#it makes The Moment that much more satisfying to me

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2

Part 1(?)

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main.

---

Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.

That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.

They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.

Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.

They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.

However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.

He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.

"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"

Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.

"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.

There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.

Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.

After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)

"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.

"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."

"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?

"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.

"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.

"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.

What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.

He decided to change the subject instead.

Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.

As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.

"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."

Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."

Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.

Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"

Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."

Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."

However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."

The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.

Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.

"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.

Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.

…

As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.

Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.

He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"

Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"

"What?" Jason frowned.

"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.

Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.

Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)

[authorhjk1]

Lewd thought of snsd otp 9 with mommy femdom kinks please

Taeyeon

Taeyeon is a gentle mommy. As long as you do your best to satisfy her, there aren't really any downsides to it. She can get a bit demanding sometimes, but she cares about you as well. She makes sure that you cum inside, everytime she fucks you. When she only lets you eat her pussy, she always gives positive encouragement, sometimes a compliment here and there. Taeyeon doesn't like to punish you, but when she feels it's necessary, be prepared for her to ride and drain you, until you're a whimpering mess, unable to move, while she keeps going.

Jessica

Jessica is similar to Taeyeon. Or at least that's what she wants you to think. She gaslights you into believing all sorts of stuff. As long as you satisfy her, she won't be mad. And she always tells you it feels way better when she has an orgasm. For the both of you. Your release isn't as important. Whenever Jessica just uses you, until you break, she cups your cheek with one hand, while she rides you, her tone soothing and caring.

Sunny

"Don't listen to your mind, baby. You can take more, trust me. Just make mommy cum and you'll know how good it really can feel."

While Sunny acts cold most of the time, she still like to be worshipped. She enjoys it so much, when you start to beg for sex. She makes you wait, until she herself can't hold back anymore. But once she starts, everyone will see whom you belong to. The day after, your neck, is marked with hickies. Your cheek is still slightly red from where she slapped you a little too hard. And your lip finally stopped bleeding after she bit down on it too hard, while she was climaxing.

Sunny liked to use you and she doesn't really care if she brakes you in the process.

Tiffany

Despite popular belief, Tiffany isn't soft or caring at all. She always looks sweet and innocent, not able to hurt a fly. And often, you're the one in charge in and outside the bedroom. But when Tiffany comes back home after traveling, or when another woman looks at you a little too long, she turns bad. She keeps you awake the whole night, reminding you of whom you really belong to. Tiffany often likes to tie you up. To the bedposts, or the table, or the chair. And then she rides you, plays with you, hurts you, until only her name leaves your lips.

Hyoyeon

Hyoyeon likes to toy with you, when you're blind. A blindfold, a tie, or even just putting a pillow on your face. Whatever it is that makes you vulnerable. You flinch whenever she suddenly touches you, not knowing what's going to happen next. Sometimes she just lets her fingers roam your body, or she uses ice cubes. Occasionally she even uses candles. Everytime she puts something over your eyes, your as excited as you're scared. She might suck your cock in one moment and let hot wax fall on your naked skin in the next.

Yuri

Yuri likes to watch you. She makes you sit on the bed, while she sits in a chair in front of you.

"Cum for me."

She would look at you with a cold gaze, watching how you admire her fully clothed body. You're not aloud to see her naked yet. When you finally cum, chest heaving heavily, Yuri stands up. She walks up to you and sits down on the edge of the bed.

"Again."

She makes you cum, until she is satisfied. Once you're completely drained, she strips in front of you.

"Now, make me cum as often as you just came."

Sooyoung

Sooyoung likes to put you in your place. Usually with words, even in public. But with with actions as well. Sometimes it's just something casual. When the two of you leave a restaurant: "Let's go, boy toy." Or when she is horny in the morning and already straddled you, before you're even fully awake: "Good morning, hot stuff."

But Sooyoung likes to make use of the saying "actions speak louder than words". That's why calling you names isn't enough for her. Sooyoung is a squirter. And she loves to cum all over your face, showing you that you're hers and your place is at her pussy, eating her out, until her juices drench your face.

Yoona

Yoona can switch it up really fast. One moment she is loving and caring. And the next she wraps her hands around your throat, ordering you to make her cum right then, on the spot. And there is no middle ground either. She likes it when you get a little rough too, but usually, you pay the price for that later.

Most of your days start with gentle kisses. A smile here, a laugh there. And then Yoona rolls herself on top of you. Giving you even more kisses. Eventually she reaches your crotch. Your eyes fall shut again, when she works your cock. But before you can cum, Yoona is suddenly sitting on top of you. Both hands on your throat as she lowers herself onto you.

"Be a good toy. Don't cum until I give you permission."

Seohyun

Seohyun likes to show you off, while acting cute and innocent and loving in public. Whenever someone points out a hicky, she acts all shy, embarrassed that someone might think she isn't all that innocent.

But as soon as the two of you are alone, Seohyun let's go of the good girl facade. She tells you how it turns her on that people think she is innocent, but in reality, she is making you scream her name every day. In public, she always gives you the sweetest smiles. And in the bedroom, her smiles are dark and drenched with lust.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 14

True to Lena's plan, while the paparazzi on site hounds them for information on Kara, the rest of the world is too taken by the new song to speculate much on who Lena's *current* beau is.

Kara proves to be little more than an escort, following Lena from event to interview to even a hospital to visit the childrens ward. Even so, Kara doesn't mind. She has no thirst for the spotlight at her age, and is content to let Lena be front and center.

At the hospital, however, as she's lurking out of sight from the press cameras (legitimate press, looking for staged candids for the hospital's future use), Kara feels a tug on the hem of her shirt. Looking down, a frail little girl trailing a tattered blanket stares up at her.

"Can you read me a story?"

Without hesitation, Kara reaches for the girl's hand, and they manage to find a relatively isolated corner to huddle in. With a skinny children's book in her hand and the little girl tucked against her side, Kara reads aloud in a low voice, doing her best not to draw attention to herself.

Her efforts are for naught. When she glances up towards the final pages of the book, Lena's gaze is locked upon her, her gaze warm with something indecipherable. Upon being caught staring, she smiles, and cocks an eyebrow to check in. Kara nods, and Lena, satisfied, returns to the gaggle of kids crowded in around her for photos.

Lena is wrangled into a standing meeting with her mother once the children are returned to their nurses and caretakers, leaving Kara to linger on the periphery. To her surprise, Jess is the first to approach.

"Hi!" Jess chirps softly. "Lena has a few friends in town, and they want to take her out tonight before we fly out tomorrow."

Kara's eyebrows lift. "Okay...."

Jess leans in conspiratorially. "My guess is she'll invite you, but by out I mean clubs, bottle service, etc."

At that, realization dawns. "Ah. Thanks for the warning."

She won't mind declining, or spending an evening alone, especially in Paris. As eager to spend as much time with Lena as possible, she's loathe to infringe on Lena's time with friends--

"I don't suppose you brought anything.... appropriate?" Jess continues. "For the club, I mean."

Kara blinks, then barks a laugh. "Hah, no."

Jess nods, grinning. "Thought as much. I can pick up a few options for you, if you'd like..."

After a moment's consideration, Kara nods, smile growing on her face. "I'd appreciate that, thank you."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all! It'll be in your room by the time you get back this evening--"

"Jess?" Kara cuts in, a thought occuring to her. "Could you also pick up some workout gear for me? And maybe... keep all of it a surprise?"

The young woman brightens. "Sure-- do you prefer looser clothes, or more form fitting."

"Tight on the bottom, loose on top, if you can mange it?"

Jess makes a note on her phone, nodding. "Got it." She winks. "We'll put the rack directly in your suite."

"Thank you, Jess, truly."

"Oh," Jess grins, "it's my pleasure."

----

Lena approaches her shortly after, head tilted with an imminent check-in. "Doing okay?"

Kara nods. "Of course. Jess has been taking good care of me."

"Good," Lena purrs. She leans against Kara's chest, kissing her languidly. "I have a question for you."

Guessing it has something to do with the information Jess had imparted early, Kara feigns curiosity. "Uh huh?"

"I'm planning to go out with some friends tonight. Would you.... want to come?"

Kara acts out a thorough consideration of the prospect. In the end, she hedges. "Can I think about it?"

Lena nods. "Of course. And no worries if you'd prefer to take advantage of the time alone. I know this week has been..."

"Wonderful," Kara fills in, bringing a smile to Lena's face.

"Yes," she agrees, "but also a lot. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to decompress."

With a nod, Kara leans in and kisses her again. "I appreciate that."

---

Lena's day continues until well into the evening, with the final interview wrapping up just before nine. Only the thought of seeing Lena in a new environment, with people who were not her mother, keeps Kara from groaning at the thought that the night was really only just beginning.

They split upon returning to the hotel penthouse, intent on refreshing with their own showers. When she steps out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her, Kara makes her way to the rolling rack of clothes standing next to the closet.

She bypasses the workout clothes, noting only that Jess had fulfilled her request to a tee. The other half of the rack takes more consideration. Hanger after hanger displays dress after dress, all short, all glitzy. Lifting one of the hangars, Kara holds it against herself in front of the mirror, studiously regarding the figure staring back at her.

This is going to be interesting, she thinks to herself. Then she grins. No, this is going to be *fun*.

An hour later, Kara's putting on her shoes when she hears a soft knock on the door joining her suite with Lena's. "It's open," she calls.

"Hey," Lena issues quietly as she edges into the room. "Just checking in, have you made a decision about..."

Lena's words fall away as Kara rises from the edge of the bed, pulling herself up to her full height-- plus another four inch heels now strapped to her feet. Her hair is loose around her shoulders in waves that glint in the light, and her dress is short and layered with gold fringes.

Kara hasn't looked this good since college, and she feels the difference. She feels sexy, and powerful, and *thrilled* that Lena clearly sees it too.

"Oh," the younger woman breathes. Lena herself is clad in a rhinstone studded mauve dress. It comes to mid-thigh, but hugs every curve of Lena's body like a glove. Her sleek black hair is up in a high pony, the tail straight and shimmery. But her eyes are on Kara, and nothing else.

Kara slowly struts towards Lena with a sultry smile. "Does your offer still stand?"

Lena blinks, dazzled by Kara's beaded fringes. "Huh?"

Reaching out with one hand, Kara tilts Lena's chin up to meet her eyes. "Up here," she says quietly.

"Right. Sorry. Just--" Lena clears her throat. She shakes herself out of her daze. "I guess you're coming."

"If you'll have me."

Lena grins. "I'll have you right here if you'll let me..."

"I think I've been hogging you enough lately," Kara returns. "I wouldn't want to keep your friends waiting."

Even so, Kara takes Lena's hips with both hands, tugging her close enough for a kiss. Lena moans.

"Fuck 'em."

Kara chuckles. "I think that would make a bad impression."

Lena looks at her for a long moment. "You really want to meet them, don't you?"

Brow furrowing, Kara nods. "Of course." She pauses. "Is.... that okay?"

Lena's smile warms. "Yeah. It's just... new." Before Kara can ask what that means, Lena steps free, snapping her clutch shut. "Let's get out of here."

---

The club is glamorous, and clearly catering to a high end crowd. There's a cordoned area for paparazzi, allowing both photographs and unobstructive ingress to the establishment. When Kara slides out of the SUV, she's careful to immediately twitch her skirt down so as not to give the tabloids something new to talk about.

As always, she lets Lena set the pace. Lena takes her hand and leads the way into the club. Her free hand lifts towards the paparazzi as they walk the roped sidewalk to the building, in a wave or to shield her eyes or hide her face, Kara isn't sure. Before she could decide whether to do the same, the door opens to admit them, releasing a wave of music and voices from within.

When the door closes behind them, Lena takes a moment to scan the crowd. No one seems to recognize her, or, more likely, don't care. It allows Kara's gaze to catch on a tall, slender brunette at a both in the back, standing on the bench seat and waving them over.

Kara nudges Lena and points. Lena nods. "That's us!" she calls over the din. "Let's go!"

Lena tugs her through the crowd, and Kara soon finds herself watching as Lena throws her arms around the brunette. The hug is tight but brief, before Lena turns to pull Kara closer. "This is Sam!"

Sam thrusts her hand out, gripping Kara's hand firmly as she leans forward. "Kara! Nice to meet you!"

"And this is Jack!" Lena continues. "And Veronica-- who invited you?"

"Fuck you too!" Veronica returns easily. She eyes Kara up and down. "You're hot! Wanna dance?"

In an instant, Lena's arm loops through Kara's. "Sorry, taken! Bye!"

And then, Lena leads her back to the dance floor. Kara doesn't have the presence of mind to be upset at the introductions being cut short-- not with the way Lena's body soon moves against hers. Her movments aren't choreographed, but they may as well be with how quickly it melts Kara's insides.

For her own part, Kara struggles to find the beat. She eventually tries to mimic the bodies around her, but remains a half beat out of tempo until Lena gently grabs her wrists and guides Kara's hands to her hips.

It's too loud to even attempt to talk, but Lena's actions speak loudly enough. Her body moves sinuously, her hands resting atop Kara's, and with their bodies pressed together, Kara finds herself falling into step with her partner's. Soon, all that exists is the heat of Lena's body, the pulse of the heavy music, and the scent of Lena's perfume.

They dance for two songs before Lena calls a time out. They return to the booth only long enough to collect the others, before they all relocate to a second floor Kara hadn't noticed, where there's just enough air for Kara to hear herself think.

"We're gonna talk," Sam says, leaning in to murmur in her ear. "Later."

There's no malice in her voice, which prompts Kara to give an easy nod. She looks forward to knowing more about Lena's friends-- even if it means she gets a shovel talk or two.

Once they collapse in a booth, a server takes their orders for drinks and food-- for which Kara is grateful. She doubts the hunger in her belly will be sated by small bites from the bar, but it could perhaps tide her over until she and Lena returned to the hotel.

"Well," Jack says pegging Kara with a pointed look. "After that display, I think we deserve to hear how this happened." He gestures towards the pair of them, and Lena giggles.

"Kara barged into my dressing room," she delivers. Her fingers lace between Kara's under the table as she continues to relate the story of their meeting. When she finishes, Jack whistles.

"Quite the whirlwind for you then," he says to Kara. "How are you holding up?"

"Lena's been taking good care of me," Kara says with a smile. "It's been amazing to see her work."

Lena beams back at her. "You've been amazing." She shoots a look towards Jack. "Don't you dare scare her off."

"Only if you give me a dance, darling."

Lena sighs. "All right. Come on, before the food gets here."

Kara slides out of the booth for Lena to exit, and as she sidles past Lena kisses Kara's cheek. "The things I do for you."

"My hero," Kara grins. Lena isn't at all put out by the idea of dancing with her friend, and for all the warning Lena gave him, he didn't seem to be antagonistic about their relationship. She watches them go, glad that Lena has the chance to reconnect with her friends.

"Kara!" Sam calls. She waves Kara back to the table. "Come sit!"

Kara obeys, only for Veronica to slide out. "I'm going to find the restroom. You two have fun!"

Bracing herself, Kara turns to Sam-- who laughs and waves away her tension. "Relax... I'm not Lena's keeper. She's clearly into you, and you don't seem to be an asshole, so. I'm good."

