as you need. I don't expect you to know everything about that stuff, why would you? That's not why I'm with you. I'm with you because of your incredibly kind heart and the way you see the best in people. I love you because you are you. What is making you think this way, honey? It's breaking my heart."
"I overheard you Aaron," you said, "saying that sometimes it feels like you're talking to a wall when you talk to me."
"What?" he questioned, but his confusion was quickly morphed into concern. "Oh, sweetheart, no. I was talking about Strauss and her lack of understanding of our fieldwork."
"Oh."
"I would never speak about you like that, you know that, right? And if, in some alternate universe, I did, you need to break up with me, or better yet, set me straight." His hands stayed firmly on your face. "You should never tolerate that from me or anyone else, understood?"
You bit down on your lip, hands resting on his shoulders as you nodded. "Yes, sir."
He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, sending fireworks to every inch of you as he mumbled against your mouth, "that's my girl."
taglist: @hotchhner
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader#aaron hotchner x bimbo reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#Spotify
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stop moving
re4r leon s. kennedy x m!reader
request: none
synopsis: After finding yourself stuck in a closet with Leon, you end up squirming just a little too much.
a/n -> i have fallen victim to the leon lover rabbit hole. ALSO. I FUCKING FRACTURED MY FINGER??? guys i almost cried when i had to write the word balls. </3 but thank you all for 1k followers! tbh i only started this acc because i liked the font when i wrote something in my drafts lmao. but still! it means a lot to me and im happy to have gotten this far!
wc -> 2.5k
cw -> thigh fucking, hiding in a closet, spit as lube, handjob (r receiving), pet names (baby x2, sweetheart x1), he's kinda possessive tbh, not beta read
This was supposed to be relatively simple: get in, figure out where the president's daughter was, save her, then get out. Sure, you've seen your fair share of weird shit — especially after the outbreak in Raccoon City, but finding out that there was a whole religion dedicated to spreading a plague for the sake of taking over the world definitely takes the cake. For now, at least.
But finding yourself cramped in a closet with Leon, surrounded by a horde of hostile cultists, also wasn't something you expected to happen throughout the entire mission.
"Stop moving so much," Leon quietly muttered from behind you just as you shifted.
"I'm not," you huffed, a bit annoyed that you had to hide in this stuffy closet, even if you knew that you'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for your partner's quick thinking. Against his words, you adjusted yourself again, trying to find a decently comfortable position. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you flush against him.
"I said, stop moving," he repeated, whispering in your ear. You held back a shudder at the feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of it, stilling completely in surprise. Just then, thunderous footsteps could be heard outside the closet; slowly, listening for any sound that might reveal where the two of you hid.
You tensed and instinctively backed up to further yourself from the perpetrator, even if there wasn't much room to move to begin with. You could faintly hear Leon grunt from behind you, but you were in no position to apologize at the moment. Your eyes were glued to a crack in the old, wooden door, watching as the light shifted when the person passed by.
You waited with bated breath, hoping that it wouldn't come near. But, like some cliche horror movie, you could see the light at the bottom of the door disappear, meaning it was far too close for comfort. With every second the person stood there, the tighter Leon's hold on your hips became. The two of you went so silent your ears rang, and you were briefly afraid that it'd hear the sound of your racing heartbeat.
But after what felt like an eternity, its heavy footsteps started up again and away from the closet. You heaved a sigh of relief when the front door slammed shut, rendering the building empty once more.
"Fucking hell, sorry," you mumbled, trying to shuffle forward and give Leon his space when you realized that he hadn't let go of you yet. "You okay?"
Using the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the door, you lifted your arms a bit and curiously peered at his hands. But that's when you noticed the black lines covering his arms. Upon closer inspection, you quickly realized that they were his veins.
"Christ, Leon, what—"
"Be quiet. Just—just for a second."
You found it hard to tear your eyes away from his arms, waiting in silence. You focused on the sound of his labored breaths, biting your tongue to keep yourself from questioning him even further. Your mind couldn't help the invasion of 'What happened?' and 'What is that?' that threatened to spill from your lips. How did you not notice this earlier?!
You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt him rest his forehead on your shoulder, muttering and grunting under his breath. And that's when you felt it — the reason why he was so reluctant to move just yet: he was hard.
"Oh." You couldn't help it, even if he had already told you to shut your mouth twice already. The silence from then on was painfully awkward as the two of you tried to figure out what to say. With a deep breath, you miraculously found the courage to speak up.
"Do you... Can I help you?" You offered, remaining still to keep yourself from accidentally pressing yourself up against him again. It was silent while you waited for his reply, embarrassment wriggling its way through your chest the longer the two of you kept quiet.
"I mean, you don't have to accept, you can just ignore me—" you began to ramble on, mortified that you even asked the question. "I just thought, cause, like, it'll be hard for you to—shit, I didn't mean it like that—"
"[Name]," Leon interrupted you, finding your instant silence charming in its own way. You could hear him take a deep breath in just as his hands slid further up to firmly caress your waist and abdomen. Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your gut when he tugged you closer to him, grinding himself against your ass. "You can."
