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#no week in writing today i'm clawing my way through this fics and writing what comes to mind and just vibing with the rest of it
cursedhaglette · 3 months
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that last chapter was off the cuff which means i have to rework my outline but...worth it
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al-of-the-stars · 2 months
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Hello, I saw this post and I wanted to ask if you could do a one shot as a Vox x reader, where Vox has been neglecting reader after Alastor appeared and reader started acting cold towards him and he only then did he notice and tries to make it up to them. You can use any gender but you don’t have take this request! Thank you for listening and I hope you do well!
"He's the past, you're my future"
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A/n: Hi, Anon! Thank you for the request! This is the first fic I've ever posted publicly so I'm not sure if it's good or not so if you have any feedback, feel free to let me know! Sorry its not very long, I tend to write shorter stories. I hope you enjoy!! :D
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Another day goes by alone. This has been happening ever since the Radio Demon returned. You thought Vox would be over his childish rivalry by now but you were proven wrong when the CEO had spent over a week trying to find some way to beat that old-timey prick. It felt like he had no time for you. It was always scheme after scheme, plan after plan. Did he just forget about you? Well then, why should you waste your time on someone who doesn't care? Someone who will forget about your entire existence to defeat some deer looking bitch? If he wants distance, then that's what you'll give. While you were lost in thought, Just then, you heard a knock at your door.
“Y/n, may I come in?” You know that voice, it's one you've grown fond of over the years. The voice that you love now feels bittersweet, like sour candy. After he left you alone for that long, your only interactions throughout those days being just a simple “hi” when you stumbled upon each other in the halls of the Vee building, you just can't handle another day of being another acquaintance.
“Yes, Vox, you may,” you say coldly. The sound of the door opening fills the silent room and the overlord walks in. Vox walks over to where you sat scrolling mindlessly through your phone. Usually, you would greet him with a hug and kiss but today was different. Vox had a confused look on his face, a look that made you want to just stop the act and go tackle him in a hug but you can't give up that easily, not even when he looks at you like a kicked puppy.
“Hey,”
“Are you… alright? You're acting strange today, darling,” Vox grabbed Your hands, careful not to accidentally hurt you with his claws.
“Of course I'm alright, not like you care. Isn't this what you wanted?” You pull your hand away. Vox had a look of realization that soon turned into one of guilt.
“Shit…” He cursed under his breath “Y/n, I'm so, so sorry I just.. I don't know.. I was just really caught up with dealing with Alastor and I… I'm so sorry..” His extensive rambling was cut off by a kiss. If it hadn't, who knows how long he would have apologized to you for? You would probably be there all day.. and you did also desperately want to kiss him again.
“I forgive you, but it better not happen again,” you say with a smile.
“It won't, I promise, love,” he lifted your hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss. “He's the past, you're my future,” He gently grabbed Your hand and gave it a soft kiss. “And I refuse to let the past get between me and my future.. I love you, y/n. I love you more than you could ever imagine,”
“I love you too, Vox” you smile. He didn't forget, and he never would.
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Hi, this is my first time requesting anything on this site holy fuck.
could you write a Sukuna x M!Reader? it's a struggle finding any lol. I don't really have anything specific in mind but it would be cool to read a fic where he's not to OOC and lowkey treats the reader like shit, but it's completely up to you hehe
I am so sorry this took so long! I re-wrote this like ten times before finally deciding to just keep it simple and spicy!
Be warned: This is Sukuna people, it toes a line, it gets suggestive, no actual smut though. Proceed at your own risk.
You groaned, reluctant to be awake at this hour, much less to the sound of someone sneaking into your room. Again.
'Dude, it's like 8:30, what're you doing in bed?'
You cracked one eye open, scowling at the pink haired vessel stood over your bed. He had no idea what the hellspawn he hosts does to you after dark.
Yuuji has total control of his body, most of the time, except, as you've learned, if he sleeps too deeply. Sukuna can occasionally slip through, and though he can't go running wild and waking up Yuuji, he can, and will make his way to your room, and keep you awake until all hours.
You won't be telling Yuuji about this because the poor guy would trip over his own guilt, so this leaves you here, sleep deprived at eight in the fucking morning.
'Sleeping, what's it look like?'
'If you don't get up Gojo-sensei's gonna come poor water on you again.'
You whined, driving your head into the pillow before reluctantly throwing the covers off yourself. 'Fine fine, stave off the blindfold demon.'
Yuuji chuckled, throwing your uniform at you, followed by an apple. 'Just hurry up, you promised Maki you'd spar with her today.'
'Oh fuck!'
Eyes wide, you dressed in a panic, hoping the adrenaline would help wake you up. Sparring with Maki is not something to be half asleep for. Never mind that you only had ten minutes to meet her.
Yuuji rolled his eyes, throwing an apple at you next, oblivious to the fact that he's the reason you've been struggling to be a functional human being.
He's also the only reason you manage to get to any one class these days, so as far as you're concerned, he evens out his evil twin pretty well.
'You were impressive this morning.'
A sigh left your lips, spitting into the basin as you hurriedly finished brushing your teeth. 'Evening to you too, your majesty.'
'Attitude, brat.' Sukuna purred, his claws brushing across your bare back, watching the shivers shoot down you spine and the gooseflesh ride in his wake. 'Why you bother covering up during the day is beyond me.'
'I'm well aware of your opinions on shirts, Sukuna.'
Slowly, you turned to face him, wary of any sudden moves the curse may interpret as an attack. He's half naked, as usual.
His upper lip curled in a sneer, sharp teeth almost reflecting the moonlight pouring in through your window. 'Ridiculous things, how you fight in them is beyond me.'
'Is that true? Or you just wanna show off?'
Over the weeks that Sukuna's been paying you these night-time visits, you've grown desensitised to the danger you're actually in. You know you'd be dead if he wanted you dead, so why not have a little fun with it?
The curse's grin could have swallowed you whole, his hand suddenly clasped around your throat, forcing you to his eye level with his other hand digging into the flesh of your back, leaving you to wonder of he drew blood.
'You like what you see, twisted little brat.' His breath fanned your face, presence looming over you. You can feel the power rolling off him in waves, power you couldn't possibly rival. You were helpless compared to this creature.
So why go out crying?
A smile curled your lips even as he restricted the air in your lungs, making your head feel floaty. 'I'm starting to think you do too. You haven't killed me yet, bastard curse.'
Sukuna laughed, and now, you're sure he's drawn blood, you can feel it sliding down the curve of your back in tiny rivulets from where his nails broke your soft skin.
'You don't have the power to back up this kind of foolishness, boy!' He snapped.
Your heart stuttered with the growl in his voice, and despite any kind of better judgement, you melted into it further.
'Then why come here every night?'
'Why haven't you told the sorcerer?' Sukuna countered, his grin turned knowing. 'The brat, the Six Eyes, any one of them could stop me from doing this, you've had ample chance, and you've told, no one.'
You averted your eyes, ears growing warm as Sukuna eased his grip, only to yank your head back by your hair, teeth and tongue assaulting your neck.