"You're Sam Arias, right?" Kara asks. She hadn't been sure before in the strobing lights, but sitting so close she now recognizes the actress from some of the movies Esme likes.

Sam nods. "I'm filming in Florence right now, so I figured I'd stop by while I could. Jack has a cover shoot in Vienna, so we figured we'd make a night of it."

Warmth floods Kara's chest. She's seen how hard Lena works, and how solitary she's been since Kara met her. The fact that she has friends willing to bend their schedules to make time for her when they can speaks volumes.

"Mind if I ask you something?" Sam asks. Kara nods for her to continue. "What do you want out of this?"

Sam's not the first to wonder. The difference is that she's asked, rather than assume like Lillian has.

Kara shrugs. "Nothing Lena isn't willing to give." Sam looks at her, waiting for more. "I'm comfortable. I don't want her money, or her fame."

"Then why drop everything to go on tour with her?"

"Being with her makes me happy."

It's a simple truth, but a truth nonetheless. She can return to National City whenever she likes; Lena has placed no pressure on her to stay. But in National City, Kara's thoughts would stay with Lena, so why condemn herself to being stretched between two locations, when she has the freedom and means to simply stay?

"God, that's refreshing," Sam drawls. She takes a sip of her drink before she gives a broad smile.

"Positively saccharine," comes a dry voice from behind Kara, making her jump. She turns to find another tall brunette lurking over her shoulder. This woman's gaze, however, is far sharper than Sam's.

Sam doesn't seem all that surprised to see their visitor. "Andrea," she greets.

"Samantha."

Andrea sits on the edge of the bench, worming her way in so that Kara is forced to scooch to accommodate her.

"What's interesting," Andrea continues, "is that Lena finally found someone who has absolutely no impact on her career."

Though ostensibly that would be a good thing, the relish glinting in the woman's gaze suggests something much darker.

"Before she's chosen industry people. Singers, actors, reps and so forth. The kind of people who, if crossed, could end her career in a heartbeat. Untouchable."

Andrea leers at Kara, her smile tight and predatory. "But you... mmh."

Kara's features settle into a solemn glare, defensive. "What about me?"

"You're nothing," Andrea responds, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "So when you inevitably break her heart, which you absolutely will..." Andrea leans closer. "I'll be able to absolutely demolish you."

"Funny," says Lena, reaching between them to snag her drink. Her face is flushed, upper lip glistening with sweat, but her features are placid. "If only you had put that much care into our relationship *before* it ended."

Andrea blanches slightly, but her features remained solidly antagonistic. "Skimming the gutter, are you, Lena?"

"And happier than during the two years I spent with you," Lena returns smoothly. "Imagine that."

"Get lost, Rojas," Veronica drawls, approaching from the other direction. Andrea is cornered, and she knows it.

She rises stiffly. Moving to leave, she pauses at Lena's shoulders. "Lena--"

Lena scowls. "Please leave."

Andrea hesitates a moment more, but ultimately decides now was neither the time or place to push further. She leaves, and Lena watches her leave with a glower on her face, before she settles onto the bench seat next to Kara.

"Ignore whatever she said to you," Lena says stiffly.

Kara softens. "She cares about you."

"She doesn't get to," comes the sharp retort. "Not anymore."

The message is clear-- Lena does not want to discuss Andrea Rojas.

The mood lightens as Lena's friends expertly steer the conversation away from Andrea's interruption. It's not long until Lena's hackles ease, and she's once more laughing and having fun. Kara relaxes as well, accepting every one of Lena's invitations to dance.

When they leave, it's at Lena's request. Kara's surprised-- Lena's trademark energy still relatively untapped-- until Lena captures her gaze with a heady one of her own. They're on the dance floor when it happens, and Lena leans in to shout into Kara's ear.

"Wanna get out of here?!"

Kara hesitates only a moment, conscious of how Sam and Jack had crossed international borders to see Lena, before she sees Sam not too far off. The brunette's features are astute and smirking, confirming the she understands-- and approves-- exactly what Lena intends.

Before she nods, Kara turns her head to capture Lena's lips as she pulls away. She kisses Lena deeply and soundly, and when she breaks away Lena lists after her. Heavy eyes look up at her, dazed and hungry for more.

"What about your friends?"

"Sam says I've been eye-fucking you all night," Lena calls back. "I'd rather be fucking you for real." She grins. "Respectfully!"

Kara laughs, the sound lost in the music. "Uh huh," she says, mostly to herself. "Then let's go!"

Lena waves at her friends, earning cheeky grins from all three in return. Kara's surprised to see the time is already past 2am. Her blood buzzes in her veins, arousal and anticipation electrifying her nerves.

Kara enters the suv at Lena's slight push, which means when Lena climbs in she plants herself firmly in Kara's lap, hiking up her skirt to straddle Kara's thighs.

"You are so hot tonight," Lena murmurs. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you." She grins. "I wasn't the only one."

Kara blinks. She hadn't sensed anyone staring at her. Then again, she hadn't paid much attention to anyone but Lena.

"I didn't notice."

"I know," Lena purrs, leaning down. Her tongue laves across Kara's throat, before she engulfs all of her senses in a searing kiss. "So fucking hot...."

Kara glances frantically towards the front, hesitant to put on a show for anyone but Lena, but finds that the driver has already rolled up the privacy screen. Kara doubts the screen provides any amount of soundproofing, but it's enough for her to slide her hand under Lena's hitched skirt, cupping a bare ass cheek in her palm.

"Fuck," Kara groans. Her groin tightens, warming with arousal that leaks past her own thong. "Lena--"

"Let me, baby," Lena murmurs beside her ear. She suckles the column of Kara's neck, even as her hand deftly delves under Kara's dress. "I'm gonna make you feel so good..."

Expert fingers find Kara's clit and pause, pressing gently against the throbbing bud. Lena's fingers are warm, but still cooler than the heat between Kara's legs. She curses again, hips bucking ever so slightly.

"Not so fast," Lena croons. "I want you to enjoy this."

Kara's breaths are already coming hard and fast, as her higher brain functions swiftly cease to function. She grunts, pulling a smile to Lena's lips.

Long fingers slide tenderly across Kara's arousal-slicked opening, circling almost carelessly-- except Kara understands Lena knows exactly what she's doing.

"I want you to wait," Lena whispers. "Can you do that for me? Can you wait until we get to the hotel?"

Kara's teeth grind, lassoing any shred of self control she has left, even as Lena's fingers dip between her labia. She enters almost enough for Kara's walls to grip her fingers, but Lena is quick to react, withdrawing before Kara to gain any purchase.

"Answer me," Lena says.

"Y-yes," Kara stammers. "I-- I can wait-- ungh!"

A high, pitiful sound escapes from Kara's throat, wild and unexpected. She feels her cheeks tingle, and knows they would have turned a vivid red if she weren't already red from the exertion of the club.

Lena kisses her, long and slow and deep. As she does, a fingernail lightly catches on Kara's clit, making her gasp. She tastes the warm air and alcohol from Lena's breath, savoring it for a short moment before another stroke of Lena's fingers makes her huff in frustration.

"You're doing so good," Lena tells her. Her free hand strokes Kara's breast, teasing her through the dress until her nipple hardens and stands at attention. "Oh my god, Kara-- you are so beautiful..."

Kara moans plaintively. "I-- I wanna touch you... more--"

"Not yet," Lena chides. She rests their foreheads together, even as she continues her ministrations under Kara's dress. "Do you know what I'm going to do when I get you upstairs?"

Kara grunts, gasping for breath. She's on the verge of coming, and has to force her inner walls to relax lest she climax right then and there.

"I'm going lay you down on my bed," Lena continues, scissoring her fingers inside Kara and smiling sweetly when Kara squirms. "I'm going to lay you down, and then I'm going to ask you to spread your knees as far as you can. I'm going to make you stretch for me...."

Kara's thighs tense under Lena's, hungry in anticipation. Lena leans in close then, speaking low into Kara's ear.

"And then I'm going to put my mouth on you." Teeth scrape Kara's earlobe, sensitizing it for when Lena makes another pass, this time nibbling sharply. Kara throws her head back hard enough to bounce off the headrest.

"Would you like that, baby?" Lena asks, smiling languidly. "Do you want me to lick you dry? Suck on your clit until-- uh uh," comes a stern warning.

Lena withdraws her hand just before Kara climaxes. Kara gives a shuddering sigh, grateful even as she resents the sudden stillness. Her core gapes, walls flexing in search of something, anything to grip.

"You promised," Lena reminds her.

Kara nods, breathless. "S-sorry," she gasps.

"Shhhh," Lena soothes. Her hand returns, playing idly with Kara's clit. "You're doing amazing, baby."

She retracts her fingers again, less cruelly this time, and lifts them to Kara's mouth. Understanding her intent, Kara kisses Lena's slick fingertips, then parts her lips in invitation.

Lena carefully inserts her first and middle fingers, and Kara lets her tongue curl around them. The salt of her own arousal only heightens her senses further, and the pleasure in Lena's features only makes Kara want to perform perfectly, whatever Lena asks of her.

"I--I want...."

"Tell me," Lena murmurs. "Tell me what you want..."

Before Kara can find the coherence to answer, the car slows to a long stop. Lena's eyes flick up to glance out the back window. With a smile, Lena bends back down to capture Kara's lips in a soft kiss.

"You made it," she says. "We're at the hotel."

Lena wipes her damp fingers across her dress to dry them, then clasps Kara's hand and all but drags her out. If there are paparazzi waiting for them outside the building, Kara doesn't see them. She doesn't register much of anything until her dress is a pile on the floor, and Lena pushes her gently backwards. Her legs fold against the edge of the bed, and she sits with a thump.

"Lay back, baby."

Lena kneels, long ponytail spilling over one shoulder. "Let me take care of you."

And oh, does she.

Kara comes in moments, but Lena doesn't relent. She suckles Kara's clit, and licks ardently, endlessly, until Kara comes again and again.

She doesn't relent until Kara breathlessly pats somewhere near Lena's head, unsure if she actually makes contact. Nevertheless, Lena disengages and crawls over Kara, gazing down into her eyes with satisfaction and adoration.

"Worth the wait?"

Kara mutters a curse. She reaches up to snag Lena by the edge of her jaw, pulling her down to a deep, languid kiss.

"Do that again," Kara warns, "and there's no guarantee I won't explode on the spot, if that's my reward."

Lena beams.

"That was so hot. You-- Lena, I...." Suddenly, Kara's brain catches up to her. "Why are you still dressed?"

"I was a little busy..." Lena grins. Her chin is still slicked with arousal, which she wipes salaciously with her fingers.

"Fuck that," Kara growls. She fumbles for the zipper behind Lena's neck, but doesn't find one. "Off... off, off, off."

"Easy, tiger..." Lena casually reaches under her arm, and undoes the side zipper. Then Kara is treated to the sight of Lena peeling the dress up and over her head. Her boots, at least, are already off, leaving Lena utterly, delectably bare.

Lena tilts her head in a tantalyzing tease. She leans down, and the end of her ponytail tickles the hollow of Kara's throat. "How do you want me?"

"I want you so wet I could drown in you," Kara murmurs. Lena's cheeks heat in a ready flush. Carefully, Kara repositions them so that she was the one straddling Lena. She rubs the top of her thigh between Lena's legs, earning her a sweet mewling as Lena wriggles down to try and increase the pressure.

Rather than tease, Kara plants her knee in the mattress, a grounding rod for Lena to grind against.

"What do you need?" Kara asks simply.

"Drawer," Lena says breathlessly. "Under the scarf. There's a-- ngh, jeezus."

Now it's Lena's turn to be frustrated, and Kara finds that she enjoys the picture she paints. She enjoys it very much.

Kara gamely pushes off the mattress and pads over to the short dresser on the far wall. Fishing under the aforementioned scarf, she pulls out a dildo already fitted to a harness.

Lifting an eyebrow, Kara lets it dangle from her finger by one strap, shooting Lena a suspicious glance.

"Planning ahead, were we?"

Lena gives a cheesy grin. "Can never be too prepared," she teases. Her own eyebrow lifts in challenge. "Think you're up for it?"

Kara crosses back to the bed with dildo in hand. Lena returns to her back, and gazes up at Kara with eyes glazed by desire. She inhales sharply when Kara presses the shaft of the dildo between her legs.

"Tell me what you like," Kara urges, her voice low. She kisses her way up Lena's sternum, the licks the hollow of a slender throat. When she pulls back, Lena whimpers. "Tell me."

"I want you," Lena starts, her eyes hooded with want, "to hold me down, and fuck me senseless."

An all new wave of desire floods Kara, making her insides quake. She leans in close to Lena's ear, and feels her partner's breath catch.

"Challenge accepted."

[seneon]

dabi x goth girl but his face gets covered in black/dark lipstick marks 😁

★ kisses that tastes like death, dabi.

just like snakes and spiders, your kisses are filled with poison. the moment your lips touched his skin, dabi could feel his skin stinging from the poison that covered your lips. it's so metaphorical that it doesn't help when he's so bewitched by the colour that covered your pretty pink lips.

the shade of your lipstick like a black mamba's mouth, with each kisses that stains dabi's lips the darkest of hues. it intoxicates him so much that he doesn't give a single shit about how painted his face is with your dark kisses. in fact, he wanted his lips to be covered in your lipstick marks, known and seen to the world that they were your kisses.

your lips are the paintbrush on his beautiful canvas of a face. he couldn't care less if you sipped blood for supper or consume souls for lunch, as long as the shape of your lips covered in dark lipsticks are on his face, dabi is for sure satisfied.

"do you want more?" you asked, gazing at his face. such a work of art dabi is— with your own art work planted on him. his eyes found their way to drown in yours, eyes so captivating and ethereal that he absentmindedly nods at your question. "give me more, you pretty tarantula."

a smile crawled up your lips at his words and the nickname. you always loved it when he calls you a tarantula or any sort of creepy insect. they make your insides twist. you applied more obsidian lipstick on your lips before closing the distance between your face. very carefully, as if you didn't want to scare him with your touch that felt like a corpse's caress, you pressed your lips onto his.

again and again, you kissed, kissed, and kissed dabi, dirtying his precious lips with the taste of death.

note. i'm actually the goth kissing him btw it's none of y'all

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[hsunrry]

witch // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

words: ~1k

warnings: smut18+, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“i’ll check the barn, you go.” you could hear a voice outside the barn and in this moment you knew you were screwed. ginger hair, old enough to be married, but still without a ring on your finger and without baby bump. if he finds you, you’re dead. you’re going to burn at the stake. you were hiding between two hay bales with hand on your mouth to prevent any sound. when you heard that he started walking around your whole body tensed. he was closer and closer, finally standing right in front of you. “there you are…” he smirked. he was a knight, that’s for sure. for some reason he wasn’t dressed in typical armor, but in something more… loose.

“no, please. i’m not a witch.” you managed to stutter. he only scoffed at your words. he was staring down at you, getting closer.

“ah, yeah? you’re a ginger woman hiding in barn, forgive me for finding it suspicious.” he grabbed your arm, making you stand up.