He reached for your hand and brought it behind you, placing it directly onto his cock. You gave it a tentative squeeze, savoring the quiet grunt that came from him, feeling your confidence grow by the second. You heard the gentle jingling of his belt as he undid it just enough for you to dip your hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers.
"Not wasting a second, huh?" Amusement and lust were laced in his voice as he spoke, a quiet moan spilling from his lips soon after.
He was hot and thick in your hand, throbbing rhythmically. You swiped a finger over the tip that beaded precum, savoring the shudder that came from his body. His hips trusted up into your fist, seeking more, and you were more than happy to oblige.
With a steady pace, you moved your hand up and down, tracing the prominent veins. You felt your own cock twitch at the sound of Leon's breathy groans and sighs, but you ignored it in favor of getting him off.
"Fuuckk," he drawled out, leaning forward to press his lips on the side of your neck. "You're good at this. Makes me think you've done this typa thing before."
"No," you responded, gently rubbing the spot on the underside of the tip. "You're the only one."
"I get the special treatment?" He muttered teasingly, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be my lucky day."
He could feel his body buzzing with adrenaline as he peppered open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, untucking your shirt to slide a hand up your torso to pinch and toy with a nipple. His free hand traveled lower, slipping his cold fingertips underneath the waistband of your pants, but refused to go further than that.
You could feel his lips curl in a subtle smirk, but even as you realized he was teasing you, testing your patience, you had no intention to retaliate. Christ. The hold this man had on you. It was downright pathetic.
"God," he started, pressing his palm flat on your chest to bring you closer to him—eager for more of your touch. He let his teeth gently scrape against your skin, threatening to bite—to mark you, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't. Not right now. "I want to fuck you so bad."
His words were breathless, borderline desperate, as they left his lips. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up into your fist, pushing and pushing until your hand was flush against your ass, keeping you from jerking him off as he rutted against your hand.
"We can't, Leon," you muttered, disappointment lacing your voice. As much as you'd love to have him inside you, fucking you deep, you knew you couldn't. Not when the Ganados were still outside, at least. "Just let me finish you off."
Leon let out a low growl, knowing that you were right. There were a lot of things the two of you couldn't do inside the confined space of the closet, forcing him to conjure up ideas of what he wanted to do when all of this was over.
But for now, he settled on the second best option: your thighs.
"I know," he murmured, breathing in deeply as he pulled your hand away from his throbbing cock. "Then let me fuck your thighs. I'll be quick, I promise."
You mulled over his words, unsure if it would be a good idea.
"Please, baby," he pleaded, his voice heavy with lust. "Just this once. Then, when we find Ashley and get the hell outta this place, I'll make sure to fuck you properly. Nice 'n hard 'n deep. Wouldn't you like that?"
Fuck it.
"Mhm, yeah, go ahead." You relented, knees weakening at the thought of having his thick cock inside you, stretching and filling you up perfectly.
"Atta boy," he buried his thumbs underneath your pants and boxers, pulling them down to let them drop to your ankles. "Knew you'd come around."
He groaned at the sight of your bare thighs and drooling cock, running his hands along the curve of your ass to lean back and spread it, focusing his gaze on your asshole. "Fuck," he hissed. "Can't wait to feel your tight little hole around me later. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you mine."
Arousal sank in your stomach like a rock as your hole clenched around nothing. Whatever's coursing through his veins made him more impulsive, more desperate, but with the fog that clouded your thoughts, you hardly found it in you to mind.
He spat on his cock and moved a hand away from your body to briefly jerk himself off and smear the saliva around.
"Open up, baby," he instructed as soon as he was done, raising his hand to caress your hip. "Spread your legs a little."
Like a trained puppy, you obeyed, widening your thighs just enough to let him guide his hard cock in between them. Your breath hitched at the sight of the head peeking out, squeezing your legs around him just a bit tighter.
"Jesus fuck, [Name]," he groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Through the hazy mess that was in your mind, you found comfort in the warmth and firmness of them as you placed your hands on his forearms for some sort of stability. "That's it. Squeeze me just like that."
You could feel every twitch and throb, and you were sure he could feel yours, too. It felt like your senses were on overdrive as you listened to your labored breaths, his pleased sighs and grunts, and the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs. He set a leisurely pace, rocking his hips back and forth.
"Shit..." He hissed, speeding up his thrusts as his dick rubbed against your balls, smearing his makeshift lube across your skin.
His hips met yours with quiet slaps, making sure to keep the noise level at a minimum despite the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside you right then and there. He mouthed at the nape of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, gently pressing his teeth down hard enough to send sparks down your spine.
His fingertips pressed into your sides so firmly it hurt, but it only served to mix in with the desire that burned brightly in your belly. He fucked your thighs with a sense of urgency, as if trying to satiate a hunger deep within his subconscious—not that you minded.