This. This is why you've told no one. Gojo would know in an instant that you'd let the King of Curses in your pants, or worse, Sukuna would tell everyone himself, and you couldn't stand that kind of embarrassment, even if the choice had been amazing sex, or die.
Sukuna laid you out on your bed, stealing the breath from your lungs as he nipped at your ear lobe.
'You'll tell no one brat, because you're mine now.'
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dustofthedailylife · 2 years
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It hurts to let go
but sometimes it hurts more to hold on or: How they would break up with you.
→ Masterlist
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Summary: How they would break up with you.
Characters: Ayato, Zhongli, Diluc x (gn!) Reader (separate)
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, breakups, swearing
A/N: Wooo, I'm already back with new content because I started writing this in a daze yesterday and just finished it now!! Trying to finish a new chapter for my Diluc x Fatui! Reader fic this week as well still, I wanna write as much as I can before my exams so you have something fresh to read. Asks open if you need backrubs after reading this <//3 let me know what you think! :3
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AYATO
You entered Komore Teahouse bubbling with anticipation. Ayato had asked you to come here today to meet him and how could you possibly ever refuse him? 
You had barely been able to contain your excitement all day and before coming here you had even made a detour to one of his favorite food stalls in Hanamizaka to buy his favorite sakura mochi which you had neatly stashed away in your bag as a surprise for him now. You and Ayato had met each other about half a year ago in your kimono store when he had been looking for a new outfit for the local festival and despite not being able to make your relationship public yet, due to matters that concerned public affairs, you hoped that one day the moment would come and you'd finally be able to show everyone he belonged to you and vice versa. Your heart yearned for it to become a reality for the longest time already and maybe today was finally the day.
When you entered the small room and saw him sitting on the floor with a hot pot of tea on the table already you couldn’t help but smile. For the first time since you met him he wasn't busy with some sort of paperwork. He sometimes even had his retainers carry some ink and documents into the teahouse so he could work here, so today must truly be some special occasion
"Hi!", you whispered into the cozy atmosphere of the room, bubbling with anticipation. Ayato looked up at you but unlike usual, he didn’t smile, he didn't stand up to guide you to the table and press a kiss to your temple, instead he just motioned you to sit across from him at the table with an undecipherable expression on his face.
"Please sit."
You immediately knew from the way he was behaving that something was up and that it must be why he had asked you to come here today. You could feel how your heart painfully contracted and sunk to your stomach. The once cozy atmosphere of the room now suddenly felt gloomy and so heavy you’d be able to cut it if you would have a knife to do so.
When you attempted to grab his hand as you sat down, he immediately pulled it away and clawed both of his hands around his teacup instead.
“What is wrong, Ayato?”, you asked, your voice filled with concern.
“Do you want some tea?”, he tried to divert the topic. His usual soft spoken manner was nowhere to be found anymore and he was clearly attempting to avoid your gaze, by simply staring into his teacup.
“Ayato?”, you asked again, attempting to reach for his hand once more only for him to abruptly yank it away and knocking his cup of tea over in the process, spilling the hot liquid all over the table.
“I can’t do this!”, he yelled, carding through his hair in frustration with both of his hands.
“Do what?”
“Us.”
One word that struck like lightning. Your heart painfully contracted in your chest and you felt like all the air was sucked from your lungs. You felt like a ship in a tumultuous thunderstorm whose anchor was forcefully torn off from it by the crashing waves of reality, in turn being pulled into the dark depths of despair that lingered at the bottom of the ocean.
“You don’t mean that.”, you croaked after a brief silence and shook your head in disbelief, looking directly in his beautiful lavender eyes. If there had been a time where there was any emotion in his eyes in the past whenever he had looked at you, now it was all gone and all that remained was a dull expression that was devoid of any emotion. Your bottom lip started quivering and you wiped your eyes in frustration, attempting to stop the tears from falling but they did anyway, trailing warm, damp paths down your cheeks.
“I do.”
“Why?”, you cried.
“Our relationship would inevitably create problems for the Yashiro Commission and for our standing within the Shogunate, there are people who have seen us together already and the rumors are spreading. I-I cannot be with…”, he hesitated to speak out the last part of his sentence but you immediately knew what he wanted to say.
“A commoner.”, you finished his sentence for him and he replied with a defeated nod. You’ve always had a feeling that if anything was to get between you and Ayato it would be politics, which were inevitably present in his life, but the fact that you were a commoner, was not something you had ever considered to be a problem.
“So what? You thought you’d play with me for a little while and then throw me away like a kid that has had enough of his little toy?”, at this point you were screaming at him, tears violently rolling down your face both out of unbearable grief and anger towards the man sitting in front of you with that same, stupid, dead expression he has had the entire time you’ve been here today.
“Did you even love me? Or was I just your fun little side activity?”, you fumed.
“I did - and I still do.”, he muttered after a brief hesitation, looking down at his hands to try to avoid looking at you directly.
“Then why?!”
“I have sacrificed a lot to restore the reputation and standing of my family within the Shogunate and in Inazuma as a whole and I can’t risk destroying that by following through with the egoistic desires of my heart.”
Your mouth stood agape at his statement, letting out a huff, while more hot tears streamed down your face. You couldn’t believe this was how it was supposed to end.
“Do you ever think of anything but politics, Ayato? Think of yourself only for one goddamn time.”
“I can’t.”
You nodded in acceptance and got up from the table, taking out the box of sakura mochi you bought for him earlier and hurled them on the table.
“Farewell, Lord Kamisato.” 
You turned around to allow your tears to flow freely and left the room as a stranger without another word or looking back.
Once you were gone he finally allowed himself to cry. His heart was heavy with regret and grief but he knew it was for the better, not for him but for his family. There was a part inside of him that screamed at him to chase after you, beg you to forgive him and come back to him, but he knew it would inevitably end in a disaster for his clan one day, so he has to lock the matters of his heart away forever no matter how desperately he longed to be with you. But after all - politics were a lonely game to play. And who knows, maybe he deserved it.
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ZHONGLI
You had just arrived at the Wangsheng-Funeral-Parlor to pick up Zhongli from work because you had agreed to grab dinner together at the Third Round Knockout like every Friday. You were waiting on the bench in front of the Parlor when Hu Tao came out to lock up the Parlor for the day, waving at you enthusiastically when she spotted you on the bench . However, she was alone.
“What are you doing here?”, she wondered.
“I’m waiting for Zhongli, like every Friday.”
“Oh.”, she said, smiling awkwardly.
“Oh?”
“He went home early today. I even asked him if you were not going out today but he told me you agreed to skip dinner this Friday.”
He did what? And when did he intend to tell you about this? You could feel the anger welling up inside of your chest but you tried to swallow it and hid it behind a polite smile in front of Hu Tao, this was only between you and Zhongli and didn’t concern her.
“I must’ve forgotten about it out of habit.”, you replied. “I’ll be off then.”
Hu Tao waved you goodbye and you immediately headed for Zhongli’s house, with flames of anger boiling in the pit of your stomach and tears biting at the corners of your eyes out of frustration.
Once you had arrived you rang his doorbell a couple of times, waiting for him to open and immediately stomped past him into his living room once he had opened.