“you have to believe me!” you whined. he grabbed your both wrists, holding them behind your back with one hand. there’s no way to escape. he was stronger, taller and so much bigger than you in general, it was almost funny from third perspective.

“how old are you?” he asked, still firmly holding you.

“21.” you whispered.

“21 and no ring on your finger. how come?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. you swallowed.

“because i run away from my mother.” you confessed and he narrowed his brows.

“and you want me to believe you, that you’re not a witch?” he asked amused.

“just let me go, please.” you looked up at him, pleadingly.

“i can’t let you go. i can’t just let a possible witch go free, can i? it’s my job to hand you over to the townspeople.” his grip on your wrists tightening.

“i’m not a witch, please.” he looked into your eyes and he could feel his knees melting. he shook his head.

“i’ll let you go under one condition.” you nodded quietly. “if you’ll… satisfy me.” your heart started beating quicker at his words. you licked your lips slightly and after few seconds you nodded. he smiled, letting go of your wrists. he sat down on one of the hay bales, pulling you after him so you could straddle his lap. he gripped your waist, going up and down. “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“y/n.” you answered, feeling his hands going under the hem of your dress. he started pushing it up your legs.

“y/n.” he smiled. “i’m Harry.” he continued taking it off you, leaving you only in underwear. he grinned. “you’re so beautiful. tell me, are you a virgin, little one?” you bite inside of your cheek, shaking your head at ‘no’. he nodded. “that’s what i thought, that’s good.” he kissed the place between your breasts. after that he took off everything from his upper body, exposing his chest. he started kissing your neck and you tilted your head to the side to give him better access. “you’re so pretty.” he gasped against your skin. “are you sure you’re not a witch? you have me under your spell already.”

“i’m not.” you chuckled, moaning quietly right after, when he sucked on your neck. you gasped when his hand brushed over your covered nipple. he pulled out from your neck, looking at your face.

“you’re so sensitive, i love that.” he reached behind to undid your bra, tossing it in the same place where he tossed your dress earlier. his lips immediately started to suck on your nipple, causing your body to tremble slightly. your quiet moans and gasps were driving him crazy. eventually, he picked you up and placed you on your back on the bale. he undressed himself completely, freeing his huge, erected cock from his pants. before he hovered over you, he got rid of your panties, leaving you all naked. he looked into your eyes, smiling. “ready for a little fun?”

“yes.” you felt his hand going down between your legs, pushing two fingers inside you. you moaned and your back arched slightly towards him. his lips met yours in needy kiss, while his fingers were pumping in and out. he eventually pulled them out, breaking the kiss and looking down at you. he positioned himself between your legs, brushing his tip against you. he started moving forward, slowly pushing inside. you could feel how he was stretching you and your hands immediately went to his back. he groaned when he went fully. he waited few seconds and after that he stared moving slowly in and out, causing your moans.

“you feel so good.” he gasped, gripping your hips. his head went into the crook of your neck, kissing it slowly. he started to move faster.

“you too.” you panted, feeling his arms wrapping around your body, instead of holding your hips. you tilted your head back from pleasure. he kissed your lips hungrily, moaning into the kiss when he felt your hand in his hair.

“does that feel good, honey?” he gasped against your lips and you only nodded breathlessly. “wrap your legs around my hips.” he commanded. when you did that, you could felt him going even deeper and you almost cried out of pleasure at the feeling. “yes, that’s good.” he groaned. his movements went faster. you were panting mess at this point and you both were so close.

“oh my god, yes!” you moaned, clenching your inner walls on his dick when you finished. this triggered his own release and you could feel his hot seeds shooting deep inside you. he groaned loudly, slowing down his movements. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy. his lips planting kisses on your neck.

“jesus, you’re incredible.” he smiled against your skin.

“you know what the best part is?” you asked, massaging his scalp.

“what?” he chuckled quietly.

“you just fucked a witch.” you grinned.

[x-gabrielle-x]

Withered Cards | III

Pairings: Jason Todd x Reader.

Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death.

Summary: Despite the many different problems you overcome with Jason Todd, you always eventually make it back to each other. Even after his death, how could you still love a man who changed so much? Even when you made a turn for the worst.

Series Masterlist

Jason Todd 5:48am

"Mistakes are not something you can afford to make, Jason," Bruce commented, though his gaze was trained on the screen before him. "I told you this was an intel mission. You should have waited for my queue."

I adjusted my position on the chair I was currently sat on, my gaze burning into Bruce's back the longer he continued to stare at the projective computer before him. The tape that he had collected from the mission played on repeat, and truthfully, it was becoming painful having to rewatch it over and over.

Yes, I had been given strict orders to merely stay hidden within the shadows and report back to Batman with the intel I was instructed to gather, but I wanted to do more than be a sidekick to gather information.

“How was that a mistake?” I retorted, pointing to the screen. “If I hadn’t gone, you would have never known what was happening down there.”

Finally, Bruce turned in his chair, his voice just as deep as always. Like a parent scolding his child - which was true to an extent.

"You're telling me that you found out what that whole ordeal was about?" He questioned, gesturing a hand to the screen. "Because it sure doesn't look like you do."

It angered me more than I would have liked to admit that he was mostly right. The most I knew was that the Joker was up to something, but when was he not? The best possible answer I got was that he has an alliance of some sort. The girl seemed to be around my age, possibly younger, and yet she was one of the most skilled fighters I've fought. She was experienced, and no doubt deadly.

My nose ached from the harsh punch she had thrown, the wet rag that was now soaked with crimson blood was discarded beside me.

When Bruce noticed my silence, he continued to ignore me from then on. His fingers dancing along the computer and leaving an uncomfortable silence I wished to break.

Alfred walked in with a tray of coffee; something Bruce had waved him off to go and grab whilst he worked. Whilst the silence lingered, Alfred's gaze flickered up to the screen of the masked girl.

"I do not recognize this criminal," Alfred spoke as he settled the tray down. "Have we seen this girl before?"

Bruce shook his head, a frown etched on his features. "No, but there have been witnesses. Apparently, she's only showed up around Gotham the past two months."

Alfred hummed. “And what does this criminal do, exactly?”

Bruce pushed his body away from the desk with a long sigh, his brows still pinched into a deep frown as his hand dragged down his face. “Jason’s body cam just managed to pick up a little of their conversation before she ran off. The Joker is in on this, too. She knows him, and well.”

My curiosity was piqued. What was the Joker's intentions, now? Surely it was another scheme to lure Batman into a trap.

“Perhaps another laughing gas?” Alfred suggested as he glanced over at me, gesturing toward the tea as he offered to pour some, but I shook my head.

"Not a laughing gas," I concluded, digging into the suit that I still wore. I pulled out the familiar vial that I had managed to snatch from the masked girl, holding it up for everybody's view. "I'm thinking maybe a drug, or maybe some sort of crazy mutation serum!" I looked between the two, a satisfied smirk on my face.

Bruce remained silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving the vial in my hand. I was expecting praise, a congratulations, maybe even a pat on the back and allowed more freedom whilst on patrol. But Bruce's face remained stoic.

"Jason," he started, tone very far from what I had expected. Was it anger? Disappointment? Shock?

He was quick to saunter over and take the vial from my hand, analyzing it carefully as he twisted it in his grasp.

With a shake of his head, his frown deepened. If that were even possible. He placed the vial carefully onto the desk beside the computer.

"You're too reckless," he began. "Not only did you go against my orders, but now you are involved with a crime much deeper than what you can handle. You've put yourself in danger. And not only yourself," he pointed to the screen again. "But you got her in danger, too.

I felt my anger boil, ready to spill over any second. Could Bruce not see my success for once? Could he not give me the approval I desperately wished for? It was risky, but I got the job done.

"I did what I had to," I defended, the anger evident in my voice as I took a step closer.

Bruce quickly snapped back. "And what you did was wrong."

A pause.

"Next time something like this happens, you follow my order... otherwise the title of Robin goes to somebody else."

In the heat of my rage, I stormed past both Bruce and Alfred and made my way out of the Batcave, cape flowing behind me with every long stride. Before the door had slammed shut behind me, I just managed to hear a little of Alfred's voice.

"They're both just children, Master Wayne," he tried. "Much like you once were."

"I cant have him making more mistakes."

Y/N Y/L/N 5:27am

A harsh slap landed against my cheek, my head snapping to the side from the force. The burning sensation left behind caused for my eyes to sting with tears, my vision blurred.

His maniacal laughter was all i could hear despite the ringing in my ears, and I didn't fail to notice the very evident annoyance behind each deep inhale of laughter.

"I cant believe it!" Joker paced. "You really let that little rodent slip past your fingers, just like that? My, my, I might have placed just a little too much faith in you."

He crouched down before me, masking a frown as his thumb came up to swipe the blood from my lip. My tongue darted out to swipe at the cut he had left, the metallic taste lingering in my mouth.

"I must say I am very disappointed," Joker hummed, but oddly enough his hand came to rest on my shoulder, like an odd way of comforting. "But that's why there's always room to learn from mistakes!"

The vial that I was sent to retrieve merely a few hours ago was no longer tucked away safely in my pocket.

I had only realized once I was in front of Joker's latest warehouse that he used as a current hideout, my hands searching every pocket, each shoe in search for the vial. Robin had managed to slip it out without me noticing, and it enraged me.

He was fast, skilled, and very obviously sly. Although it was a tough fight, it brought some adrenaline and excitement into my night. Something I had craved for a while.

Joker clicked his tongue in thought, now sat on a torn couch across from me with his leg propped up on his knee.

"You'll make it up to me, right, my little clown?" his tone was almost mocking. "Perhaps next time you might run into the little birdy again, oh, that would spice things up!"

I inhaled a shaky breath. "I'll get it back," I said, but he waved me off.

"Nah, I'll just get the doc to make me a new one. Although, we cant afford any more mistakes now, can we, Y/N?"

He looked at me expectingly, dread washing over me the longer his gaze pierced my own.

"No, we cant."

"That's my girl!" He clapped his hands. "Harley! Come get the poor girl cleaned up, will ya? She looks like she's been through hell!" He let out a loud cackle at what he considered a joke, slapping his knee.

Harley's head popped from around the corner of the cracked wall, pigtails swinging with every movement she made. With one look at me, she was rushing over.

"Puddin, what happened?" She practically squealed, ushering me to stand up, though the small smile never left her lips. "Oh dear, lets get you all nice and cleaned up!"

The bathroom that she had practically dragged me into smelt of urine and had broken tiles scattered across the floor. Mold was growing along the ceiling and puddles of water crowded at the base of the sink. I had to hold back the look of disgust when Harley took a small rag and wet it under some water.

It wasn't long until Harley was finally finished with dabbing my split lip with the cold water and tending to the few cuts I had littered over my flesh. It was a poorly done job, but the moment I got to step into my own small room - a storage space that barely managed to fit the worn mattress I used to sleep on, I was instantly flopping down.

It was quiet and dark, but nothing I wasn't already used to. I enjoyed having some time away from the two clowns, after all.

Looking over, I reached for the same small bear that I've kept over the years, only now it wasn't as soft as it used to be, and the familiar smell of my old home was gone from the fur. Instead, it was now covered in dirt and grime. A button had been sewn on poorly as an eye after the last had fallen off, and its right arm was barely hanging on by a thread. Still, I carefully held it against my body as I laid on my side, alone and tense.

My mind refused to settle, thoughts swarming with the Robin boy who had managed to make my night go from alright to horrific in only a few hours.

He had outplayed me - tricked me - and still somehow, he had managed to get my mind swimming. Our fight was oddly thrilling, and it confused me with his cocky comments. Batman was nowhere to be seen, meaning that Robin had let me go. Why?

My knuckles had tightened their hold on the bear, a reminder of my life before any of this had happened. I didn't dwell on it, knowing that there was no way back. But the sadness lingered once I buried my face into the soft fur, allowing for the sleep to catch up to me. As usual it was never a peaceful one, but instead filled with nightmares and an all too familiar wide grin.

@annabellelee @stormz369

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[artdcnaldson]

imagine slipping patrick AND art viagra..

like patrick is usually dominant with you and art, but after cumming three times from his hand, he feels himself slipping

he walks into the living room to see art desperately humping the couch cushion, crying out in pain from how raw his cock his from humping

they practically jump onto each other when they see they’re nothing having the same problem

patrick’s breeding art, so so much that when you come home you see art, asleep on the couch with cum still leaking down his balls and patrick slumped over him, asleep as well

This literally makes me feel so insane.

It would be so fucking animalistic, the way they’d use each other to get off. Clawing and slapping at each other to decide who gets to fuck who. Patrick wins because he’s bigger and stronger and maybe because Art wanted to be fucked to begin with. Patrick’s fucking into Art’s hole hard and rough and the pretty blond is just crying for it— begging for it harder faster deeper more more more. Patrick didn’t realize just how much of a slut Art could be until that moment, when his sweet boy is outpacing even him. Neither of them are satisfied until they’ve shot three loads into whatever it is they’re fucking. Art’s just dripping with thick globs of cum, the couch cushion looks like it’s glazed. Patrick crashes while he’s still inside of Art, and Art is just drooling face down on the sofa, all limp and spent.

You make a note to stay around next time.

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Character Death)

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; main character death

Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Had someone ask for a different alternate ending so here it is :)

*This picks up from part 13 in italics*

The moment the video stopped, you locked eyes with Simon. Your puffy eyes made him internally broken, but his facial expression hadn't changed, and you didn't know if he was upset that you had gotten revenge for cheating on you... or if it was something else. You wanted to say that it meant nothing. That you were drunk and fucking mad at him... but you couldn't say shit with the tape still over your mouth.

"I have to say, she sounds.. so damn good. Doesn't she?" Jax teased as he asked everyone in the room. Even with Andrei not responding, since he was the one who had his tongue on you, Jax smiled at Simon like he had won or something, "How does it feel?" He walked and stood behind Simon as he leaned down so his face was almost next to his, looking at you, "Tell her." He demanded.

Simon's eyes never strayed away from yours as you continued to cry. The look on his face hadn't really changed, but his eyes told you exactly how he felt. The regret that ran through his soul.... he wished he could been a better man; a better husband. You didn't deserve any of this.. yet you stayed. You had wanted to work on your marriage even after the ugly truth came out. It was his fault, and he would forever kill himself over it. He would be grateful if you ever forgave him, promising to give you the entire world and more after he so much tore yours apart by cheating.

"I love you," he lowly said, making you cry even more. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart... for everythin'."

"Satisfying, isn't it?.. Finally realizing your mistakes?"

Simon finally tore his eyes away from you and looked at Jax, "Let her go."

He paused, acting as if he was thinking about something, "I thought about it," he teased, "but see... I can't do that. She's knows far too much... much more than our girl Williams," he joked - a terrible one that made both you and Simon shoot him the deadliest glare.

He raised his gun up, pointing it at you, making your eyes widen.

"Let her go, Jax," Simon raised his voice, "This is between me and you."

"Oh, it's not just me," he chuckled, "But I guess it would be easier to take you out first." He moved his gun to point it at Simon's temple.

You yelled through the tape and thrashed around as you tried to get out of the restraints. Your skin was probably raw at how much you rubbed at the ropes. You wanted to beg him not to shoot your husband.. you even tried to. But it was pointless.