He grunted and groaned with every thrust, tightening his arms around your waist to tug you back to him whenever your hips jolted forward. It was intoxicating; the way he so effortlessly turned your body into a sensitive mess left you wanting more.
But as soon as a strong hand wrapped around your aching cock, you nearly came on the spot. One of your hands left Leon's forearm to slap it over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud.
He breathily chuckled beside your ear. "Is this what you wanted?" He rhetorically questioned, swiping a finger over the leaking head so perfectly it left your skin tingling. "Tell me, sweetheart."
"Ohh, fuck," you hissed. It was embarrassing how you so eagerly responded to his touch. "Yeah, th-that's it...!"
Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of his slick cock moving in and out from between your thighs. Your lips parted from behind your hand to let out quiet pants and moans, digging your nails into his forearm the closer you got to your orgasm.
"Oh god, Leon—!" You moaned, pressing yourself further against his back. You could feel your legs faltering, but he didn't seem to mind having you rely on him to stand up.
"I know, baby, I know," he muttered, his voice tight and strained as his thrusts gradually grew sloppy and weak. "Me too."
His cock pulsed and twitched, and he can't help himself from clamping his teeth over the side of your neck this time. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it left a noticeable bite mark that dully ached.
"Come on, baby, cum for me," he instructed, and you had no choice but to comply.
With a muffled moan, you arched your back and finally came as ropes of your semen coated the dusty wooden floor and Leon's fingers. He stroked you until he was sure that you were spent before letting go to chase after his own release.
"Shit," he cursed, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna cum so... so fucking hard...!"
With a strained groan, his hips jerked erratically as he came, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. You gently rub your thighs together, helping him ride out his high. It wasn't until a few moments later did he finally stop, breathing hard against your neck as he calmed down. But that's also when the clarity kicked in.
"Oh, fuck," he muttered, moving his head from you. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened—I just—" he apologized, sighing in defeat a moment later.
"It's fine," you replied, patting his arm. You had to suppress a shudder when he pulled away from your thighs. The cum that ended up on the insides of them quickly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sensation on your skin. You were just gonna have to suck it up.
"Let's just get outta here, already." You shuffled forward a bit to tug your pants back up your legs while Leon composed himself.
"Yeah," he said, pressing an arm against the dusty, wooden door. Through the dim light, you could see that his veins were no longer visible again, but that thought was going to have to hold off until later. "You ready?"
"Yup." You nodded after briefly making sure you still had everything in place.
Without further thought about what happened just a few seconds ago, Leon pushed the door open and quickly left the closet as you trailed close behind. Now, it was back to work.
#reader insert#male reader#reader smut#male reader insert#reader#male reader smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x male reader#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy smut#x male reader smut#x reader smut#x reader#x male reader#resident evil x reader#resident evil x male reader#x bottom male reader#x sub male reader#top character#dom character#gay
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Can you please write something with Aitana based on the video of her saying “fan number one?” and “you work or not work?”
Hiiii - so I used the dialogue in a way that I don't think I've seen other people use - I didn't want to make it too samey. This is inspired by how hot it was here for a little bit during the summer. Also, sidenote - next weeks post will be out on the Saturday rather than the Friday because of the football/international break. I hope you enjoy <3<3<3
Heat
Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
Description: The heat is getting to everyone in Barcelona
Word Count: 3.5k
One thing you loved about Barcelona was the heat. Coming from England, sunshine was a rarity, and sunshine that was actually warm was a precious commodity that you cherished. You could often be found dozing away in the sunlight, curled up like a cat absorbing the golden rays as you napped your free hours away. The warmth soaked into your skin, loosening the knots of tension that had become second nature in the grey, drizzly days back home. It was as if the sun in Barcelona had a different quality, something richer, more generous, wrapping you in a golden embrace that you had never known in England.
It was something you and your girlfriend had in common. Aitana was as much a sunworshipper as you were, perhaps even more so. Raised in the heart of Catalonia, she had grown up with the sun as a constant companion, and she revelled in its warmth with a kind of effortless grace that you admired. While you had learned to cherish the sun’s rare appearances in your life, for Aitana, it was a way of life. She would often tease you about how you could fall asleep anywhere as long as the sun was shining, but the truth was, she was no different.
The two of you had a ritual – every off-day, when you finally had time to relish in the sunshine to your heart’s content, you would pack a small bag with some snacks, a blanket, and a book or two, and head out to one of Barcelona’s many parks. Sometimes it was the sprawling greenery of Parc de la Ciutadella, with its majestic fountain and shaded pathways. Other times, you preferred the more secluded spots, like the hidden corners of Montjuïc, where the trees provided just enough shade to keep the heat bearable, but still allowed the sunlight to filter through.
You’d find a spot, lay down the blanket, and spend hours just basking in the warmth. Aitana would stretch out beside you, her hand always finding yours as you both soaked in the sun. There was something so simple, so pure, about those moments. The world would fade away, and it would be just the two of you, cocooned in a bubble of warmth and contentment. Sometimes you’d talk, sharing dreams and stories, your voices mingling with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. Other times, you’d fall into a comfortable silence, letting the sun do all the talking.