“When had you intended to tell me that we were not going out today?”, you spat with evident vitriol in your voice, not even making an effort to greet him first. “I waited in front of the Funeral Parlor for at least thirty minutes only to then be told by Hu Tao that you already left hours ago!”
“Forgive me.”, he quietly exclaimed, staring down at his hand, twisting the ring on his thumb.
“Do you have any intent to explain to me why you didn’t tell me? If you don’t feel well, or whatever the fuck is going on then you could’ve just opened your mouth. and it would’ve been no issue. This is not like you!”
He knew you were right, this wasn’t like him. There had been a contract between you and he had violated it - you didn't have to tell him, he knew it better than anyone.
“Please sit down for a minute.”, he said, pulling out a chair for you, his eyes showing evident sadness. “I think we need to talk.”
Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach and your chest suddenly felt constricted by the calm yet serious tone of his voice. You stared at the chair he had pulled out for you in shock, petrified on the spot you couldn't do anything but panic.
“What’s going on?”
Zhongli brushed over his face with both of his hands and exhaled a few times heavily as if he needed to mentally prepare himself for the words he was about to speak next.
“I think it’s for the best if we stop seeing each other.”, he said after a brief moment of silence. Fixating his amber eyes on yours that began to fill with tears. The initial anger you came here with had dissipated and was replaced by an indescribable emptiness that felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest.
“Zhongli, I’m sorry… if it is because I was so angry when I arrived here I-… just, please.”, you pleaded, tears now uncontrollably rolling down your cheeks and blurring your vision.
“It has nothing to do with that, dearest. Forgive me. All I am able to tell you is that it is not your fault. It’s for your best.”, he walked towards you and cupped your trembling hands with his own ones before you forcefully yanked them away from him again.
“How would you know what is best for me? I don’t want to lose you…”, you sobbed.
“I just want you to be happy.”
It was true, you were his everything and all he ever wanted for you was to be happy and he knew he wouldn’t be able to give you that. He wouldn't be able to grow old with you together, he wouldn't be able to have you by his side forever and just the mere thought of it killed him on the inside. You deserved to be happy with someone who could give you all that and more, more than he would ever be able to give you, for he was a god and you were a mortal. Was it selfish of him to push away the one he loved the most, the one who gave him so much comfort when no one else could, just so you could live a fulfilled life with someone whose clock ticks the same as yours? You would eventually get over him, find someone new and learn to love again, maybe even have a family of your own - things he would never be able to give you. Maybe it was selfish, but it would be even more selfish if he kept you around only to save his own heart from bleeding, because in the end your life would just fly by in the blink of an eye for him whereas he would be your whole world. It didn't seem fair - you deserved better - and he wished he could tell you the whole truth about why you did.
Seeing you cry, with puffy eyes and damp cheeks, made his heart feel sore and he wished he would have never been so selfish as to allow himself into your life.
"I can't be happy without you.", you muttered through quiet sobs but ultimately accepted the fact that this is where your fairytale ended. You looked Zhongli deep in his amber irises for one last time, which too looked glossy, his eyebrows turned into and evident frown and turned around, leaving his house. Standing on his doorstep you turned around to get one last final look at him, ushering a final I love you into the evening breeze, before closing this chapter of your life forever.
And thus your contract had ended. 
Zhongli wondered why fellow gods were always so fond of their immortality when all it had brought him was unimaginable loss and grief that he had to carry in his heart for all eternity. To him Immortality was a curse and you did not deserve to be the one to share this burden with him for the rest of your life.
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DILUC
You woke up in the middle of the night, looking at the alarm clock on your nightstand showed it was 3:24 a.m. Shifting around on the bed you found the other side of it cold and empty, the side where Diluc was supposed to be right now but you were alone - again. 
You kicked away your blanket and slipped into your morning gown, walking into the living room and kitchen of your apartment to check if Diluc was maybe still up doing something. But no matter where you looked you were alone, he had left yet again without a trace.
Slightly frustrated you decided it was no use heading back to bed now anyway, so you brewed yourself a fresh cup of tea in the kitchen and sat down on your sofa to read a book. You don’t know how much time passed when you heard someone unlock your front door but you assumed it must’ve been a couple of hours since the sun was already showing its first bright rays above the horizon. 
Your anger had festered over the past couple of hours that you had sat in your living room, barely even being able to read the book in front of you, because your thoughts were just constantly spiraling around Diluc. Ever since you had found out about his little nighttime job you rarely ever had a peaceful night.
The man in question finally entered your living room and when he saw you sitting on the sofa his expression changed to the one of a child whose mother had caught them stealing candy out of the sweets jar in the kitchen before dinner. He looked at you knowingly, evident guilt painted on his face, knowing you were up already because he had been out again.
“Why are you already up?”
“Good morning to you, too, mister. Care to tell me where you were again? Did Mondstadt need you so desperately again that you had to go out all night again fending off monsters?”, you huffed.
“The Abyss Order–”
“–would overrun Mondstadt if it weren’t for you and the Knights are useless, bla bla. I get it.”
The silence that followed after your words was charged with your anger, his crimson eyes trained on you with guilt. He knew you were right but what else was he supposed to do?
“What do you expect me to do?”, he asked calmly.
“What do I expect you to do?”, you asked in disbelief, closing the book that had still been on your lap, slamming it on the coffee table in front of you. “I expect you to stop playing hero and finally prioritize yourself first. Prioritize me. Have you ever thought about the way I feel when you’re going out every night doing fuck-knows what?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“Of course you didn’t because all you ever think about is your precious Mondstadt. How could I even be so foolish to think I could compete with it? To think I’d stand a chance to possibly mean more to you than this goddamn city. I need you too, Diluc. But you are never there for me! Fuck, I didn’t even have a single night of proper sleep ever since I found out about your hero antics! You are gone every night!”
Every word you spoke stung in his heart but he kept quiet, enduring the thunderstorm of your rightful rage and wondered what he should do, what he could do to end the heartaches and sleepless nights he had been continually causing you, robbing you of your sleep, causing you distress and making you feel unappreciated. Even though the mere thought of it caused his heart to ache in his chest, he knew there was only one possible answer to this.
“Where are you going?”, you asked with uncertainty becoming evident in your voice as he walked past you into the bedroom. As you followed him you saw he had grabbed his bag and had opened the wardrobe, taking his clothes that he had stored here for when he had been staying over out of it and putting them in his bag.
“What are you doing?” 
Panic started to well up inside of you. You hoped that your eyes were deceiving you and that what he was doing didn’t mean what you assumed it meant. The fact he kept silent and wasn’t even looking at you basically confirmed your assumptions and you could feel tears burning at the corners of your eyes and a lump forming in your throat. This is not what you had wanted and the fact that he was truly choosing this city over you hurt even more on top of it.
“Are you leaving me?”, you coaxed, tears flowing down your face, standing in the middle of the room completely petrified. He closed his bag and flung it over his shoulder, looking at you with a deep frown on his face before slowly nodding.
“It will be for your best, you deserve better than me.”