"Say goodbye to your wife... Lieutenant."

Time felt like it slowed down as you and Simon looked at each other. He looked angry and sad, but no doubt love. He loved you for everything you had given him, everything you had done for him. And if this was the last time he'd see you... then so be it. He was ready... and you didn't want that. You weren't ready to leave him; to say goodbye.

The wails that came from your muffled lips had you choking on the saliva that bubbled up in your throat. You wanted to vomit so bad.

"Close your eyes love," Simon told you. You didn't want to. God you didn't want to. But you couldn't stomach the thought of seeing him die right in front of you, so you shut your eyes tight and waited for the loud popping sound of Jax's gun to go off.

BANG!

The moment the loud pop echoed in the room, your eyes opened as you looked at the scene in front of you. And god, did you begin to wail as you saw your husband. He was slumped over in the chair. A bullet wound at his temple. Jax, who had taken a step toward you as he smiled, made you thrash in your restraints forcefully.

"When they find you... tell them Makarov said hello," he said as he snatched the tape off of your mouth. You couldn't help the loud cry that left your lips as you looked at him with pure hatred.

"Fuck you!!" you screamed, but it didn't even faze him.

He and the rest of the men walked out of the room, Andrei giving you a malicious wink before he shut the door. You couldn't help the loud cries that continued to come from your mouth as you sat there and looked at Simon.

He was dead.

God, you wanted to fucking die with him. The pain of knowing he was murdered all because of something that was bigger than this would haunt you forever.

20 minutes later, heavy footsteps rushed through the door, and you almost thought it was Jax and his men again until you realized that Price, Johnny, and Kyle had come in with their guns drawn.

But it was too late.

The moment they saw how distraught you were and looked at their comrade with his head hanging forward, they knew. The fucking knew that they were too late in rescuing both of you. Johnny kneeled down in front of Simon, putting his fore and middle finger against his neck to check for a pulse like he'd find one. "Fuck," he said as he looked up at the other two men.

Kyle rushed over to you and began to cut away at the ropes that tied you up, and the second you were free, you leaped out of the chair and ran to Simon, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cried. He was cold.. ice cold damn near, but you held onto him like he would somehow take a breath of air.

But you knew he wouldn't, yet you still continued until Price tried to pull you off of him.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"No!" you yelled, "He can't leave me! He can't- He's gotta come back. We have to work through this! Please John... please wake him up!"

Fuck.

His sad eyes eventually met yours as he frowned, "I'm so sorry."

************************************************************************

Someone once told you in the past to read about the 5 Stages of Grief. You thought it was silly. What did you have to grieve about, when all you wanted was to be happy with your husband? You didn't think about that kind of stuff, especially when it came to him. But hell, did you wish you had picked up on a few things at least.

Denial.

Even with Simon being taken away when the police and corners arrived, you still couldn't believe he was gone. It was like you were waiting for him to come out of every corner to surprise you - like he did at the club. The first couple of days were the worst, as you would call his phone only to hear it ring on the nightstand next to you. The day of the funeral, you almost passed out twice from how everything hurt (physically and emotionally).

Anger.

The anger that flowed through your soul was more than knowing Simon cheated on you. It was more than knowing you cheated on him. You wanted to kill Jax. You wanted to make him pay for taking the love of your life. But you knew that was a crazy thought. It still didn't stop you from breaking things in your apartment - the glass of wine you were drinking out of, the vase on the side table. Days after the funeral, you quit your job because you couldn't stomach the thought of leaving your house because you were afraid and angry that Jax or Andrei would kidnap you again.

Bargaining.

You had no one to bargain with except whatever angels were up above to bring your husband back. And bargaining, you did. You begged and begged and begged like it would make a difference. You had even bargained for the universe to take you instead of Simon; to switch places with you.

Depression.

The worst phase you felt. You wanted to die. You thought about it so many times. It didn't make you feel better when you continued to go to counseling - for different reasons now. You just wanted to be with your husband again. The plaguing thoughts of taking a bunch of pills and never waking up crossed your mind so much during that phase.

Acceptance.

When things finally settled - and fuck did it take a while for that to happen - the only thing that had changed was knowing Simon wasn't going to come back by some miracle. Every other day (if not every day), Price, Johnny, or Kyle would come to check on you, along with Ava, who constantly brought dinner just to make sure you would eat.

It was heartbreaking. Simon was gone. It wasn't like you two had gone through the divorce, but he was gone from you forever.

But what hurt the most was the note you found in your husband's belongings when Johnny brought them from his office. Even he felt weird that they had cleaned out his space there, saying it wasn't right.

It was crushing to read it, and you cried in Johnny arms for a long time that he ended up putting you to bed and calling Ava to stay with you because he had to leave.

The note was written a few days before you were kidnapped. Simon once again apologized for everything that he did, the pain he caused you, and the deep love he expressed to you. He went into detail about his feelings and how he would die for you if it ever came to it.. Fuck it was like he had predicted his own death or something.

Why did life have to be so fucking cruel? Why were things the way they were? Just because you had accepted that he was gone didn't mean you were ever going to be over it. But you could only hope that somewhere up in the skies he was watching over you.

Not going to lie.. this was hard to write because I teared up proofreading this but let me know how you all like it!!

Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514

[ariannag6-blog]

Toshinori Yagi in bed 18+

600 words.

All Toshinori work by me is under hashtag AriaToshinori

What would Toshinori be like in bed? Here’s what I think.

I feel like Toshinori would have a praise kink. Not necessarily receiving but giving. He would want to do anything he can to get the sweet reward of hearing his partner moan and watch their eyes roll back. He knows he’s a big guy and has a girthy member. He would prefer to love his partner slowly not to cause them unnecessary pain. Enjoying every sweet moment and feeling of their body.

If Toshinori’s partner could handle his member and wanted him to be rougher he would speed up the pace but only if they begged him for it over and over. He would do it to satisfy them but otherwise I think he would still prefer to take his time. He has a lot of stamina, I feel like he could last hours in the bedroom. Toshinori again loves taking his time and being slow he would love each session to be about an hour or so long. He would find delight in overstimulating his partner with pleasure and edging them occasionally but he would stop if it got too much. He would want to make them cum over and over again in any way he could. It’s enough to satisfy him he doesn’t feel like he needs to cum to have a good time. He only needs you to finish. But if he does get there and is able to cum he’s not against that either.

Toshi would probably grunt a lot while cumming mainly because he’s trying his hardest not to pound into you too deeply or roughly and because he spent so much time toying with you by the time he gets to cum his tip feels immensely overstimulated but he’s addicted to the sensation of it.

Toshinori dirty talk. Toshi would adore saying things like.

“It’s okay you can take it, you’re doing so well for me.”

“I know it’s a lot. It’ll feel good soon I promise. Let Toshi play with your pretty pussy I promise it’ll make it feel better.”

“You look so beautiful when you cum darling.”

“You taste like heaven. Please put your pretty hands in my hair. Guide me. Tell me what spots feel good. I won’t stop until you can’t finish anymore.”

“I love you so much baby, am I making you feel good? Not too much is it?”

“My fingers slid in so easily did my kisses really turn you on that much? Let me give you more then.”

He loves praising your body while he says these things as well. Leaving lots of kisses on your forehead and everywhere else. Loves running his fingers through your hair with one hand while you cum, holding your hips in place with the other. He never takes his eyes off you for a second while he’s toying with your body. He’s obsessed with his partner and thinks they are the most beautiful thing to ever exist.

He’s such a strong man but he loves being as gentle as he can with your body. He would definitely be afraid of spanking you, spitting on you, tying you up, any sort of rough kinky stuff like that. On the other hand he wouldn’t mind you tying him up if you got off to that. He prefers to be a soft dom/top but if he ended up being with a dominant woman who wanted to have her way with him he would submit. Even if she wanted to slap him and be rough. He knows you wouldn’t be able to do damage to his body because he’s so strong and fit. Your slaps would feel like slight pinches on his body. Not the feelings of the slaps but the look on your face while you did that and other things would get him off knowing that it was pleasing you to do so.

[yesimwriting]

hey! how is Felix and lovie doing????

oh still painfully oblivious and in love

----

The chill is enough to pull you out of sleep.

You extend an arm blindly, too groggy to be more productive in your search for a source of warmth. Your fingertips brush against rumpled sheets, but the half-conscious part of you isn't satisfied with the discovery of a blanket.

Felix, you realize with a start, where is he? The question gives you enough of a sense of purpose to lift your head. There's no sunlight bleeding in through the window, which means that it's still late. You squint, pressing your elbow into the mattress as you try to sit up further.

There's a figure, an outline closer to the edge of the bed than to you. Felix. You reach out instinctually, your hand finding his back. Before you can make any real progress at stealing his warmth, he shifts, tensing beneath you.

You frown, gently dragging your nails down his spine. He doesn't ease. You move to sit up a little straighter, leaning over him in an attempt at reading his expression. The darkness makes it impossible to make out much, but his eyebrows do seem to be furrowed.

He sighs, the sound uneasy. You trail your fingers up and down his back again. "Lex," you whisper, voice a little too raspy to be effective. "Felix." He mumbles something into his sheets. Your hold on him tightens, your fingers pressing into his shoulder. "Lex."

Felix inhales, entire body going rigid. He wakes up all at once, head lifting itself and shoulders tensing. You press your palm against the fabric of his shirt, but you're not given a real chance at comforting him before he's turning.

His back finds the mattress. You remain still, forearm digging into the bed's cushioning as you study the rise and fall of his chest. After a moment of ragged breathing, he whispers, "Lovie?"

Forgetting the dark, you nod. "Yeah--yeah, it's me." As if to prove your point, you place a hand against his side. He seems to breathe a little easier at that. "Think you had a bad dream."

There's a quality to his stillness that jabs at you. It isn't him like him. You're too groggy to articulate your concern, so you move your hand, dragging your knuckles against his side.

He exhales at that, his arm bending towards his chest. His fingers find your wrist. "Yeah, it--it was a dream."

The response is almost irritatingly blank. He squeezes your hand carefully, his touch warm and sure. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Felix drags his thumb against the back of your palm. He's quiet enough to be contemplating something. "No," he finally says, "Not now."

If he seemed any less unsteady, you'd consider pushing. Instead, you just let yourself watch him for a second, eyes straining to make out his features in the dark. "Okay," you settle on, "That's okay." He hums once, but the sound feels distant. "Do you want to talk about anything else? Or turn on the light and stay up for a little?"

Felix traces invisible patterns against your hand as he thinks through his options. "Can you come here?"

You nod as you shift forward. Felix extends his arm, providing you the space needed to rest your head against his stomach. He places a hand against your back.

You try to will yourself to embrace the comfort of the new position, but there's a lingering tension that you can't fully dismiss. "Are you okay?"

He smooths circles against your spine. "Yeah," the response is a little softer than you'd like it to be, almost hesitant. "Think it was those last couple of mixed drinks you told me not to drink." It's true, you had warned him against the third bar special. "From now on, I'm listening to you always."

The exaggeration makes you grin. "Lesson learned."

Felix mumbles a response, his voice too heavy and drowsy for you to piece together his words. You're okay with the not knowing, but he clarifies anyway, "I'm happy you're here."

You shut your eyes, letting yourself focus on the overwhelming safety that is Felix. "Me too."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

[blackcatwriter]

Linger Part 2 (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

a/n: Part 2 is finally here! I stayed up a little late for a few days to push this one out because I wanted to get it done before my classes started. Thank you to the lovely @scumscumpooties47 for helping to edit all that I write. Literally none of these would be posted if I didn't have your encouragement. Happy reading!

warnings: typical canon violence, no use of Y/N, angst if you squint, happy ending, fluff, possibly some grammatical mistakes, slight spoilers to Ch. 4 but once again creative liberties are taken

wc: 3.1k

tags: @warmsideofthepillow03

summary: You make up your mind, Arthur struggles to keep his promise once more.

divider by @plum98

The ride out of St. Denis grew quiet as the cobblestoned streets faded to dirt roads leading back to the Largras swamps. In place of the bustling streets were the croaks and cries of the animals that resided there. Arthur’s mind was in a haze, reeling from the amount of emotions he felt from seeing you again.

Nervousness. Relief. Desperation. Longing. Love.

The moment he saw you at that damned party he instantly forgot what his purpose of being there was for. Arthur disappeared from Dutch’s side to find you. He didn’t even know what he’d say to you much less if you’d be willing to hear him out.

But god–being away from you for months without a clue of your wellbeing just to see you all dressed up at a party shot a bullet straight through his heart. He knew he wouldn’t be able to leave that party without talking to you, but he hadn’t expected everything that proceeded after.

Following a lady home after clearly upsetting her? Asking her to run away with you again? Here you had him acting like a damn teenage boy with a crush.

“What the hell am I doing, girl?” Arthur muttered to his steed. As if understanding his frustration, Bodicea huffed in response, earning a sigh from him. “I’m a fool for thinking she’d want to show up after everything.” As he reached the gang’s hideout, Arthur left his horse to graze while he readied himself for what Dutch would have to say.

Dutch wouldn’t take too kindly to Arthur disappearing from helping the gang look for leads, especially if it was for the lost love Dutch told him to leave in the past. “Distractions cost the gang. Let her go,” Dutch would remind Arthur while his heartbreak was still fresh from leaving you.

“Arthur! Get in here!” Dutch yelled from the front porch of the creaky manor, crushing his cigar into the ground with his boat before striding inside. Complying to his orders, Arthur followed behind him quickly.

“I have a plan. We’re going to rob the trolley station tomorrow. Micah claims he heard Pinkertons not too far behind us so we’ll need to act–”

“Tomorrow?” Arthur’s face paled. “We ain’t never robbed something in a city before. The law is gonna be all over the place! We need more time than just a day’s notice.” Arthur looked down at the map Dutch had on the table. “We’ll be backed into a corner by the law before the Pinkertons catch news and come for the rest of us–if we ain’t dead by then!” 

“Are you doubting me, son? There’s already been enough of that amongst the gang. I don’t need to hear anymore of that, especially from my best gun.” Dutch scowled. “What I need to hear is that you have my back. Do you have my back, Arthur?” 

Pushing you to the back of his mind, he answered, “Always, Dutch.” 

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, Dutch walked upstairs to his makeshift room. Sighing, Arthur sat down with his head in his hands. He felt torn in half. On one hand, he had his loyalties to the gang. He had been with them, with Dutch, for practically his whole life. He owed Dutch his life, but lately he couldn’t help but feel as if Dutch wasn’t thinking his plans through. 

On the other hand, there was you. You, who had held him when he could no longer bear the weight of the guilt he kept inside. You, who would listen to him talk about the few precious memories he had with his mother. You, who Arthur loved dearly. Too distracted by the conflicting feelings in his head, Arthur didn’t notice Hosea sitting down by him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so thoughtful, Arthur.” The old man chuckled to himself. “What’s on your mind, son?” Sighing, Arthur raised his face. Some things might slip by Dutch, but Hosea seemed to always know when something was wrong. 