But one thing you hated about Barcelona was also the heat. You weren’t used to it. The relentless sun that you had once welcomed with open arms quickly became an overbearing force, pressing down on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were perpetually walking through a furnace. You found yourself sticky, sweaty, and hot far too often for your liking. The sweat would bead on your forehead, trickle down your back, and make your clothes cling uncomfortably to your skin. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in the heat, the suffocating temperatures wrapping around you like an unwanted blanket.
This was where you and Aitana differed. She relished in the heat. The intensity that overwhelmed you seemed to invigorate her. Where you saw oppressive warmth, she saw life brimming with energy. Aitana would thrive under the sun’s unyielding rays, her skin glowing, her movements light and carefree. She seemed to draw strength from the very heat that left you seeking refuge.
On those days when the sun blazed down mercilessly, you’d find her with an easy smile on her face, wandering the streets of the city as if the heat were a friend she was catching up with after a long absence. While you sought anywhere with cooler air, she would coax you back into the light, playfully insisting that a little more sun wouldn’t do you any harm. Sometimes, she’d lead you to the beach, where she would dive into the cool Mediterranean waters with a laugh, emerging refreshed and radiant. You’d follow, grateful for the temporary relief, but always aware that as soon as you left the water, the heat would be waiting for you again.
Yet, despite the discomfort, there was something about the way Aitana embraced the heat that made it bearable for you, even on the worst days. Her joy was infectious, her love for the sun a reminder of why you had fallen in love with Barcelona in the first place. She had a way of making you forget the sweat trickling down your back, or the way your clothes clung to your skin. Instead, she made you focus on the beauty around you – the vibrant colours of the city, the scent of blooming flowers, the laughter of children playing in the fountains.
Barça knew all about your conundrum surrounding the heat. It was a running joke among your teammates, how the sunlight and heat seemed to be locked in an eternal duel, yet somehow always managed to work together to make your life both blissful and unbearable. Sunlight often battled with the heat, but they were a bonded pair—you couldn’t have one without the other, much like they would find you trailing close behind Aitana as she traipsed around the city. The team would rib you about it in the locker room, laughing as they imagined you wilting under the sun's rays, while Aitana, always vibrant, led the way through the bustling streets of Barcelona.
It had become something of a ritual for the team to watch you struggle with the heat during training sessions. The mid-afternoon sun would hang high in the sky, relentless and unforgiving, as you ran drills on the pitch. While your teammates seemed to have adjusted to the searing temperatures, you were still caught in a love-hate relationship with the heat. You’d catch them grinning as you wiped the sweat from your brow, the back of your shirt clinging to your skin, while they effortlessly powered through the drills.
This wasn’t usually a problem—the gym was air-conditioned to a frigid temperature, offering a welcome reprieve from the sweltering outdoors. The cool blast of air that greeted you as you stepped inside was a small but cherished comfort. The staff, always attentive, kept extra ice packs and cold towels on hand, ready to pass them your way during particularly grueling sessions. They had come to expect your need for these little luxuries, and you had become something of a connoisseur of the best ways to beat the heat.
You were usually the first to dive into the ice baths, even when it wasn’t on your designated recovery schedule. The shock of the cold water was intense, but it was also the quickest way to bring your body temperature down from the brink of boiling over. You’d sink into the icy depths with a sigh of relief, feeling the cold seep into your muscles, soothing the burn from hours spent under the relentless sun. The other players would laugh and shake their heads, knowing you’d be there long before any of them even considered it.
Yet, despite all the precautions, the heat had a way of creeping back into your bones the moment you stepped outside. The contrast between the chill of the gym and the furnace waiting outside always caught you off guard, no matter how many times you experienced it. It was as if the sun, sensing your brief escape, redoubled its efforts to remind you who was in charge. The walk from the training facility back to your car felt like a marathon, the heat radiating up from the pavement, wrapping around you like an oppressive cloak.
Your teammates often teased you about this too, their voices carrying over the sound of cleats on concrete as they watched you dart from one patch of shade to the next. “Careful, chica, you might melt before you get to the car!” they’d joke, their laughter ringing out in the sun-drenched parking lot. But it was all in good fun, and you’d laugh along with them, shaking your head as you fumbled with your keys, already looking forward to the sanctuary of the air-conditioned interior.
While the heat was your enemy, you knew how to combat it. You had your routines, your strategies, your little comforts that made the relentless sun bearable. Until the day the air-con broke.
It had been on its last legs for a while now, the fan making a strange clanking noise that echoed through the gym like a ticking time bomb. You and your teammates had joked about it, but there was an unspoken understanding that the day it finally gave out would be a disaster. The unit had a habit of cutting out at random intervals, plunging the gym into a suffocating stillness until someone managed to coax it back to life with a few well-placed taps. But this time, it was different.