At that moment reality crashed over you like an avalanche, burying you under layers upon layers of icy grief. You regretted getting mad at him, regretted confronting him about his activities because you had just irreparably destroyed what you had. If you were given the opportunity to turn back the time right then and there you would - going back to bed after waking up, knowing Diluc would return to you in the morning and spending another day with him, but you took that away from yourself now.
Diluc looked at you with a lingering sadness on his face, heading for the frontdoor and neatly placing the spare key to your apartment, which you had given him so he could enter at will, on the key hooks beside your door. He looked back at your shaking form in the doorway to your bedroom, throwing you a regretful smile as he walked out into the cool morning air.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him you weakly sunk to your knees on the carpet, letting your tears flow uncontrollably, sobbing loudly into your hands. 
Mondstadt had won.
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If you liked this I'd appreciate a reblog or comments ❤️😊
TAGLIST: @irethepotato @ranhaitanisbraids @x-zho @stygianoir
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Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife, 2022
Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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snippy-tano · 1 year
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oh good lord i'm losing my mind at the '20 fluffy prompts' ,, they're all SO GOOD 😩 it was so hard to choose but if you have the time and muse may i ask for a "you know i only tease you 'cause i love you" with fives, where maybe they've been pining on each other for some time and that "ily" kinda escaped him at the end asdfsd bonus points if they have their first kiss 🥺<3
i'm baaaaaaaack!
i was in a writing mood today, and this is the result lol. thank you for the prompt idea!! it turned out incredibly fluffy but honestly that is what i have been craving for weeks now. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it! please let me know what you think! i have another prompt almost done, so i will hopefully post that soon as well. send me ideas if you have them!! thank you @quizznag for such a fun prompt!! i hope you like it! pls let me know what you guys think in the tags! i love reading your comments!!
masterlist is here!
taglist is here!
tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @lightning-wolffe; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @lussyyung; @lowkeyodinsong; @str-wrs-fics; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @lucyysthings
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Accidental Words
It was late, most of the Resolute was sleeping and the rest were starting their night shift. You were among the latter. It had been a while since you had a night shift and you were already feeling the tiredness set in. You had offered to switch with a friend and had regretted it almost immediately. Well, you regretted taking the later shift, not the helping your friend part. 
Time seemed to be crawling at a bantha pace. Every time you looked at the time, dread dug its claws in just a little bit tighter. You set aside another round of decoded transmissions and picked up the next, stretching out your neck as you did. A tightness was starting to set in and you needed to defuse it quickly if you wanted to get through this shift in a relatively painless way. 
All you needed to do was get through the next few hours without any distractions and you would be home free.
You should have known that was an impossibility. 
The sound of the door sliding open should have been the first clue this shift would not play out the way you wanted it to. Your second clue was the distinct lack of speaking immediately after someone entered the tiny office.
“Your entertainment has arrived.” 
Your heart stuttered in your chest and then immediately you deflated. 
“Fives, I really appreciate you stopping by to keep me company, but I have too much work to get done tonight.”
You looked up from your flimsy to see Fives ignoring you to walk fully into the room and take a seat at a nearby desk. He propped his feet up on the desk and tossed you something. You barely managed to catch it before it hit you in the face. 
“What is this?” You asked, picking at the wrapping. 
“A snack. I figured you hadn’t eaten since the mess and would need something to get through the rest of your shift.” Fives said, taking a bite of his fruit. 
You ducked your head down, feeling your cheeks warm. You turned in your chair, opening up the frozen dried fruit. It was sweet of him to stop by and make sure you were eating. That had been a new development in your relationship, if you can call it that. 
Fives hadn’t been someone you were close with at the beginning, you found him incredibly annoying. And he was loud, you didn’t do loud. 
But after observing and learning more about him, it became clear that he really was a good guy, even if he had a tendency to be loud and act now, think later, the total opposite of you. He was still incredibly annoying, but now whenever he stopped by, instead of instinctively shying away, you found yourself trying to get closer. 
It was a bit embarrassing to be pining after him. I mean you didn’t like him at first and made that very clear in the beginning, which almost spurred him on more. You don’t remember when it switched, but you both gradually began to hang out more and very quickly any time he smiled at you, your heart was stuttering in your chest.
Part of you wondered if he felt the same way. But then the other part of you decided you didn’t need to know. If he didn’t, then it would be far too embarrassing for you. It was better to spend time with him as a friend and love him from afar than get your heart broken. 
“Whatcha working on?” A deep voice in your ear startled you, making you jump in surprise. The fruit tumbled onto the desk and you jerked backwards, hitting hard plastoid. Warm hands wrapped around your arms and you froze. Fives chuckled behind you, sending a shiver down your spine. “Sorry, I should have warned you.”
“It - it’s okay.” You moved forward, reaching for the discarded fruits when Fives held fast, pulling you so your back collided with his chest. 
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting jumpy recently.” He asked, his thumb brushing against your arm. 
You swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just stressed from work.” 
“Oh I can help with that. Kix showed me this and says it really does help. Since you are way to tense.” Fives said, taking a small step back away from you. Your relief was short lived however because while he did step away, his hands moved from your arms to your shoulders. And then his fingers dug in. 
The motion surprised you again. First because holy kriff did that feel nice and secondly because this was beyond what you were capable of processing with Fives. It was perfect but also too much.
This time, you flinched even more abruptly, the flimsy on your desk tumbling to the floor.
Fives immediately backed off. 
Your head ducked down, face on fire. “Sorry, I just-”
“No, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Fives said, clearing his throat. 
“I’m not uncomfortable, it was just…a lot.” You said, brushing your hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay, really. I’m just still getting used to the teasing.”
Which was true. Fives loved teasing people, you saw it with his brothers and other crew members. It was just how he showed he cared. It’s just not something you were used to. 
And if you conveniently ignored the whole you-have-a-big-giant-crush-on-Fives thing, that was no one’s business but your own. 
Fives hummed and you walked around your desk to pick up the flimsy that had fallen. Your hands had just closed around the flimsy when he spoke.
“You know I only tease you ‘cause I love you right?”
You froze again, Fives’ words hitting you and making your entire body and brain shut down. You blinked once. Twice. 
The silence was palpable. 
“Oh, I uh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - well I did mean it I just didn’t mean to spill it like that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Kriff Echo got into my head and I panicked. I’m sorry. We can totally ignore that I said that.”
With Fives borderline-incoherent rambling, something you had never heard him do, you slowly began to process what he had said. 
He loved you? 
Did he mean it as like a friend? Like a sister? Something more?
No, there was no way. It was just in a I-care-about-you-and-therefore-told-you-that-I-love-you. Nothing more. 
You looked up at Fives who’s face had darkened considerably. He was wringing his hands and pacing. 
Those actions didn’t quite jive with the idea that this was just a friendly declaration of love. Your heart clenched and you gripped your flimsy before standing up. Fives’ caught your movement and his eyes snapped to meet yours. 
His eyes were some of the most expressive you had ever seen and right now, they were practically overflowing. You could practically feel your insides melting with just his gaze.
Something was already out in the open, so you muscled up whatever courage you had and closed your eyes. 
“Do - do you mean it?” You spoke softly, afraid to hear just what his answer was going to be. 