“You ever regret it? Coming back to this shit hole?” From what Arthur picked up when Hosea mentioned his life with Bessie, he had it pretty damn good. The pair lived in a cabin up in the Grizzlies until Hosea was roped back into their life of crime. Bessie had come along with him until she tragically died.

“I regret bringing Bessie with me.” He paused, his voice growing solemn. “Maybe she’d still be alive if I left her behind.” The grief ridden man’s words hit Arthur deeply. Bessie unfortunately already met her end, but you hadn’t. You still had a chance to live your life unafraid of the people that might come after you. 

“It’s that woman again, isn’t it?” A small smile grew on Hosea’s face. “She’s why you disappeared from us.”

“It ain’t like that.” Vulnerable at the mention of you, Arthur stood from his seat practically storming away from Hosea until he put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Son, even as bad as it is for us now…you still have a chance to do right by your woman. Take what you’ve got and don’t look back.” Loosening his grip on Arthur’s arm, Hosea disappeared up the stairs. 

Hearing Hosea telling him he had his blessing to walk out on the gang left Arthur feeling more unsure than ever. While he loved the people in the gang he had come to know as family, you had become his home away from home (as much as the gang’s ever changing campgrounds can be called “home”.)

Needless to say Arthur didn’t get much sleep that night.

The following morning you were awake as soon as the sun had risen, pacing in your room. You were sure the servants would be annoyed by the constant creak your floorboards made with each step, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The suitcase you had packed in a frenzy last night poked out from under the bed. You had no idea what came over you when you packed it. It was a blur of grabbing random items you thought might be worth selling and as many snacks you could steal from the kitchen without raising suspicion.

Picking at your sleeves you pondered all the possibilities that could occur. 

1)One of the servants finds out and stops you before you can leave. 2) Arthur gets caught by a bounty hunter for whatever bounty he has over his head because he’s Arthur and always seems to be in some kind of trouble. 3) Arthur is killed by anyone else he might’ve wronged from being with Dutch (You hated that man. You always had a bad feeling about him.) 4) Arthur and you manage to leave the city and live in a hidden cabin somewhere in the mountains 5) Arthur doesn’t show up.

Somehow even the possibilities of Arthur’s death seemed better than him abandoning you all over again. Death would mean he left you against his will. Your better judgment told you not to take him for his word. The two of you had already tried this once–look where it got you– but even now the love you still felt for him won you over.

So now here you were, endlessly treading back and forth your room. This was it. You were going to trust that he would be standing at the bridge he said he would and run away with him. 

Suddenly a quiet knock was heard from your door followed by a light voice, “Ma’am? Is everything alright?” Recognizing the voice as your maid, Nora, you quickly opened the door and plastered a smile on your face. “Of course it is. Why are you asking?” You huffed, blowing your hair out of your face.

Oh god, she sees right through you. She can probably tell what’s going through your mind just by the frantic look in your eyes. She’ll alert the other servants and soon enough your husband will cut his business trip short to deal with you. Maybe she’ll keep it a secret if you bribe her.

“Not to be nosy, but the other maids and I heard ye’ pacing since the sun came up. Would ye’ like me to make some tea?” Your stiffness eased at her efforts to offer you some comfort in the form of tea. Since you first arrived at your fiance’s residence Nora had been the only person who made you feel welcomed. She might be the only person you’d miss once you’d left.

Thanking her, you walked downstairs to the drawing room and waited for the tea. You definitely had to calm down. Your nerves were causing you to look like a mess in front of everyone, but the urge to just race out the front door to Arthur’s arms was too strong. The love of your life was so close to you yet so far.

Soon what felt like eons passed and noon was just half an hour away. It would be easy to make up an excuse to get out of the house, but how does one explain carrying a suitcase? Nonsense, you’re their employer (engaged to their employer but nonetheless), and they had no authority to question what you do in a day.

“Nora, I’ll be taking my afternoon walk earlier today. Don’t worry if I take longer than usual. I plan on running some errands while I’m out.” You called out while you dashed to the front door as fast as you could without tripping over yourself.

“But ma’am what about Mr. Finch?” Nora chimed, noticing the suitcase you held in your hand. Stopping in your tracks you turned around to face her. “What about my fiance?” Confusion evident in your voice. Did you forget something?

“He’s coming home early, remember?” Nora reminded you. Ah, there it is. You had forgotten he was going to come home early, but you’ll be long gone by the time he turns up. “I’m sure I’ll be home before he arrives.” You gave a tight lipped smile.

“Oh ma’am, you needn’t hold your own suitcase. That’s why ye’ have the help.” She gestured for one of the nearby servants to take the suitcase from you. 

“Nonsense, I can carry my own belongings. You all do enough as it is.” You flinched and held the suitcase closer to yourself. 

If she was suspicious of you, she didn’t show it. With a hesitant nod she let the matter go and returned to her duties. Having nothing else that needed tending to, you left. You walked out the door with your heart beating out of your chest.

The walk to the bridge was only a few short minutes. No one had bothered you once you were out the door, which you were glad about. You didn’t want anything to do with your pretentious neighbors anymore or their weekly tea gatherings to discuss the latest gossip of high-society. 

No, you wanted to be with Arthur and spend the rest of your life exploring the country by his side. Who knew where you’d go first? Obviously you’d have to lay low until his face was no longer on wanted posters–perhaps the Grizzlies?

You were abruptly pulled from your thoughts when a lawman bumped into you as he ran by causing you to fall. “Excuse you–” You had started to reprimand him as you reached for your suitcase when you looked up and realized all the policemen were running from their posted stations.

“What the hell?” You mumbled under your breath, furrowing your eyebrows at the commotion going on around you. Lifting yourself off the ground you ran to the nearest policeman. “What’s going on? Why are people running?” In the back of your mind you had an idea of who might be behind the uproar, but you desperately wished it wasn’t him.

“Dutch! The damn brakes are broken!” Arthur yelled, racing to get to the back of the trolley. Maybe if he was lucky he’d die on impact. Going far too fast for the tracks to handle, the trolley was thrown to its side on the street. The outlaw was hurled forward before falling to his side. “Jesus…” He groaned, crawling out of the streetcar.

Dutch remained where he had been tossed,  holding his head in his hands. “Dutch?” Arthur yelled as he reloaded his gun, firing back at the police as they swarmed them from all sides. 

Dutch moaned something intelligible to the gunners. “We need to get him out of here. You still alive, Lenny?” Switching to his rifle, Arthur began aiming for the lawmen on the balconies and roofs of the buildings.

“I’m here! I’m okay, but we got to move fast. Pinkertons are definitely gonna catch wind of this,” Lenny shouted from behind some crates. Spitting out a string of curse words, Arthur angrily pushed forward while Lenny helped Dutch.

He should’ve never gone with Dutch on this job. Dutch had trusted Angelo Bronte was telling the truth when in reality he had been stringing them along. They were idiots to think the Italian man would let them take money from the city he owned. Most of all, he was angry with himself. 

It must’ve been noon by then. If you had completely lost your sanity, you would’ve been waiting for him where he told you he’d be. If you hadn’t already been mad as hell with him before, you had to be now. He should’ve listened to Hosea when he had the chance.

“There’s a wagon up over there. If you cover us I think I can get Dutch in the back,” Lenny suggested, to which Arthur quickly agreed. Arthur proceeded to fire back at the police, allowing Lenny the chance to move a groggy Dutch into the wagon. Briskly following behind, Arthur jumped onto the wagon. The horses were quickly startled into pulling them forward while the police scurried to catch up to them.

They maneuvered the wagon as efficiently as they could with all the obstacles in their way, leading Arthur to wonder if word had gotten to you by now. He would rather you unleash your anger on him than be disappointed in him. God, your disappointment killed him. Arthur hated to be anything less than the man you deserved, but time and time again he seemed to always fall short.

“Arthur! They shot off our wheel!” Lenny held a tight grip on the reins, struggling to keep control before ultimately crashing into an alley. Dutch thankfully hadn’t been too affected by the crash, but was definitely unfit to fight off anyone. 

“Take him and get out of here. I’m gonna lead em’ away.” Arthur placed a hand on Lenny’s shoulder. “Keep him safe.” 

Giving a quick nod, Lenny dragged Dutch away until they were out of sight. Arthur ran the opposite way, taking the attention of the few lawmen that remained on their tail. He eventually killed them off one by one until he was left aching on the floor clutching his side. 

“Ah, shit,” He hissed, hunching over as he got up. A bullet had grazed his side at some point in his long fight with the law and the adrenaline coursing through his veins hadn’t allowed him to notice until that point.

Huffing, Arthur leaned against the wall staring down at the men he had killed. Was it realistic to believe they could actually make it out alive to Tahiti? As much as Arthur wanted to believe him, he saw no reality where Dutch would be happy as a mango farmer. The outlaws’ quick tempers would inevitably lead to someone dead in the street. 

“Take what you’ve got and don’t look back.”

He hadn’t gotten much money from the heist, but he did have a few trinkets in his satchel that were worth good money. It might be enough to help the pair of you get away while the police were still searching. God, with you he could try to be a better man. He could find a real job, one that wouldn’t leave a target on your backs. Or you could go off into the woods and let your only company be the deers–he’d go anywhere, do anything, if it meant he would be by your side. 

Breaking his heart from knowing who he’d be leaving behind, Arthur made the decision to be loyal to what truly mattered to him. 

Stumbling away, Arthur forced himself to fight the ache in his bones to get to you. It was no guarantee you’d still be there–if you were ever there at all. No, he didn’t have time to let himself doubt. Weaving through the backstreets full of passing immigrants until he was forcibly grabbed and pulled to the side. Before he could whip out his pistol, your voice stopped him.

“Arthur! Oh, thank god you’re alright! You stupid man, I had no idea where you were and I was looking all over–”

Before you could ramble any further he pulled you against him and embraced you tightly, ignoring the pain. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, letting your suitcase fall to your feet as you took him in. He was alive. Your Arthur was alive–seemingly hurt–but alive nonetheless.

“You stupid man.” You murmured into his chest, earning a low chuckle from your lover. “S’fine. We’re gonna be okay.” Arthur pressed a shaky kiss to your temple. He could finally breathe again.

“We need to get out of here. You’re hurt–you need help.” You pulled back to examine him, a worried look spreading across your face. “Arthur–” He stopped you with a kiss, taking you by shock.

“M’sorry. I’ve been waiting for so long I didn’t know when I’d get to do that again.” If he’d ever get to do that again. Resting your forehead against his, you let a moment of silence pass. You were together again.

Despite his struggle, Arthur picked up your suitcase and led you to the outskirts of the city, dodging the policemen as best as he could. He had to do his best to avoid trouble now because he held his entire world in his hand. Arthur was responsible for taking care of you now and he’d damn well shoot himself in the foot before he let anything happen to you.

“Is this really happening? I can’t even believe it…I love you Arthur. I’m still mad you were dumb enough to try shooting your way out of the city, but I’ll be mad at you later.” You squeezed his hand with a giddy smile on your face.

“I’ll do better. I…I want to do better for you. I love you.” He gave you a small smile. You spent the rest of the walk to his horse out of the city telling him all the things you wanted to do now that you were starting your lives together.

He could spend the rest of his life listening to you talk. Hanging his hat on the wall, leaving his criminal lifestyle would be hard to leave behind, but for you he’d do it a million times over. He’d do anything to make you happy and now he finally could.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

i hope you're having a lovely day, blusy!!

can you write about donna and reader having drunk sex and donna was so wild that night that angie, who was sleeping in the room next door, was traumatized. she complained about it the next day but the two can't remember anything because of how drunk they were. and basically reader and donna tried to make up to her by showering her with gifts and doing anything she requests them to do.

angie thought that was the end of it but they did it again the next day 😭 can you make the making-up-to-angie part fluffy? i love your works!!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your kindness and for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))))

Angie's revenge

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of explicit smut, Minors DNI, alcohol, fluff

Word count: 7,332

Summary: Maybe to drink that liquor wasn't a good idea...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific…” the Duke murmured with that arrogant, third-rate merchant voice.

“If I had a clear idea I wouldn't be asking you, would I?” you said, always watching the door to avoid prying eyes behind it.

“You said you wanted something special and that is a very… abstract concept,” the merchant said with a smug smile.

“Mm, I'm sure what you want is information,” you whispered with a confident look, crossing your arms.

“Information? No, Miss, how can you think something like that?” the Duke said, shaking his head but not removing that horrible smile from his horrible face.

You sighed, rolling your eyes without stopping looking around.

“Okay,” you said, defeated, lowering the tone of your voice. “Tonight marks one year since I've been living with Donna and I wanted to celebrate it with a special dinner,” you explained with an angry hiss.

 Of course, giving information about your private life to that man was the last thing you wanted to do at that moment.

“Oh, a romantic dinner?” the Duke asked, arching his eyebrows unpleasantly.

“No, it's a dinner to look into our eyes and tell us how much we hate each other,” you said ironically, shaking your head. “Of course it's a romantic dinner.”

The Duke laughed scandalously, satisfied with your embarrassment.

“I've always valued people who master the subtle art of sarcasm,” he commented, with a curious look. “It's not very common around here.”

“Yeah, okay, great,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Well, if you value it that much, please help me.”

“I still don't know what you're looking for,” he repeated, with a dark look of satisfaction.

“You know what? I was planning on spending a lot of lei, but I think some nice words will do the trick,” you said in a cocky tone, taking the rest of the order and walking towards the entrance.

“Words are carried away by the wind, Miss (Y/N),” the Duke intervened, visibly nervous, as always when money was mentioned.

“Yes, yes, you can’t be. You can rest assured,” you joked in a disinterested way.

“You're so funny,” the merchant said, laughing. “It’s a pity because I just remembered that I had something special around here.”

“You'd sell your mother for a handful of coins,” you grumbled, leaving the boxes back on the floor.

“Mother? Well, I can't say if your statement is correct since I don't remember if I ever had a mother,” the Duke said, rummaging through his carriage. “Let's see...”

“Something special,” you said with an impatient voice, looking at the old clock in the hall. It wasn't long before Donna came up from the workshop, you'd have to be quick.

“Something special,” the fat man repeated, grabbing a bottle. “I think this is what you’re looking for,” he said finally, extending that bottle with a yellow liquid.

You frowned and took the object, moving it to agitate the liquid inside.

“What is this?” you asked curiously, removing the cork from the bottle and bringing it to your nose. “Lemonade?”

“Not exactly, Miss,” the Duke said, raising and lowering his eyebrows. “Smell it.”

“Ugh,” you said wrinkling your nose when the alcohol traveled through your airways. “Liquor”

“Not just any liquor, dear,” the merchant murmured, moving in the carriage. “Limoncello.”

“Lemon what?” you asked, covering up that pleasant smell again.

“It's a traditional Italian lemon-based liquor, it was Mister Beneviento's favorite,” he commented, watching satisfied as you nodded slowly. “I think it's perfect to make that dinner… A little more special.”

“Yes, maybe,” you said with a murmur. Well, at least it was something. “See how it wasn't that difficult?” you joked, throwing that greedy being another bag of coins.

“If it was difficult for me to do business, I would have dedicated myself to something different, don't you think?” the Duke laughed, amused, counting the coins.

“I don't intend to thank you,” you said with a cocky voice. “Seriously, why do you want so much money?”