It was a scorching afternoon, the kind where the heat seemed to seep into everything, turning the city into an oven. The air outside shimmered with intensity, and stepping into the gym usually felt like a sweet relief. But not today. The moment you pushed open the door, you were hit by a wall of stifling air, thick and heavy, clinging to your skin like a wet blanket. The usual blast of cool air was conspicuously absent, and instead, the gym felt like an extension of the inferno outside.
You exchanged a glance with Aitana, the dread setting in as the reality of the situation sunk in. The air-con was dead – really dead this time. The fan was silent, the strange clanking noise gone, but not in the way you’d hoped. There was no more coaxing it back to life. The temperature inside the gym was already climbing, the walls seeming to radiate heat that had nowhere to escape.
“Oh, amor meu,” Aitana sighed, already dreading the moans that would be coming her way throughout the session. She looked at you wearily as your studied the machine forlornly.
“Maybe … maybe someone can fix it?” you looked up at her hopefully, eyes pleading innocently.
“I’m sure they’ll get a maintenance guy in,” she smiled at you. Aitana's smile was both reassuring and sympathetic, but you could see the glint of amusement in her eyes. She knew exactly how much you dreaded the heat, especially in a place where you had come to rely on the cool, controlled environment of the gym. Still, she tried to offer some comfort, even as the oppressive warmth started to settle around you both like an unwelcome blanket. “They’ll have someone here in no time,” she added, her tone light, though the sweat already beading on her forehead betrayed the discomfort you were both feeling. “Until then, we’ll just have to power through, won’t we?”
You nodded, trying to muster up the same optimism, but the thought of spending the next couple of hours in a gym with no air-con made you want to run back to the car and crank up the AC instead. Aitana, always the more resilient of the two of you when it came to the heat, took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, silently urging you to tough it out.
“Come on,” she said, leading the way to the changing rooms. “We’ll get through this together.”
You did not get through it together. You struggled limply through your workouts - refusing to do the optional extra reps and keeping the weights light. As you looked around the room, it seemed like you were the only one grappling with the oppressive heat.
The native Spanish players, their bodies accustomed to the relentless Barcelona sun, appeared to breeze through their routines. Alexia and Mapí chatted amiably through their sets, the heat barely registering on their relaxed faces. Irene and Marta, both seasoned in navigating the city's sweltering conditions, moved with their usual ease, seemingly unaffected as the temperature in the gym climbed higher. Cata, Pina, Patri, and Vicky handled the heat with a nonchalant grace. Even the Scandinavian players, usually the first to wilt under the sun, seemed to be faring better. Ingrid had her hair neatly tied up in a bun, but otherwise, the heat seemed to have minimal impact on her or her teammates.
Frido and Esmee were sharing jokes, their laughter ringing out above the hum of the equipment. Caro, in her typical fashion, was methodically stacking more and more weights onto her machines, her focus unwavering despite the stifling conditions.
It was then that you noticed Keira. She was the only one who seemed to be struggling as visibly as you were. Maybe it was because you both shared an English background, and despite years on the team, you were still not fully acclimated to the heat. Keira, with her freckled skin and usually upbeat demeanour, looked as if she was fighting a losing battle against the oppressive warmth. Her movements were slower, her breaths more laboured, and her usual efficiency in the gym was replaced by a noticeable struggle.
You caught her eye across the room, and she gave you a small, weary smile – a silent acknowledgment of your shared plight. There was something comforting in seeing someone else feeling as drained and overheated as you were. It was a rare moment of camaraderie amidst the collective struggle.
Aitana had left your side a while ago, a subtle sign she was over your complaints about the heat. You felt a little put out by it, but you understood. You knew you could grumble until the cows came home if it felt justified, and though her patience had worn thin, you couldn’t blame her for needing a break from the relentless whining.
You watched as she rejoined the rest of the team, seamlessly slipping back into the rhythm of the workout as if the heat was a minor inconvenience rather than the oppressive force it felt like to you. Her movements were fluid, and her energy seemed unshaken by the sweltering conditions that had left you feeling utterly drained.
As she chatted with her teammates, her laughter cut through the dense air, a reminder of how effortlessly some seemed to adapt. You took a moment to let your frustration settle. Deep down, you knew you were being unreasonable – Aitana had been more than supportive, and her patience had to be running thin after weeks of listening to you moan about the heat.
With a sigh, you decided to focus on finishing your workout. You adjusted your weights and forced yourself to push through the remaining sets. Each rep felt like a small victory against the heat’s oppressive grip. Even if you couldn’t match the others in performance, you could at least maintain your commitment.
By the end of the session, you were thoroughly exhausted, but you felt a slight sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t about setting records or impressing anyone; it was about getting through it, even when it felt nearly impossible.
Your self-imposed silence meant you had finished your workout a lot earlier than the others. You flopped onto the floor, letting the coolness of the mat seep into your skin. The contrast between the refreshing chill of the floor and the relentless heat you’d been battling was a welcome relief, even if it was fleeting.
As you lay there, catching your breath and trying to cool down, you watched the remaining teammates still at work. Their movements were fluid, a testament to their adaptation to the heat, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy mixed with admiration. The intensity of their focus and the ease with which they handled the oppressive warmth was something you hoped to emulate someday.