“Mean what?” His voice was almost softer than yours and your hands clenched tighter. 
He really was going to make you say it huh?
“That you love me? Like actually?” 
Silence followed and you could feel your courage depleting rapidly. This was a terrible idea you should have never -
“Can I prove it to you?” 
Your eyes snapped open and met his gaze once again. He wasn’t panicking anymore, at least outwardly. In fact, he looked almost relieved. 
You didn’t know what he meant, well, part of you hoped you knew what he meant, but there was no one else you trusted more than him. He might annoy you to no end, but you truly wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“Yes.” Your voice sounded braver than you felt, but you stood by it. 
Fives’ eyes never left yours as he slowly walked around the desk, stopping when the toes of his boots tapped yours. He looked down at you, raising his hand to brush a strand of hair out of your eyes. His hand lingered, pressing against your cheek in such a gentle way that your eyes closed involuntarily. 
Time seemed to slow down and you would swear you could hear every single of your heartbeats thumping loudly in your chest. However, the moment Fives kissed you, everything snapped back into focus. You inhaled sharply, slumping against him. He didn’t seem surprised because his arm wound around you quickly. 
The flimsy in your hands fell back to the floor and scattered at your feet, but you didn’t care one bit. Your fingers curled around the edges of his chest plate and you released a sigh. Fives relaxed upon hearing that, tugging you closer and melting. 
You’re not sure how much time had passed.
It could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours (although you doubted it was that last one). But eventually you did pull away, feeling like your entire face was aflame. You didn’t open your eyes right away, choosing to commit this moment to memory. When you did open your eyes, you saw Fives doing the same. He seemed to feel your gaze and opened his eyes to meet yours. 
You both let out a breathless laugh. 
“Does that answer your question?” Fives asked, voice just as soft as before, but sounding much more confident. 
You smiled. “It does, but I suppose I could use some further explanation.”
He laughed loudly, throwing his head back. You smiled at him, marveling at the man in front of you. He looked at you, tightening both arms around you. 
“I am at your service.”
And sure enough he did lean back down, capturing your lips with his yet again. 
Fives was the one person aboard the Resolute that could make you roll your eyes with one line. Or could have you groaning at his lame joke he told at the worst possible time. Or seething when he played a prank that was harmless, but had you grabbing the nearest object and swinging. 
But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
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visceravalentines · 2 years
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These Violent Delights
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Remember earlier today when I said I couldn't write angst? Guess I lied. 😬
Inspired by the song Hysteria by Spiritbox, one of my absolute favorite bands.
2k words
Major character death at the hands of the reader. That's it, that's the fic. Violence including bludgeoning and stabbing. Zero happy ending. Gender-neutral but there is mention of reader wearing a female victim's shoes.
He knew something was wrong when you told him you didn't want to kill anymore.
He didn't make you. He needled you about it, tried to reason with you, bully you, even piled on the guilt. He actually made you feel guilty for not wanting to slaughter perfect strangers. But you stood your ground like you never had before, and eventually he backed off, reduced to snide remarks and grumbled complaints.
But the thing about no longer being complicit: what were you now? A bystander? Sure, you weren't the one who pulled the trigger and blew the brains out of that blonde girl with the cute shoes. But you stood back and watched, offered her no aid, and when you just couldn't get her blood out of the fabric of your sneakers, you took hers. They were your size.
You were a vulture. Living on carrion.
It reduced you the way killing never had. Killing had purpose. Killing was action, motion. This…this was purgatory. You were purposeless, no matter how clean you kept the house, no matter how tightly you clamped your jaw when a new batch of hapless souls wandered in. Slowly, insidiously, it started to drive you mad.
You thought about trying to talk him out of it. It, the whole thing, the whole operation. You thought about it, but you'd never give voice to those thoughts. He'd dismiss you. Wouldn't even dignify it with a quip about you going soft, wouldn't faze him at all. So you sat back and rocked on the porch and sipped beer like water as the screaming split the twilight.
When you found yourself in his playroom one night, you couldn't have recounted how you got there. You'd gone for a walk. That house was smothering. The town was no better. Every corner held a memory. Every building was a grave. The sidewalk was spotless only because you'd bleached out the bloodstains.
Your feet carried you through the station in the dark. You knew the walk by heart. Your steps were heavy on the stairs, fingers quiet on the doorknob. You did flip on the light in this room, horror movie fluorescents heaving to life.
The sight of this place almost made you smile. It was like Bo took the blackest, most rotten pieces of himself and left them here so he could go on living. It was a room designed for exorcism. It was so heavily burdened with misery - his own, that of his victims. What you felt for him had no name, just an ache deep in the soft wet warmth of your innards.
You examined the polaroids on the wall. There were almost a hundred by now. These were irredeemable. A scrapbook of suffering. You remembered some of the women. Others were before your time.
You sensed the weight suspended above you like the claws of an avenging angel: grief, shame, fear, rage, guilt, guilt, guilt. But it didn't land on your shoulders. It couldn't. You were numb to it now. Would you ever be able to feel those things again? Feel anything at all?
You were so deep in your own head you didn't even hear him come down. His voice was the first thing that broke into your reverie.
"Whatcha doin' down here?"
You didn't answer at first. He didn't speak again. He had so few words for you anymore. Something had shattered irreparably between you. Was it the killing? Or was it something else, something before?
"I'm leaving," you said suddenly. You turned to him. His expression was inscrutable. "I'm not coming back."
He looked at you with flint in his eyes, tongue running over his teeth behind his lip. "Y'know that ain't an option."
"It's the only option. If I don't leave I'll suffocate."
"I ain't gonna let you."
You felt something, for the first time in weeks. A bright red flower of anger blooming in your chest. "You can't fucking stop me."
"I can."
"No, Bo, you can't! You don't own me! I'm not part of this miserable goddamn family!"
He tilted his chin up, regarded you coolly. "Where you gonna go, darlin'? Y'ain't got a life left out there."
"You think I don't know that? You took everything from me! I cut every tie I had for you!"
"Your mistake." His voice was so infuriatingly level, maddeningly unaffected.
You had no more words for him. You pushed past him toward the door. His grip on your arm was anticipated.
"You ain't leavin'."
"Get off me." You twisted and he gripped harder. "Bo! You can't keep me here!"
"I can and I will."
You shot an elbow back, aimed at his diaphragm, connected but not hard enough as he folded away from you. You twisted your arm again, ignored the burning in your skin, managed to slip free and darted up the stairs.
"Darlin'!" he barked. "Get back here!"
You were almost at the top when his hand closed around your ankle, yanked the ground out from under you. Your face smashed into the edge of the top stair; a crunch; the immediate flood of blood from your nose. Gasping around it, you twisted to look at him over your shoulder.
"Sorry, baby, had to be done." He tugged you towards him.
How many times had you stood at the top of these stairs and helped him do this?
You didn't bother kicking at him, pulled your leg hard enough that his wrist slid and braced against your shoe, and then with a mighty jerk, your shoe popped off and your foot slipped through his grasp.
He was surprised for only a second, but you only needed a second. You were up, out, over the stairs and into the garage. You could hear him, feel him, tearing up the stairs after you.