“I like money,” the man answered, amused.

“Yeah, okay, great, great...” you murmured, shaking your head and turning slowly. “Well, you can go now.”

“One last thing, Miss...” he commented as he turned the carriage, bringing his eyes to the bottle of liquor. “Be very careful with that, don't drink too much...”

“Yes, yes, yes…” you sighed, nodding reluctantly and entering the mansion, ignoring the merchant's sinister laughter. “Damn, I'm starting to think that Donna only wants me to negotiate with this vermin.”

“Don't say that, tesoro,” a hoarse voice interrupted your stammering and protests. The lady in black was waiting standing in front of you. As always when she appeared, your lips could only smile.

“Oh, Donna, don't look, don't look,” you said, hiding the bottle and walking towards her, comically covering her eye as you walked. “That's it… Straight ahead, watch out for the door,” you said amused, guiding the blind lady towards the hallway.

“What are you up to, (Y/N)?” she asked amused.

You put on your best innocent face and shrugged.

“Nothing, nothing…” you said amused, putting the bottle in one of the boxes and picking them up from the floor. “I'll go to put the groceries in the kitchen… Wait for me here.”

The lady in black laughed shyly as she watched you with that face you fell in love with, that beautiful and wounded face that for you, was the most beautiful.

They always told you that time passed quickly, without mercy, without letting you enjoy every moment. You never believed it.

You thought that time was just a transit, something that had no remedy, that became slow and lazy to make you feel even more sadness and apathy. They were right. A year used to be long. It used to take its time to pass before your eyes but… That year, that precise year, passed like a shooting star.

You were never anyone special, daughter of farmers, devotee of the Black Gods and Mother Miranda (you didn’t have another option either). Your life passed slowly, showing you the darkest side of it, the desperation of not being understood, the construction of your friends' lives, something you couldn’t do.

You had different interests. Marrying a lout and starting a family was certainly not among your priorities. You just wanted to find someone with whom you could share your disagreement with the established order, someone who, like you, didn’t see life as a gift from the Black Gods, but as a slow and tedious sentence.

But one day, the day when your clumsiness made you stumble upon the worst possible person, that day, you wished time would stop.

You were not alien to the Lords, or to Mother Miranda. They were shadows that lived with the villagers as a potential and imminent danger, even though the witch assured that they were only there to take care of you. You never believed that nonsense, you knew that the danger resided in each of the four Lords.

That woman you stumbled upon was one of them, the youngest, the most mysterious Lord, the ventriloquist, the doll maker, Donna Beneviento.

No one knew much about that woman, many even refused to look at her as a human being, it was rumored that beneath that dress, that black veil, there was a monster, a monster on the outside and on the inside. Suffering from mental illness since birth, Lady Beneviento became an even darker shadow, one that could hide the brightest sun.

With everything in your mind, your legs began to shake and you started to think that just getting in her way would mean an eternity of suffering. It wasn't like that.

Your innocent smile and the wit you were blessed with caught her attention enough to not want to kill you. She wasn't the only one who saw something in you, you did too.

A soul mate, destiny… You couldn't really say why during a conversation your lips met, why that veil disappeared to reveal the true meaning of beauty, of love.

It had been a year since that kiss turned life into something wonderful for you. You stopped being the simple (Y/N) to live with her in that incredible, secluded mansion.

Living with Donna (and Angie) was a challenge that you overcame little by little. Her shadows, her torments played with your feelings but you never cared, you would always take care of her, and she of you.

There was no monster under the black cloth, but a beautiful and tender woman, dangerous but loving, an incredible woman who little by little became the woman of your life.

That night was definitely special, it was the celebration of that year with her, of the time you had spent loving her more and more each day.

“More wine, tesoro?” the lady in black asked, romantically illuminated by the candlelight. You nodded pleased, extending your glass towards the lady.

“Everything was delicious, Donna,” you sighed grateful for that special dinner. She looked at you and smiled sheepishly, shaking her head.

“There's no need to be accommodating, (Y/N), you tell me that every night,” she whispered, sighing almost as if it were your first date.

“Oh, well…” you joked, arching your eyebrows. “I guess it's already a habit.”

“I, I can't believe you've been with me for a year,” the lady commented, with a slightly sadder look, with the shadows of her demons surrounding her like merciless crows. “I just find it hard to believe.”

“Why? I love you, you make me happy… Why wouldn't I want to be with you for 50 or better, 70 more years? 100?” you said amused, pretending a thoughtful look.

Donna's soft laugh reached your ears, increasing the intensity of your smile, the brightness of your eyes.

“I don't understand,” she said, sighing again, bringing her glass of wine to her lips. “You're a beautiful girl. You shouldn't waste your time with me.”

“Are you kidding?” you asked, dispelling her insecurities in a subtle way. “You're a Lord, you're beautiful... You say beautiful Italian things to me...”

She shook her head, without making her tender smile disappear.

“I don't think these are enough reasons,” the lady in black murmured.

You, fearing a possible tense moment, reached out your hand to hers, caressing it gently.

“Hey, honey... I love you, do you hear me? I love you just the way you are...” you whispered romantically, seeing how the lady had trouble controlling the sadness, the desperation for how unfair life was to her.

“(Y/N), me… Me too,” Donna said, blinking erratically, slowly regaining her composure and relaxing her breathing, which was already beginning to become dangerously labored.

“Me too!” an annoying squeak made you pull your hand back, startling you.

Of course, of course, Angie couldn't leave you two alone at a special romantic dinner. Seriously, she couldn't.

“Angie…” you groaned, annoyed by that interruption.

“Ohhhh, is that a cheesecake?” the doll asked, comically peeking over the table.

“Angie, leave us alone, will you?” the lady said, annoyed by the lack of soft caresses on her hand.

“You're always alone!” the puppet protested, with an unpleasant squeak. “Donna, Donna, do you even remember that I exist too?”

“Yes, Angie,” the doll maker said, shaking her head. “But now is not the time.”

“So when is it? You’re neglecting me! Bad Donna, Silly Donna!” Angie shrieked again.

You rolled your eyes and picked up your piece of dessert, trying hard to ignore the doll.

Luckily, Angie seemed to get tired of you two and disappeared with a comical grumble, which made you genuinely laugh.

“She’s mad…” you joked.

“She’ll get over it,” she said.

“Oh, that's right,” you said, clapping your hands and searching for something under the table, something you had hidden. “Look what I have.”

“Mm?” the lady murmured, reaching out her hand to take the bottle and look at it carefully. “What is it?”

“I think you know…” you said in an expectant tone, raising and lowering your eyebrows. “Open the cap.”

Donna obeyed and smiled in a tender way, as if that citrus aroma reminded her of better times, times gone by.

“Limoncello…” she said in a low voice. “My father used to drink it after eating… It brings back memories to me…”

“Good memories? Please, tell me I haven't made a mistake…” you sighed, hoping that the nostalgia wasn't dangerous, that it was a healthy one.

The doll maker seemed calm, test passed.

“You had a great idea, tesoro… Let me go to get some iced glasses,” she said, standing up and leaning towards you to kiss your lips softly, with that softness that made you tremble.

“Okay,” you said smiling, enjoying a soft caress on your cheek.

The liquor went down your throat in a cool, pleasant way. You had to admit that the Duke had a great idea, Donna seemed happy.

Glass after glass, the conversation moved to your reading corner. A conversation full of words of love, of shy laughs, one that pleasantly reminded you of your first dates.

“Hey, give me another one,” you said amused, extending the small glass towards the brunette, who frowned with a smile and slightly blushed cheeks.

“It's the fourth one, amore mio…” she stammered, pouring you another drink, slurring her words.

“How many have you had?” you asked playfully, giving her a little teasing nudge as she frowned and counted on her fingers.

“Quattro…” she muttered in confusion, shaking her head. “I, I guess it’s not too much.”

“No,” you said laughing, hiccupping unintentionally. “But maybe we should calm down a bit… How strong is this?”

The lady shrugged in a playful pose as you leaned back on the couch, blinking seductively.

“Donna…” you purred, running a finger along her skin erratically, tickling her. “You know what? You look hot today…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed with a shy smile, sipping from her glass.

“What? Can't I say that my girlfriend is hot?” you protested jokingly, pretending to pout.

It was becoming easier for you to joke or say exactly what you thought, was it because of the liquor?

“Girlfriend?” Donna asked, turning quickly, her face revealing her incipient drunkenness. “Are you my… Girlfriend?”

“Yes…” you said, dragging your voice. “What else would I be? Your maid?”

Donna laughed strangely, shaking her head with a mischievous look.

“I want to tell you a secret…” she whispered, gesturing for you to come closer to her. The smell of alcohol was becoming more and more present in the living room, in that small corner.

 “Oh, a secret…” you said amused, hiccupping. “What secret?”

Donna bit her lip before speaking, covering your ear with her hot breath, one that paradoxically made you shiver.

“I wish you were my maid,” she whispered with a too marked accent, as if searching for words or controlling her language was being a bit difficult for her.

“Mmm,” you moaned sensually, looking into the lady's bright eye and positioning yourself on the couch on your knees, playfully. “Maid, huh?”

“Yes,” the lady said, nodding and playing with your hand, which wandered erratically over her body, playing with the buttons of her dress. “Maids have always turned me on…”

“Hey, Donna!” you said with an exaggerated squeal, surprised by that confession. “Wait, really?”

She faked an innocent face, a good girl look that clashed with that erotic statement.

“Well, well, so the liquor makes you say those things…” you purred again, with an overwhelming heat that made your clothes start to annoy you. “Well, let's drink…”

You awkwardly reached out to reach the bottle and poured two more glasses, which you drank at the same time, in one gulp, letting your throat get even more accustomed to that liquor.

“Come on, come on, keep telling me your fantasies with maids…” you said pushing the lady and climbing on top of her body, with both legs on either side of her hips. “If I were your maid… What would you do to me?”

“Oh, no, I don't want to, hic, be rude,” she said, shaking her head and hiccupping in the same way as you.

You glanced at the bottle, which barely had any of its contents left. Had you gone too far?

“Rude? Come on, tell me, tell me,” you insisted, moving up and down her body. “Look…” you said, keeping your back straight clumsily, raising your index finger and trying to focus your vision. “If you tell me, I’ll, hic, tell you a secret.”

Donna shook her head childishly, with a slightly sinister smile, blinking as if she had the same vision problems as you.

“No… It’s… Pri…Private…” she said, stammering, nervous about your subtle movements on her body, purposely provoking her.

“Donna, don’t be mean…” you complained with an exaggerated moan. “What would you do to me? Wait, wait, I’ll help you…”

Moving, you reached for the bottle again, drinking directly from it and tilting it so she could do the same.

“Finish it all, huh?” you said a bit dizzy, but with the same desire to play.

“Io non sono una bambina…” the lady protested, moving her hands to remove the bottle from her mouth. “Lasciami…”

“Oh… Excuse me, Lady Beneviento… Can I do anything else for you, my lady?” you joked, pretending an elegant voice, inevitably altered by alcohol.

“Taci,” Donna protested with a shy smile, with her cheeks red from drunkenness and that spicy conversation.

“Mmmm, so, maid… I like it,” you murmured thoughtfully, leaning towards her ear. “Would you like me to serve you, Donna? To please you?”

She nodded, panting from the alcoholic sensuality your blurry words conveyed.

“That seems very sexy to me…” you purred, biting her earlobe. “Tell me, if I were your maid, what would you do to me?”

“Mm,” she murmured, with the shadow of disinhibition shining in her only eye, which ran over your figure without any kind of qualms. “I would ask you to clean my dolls…”

“Oh,” you said amused, unintentionally beginning to gently swing your hips, to give yourself pleasure by rubbing them against her body.

“I would love to lift your dress and touch you and then… Put you on your knees and then you, hic, you…”

“I….?” you insisted.

She shook her head with an amused gasp and you protested with a grunt, moving your hips faster.

“Donna…” you said with a sad, demanding tone.

“Use your, hic, imagination” Donna said, laughing amused, putting her hands on your hips so your movements wouldn’t stop. “(Y/N)…”

“Do you like this, darling?” you asked, dragging out your words, biting your lip. “Oh, yes, you like it…”

“You're drunk,” the lady said with a serious tone, but without stopping moving, dancing with your body. “You’ve drunk too much.”

“I guess you haven't, huh?” you joked, putting a finger on her nose, intensifying the drunken look that you endured with a spark of desire.

“I'm a fancy lady,” she protested. “You're not.”

“That hurt,” you said, pretending to stab yourself in the chest. “Let's see, hic, if you're right, I'm going to c… C…Confess my secret to you,” you said, having difficulty pronouncing words clearly.

“With me you don't have... Se...Secrets...” she stammered, frowning and shaking her head, trying to clear the alcoholic haze that was surely clouding her reasoning.

“You think so, huh?” you said amused, leaning back to her ear, licking your lips. “Listen to me... My secret is... I love the taste of your pussy...”

“(Y/N)!” the lady shrieked, with a surprised expression, shaking her head. “Don’t, don't say such rude things... Cazzo...”

“Oh, rude things, huh? Well, you should know that I can’t only say them, I can also do them...”

That was the last sentence you said. Instantly, you threw yourself at her lips, letting your bodies sway more intensely, stealing heat from each other. The kisses tasted of citrus, of the liquor you had consumed. They were clumsy, erratic, almost guided by a primary instinct and not by desire.

“(Y/N)…” the lady protested when your boldness unbuttoned her dress, when your alcoholic kisses began to run over her skin and your hands traveled up her legs.

“Shhh, silence, my lady… I want to fulfill your wish,” you said, going down, lifting the black skirt, making the doll maker uncomfortable.

She protested with a moan.

Her complaints didn’t stop you. You continued with the path that your kisses marked on her skin, moving aside any fabric that dared to get in your way.

“Cazzo!” she shrieked when your tongue made contact with her wet folds, with the desire you could taste between her legs. “More, more!”

Her screams had nothing to do with the romantic Donna she used to be when turning off the light and joining your bodies. Her moans were wild and rude words came out discreetly from her mouth.

You laughed, trying to concentrate on your task, licking her clit, unleashing those wild  moans again before inserting two of your fingers by surprise. Her movements were uncontrollable and her hand pulled at your hair while Donna writhed in pleasure at the skill of your techniques.

The moans echoed through the walls but you barely heard them. Everything was like a blurry vision of what was happening. You moaned feeling her fingers inside of you too, feeling how her body asked for more while stimulating yours.

Kisses, hugs, moans… Nothing that happened seemed to have meaning, seemed to be related. It was like a drunken mess of love and passion, a wild, almost uncontrollable one. The moans were outrageous.

Her body moved crazily on top of yours while your wetness rubbed against each other, while you caressed each other fiercely.

“Sto per venire!” the lady shrieked, tilting her head up as you attacked again with your tongue, running over her excited wetness, that delicious taste mixed with the liquor. “(Y/N), (Y/N)! Keep going, keep going!” she screamed, echoing off the walls of the mansion, accompanied shortly after by several deep, crazy moans, the most outrageous orgasm you had ever heard.