Minutes ticked by as you lay there, taking in the quiet hum of the gym’s remaining equipment. The distant sounds of grunts and the rhythmic thud of weights being lifted became a soothing backdrop to your respite. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a few moments of stillness and gratitude for the rare, cool touch of the mat beneath you. You let your mind drift away to icy places; Antarctica and the penguins, the walk-in freezer in the physio rooms, England in the winter.
Someone cleared their throat above you. You cracked one eye open to see Aitana standing with her arms crossed, a scowl gracing her usually smiling features.
“You work or not work?” she asked, unimpressed at your supposed slacking.
“I work, thank you very much, Tana. I’ve just finished,” you said offended at her implications. You sat up, matching her scowl and raising and eyebrow at her. “Just ‘cos I’m not used to the heat doesn’t mean that I’ll slack off.”
Aitana’s eyes softened just a touch, though she kept her arms crossed, her posture still radiating a mix of concern and frustration. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were slacking off. It’s just… you looked like you were resting more than working. And you know how important it is to keep up the intensity, especially when we’re all pushing hard.”
“Yeah, I do know that Aitana. It’s all anyone ever reminds me off whenever I take an extra water break or need a sit down because I think I’m going to faint in the heat.” You huffed, standing up and snatching your water bottle from the floor. “I’ll see you at home.” You snapped as you walked out of the gym.
You knew you were just angry because of the heat. It had a way of getting to you. Aitana was a cuddler, much like you were, but in the heat of the summer, you couldn’t stand to be near her, much less sleeping wrapped around each other like you usually did. It resulted in a sleep-deprived, touch-starved you trying to go about their normal day and push themselves further with the increased intensity of the season.
As you walked out of the gym, the late afternoon sun blazed down with an intensity that only made your frustration worse. Each step felt like wading through a hot, sticky swamp, and the city’s noise blended with the oppressive heat, making it hard to think straight. You tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, knowing that the anger you felt was partly a result of the sweltering weather and not just Aitana’s well-meaning but poorly timed comment.
Once you reached your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and slumped onto the couch. The coolness of the indoor air was a brief but welcome respite from the heat outside, though it wasn’t enough to fully ease the agitation that had built up inside you. The usual comfort of being home felt diminished by the weight of the day’s frustrations.
You tried to calm yourself by closing your eyes and taking deep breaths, reminding yourself that Aitana’s intentions were good. She was trying to help, but the heat had made everything seem more intense, including the way you reacted to her. You knew that the combination of exhaustion, heat, and the pressure to keep up was making you more irritable than usual.
You must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were being woken up by a blast of icy air. You jolted slightly, not used to the coolness on your skin. For a moment, you were disoriented, blinking at the sudden chill that seemed to sweep over you.
As your senses returned, you saw Aitana standing beside you, holding a small handheld fan in her hands and adjusting the settings with a satisfied smile. The cool air that had stirred you was now filling the room, making the previously stifling atmosphere feel refreshingly crisp.
“Bona tarda, amor meu,” Aitana said softly, her tone laced with affection.
“Hi, Tana,” you smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you that was as comforting as the cool breeze.
“I thought you might appreciate a little cool relief after the heat of the day.” You sighed, relief flooding your body as you felt yourself cool down.
“Thank you, baby,” you said, shifting to sit up and lean against her. You didn’t recognise the fan – small, white, with red and blue stripes clearly hand-coloured, and a large number 1 printed on the side.
“Fan number one?” you guessed, your lips curving into a playful smile.
“Exactly!” Aitana laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And fan number two.” She reached behind her and produced an identical fan, its stripes and number 2 matching the first one perfectly.
Aitana grinned and settled beside you, aiming one of the small devices in her direction. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” you said quietly, not wanting to break the peace.
“And I’m sorry I implied you were slacking.” Aitana’s smile softened as she reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm. “We both let the heat get to us. It’s been a tough few days, and I guess we both needed to cool off a bit, in more ways than one.
“I love you, Tana.” You sighed, feeling your eyes slip shut.
“T'estimo, amor meu.” You felt Aitana place a feather light kiss to your hair.
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So I've been seeing some discourse around the No Fly List leak that looks a bit like "hey everybody, we can't make jokes about this, the list is racist and there are children on the list" or "if you're talking about identity categories instead of the list you're missing the point" and I think that we CAN make jokes about a trans bi lesbian catgirl owning the US government while also appreciating the gravity of the No Fly List but what I think is troubling to me is the way that these discourse posts are treating the blatant racism and inherently fascist nature of the No Fly List as news.
It is news that Maia Arson Crimew was able to download a copy of the No Fly List from an unsecured public server.
It is not news that there are 1.5 million people on that list, many of whom do not belong on it for any number of reasons, and it is not news that there are children on that list, and it is not news that the list is a tool used to deprive people of their civil liberties. That's why the list exists.