You both knew he was faster than you, and you were almost waiting for his arm when it looped around your neck and jerked you back like a rabid dog. He pulled you to him, his breath hissing hot through his teeth into your ear.
"You ain't leavin'," he snarled. "You're gonna rot in this shithole with the rest of us."
He was hauling you back toward the stairs, his arm crushing your windpipe harder than you expected. Panic, unbidden, flushed your veins and you clawed at his sleeve, his scars, your eyes rolling wildly in search of something, anything -
Crowbar.
Your hand swung for it aimlessly. The cold metal hit square in the center of your palm. You gripped it, yanked it so hard the nail it hung on was ripped from the wall and shot across the room. You heard the hitch in his breath as he saw it arcing toward him, felt him brace for the hit, felt the impact on the back of his skull inches away from you.
His arm went slack and you broke away, spinning, panting. Bo slumped against the wall, dazed, looking at you with disbelief scribbled across his features.
"You fuckin'...." He screwed his eyes up, grunted, shook his head in slow motion.
There was a roaring in your ears. You spat blood on the floor. Somewhere, a tether broke. You cocked your arm back again and lunged at him.
He caught your wrist, barely, flung you past him and down the stairs. Your momentum was too great to stop yourself, but you seized his collar and you fell together, tumbling over one another, landing in a heap at the bottom. You lost the crowbar, heard it clang across the floor to a corner unknown.
He was up on all fours, scrambling on top of you, and you slapped at his face, trying to crawl away backwards into the playroom, your sock slipping on the smooth floor. His hand wrapped around your jaw and he slammed your head against the ground once, twice.
The pain in your skull and your broken nose was a blinding, blistering white flash that made your stomach churn. You kicked him in the groin, drove your fist into the side of his head, earned a split second of reprieve and scrabbled your way out from under him.
You lurched up unsteadily, backing away, dead end, no way out. The look in his eyes as he staggered to his feet was bloodcurdling. If you lived through this, if he managed to subdue you, you would die. It would take months.
"Where you gonna go?" he taunted hoarsely. "You're never gonna see the outside of this room again."
Your hand found the pocket knife clipped to your waistband. He's the one who taught you never to leave home without a weapon. Your fingers wrapped around the handle, thumb flipping open the blade. His eyes darted to the knife and back to your face and by the time his gaze refocused you were on him.
He put his hands up to stop you, delay you, but you could not be stopped. You drove the knife up under his ribs to the hilt, drew it back, thrust it in again two inches down, drew it back. His blood wept over your fingers, his hands were on your face, in your hair, gouging at your eyes, but you tucked your chin down and stabbed blindly again and again. The handle was slick. Your fingers slipped over the blade and the pain was dull and secondary.
He threw his weight at you and you crumbled, taking him with you, crumpling to the floor. You wrapped your arms around him and plunged the knife into his back over and over with such force your clenched fist thudded against his back, until his breathing diminished from a rattle to a whisper. The lights were flickering, or maybe you were losing consciousness, falling into a nightmare, waking again and again.
You shoved him off of you, got up on hands and knees, stabbed the knife into the left side of his chest and left it there. The light in his eyes was faint and fading. You knew he couldn't see you. You dragged yourself around his body, lifted his shoulders with shaking arms, laid his head in your lap.
There were no more words. You touched his face, leaving it bloodstreaked. It had been so long since you'd killed someone. You'd almost succeeded at forgetting the euphoria of it, the hum of victory in your nerves. You were exhausted, spent to the bone, the pain in the various reaches of your body blending into a single, subatomic roar. You bent low over him, stroking his cheek, until the wet sucking of his breathing ceased altogether.
Hysteria.
No screaming, no sobbing. Just the buzzing of a thousand flies beneath your skin. The leaching of color from your vision. The swing of the world on its axis was too fast, made you motion sick.
You craned your head back, sightless. You would never leave this room. You would run. You had to run. But you would forever be here, on the floor, licking a mess of blood and saline off your lips, his hair sticky under your hand. You should've let him kill you. You should've let him kill you. Maybe then you'd feel something. Something besides the gnawing, all-consuming emptiness that only surged in strength now that you were drawing breath in a world without him.
Hours passed, or minutes. His body never grew cold, remained horribly warm to the touch even as the blood ceased flowing and the pain in your head and hands pierced through the fading adrenaline. You'd thought you were exhausted before. This was different. You were a shambling assembly of pieces barely conscious.
Nothing special triggered your movement. One minute, you were lifeless, the next, you were lifting his head off your lap and sliding out from under him. You discovered the last unbroken piece of your heart when you set his head down on the hard concrete floor as gently as possible. That final shard snapped with a sharp and tinkling sound.
You rose to your feet and climbed the stairs without looking back. You left the garage, cast a glance up the street at the house, brightly lit on the hill. There was nothing for you there.
Limping, wearing one shoe, cradling your sliced hand to your chest, you started down the road. The stars were incredible overhead. It was a clear and beautiful night.
All you could see were fluorescents.
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nervouslaughter05 · 1 year
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Stars to Comfort a Lonely Moon
C/W: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Angst, inspired by "dont look for me in the sunset when I die", inspired by the song "It's Called: Freefall, really sad and angsty, kinda happy ending?
A/N: I'm so sorry this is the first work I bring to the fandom, but this has been living in my head for the past week and I finally decided to crank something out for this today during some free time I had. "Grizzly", the woman in this piece, is an OC I made who is very near and dear to my heart. I have a fic (that's much happier) in the works at the moment that I'll begin to share once I've gotten some decent headway on it. Chapter one is actually almost done! So maybe in the next few days?
Also, please heed the tags and comment below any you find necessary.
Last chance to turn away. I will be completely honest when I say this wrecked me a little to write. Considering you've stuck around this long, enjoy the piece.
Recommended listening: "It's Called: Freefall" by Rainbow Kitten Surprise
Inspired by this TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@bejadoodles/video/7203248315381714182?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc&web_id=7195436189938271790
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Called to the Devil and the Devil said
Hey! Why you been calling this late?
It's like 2 A.M. and the bars all close at 10 in hell, that's a rule I made
Anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself
And you don't want no help, oh well
That's the story to tell
Death was something Ghost had come to accept as something normal in life. 
With the horrors he’d seen, the people he’d lost, the stories he was told, it wasn't exactly unusual. 
He didn’t rush into danger trying to die purposefully, but it was definitely something where if he were to be injured gravely he wouldn’t complain at the prospect of dying.
At least, that’s what he had told himself for years. 
Upon joining the 141, this was still true. 
After Las Almas where he had dragged Grizzly, unconscious, from the bullets pelting down around them and guided Johnny, injured, through the city, this lessened slightly.
After sharing a quiet moment with Grizzly when they had to hunker down in her father’s house in Alaska, this faded to a murmur. 
After the first time they kissed, this evaporated.
That’s what made right now so terrifying. 
Because suddenly he was actually wanting to live, wanting to claw his way from the grave just to keep breathing crisp air through his broken lungs. 