Your release also came or so you thought, as you rubbed yourself against her leg, while your wetness made her skin shine. After that, your mind relaxed, causing the dizziness you felt to become unbearable.

The lady was lying on the couch, running an erratic hand through her hair, across her sweaty forehead, gesturing for you to lie down next to her.

“I want to… Dormire…” Donna murmured, drawing her legs up and turning around tiredly. The alcohol had already completely finished her off, just like it did to you.

“What do you want…? I don’t unders….Underst…Understand, hic,” you asked walking clumsily naked through that corner, grabbing a blanket from an armchair and letting yourself fall on the sofa, covering your bodies with it.

Your eyes closed and the dizziness calmed down, giving way to an inevitable darkness.

The sound of birds attacked your hearing, your head. Your whole body was in pain, your head was throbbing and your throat was burning. It took a while for your vision to focus properly, to see the morning light coming through a living room window.

You looked down and gasped in surprise. You were naked, on the sofa, covered by a blanket. Next to you, breathing deeply, was Donna, also naked, with her body shrunken surely due to the cold that was beginning to make your skin crawl.

“Shit…” you whispered, running a hand through your head, rubbing your eyes. “What the…?”

When you turned your head, sighing, you saw on the coffee table the culprit of that terrible discomfort: the almost empty bottle of limoncello. Your mouth still tasted of that liquor, but your memory was hurt. You didn't remember anything of what had happened.

You shook your head and turned around concentrating to find out what had led you to be like this. The clothes on the floor, the nakedness... Well, at least there were things that were quite clear...

“Donna... Hey, Donna...” you said with a hoarse voice, pushing the body of the lady, who growled annoyed.

You sighed again and shrugged, covering yourself better with the blanket. Surely you should sleep a little more.

Small steps on the wood made you open your eyes again. A soft whistle came from Angie, who walked with small jumps through the house. You followed her with your eyes until she climbed onto the dining chair, glancing at you briefly.

“What…?” you asked weakly, watching the puppet's gestures.

Angie laughed evilly, reaching out to one of the pots hanging from the ceiling wood, unhooking it from its place and looking at you again.

“Oh, no… No… No…” you said, shaking your head at her intentions. “Angie, don’t…”

The doll nodded mockingly and, grabbing the pot with both hands, threw it to the floor, causing a terribly unpleasant noise that tortured your ears.

“Angie!” you shrieked, pressing your temples hard to mitigate the pain the noise caused in your hungover head.

“Non sono stato io!” the nervous lady said, waking up abruptly, wrinkling her forehead and bringing her hand to her black hair. “Oh… Ho mal di testa…”

“Donna…” you sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Tell me you remember anything that happened last night…”

“Last night? No, Io… My, my whole body hurts… I don’t feel well…” she murmured, shaking her head and looking at herself, covering her body immediately. “Why am I naked?”

“Great, I don’t know,” you said, with the same broken voice, exhausted and in pain. “The only thing I remember is that liquor…” you whispered, pointing at the bottle.

“Mm…” she murmured, closing her eye so the pain would calm down. It wasn’t going to do it. “Maledizione…”

“Well, I remember talking something about a maid, but that doesn’t explain why we’re naked on the couch…” you said thoughtfully. “Gods… What a hangover…”

“A maid? No, I don’t remember,” Donna said, covering you affectionately. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“We should have thought about that before sleeping here, naked,” you groaned, frustrated at not being able to remember. “Wait, have we…?”

“I don't know…” the sleepy lady whispered, annoyed even by the soft volume of your voice. “I can't remember.”

“Ahem,” a shrill voice said, the Angie doll, who was walking towards you with her arms crossed. “It seems that you have amnesia, don't you? How convenient…”

“Angie…” Donna sighed, annoyed by the high-pitched tone of her doll's voice. “Shut up, please…”

“Oh, you want me to shut up, huh, silly Donna?” the doll mocked, climbing onto the coffee table and pacing around it haughtily. “Then I suppose you don't want to know what happened last night.”

Donna and you looked at each other, frowning.

“Do you know?” you asked, holding the blanket and sitting upright on the couch.

“Do I know?” Angie asked, pointing at herself. “You've traumatized me, stupid!”

“Don't yell…”Donna and you whispered in unison, shaking your heads with a painful sob.

“It's been the worst experience of my life, Donna! Since when do you say such dirty things?” the doll asked, pointing at her owner, who shrank on the couch, comically hiding behind your back.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” the lady said nervously, starting to blush. You looked at her with the same confused expression.

“Oh, allow me to explain it to you,” the puppet said, pretending to clear her throat. “More, (Y/N), more! Faster, fuck me like the filthy maid you are! That's it, use your mouth, doll, eat me out!”

“Basta, basta, Angie,” Donna said hurriedly, shaking her head effusively. “I couldn't say that.”

“Couldn’t you? Oh, and you too, you Donna-stealer,” Angie said pointing at you. “Yes, Donna, deeper, deeper, use me like the doll I am!”

“Hey, shut up now, is this a joke?” you protested also embarrassed. Well, at least that fit with your nakedness, and clothes on the floor. “Oh, shit… She heard us,” you whispered to the lady in black, who sank in the couch.

“I heard you and the whole village too, I'm pretty sure,” the doll said, crossing her arms. “What are you up to? I mean, to add more things to the fact that you don't stop ignoring me, you have to rub your obscenities right in my face, huh?”

“Angie, it, it wasn't on purpose,” Donna said, stammering. “It was the limoncello…”

“Of course, blame it on the alcohol,” the doll mocked, pointing at the bottle. “You're a couple of drunken nymphomaniacs! I hate you!”

“Angie, wait,” the lady in black murmured, leaning over the doll as Angie angrily climbed down from the table, disappearing from the room. “Don't hate me…”

It might have seemed like one of Angie's passing tantrums, one of her calls for attention, but she was pretty serious that time. She didn't show up for the whole morning. Donna wanted to pretend she didn't care, but her face said it all.

“Grazie, tesoro…” the lady murmured as you poured her some medicine for that horrible headache, one that you also took.

“Honey, you're worried,” you said in a soft voice, sitting next to her on the couch. Poor Donna was so sick that she couldn't even work on her dolls. You should have listened to the Duke's advice.

“It's nothing,” she whispered, drinking the medicine and rubbing her forehead.

“It's because of Angie, isn't it?” you asked in a more tender voice, looking for the doll with your eyes. She wasn't there.

Donna nodded slowly, squeezing her eye tightly.

“I've never seen her that mad,” she said, looking at the ceiling, letting you hug and caress her in a comforting way. “I can't believe we... Cazzo...”

“Well, it was a mistake, neither of us intended to traumatize her, it was a horrible mistake,” you said, with an amused smile, lifting her chin and kissing her deformed cheek, one of her favorite gestures of affection.

She smiled slightly, but shook her head.

“The... incident last night wouldn't be so important if... If she wasn't right,” the lady said, with a tired sigh.

“What do you mean?”

“Angie has always been with me, since I was 6 years old she has been inseparable for me,” the brunette began, looking at the floor, remembering… “She was my only friend and, I, I was so happy when I could give her life… She was my companion, my faithful companion…”

“Mm, I understand,” you said softly.

“You came into my life to turn everything upside down, you know? Don't get me wrong, I don't know what I would do without you but… It's, it's true that I may have neglected Angie,” Donna said, to which you smiled tenderly. “I used to play with her before, talk for hours… And now, it's, it's true that I don't pay as much attention to her and on top of that… On top of that last night… Oh, mio Dio… How embarrassing…”

“Don't blame yourself, Donna, we are both guilty of not having control,” you said softly, rubbing her back.

“I can't imagine how humiliating it was for Angie to see me… like this…” the ventriloquist lamented, burying her face in her hands.

“Well… If you're so worried…” you sighed thoughtfully, controlling the pain in your head. “Why don't we do something for her?”

“Now it's really getting interesting…” a mocking voice appeared by surprise.

Angie, who seemed to be listening (to no one's surprise) suddenly appeared, walking while laughing mockingly and jumping onto Donna's lap.

“Hey, were you spying on us?” you asked amused, trying not to be unpleasant.

“Yes, although last night you put me off doing it anymore,” the puppet said.

Donna smiled tenderly, carefully placing Angie's clothes.

“Perdonami, Angie… I didn't mean to make you feel that way,” the lady said, apologizing sincerely.

“Mm, it's too soon to accept your apologies, silly Donna…” the doll said with a cocky tone, but not getting off her lap. “But I’ve heard something I liked…”

“Let me guess, it's when I said we should do something for you, am I wrong?” you said with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile.

“I think we're starting to understand each other, you silly intruder…” Angie murmured in a sinister voice.

“What do you want?” Donna asked, staring at her, frowning. “We'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

“Well, whatever…” you murmured, catching the doll's attention, who turned her head sharply.

“Do you want me to forgive you, stupid fools?” Angie asked mockingly, standing on Donna's legs. You both nodded automatically. “Well, I want… I want… I want… Oh! Get up.”

You and Donna looked at each other but obeyed. The doll sat on the couch, swinging her legs expectantly.

“Do you remember the puppet show you did when you were 17, silly Donna?” Angie asked, pointing at the brunette, who frowned.

“Yes, of course I remember them,” she said, in a seemingly calm voice. “The Mighty Angie versus the Moon Monsters.”

“Yes, that's it, that's it!” the doll said.

You looked at the lady, confused.

“I want you two to make me a puppet show, I want one of those stories like the ones Donna told me,” the doll demanded, tilting her head.

“What is she talking about?” you asked in a small voice. “A puppet show? It must be a joke.”

“I'm afraid it’s not, tesoro…” the lady sighed, crossing her arms. “Okay, Angie.”

“Well, I'll go get the stuff, you two should do some… Rehearsing…”

The Angie doll ransacked the whole house to take out an old, hand-made stage along with two puppets. One was Angie herself, and the other was a deformed monster.

“Here,” Donna said, putting the stage on the floor and handing that horrible monster you.

“Wait, wait,” you said nervously. “Hey, Donna, I have no idea how to do this, besides, why do I have to be this bug thing?”

“No complaints, silly (Y/N)! Only my Donna can be the Mighty Angie!” the doll protested. You growled annoyed by the irritating voice that still made a dent in your wounded head.

“Calm down, tesoro, you'll see that it's easy,” Donna said, concentrated, touching up the last details of that scenario and kneeling behind it. “Come, kneel with me.”

“Donna, I don't know what this Mighty Angie thing is about,” you said gently, making the gesture of quotation marks with your fingers. “What do I do?”

“I'm waiting…” the doll hummed impatiently, making you growl again.

“I'm coming,” you said in a gruff tone.

Donna smiled at you and reassured you with a soft kiss on your lips.

“You'll do very well, amore mio,” the lady said with a tender voice. It even seemed that somehow she was happy to do that. You thought it was simply adorable.

It was quite difficult at first, but soon you were able to improvise that show. Donna was giving voice to the puppet, which, of course, was the great heroine of the story.

“Get back, stupid moon monster! You don't know who you're messing with,” the Mighty Angie said said approaching where you were sticking the puppet out.

 Seeing Donna doing those things always amused you. You wondered why a woman so cheerful and funny on the inside, was so gloomy on the outside.

“So you are the Mighty Angie,” you said, getting into the role of a dangerous monster, deepening your voice in a way that made you blush. Luckily, Angie couldn't see you. “Surely you're not as mighty as they say... Um... Um... Ha, ha, ha...” you laughed evilly

“You think so, huh? Haven't they taught you manners in your cave, you disgusting bug? Don't worry. I'll take care of that.”

Donna brought her puppet closer to yours, pretending to fight, even making sounds and growls in a really impressive way. She certainly had a talent for that stuff.

“You won’t beat me, you space leech!” Angie’s puppet shrieked, struggling with yours.

“You think you’re so powerful, huh? You’ll never be able to beat me!” the moon monster said laughing evilly as your blush disappeared.

“No, Mighty Angie, it’s provoking you! You’re stronger than it!” the real Angie shrieked, waving her arms excitedly.

“Oh, so you have allies…” you murmured, turning the puppet towards the couch, pointing at Angie with one of its tentacles. “Maybe I should finish them off first…”

“Never!” the other puppet exclaimed, lunging at yours. “Aha, that’s your weak point! Your force shield doesn't cover your back!”

You looked at Donna in confusion and she shrugged, laughing in amusement. You smiled too. You weren't having a bad time after all.

“Oh no, she's figured it out! Mighty Angie, spare my life, I'll leave this planet forever,” you said in a pleading tone, bringing the puppet's tentacles together.

“Too late, space slug!” the small puppet screamed before launching itself at yours for the final attack.

“Oh no… I'm dying…” you said, feigning agony and dropping the monster on the stage.

“Good! Good!” Angie clapped. “Mighty Angie is invincible! That was great, you fools!”

“Ugh,” you sighed, standing up and removing the puppet from your hand, helped by the lady, who did the same, shaking your clothes.

“You haven't been too bad, have you? You're good at it,” Donna commented, bringing her puppet closer to pretend to eat you. “Yum, yum.”

You laughed shyly under her warm smile, approaching her and kissing her tenderly on the lips.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” Angie protested, getting off the couch and pushing her owner's legs away from you. “No kisses, silly fools!”

“Oh, come on, we've told you a great story,” you said amused, finally moving away from the lady in black.

“Do you accept my apologies now, Angie?” Donna asked, with a pleading look, extending her hand towards the puppet's.

“Mm, let me think... No, I don’t”

“You don’t?” you two asked at the same time.

“Um, it seems that you don't realize the seriousness of your actions, you drunken fools... If you think that with that show you're going to make me forget about last night, you can wait for it,” Angie said, pretending to look at her nails.

“Angie, we've done what you wanted, hey, we need to rest for a while,” you said, with the kindest voice possible.

“No sleeping!” the puppet shrieked, making the pain return to your head. Donna and you groaned at those shrieks. “You're going to do what I tell you or I won't forgive you.”

“I'm starting to think that it's not so bad having you hating us,” you murmured, crossing your arms. Donna approached, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Per favore, amore mio... Let's play along a bit longer. She'll soon get tired and leave us alone," Donna told you with a sincere look that exuded confidence.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, nodding slowly.

“Okay... Okay, Donna, I'll do it for you.”

That was the beginning of that hellish day.

Angie had taken absolute control of the Beneviento house. You and Donna showered her with little details, whims like balls of wool to play with, children’s games around the house...

Of course, Angie knew how she wanted to spend her time, she had an idea for every moment and you had no choice but to bow your heads and accept. Otherwise, Angie would start shouting the obscene phrases she heard the night before, something Donna couldn't stand.

Damn blackmailing doll...

“What are you doing? Keep fanning me, you fool,” the doll demanded while you fanned. She certainly looked like a queen from another time, even with her own private throne, one that Donna had to desperately search for in the attic.

“What’s the point of that? Can you even feel it?” you asked, sighing tiredly, lying on the floor in a humiliating manner.

The doll slowly turned towards you, with a look you already knew.

“Oh, Donna, use your tongue on my…!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll fan you…” you said annoyed, earning a sinister laugh from the doll.

Your body hadn’t yet recovered from the hangover and, after hours of playing hide and seek, you were increasingly tired. It seemed that Angie didn’t want to waste a single minute of her glorious day.