I'm aware that I'm getting older. I'm aware that there are entire adults of legal drinking age who were born after 9/11. I'm aware that it's not super common to follow up on foreign policy or national security debacles from when you were in kindergarten, but there are people who have been mad about this shit for twenty years and if you're just now hearing about how bad the list is for the first time, hell, maybe that's on us and we haven't been yelling enough (though when I'm yelling about how the TSA is security theater meant to make us accept encroachments on our rights, this is at least a part of what I'm yelling about).
The No Fly List is a list of individuals maintained by the TSA who are deemed a threat to security for some reason or another.
The TSA maintains the list, though they are given information for the list from the FBI, Terrorism Screening Center, and other entities. If you'd like to click this document, you can find 250 pages of FOIA'd documents about the No Fly List pre 2006. Much of this document is members of the FBI trying to justify why they need a copy of the list and lamenting that airlines have a copy of the list and they don't. This is very funny.
There have been issues with mis-identifications and false positives for the list for as long as the list has existed. You can click here to read through an infuriating 200 pages about a Pfizer employee who was stopped at least a dozen times at airports and who retained a law firm to hound the TSA/CBP/ICE clusterfuck of interagency buck-passing for nine months to try to get the problem resolved. One of the three documents at this link includes a complaint from the president of the Terrorist Screening Center lamenting the way that the TSA would refer obvious non-matches to be detained, including infants and the elderly.
At this point, the FBI/TSA/TSC/ICE/CBP claimed list was still relatively small, in the low thousands at most.
However a 2009 cost-benefit report by the Defense Technical Information Center found that in 2004-2005 30,000 people contacted the TSA to have their names removed from the list; 30k false positives suggests a list somewhat longer than a thousand names.
As long as the No Fly List has existed, criteria for being placed on the list has been subjective and selectively enforced.
As the Crimew leak shows, there isn't a tremendous amount of biographical data, but there are hundreds of thousands of names and it is enforced at the discretion of the TSA in each individual airport in the US, which is how you end up with duplicates and toddlers and 100-year-old men on what is functionally a filter to keep Muslim people out of the US.
The list has expanded every year that it has existed, and has been defended by republicans and democrats alike since it became one of the tools in our arsenal to fight "the war on terror"
And for just about that long, people have been talking about how it is unconstitutional, denies civil liberties, and also just doesn't really work.
It has never been transparent, it has always been a tool of surveillance, exclusion, and control:
And people have been documenting, protesting, and suing over the islamophobic nature of the list - and the security state's weaponization of the list as a threat - for two decades at this point because in the earliest days of the No Fly List it was OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGED that it was based on racial profiling and people made (shitty, cruel) legal arguments for why it should be:
THIS isn't funny. These are not the things that people are joking about when they choose to stay silly :3 in this conversation.
But these things also aren't news. Nearly everything I screencapped here was listed as a source on Wikipedia, and what wasn't was available as simple searches on Archive.Org or easily looked up on news websites.
All you have to do is just *look* at the sources on Wikipedia to see that people actually have been talking about it for quite a long time, very publicly, and that there has been a lot of public outcry about the list as it balloons and punishes innocent people with false positives:
And when you've been looking at stories like these for twenty fucking years it feels wonderful to say "holy fucking bingle" and celebrate that for once someone did something VERY COOL in order to shine a light on this massive (and apparently underappreciated problem).
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always
summary - you and harry finally say those three words
pairing - actress!reader x harry
word count - ~1.5k
💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗 💐🌷☀️💗
It was the Oscar’s after party at Vanity Fair and you were a little tipsy.
A happy drunk, some may say.
Just tipsy enough to be able to giggle at everything, but to also still have your entire wits about you. Your boyfriend on your arm was exactly the same. It was lucky neither of you were the designated driver.
“It was nice seeing you!” You politely waved off two people you would not mind never seeing again.
After they were gone, Harry clearly had the same opinion as you.
“Knobheads.” He muttered close to your ear, so no one with a camera could even pick up what he was saying.
“That’s Hollywood, my love.”
“Yeah, but they could have been slightly more discreet about only liking your recent film because you were topless for a small scene.” He huffed.
You looked up at him, filtering out every other star-studded celebrity in the room.
“They were two white old men, what did you expect?”
“Some respect.”
“At least I’ll always have you for that.” You cupped his cheek and his frown melted away. The soft touch of your skin against his was enough to coax back the smile that had been missing on his face.
Harry continued to look at you as you looked at him.
You couldn’t help but give off a blush and a nervous smile as you watched his gaze upon yours. “What?”
“Nothing,” He tried to bite back a ridiculous grin, “Just like that word.”
“What word?” You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Always.”
You thought back to what you’d just said and you ducked your head to hide the nervous smile widen, docking your forehead onto his chest.
You felt Harry’s chest rise and fall with a chuckle and you wrapped your arms around him to conceal all that happiness between just you two.
It was moments like this when you wanted to lean up and whisper those three words. The three words that apparently change everything. You’d never spoken them to anyone, like this, before so it was difficult to know how to even say them.