Seeing her sent a sharp stab of something he didn’t want to name through his chest. She was limp, blossoms of red unfurling from beneath her glove covered fingers. He stumbles, collapsing onto one knee onto the dirt.
“What do you think of the idea of looking at a sunset to remember someone who’s died?” Grizzly asks, leaning back on her hands from her spot sitting in the grass. 
He glances at her from his peripheral vision, shrugging. “I’d rather have someone look at the moon.”
She turns her head to look at him. “Why’s that?”
“It stands out like a sore thumb and despite that, it’s alone.”
Grizzly shuffles, trying to raise her upper body up. He gets back to his feet, limping to her prone form in the grass. His other leg gives out this time, sending him back to the ground. Ghost doesn’t care–he crawls to her, shifting so he is sitting upright against a rock in the middle of the clearing with her cradled in his lap. She breathes shakily, hand clutching at the red seeping through the fabric of her shirt. 
With her free hand, she reaches for one of his, tangling their fingers together. Then she pulls back, tugging off her glove with her teeth and prompting him to do the same with a weak whisper of his name–not the callsign, but Simon. Her hand is small in the grasp of his own, somehow still not nearly as calloused and rough as his own. 
His own wounds are forgotten in that moment and the stabbing pain in his head is pushed away in favor of the sensation of her fingers against his.
The woman fell silent, a thoughtful expression slipping onto her face. Eventually, when Ghost was sure she wouldn’t say anything, she murmurs, “Then look for me in the stars.”
He is silent, looking up at the night sky.
She waits a moment before continuing, words equally as soft as before. “So the moon won’t be alone anymore.”
Night was fallen, covering their forms in the gentle light of the moon and the harshness of the shadows around them.
The moon hung in the sky, stars twinkling into existence around it. They blur together in his sight, and that’s how Simon realizes he’s actually crying. The moisture dampens his balaclava, making it stick to his skin uncomfortably. 
The hand clutching her side reaches up to his mask, tugging on the edge of the balaclava resting on his neck. Simon doesn’t hesitate, tugging the balaclava off his face and mussing up his hair in the process. The blood flooding from her wound is slowing down, leaking in a lazy stream now. 
She smiles up at him, looking behind his head at the sky. “The stars are out.”
Simon chokes back a sob, nodding his head, his free hand cupping the back of her head. “So’s the moon.”
Ghost looked over at her fully, eyes trailing over the way the light of the moon fell over her features. Her eyes shone in the darkness, filled with a depth he wanted to drown in. She looked at him with nothing but honesty. It tugged at something in his chest, stirring the grieving beast inside of him.��
“What if the moon wants to be alone?”
“Simon,” she breathes, breath going shallow as she winces. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, pulling her close as a fog begins to settle over his brain. It urges him to sleep, to close his eyes and fall into the abyss. “Don’t.”
It’s all he can manage to say past the choking lump in his throat. She seems to understand, grasping his shoulder to pull herself up. Hand still grasping his own, she brushes the other over his cheek, cupping it in her palm and resting her forehead against his. He holds her close by the hand on the back of her head, helping to keep her upright. 
“Simon,” she says, voice full of reverence. “The moon won’t be alone anymore.”
“It doesn’t,” Grizzly replies easily, looking back up at the sky. “The way he acts says the opposite.”
She looks back at him again, gaze soft. He meets her eyes, that feeling stirring in his chest again. It chips away at the walls he put up, spilling through the cracks. 
“But the stars won’t shine,” Simon tells her, holding her as close as he can. 
She chuckles again, breath ghosting over his lips. “The stars only shine so long as the moon does too. They can’t be-” She winces again. “Can’t be separated.”
One of his hands reaches up, bare palm against her cheek as his thumb strokes underneath her eye. She leans into his touch, tilting to lay a gentle kiss against his skin while holding his palm against her skin with her own. Ghost doesn’t know who leans in first, but before he knows it, his balaclava is shoved over his nose and their lips are slotted together. 
It’s soft and tender to start with. 
Then that ugly thing in his chest rears its head, pressing him to hold the back of her head and kiss her harder. 
Grizzly responds in kind, hands roughly grasping at his shoulders. 
She falls back onto the grass, his body over hers as he worships her with his touch.
“No?” Simon questions, wishing that he could just mold their bodies together. 
“No,” she affirms, eyes starting to drift closed. “Never.”
He hums, and she nuzzles closer. 
The blood–hers, his, it doesn’t matter anymore–is sticky on his clothes, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
“And the stars could never shine without the moon,” Grizzly growls against his lips.
He swallows the sound of her voice, staking a claim on her from the searing kiss. He takes and takes and takes and she just lets him, taking and taking and taking in her own way. They were both broken and hurting, granted at different levels, but still were coming together in a clashing of emotion. 
It burns and soothes the ugly thing in his chest, nourishing and depleting his soul at the same time. 
Her hand falls from his cheek, eyes fluttering nearly shut as the rise and fall of her chest stills. He can feel the own aching in his body fading into a numb sting, eyelids as heavy as her body in his arms. Simon exhales, breath dispersing in a puff of white into the cool air. 
The darkness swallows him whole, except instead of painful it’s gentle. 
He doesn’t fear it–just like before–but because of different reasons this time. 
The embrace is welcome, because he knows that there’s someone waiting on the other side. 
A/N: I'm sorry for putting you guys through this
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A/N
This is Death Note meets Black Panther. So if you like the idea of Erik as Light Yagami, you're in the right place.
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.
My fics have no READ MORE option because I do them all from mobile. :/ so sorry about the forever scrolls. 😫 Good thing is I'm keeping chapters to about 1500 words.
1. BEGINNINGS
Dear Journal,
I've written of much in my lifetime and now I continue this in my afterlife. But, Journal? How can I accurately describe this VAST realm where the ghost of my former self now exists? That is all I am.
I'll start with the sky for it has demanded my attention. The contrast of the deep purple and rich blue against blindingly white flashes of light make the starry sky of this ancestral plane the most majestic to behold, even greater than that of a Wakandan sunrise, and for that I am grateful. Under this realm’s sky which is so undefiled, so splendid, so divine that no mortal can look upon or stand under it without first forfeiting their very lives and human shells.. we souls of the past run free in our transcendent forms.
But are we truly free within this elaborate repetition?
When we are not running, we write. I'm sure you're beginning to understand. As ancestors, our words bind the earth realm to our own. We are accountable for recording the events in the earth as well as names.
“N'Jobu. Are you going to run?” Chika paces below on the ground, his jet black fur shining blue under the dramatic sky. Life in the ancestral plane is akin to a vivid dream that never seems to come to a point or an end. “What are you pondering so intently? Give that journal a rest, you are free, N'Jobu. You are meant to run on.. forever,” he spoke, each word echoing in my ear, a cement block sealing my monotonous fate. Is that all there is? Running?
“..I’ll remain here.”
Another omen. The curse of eternal disappointment. Chika runs, striding through the soft green grass, toward eternity. He won’t be back for a millennium and it will still be too soon in the scale of forever.
As I perch atop my branch inscribing these entries, I watch the living trapped in the sinking wheel which is humanity.