“But, don't, yell, please,” you hissed while moving your hand.

Donna appeared shortly after, holding a small doll in her hands.

“Here it is,” she murmured, crouching down next to you and giving the toy to Angie. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes!” Angie shouted, getting down from the throne and picking up the small doll. “How pretty it is!” she exclaimed, hugging her gift.

Donna laughed amused, unable to hide her tiredness.

“Thank you…” the doll sighed, hugging her owner in a tender way, like you had never seen before. You smiled too and even more so when Angie walked towards you, giving you the same hug. “Hey, you're being very good to me, fools.”

“I never thought I'd say this but…” you murmured, hugging the doll back. “The truth is that you are adorable when you want to.”

“What nonsense, I always am,” the doll said, gesturing with her hand and playing with her new doll.

“Have fun with your new doll, I think we…” Donna said, taking your hand to get you up and yawning comically. “Are going to take a nap…”

“No way,” Angie protested, with that sinister tone again. “Don't you know what time it is, silly Donna?”

“No…” the lady sighed frowning, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck sweetly.

“Tea time!”

“No, Angie, please…” you sighed, putting a hand on your forehead.

Of course, you had to have tea with her and her dolls… That was the worst part.

“Do you want some sugar Mrs. Thin Butts?” the doll asked, playing with her toy tea set. If only it had been real tea…

You looked at poor Donna who, due to exhaustion, had fallen asleep leaning against the sofa, her head resting on her hand.

“Mrs. Thin Butt…” you said through your teeth, nudging her awake.

“Dove siamo?” she asked, shaking her head.

“I say if you wanted sugar, silly!” Angie shrieked, eliciting another annoyed grunt from you.

Fortunately, that fake tea was the last of Angie’s demands. It took a whole day, but she finally got tired of torturing you.

“Aren’t you having dinner, tesoro?” Donna asked, sitting down on the couch next to you, a plate of fruit on her lap.

“I’m not hungry,” you said in a husky voice, curling up on yourself on the couch. “Well, if you give me a piece of that apple…” you said, sitting up and taking the piece the lady cut with a knife, giving it to you in a romantic way.

“It’s been a rough day, hasn’t it?” she murmured, running a gentle hand through your hair. “Don’t worry, it’s over.”

“Yeah…” you sighed, glancing at the bottle of liquor that was still in its place. You felt a chill. “Remind me not to drink again…”

“My grandfather used to say that a glass of limoncello was perfect for a hangover,” Donna commented, taking the bottle.

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Even if that limoncello is the one to blame?” you joked.

The lady in black shrugged, uncorking the bottle and taking a sip.

“It’s better than last night… But it’s warm,” she said, making a face of disgust. “I’ll go get some cold glasses.”

“Bring me five,” you said, making a vague gesture with your hand.

It was obvious that you hadn’t learned from your mistakes and, when that bottle was already empty, the laughter and babbling reached the dark room again.

“Hey, hey, hey Donna…” you said, unable to stop laughing, climbing up her body again. “Shall I tell you a secret?”

The lady laughed with red cheeks again, with that sinister look that the liquor caused her.

A few quick steps made you look at Angie, who was running away in terror.

“Oh, no! Not again!”

[applestorms]

actually. @moonlarked you wanted someone to talk about near & light as parallels? cuz uh...

ok SO, my big hot take on near is something like this: one of the most common criticisms i see about near is that he is simply too apathetic/bored/uncaring/etc, and that because he is not as emotionally invested as L, his win against light doesn't feel nearly (lol) as satisfying as it could've been. this is a view that often frustrates me, but for a very particular reason— namely, while i think it is somewhat accurate in content, i think it misses a lot of important context (and also misses a lot of the importance of light's character arc, but we'll get to that much later).

one of the most important things to remember about the wammy's kids is that, whether they like it or not, each and every one of them is defined almost entirely through their relationship to L. this is perhaps more obvious in the case of characters like BB and mello, who are very Aware of this shadow being cast upon them and react in very overt, emotional ways (e.g. becoming a literal serial killer out of seemingly pure spite & desire to be noticed, idolizing him but in a very emotionally complicated, kinda detached sorta way, etc), but it is true for Every wammy's kid, purely because of how the house itself functions. these kids are being raised to be L's successor— the greatest (and second greatest, and third greatest) detective on the planet. this is the ultimate goal hanging over every one of their heads, and it places a constant pressure on every kid there.

oftentimes, i think (perhaps both out of story and in it, as well?) people get so caught up in comparing near to L that they forget he also falls under this umbrella— only, for near, his position is slightly different because he actually somewhat succeeds at the task? like, yeah, L never gets the chance to officially call near his successor, but between the fact that he's constantly called the #1 kid at wammy's and that he. literally does actually end up becoming the new L after kira, i think it's always been pretty clear what his path was going to be.

going back to my starting point, this is one of the main ways that near makes a really good parallel to light in my mind, specifically the light that we see right at the start of the series. in both cases, near and pre-DN light, we see a kid who has succeeded at everything they've been handed, and more notably, we see a kid who is bored out of his fucking mind looking at the prospects of what he's got.

in the case of light, this is maybe a little more realistic/easy to understand— light does well in academics, he does well in sports, he does well with people. he is likely to follow in his father's footsteps with something criminal justice/police/law related, but even if he diverges from that path it likely won't be too big of a deal, as he has shown himself to be capable in enough areas that he's likely to succeed no matter what. by all measurable standards, light's doing pretty good at the start of the series. and yet— there is something so distinctly and inherently Bland about his life before he gets the DN. i've said before that light wouldn't call the DN a curse even if he wanted to, but i think in that moment when he's telling ryuk he disagrees w/ his father after visiting him in the hospital, when he says, "I've never once considered finding that notebook and gaining this power a misfortune. In fact, it's made me happier than I've ever been." (ch.22) he's still getting at something real and truthful.

again, going back to my equating of boredom with depression in this series— light's life is pretty good by all measurable standards. he has a family who loves him, presumably more than enough money to get by with a pretty cushy lifestyle, and does well, honestly better than well, in every single system he is presented with. but even so, he's still unhappy. there is something in his soul that has not yet been satisfied. he's bored of the world, bored of his place in it, how easy it all is. what the DN really offers him is a challenge, entertainment— just the same as L, and just the same as ryuk.

near similarly suffers from this kind of boredom, though it is perhaps less overtly stated than in the case of light, L, and ryuk, and less easy to catch as it is not as realistic/common. again: near basically ends up the winner of wammy's house. he is the one to take the title of L, he's declared the smartest, bestest kid at wammy's, and he gets all the power and privilege that comes with such a title. but still— he's so. fucking. bored. much to the embarrassment of mello, this shit was never really a challenge to him. it's pretty obvious that near isn't really even all that attached to the title of L— don't forget that his first real introduction to the story involves him explicitly saying that he'd be just fine working with mello as essentially co-L successors. and this is a viewpoint that he holds onto until the very end of the series, actually, claiming that he was only able to best light due to mello's sacrifice. near doesn't really give a fuck about the rat race he's been slotted into, though it's perhaps for that exact reason that he ends up winning it anyway, and getting all the responsibility that comes along.

that being said, i think there are still two main differences between light and near:

light fucks up.

near never gets past his boredom.

in the case of this first point, i do not mean to say that near never ever makes any move/judgement that could be considered a mistake— mello killing the entire SPK is the first thing that comes to mind, which i see as blood on near's hands for the same reason that L takes at least some responsibility for lind l. tailor. rather, i mean that near never makes a such a monumental fuck-up that he has to overturn his entire worldview just to account for it in the same way that light does when he accidentally kills two people w/ the DN the first time.

it's like, if you've ever known (or been) the kind of kid who always got perfect grades in school, straights A's for K-12, only to reach college and suddenly bomb their first test and have an existential crisis as their only real achievement in life is crushed into dust, then you know light yagami. only for light, it's on a whole 'nother scale, because not only does he fucking oopsie daisy kill two people, but he kills in such a context that he can mentally manipulate it back into seeming heroic. i hate to say that suffering causes character development because that's terrible advice (it's how you react to terrible circumstances that matters, imho) but to some degree, yeah, having conflicts/hard times in life is just necessary to figure shit out sometimes. near (and L, oh goddd i need to write about L properly sometime) has so many things smoothed over and handed to him, and on top of that, he's a super genius very rarely fucks anything up, at least according to base logic. he doesn't even really consider the morality of anything he's doing until light straight up asks him in a desperate bid to keep talking at the end, it's all just logic and factors to consider.

this all leads to my second point, which is that near never really gets the chance to overcome his boredom in the same way as the others. ryuk at least gets his entertainment for a couple years, and light and L (and mello) get so invested in each other and their game that it literally kills them, but near just kinda. keeps going. he keeps being L, he keeps solving cases, he does the duty he was given and enjoys his toys... and that's it. he lies around, the only one left to live, never even taking credit for the end of KIRA, never gets another haircut, and keeps the title going. what a life, for a kid who dragged a god back down to earth.

sidenote1: toys

am i reading too into things? maybe. near's toys hold a lot of significance throughout the story in more specific ways, most notably the finger puppets he uses at the very end of the story while tracking different people's/kira's actions, though you could probably read some kind of meaning into every toy he has and the ways in which he plays with them. what i want to look at here though is more the general reasoning behind playing with them in the first place— a desire for a childhood he didn't get to have? a love of games more generally? (could track with him seeing the KIRA case, or really all detective work, as just another game.) you could also read into his toys as another source for near's apathy/detachment from reality, literally breaking every notable person around him down into a doll by the end of the story, speaking a lot to how alienated he is from the world (again, very similar to both L and light, there). i don't have much more of a point to make here, just wanted to add this in somewhere since it's one of his most striking visual character traits.

sidenote2: light's arc

going back to my point at the start of this post... light's character arc.

uhh. near winning is a good thing, actually. and i don't just mean that as a moral claim— DN itself as a story isn't really concerned with trying to answer any moral questions about good or evil or the justice system, so it makes sense & is fair to me that it doesn't try all that hard to answer anything along those lines by the very end of the story. what i mean to say here is that near winning is a good thing on the level of the character arc, specifically as an end to light's arc.

i made a post a while back while mid-manga reread talking through some of the reasons why L's death can feel kind of unsatisfying/paint the second half of the story in a less interesting light (hah) for a lot of viewers, with the main point i ended up on being that L wasn't really able to win because he never really had all that clear of a win state in the first place. i still kiiind of agree with this point, though i think there's a lot more i could add to that post... anyways. point is, i bring up that post because it touches on a similar thing to what i want to talk about here: light's character arc being a tragedy.

this is more speculation on my part, but i think another part of the reason why people get turned off to DN post-L death is not just the fact that L isn't really a playable character in the game anymore, but the fact that light's character arc takes such a dramatic twist after the timeskip. i talked about this a little bit in my little ramble on light & titles (which a lot of you liked, apparently!! ty for all the lovely comments on there, i love reading what you guys have to say ^w^), but light's character arc in DN is a tragedy to me, full-stop.

tragedies to me are cyclical— revolutionary, if you will. since all stories necessitate some kind of something to take place, a tragedy to me is all about a character beginning in one point, then continually getting hit by Event, after Thing, after Event, only to end up in essentially the exact same place that they started. any character changes or development that seem to happen throughout the story are ultimately nullified by the end— the main subject does not truly grow, does not truly reflect on their actions or traumas, does not move on. two steps forward is two steps back. even ending up in a position worse than they started is sometimes better than a true tragedy, in my mind, as at least then there is some chance they may still reflect or change or grow in the future, leaving the hope that they may still overcome this new circumstance later on. a true tragedy ends in nothing meaningful ever getting the chance to truly change, at least in the case of the main subject of the story.

light's character arc in the first half of the story is an upward, underdog kind of story. yes, light has the power of a shinigami, of a supernatural force that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists— but part of the real appeal of his conflict with L is how powerful L feels in comparison, having the wealth and respect and title to command a world's worth of forces against him. fuck, even taking down naomi misora feels like an incredible hurdle overcome, a teenager managing to charm and yap and flutter his eyelashes out of a shitty situation he was only just lucky enough to stumble across in the first place, to stop someone who could've ruined his entire plan with a few words. killing L was always going to be light's greatest accomplishment when it comes to his rise to godhood, not only because of L's great power but the comparative position of light at the time that he did so— not yet an adult, not even really out of school, perhaps barely out of his parents' house.

in contrast, light's arc for the second half of the story is a downward spiral. we see all of the consequences light has been miraculously avoiding smack into him like meteors in this half, his ever-growing ego torn to shreds as he's yanked back down to earth. and in comparison to the anime, the manga really beats this point into you, dedicating the entire second half of the story to light's fall from grace as he loses his mind and loses his humanity. like, while i do kind of prefer the manga ending to the anime, i have to admit that light's death there is fucking brutal. light goes through pages, chapters, purely dedicated to near tearing him a new asshole, only end the story bloody and delirious and crawling on his knees begging a god of death to fix everything— all just to die the exact same death as everyone else he's killed. i mean, look at these fucking pages (ch.107):

(that last fucking picture of him. clawing at the sky. it always fucking gets to me.)

it hurts to read this shit!! we spend the entire first half of the story watching this dude's rise to glory, the entire time stuck inside of his head, emotionally connecting with him even if we don't really mean to or disagree with his actions or question his morality. watching his fall back down, especially after all of that, is fucking painful— an in no way does near make the process any easier. if anything, his blunt, snarky bitchery, saying all the quiet parts out loud, calling light out for being a terrible replacement L and pointing and laughing at his failures to his face, only shoves more salt in the wound, only proves just how human he has been all this time, how meaningless any of his supposed "rise to power" ever really was. light got his fifteen seconds of fame, sure— but near is armed and ready to make sure that's all he'd ever get, that the name Light Yagami would never even be associated with the position he held for so long. six years was all he got— and it was all he was ever going to get, because light yagami did not do this for humanity, he did it for himself. all near did was collect the debt that L prescribed. he fulfilled his duty as told— nothing more, and nothing less.

i just have to wonder... is this why people hate him? because he has no sympathy for the fall? maybe. i don't know.

either way, i don't think i could ever really hate him. it's a big responsibility, being the only one left behind. but near has always been the one to hold such weights on his shoulders.

[haileymorelikestupid]

the weirdest thing about getting inspiration to write as a person who does not write regularly is that i get one idea that i can’t see being flushed out for anything more than a 300 word blurb at best and then when i go to write it just to see if i can come up with anything worth posting there’s a whole backstory i didn’t know i was gonna write about and i’ve suddenly written ten times more than i originally imagined

[echojedis]

It still does not compute in my head that they killed off Tech

[fisherrprince]

Although - let me premise. I like Lyse. I don’t think Conrad choosing her to lead the resistance was earned, it felt very fast and a bit out of nowhere because she’s not a leaderly type and the traits she gained were in Doma (he didn’t see that happen), but you actually don’t have to change anything major to fix or at least better it in my brain, you just need to swap around some dialogue. Don’t have him talk to you about choosing her, have her take the reins herself or with encouragement when he dies. thassit I think itd give her some je ne sais quoi