You were certain of one thing though. Even though you’d only been together for less than half a year, you’d never felt like this for anyone before. And sometimes you felt like Harry was the same.
You were certain that you loved Harry.
It was only a matter of how to tell him.
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
An hour later and you found yourself at the front of the photo booth queue.
Harry had been doing his rounds, saying hello to friendly faces such as Billie and Florence.
You had done your rounds, as well as take non-negotiable photos with your cast mates for one final hurrah.
Even though your movie hadn’t swept at the Oscar’s this year, you were just happy to have been a part of it. Creating movies and bringing stories to life is more than you could ever have dreamed of. Plus, you always had Harry’s hand to hold through it all now - which made it easier.
Harry was in fact holding your hand now.
As Barry and Sabrina walked out of the booth, lipstick smudged all over Barry’s smirking lips, Harry squeezed your hand to signal you were next.
Harry held back the curtain for you, but you waited for him to sit down first.
There was a bench that could fit at least four people on it, but you and Harry had pre-discussed what your photos would be (whilst waiting in the queue) and you’d both agreed that you sitting on his lap was the only way.
The “only way” being Harry’s words…
Not that you minded.
“Only photobooth where you don’t have to pay.” You commented, as you situated yourself sideaways on Harry’s lap.
Your arms slunk across his shoulders for support and his arm wrapped securely around your waist.
You moved slightly to get more comfortable on Harry’s thighs.
“Stop wriggling.” He grunted, making you instantly stop.
“Wh… Oh… Oh, Babe! You’re so….” You laughed at him.
“Hey, you’re not the one who has to go back out there with an obvious issue.”
“Doesn’t have to be an issue…” You attempted your best seductive whisper, but ended up bursting out giggling at the end.
“I hate you.”
You shut up, but his words had you thinking about the hidden meaning. He clearly didn’t hate you, that much was quite visibly obvious, so did he technically mean the opposite? Did he actually mean he lo–
“Y/N/N?” Your nickname being spoken brought you away from your thoughts, “You ready?”
You cleared your throat and approved.
The camera counted down…
The first photo would be of you and Harry simply smiling at the camera, faces leaning against each other.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
You quickly moved yourselves for the next photo.
The second photo was of Harry kissing your cheek, whilst you made whatever face you wanted to. You decided to scrunch your eyes and smile like an idiot - because that’s how it felt to be in love.
3. 2. 1.
*snap*
In love.
That’s what you were.
You were insanely in love with Harry and he deserved to know. You deserved to share this love.
“Love?” Harry quickly reminded you off the next photo quickly approaching.
It was meant to be of you now kissing Harry’s cheek and him doing whatever he wanted, but now you wanted to do something else.
You cupped the far side of his cheek gently and leant your lips against his ear.
3.
“Y/N?”
2.
“I love you.”
1.
*snap*
Harry quickly turned his head towards you, nearly knocking your nose off in the process.
“What?” He had tiny pools of water collecting in his eyes.
“I love you.” You smiled warmly, softly rubbing over his cheek.
“Fuck.” He smiled, letting a tear fall.
3.
“I love you, too.” He said.
2.
“So much.” He cupped your cheek.
1.
And he kissed you with so much force.
*snap*
You almost fell back with how much he pushed into you, but that’s what kissing him felt like anyway - free falling.
Saying three words had never felt so explosive.
It was like a confetti cannon had been set off and the confetti was all your love for each other being scattered around the photo booth. You felt full and happy, and you could tell by Harry’s kiss that he felt exactly the same.
You pulled back, licking your lips and trying your best not to cry in case it ruined your makeup.
Harry didn’t care, he let some tears fall.
You brushed them away carefully with your thumbs.
“Those better be happy tears and not tears of instant regret.” You joked.
“Happy falls a bit flat of describing how I feel right now, love.”
You giggled and pushed yourself back onto his lips, kissing him to let those three words sink in more.
He moved back, needing to take you in, in this moment, before giving you a few smaller kisses.
“We should go.” You whispered.
“No.” Harry pouted.
“H, this is a photo booth not a kissing booth.”
He laughed, “Okay.”
You both got up to leave, pushing the curtain away and taking the little strip of photos from the deposit on the side of the booth.
Two had printed.
You both laughed at the one where you’d spoken those little words, because Harry’s facial expressions were so funny. He looked a mixture of shocked and happy all at once.
Harry tucked the photo strip into the inside pocket on his suit jacket, whilst you kept a tight grip on yours.
You held onto Harry’s hand and hugged onto his arm.
“That was a better moment than any Oscar award.” You honestly spoke.
Harry leant down to kiss your forehead.
“I love you.” He looked genuinely excited to be able to say that to you. “And I’m proud of you.”
“I know.”
“Oi, don’t you Star wars me!” He mocked. “Say it, or else.”
“I looooovvee you.” You teased out the word. Harry shook his head at you for being so annoying, but also he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Those three words belonged to him now as they belonged to you. And always will.
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