I see Wakanda entering a new era. I see impending war waged by the unjust. My claw moves on it's own, inking the names of the innocent and the young. They come everyday before their time. I cannot hold back my–is it sympathy? No, sympathy is invalidation. I’ve been removed from mortality for entirely too long to care. The thing I feel–is intrigue.
-N'Jobu
Sinking wheel aside, the human world has its interesting moments. The human mind is an interesting machine. Humans with the capacity to choose their destiny on a small scale will often cling to life for the sole purpose of defiling it. Tooth and nail, they fight to defy and delay the inevitable, still meeting the same fate they struggled against. Humans pursue the end of a certain evil only to be overcome by the specific evil they’ve created.
Humans as a whole? Predictably ordinary and violent. However, the most interesting things pertain to the actions of individuals. Individuals are the wild cards.
That's what I'd like to explore.
---------------------------------------------
Erik slid his phone from his pocket, sliding it in his line of vision as he walked briskly down the city sidewalk toward the block where his office building stood tall. Yahoo news had a few ridiculous articles, pointless in the nature. He considered putting in his earbuds to listen to his playlist until he reached his building. Or maybe he'd pick a research to dive into absorbing it for no other purpose than regurgitating it to the easily impressed. His business partner would be impressed for sure. Decisions, decisions. Clicking quickly through the internet, he stumbled on a title.
17-year-old Isaiah Mark Lewis was unarmed when he was shot after fighting with two officers who first used a stun gun on him.
Disgusting. Another senseless death at the hands of the morally corrupt, the third he'd heard of in two weeks. He hit the back button searching for something different, something lighter.
Marzeus Scott, an unarmed 35-year-old killed by police in Blytheville, Arkansas.
He exited his browser, pocketing his phone and looking ahead to the silver sky and concrete jungle which enveloped him. Black man with a bald fade and suit up ahead, 2:00. Black woman with a long skirt and blazer behind him, 6:00. He couldn't help but see clear targets on their backs as well as his own. It was an unspoken phenomenon, this fear of blackness that became the black soul's burden to carry. Like ants, black people were expected to work pointless 9-5's for CEOs that cared more for dogs and money than human life. Everyday there was the dark aura of the capitalistic, racist shoe hovering above, playing god.
His calf-skin Armani loafers hit the ground at a steady pace and the Harlequin Jacquard wool blazer he wore moved with him like a thick second skin. A police car rolled along with the traffic to his left as he kept his eyes forward.
2:00. Black man sitting on the ground. Elderly. Homeless. It was only a matter of time before he'd be chased away by some pompous authority. Erik took out a few bills folding them into his palm to quickly pass to the old man.
"I can't take this," he rasped. "I can't-- I-- Thank you so much. Thank you." He grabbed Erik's hand which held the $300 and shook it, not letting go. "Thank you so much," he repeated before Erik pulled his hand back.
Great. Now he had to wait at the crosswalk because he'd missed the break in traffic.
He checked his watch impatiently, a rose gold Patek Philippe Nautilus gifted to him by his team at 2K Security, Inc. Having fattened their pockets over the years, he was their hero. And now he was on his way back to his office for a virtual meeting with Samsung.
"Good morning, Mr. Stevens," Gloria, the receptionist perked on his arrival to the ground floor lobby. Nodding in greeting, he could feel her eyes scrolling over him but like every time before, he ignored this--stepping into one of the four large elevators which took him up smoothly to the very top where his spacious office resided.
Large floor to ceiling windows lit the white painted room naturally and his computer awaited, ON but sleep. He could practically see the seconds ticking quickly by, but luckily he was just in time for the meeting with Sandeep.
"Password and login, okay.. 2kMeetings.com. Input access code," he mumbled punching keys all to see the brown skin man with a pompadour of thick straight jet black hair staring back at him. He started the recording.
"Can I say this the best web conferencing software I've used thus far? And I've used a lot," Sandeep commented seemingly impressed. Erik wasn't surprised having been named in Forbes, but he smiled nonetheless giving humble thanks. This software was his own creation. The company overall was his baby. He nurtured it like one would nurture an actual child.
The meeting began and as it progressed, Erik had new projects to undergo, features that Samsung wanted to incorporate into their products and even into their own security and data systems. They began to talk user privacy, security VPNs, and MDMs. Soon after, it was time to disconnect and implement some of the changes discussed.
Hours later, Erik had not ceased in his work. He would not stop until he absolutely had to, it was a thing about him. When it came to his baby he was totally engrossed.
"Baby," Erik spoke into the phone catching it on the second ring when he saw the name Mika flash on the screen with a picture she'd taken and set as the icon herself. "Oh, uh--Dinner? I don't know, I've got a lotta shit to do today." He started typing a code and nearly forgot to continue his call. "Uh--Mika," he paused to type another line. "I may be late tonight."
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Something had fallen through the sky.
"Hm? Oh. What happened?--Nah, I ain't hear about that story, but I just read about two more today. They're just out here killing niggas left and right." He stood looking through one of the tall clean windows to see what had dropped from the sky. No one on the ground seemed to notice. Was he buggin? "Hm? They what? His hands were up and they shot him? With cameras recording?" He listened to his girl's angry report. She was right, they'd probably get off regardless of the evidence. She would know, she was a cop. Well, a detective.
He headed back to the elevator, cellphone in hand while his girl gave him the entire story, venting her frustration simultaneously. When he stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the building, there was no disturbance. No one seemed to be glued to the area for any particular reason. He looked in every direction including up finding a black leather bound journal on the concrete with its spine in the air. If he hadn't seen it fall from the sky, he'd have assumed some random passerby dropped it and he'd have ignored it. Picking it up, he shook and dusted it, turning it this way and that. "No. No protest." Mika was bent on being front line, but it was dangerous. She could get hurt. "You're not going," he asserted. "I understand, but I want you to be safe, okay? Hm?--Aight. I'll see you tonight. Love you," he said hanging up and pocketing the phone, both hands now gripping the worn journal. Whose was it?
The deafening whir of a siren broke through the city noise before a police car appeared from around the corner up ahead. The stories of the three recently murdered men swirled in Erik's head. With the police's extreme prejudices, the results were never favorable for those who looked like him regardless of what they wore, did, or their level of innocence and involvement. He could only imagine the violence that would come from the driver when he made it to his location. Would there be another bad report?
There he was again--anticipating the drop of the sadistic shoe overhead. An ant's mentality. As an ant, this world he was chained to was nothing but disappointment.
Tag list: @muse-of-mbaku  @goddessofthundathighs  @panthergoddessbast  @thadelightfulone  @misspooh  @marvelmaree  @youreadthatright  @forbeautyandlife  @theunsweetenedtruth  @bidibidibombaclaat  @myboyfriendgiriboy  @dameshaemonique  @blackpantherimagines    @vikkidc  @hidden-treasures21  @mysidefanting  @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat  @syndrlla97  @winteroflife  @thotyana-in-this-hoe    @texasbama  @gingerylimonte  @princessstevens    @magic-madness-heavensin  @wawakanda-btch  @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade  @wakanda-inspired  @blackgirloneshots  @thegucciwaffle  @thiccdaddy-mbaku    @purplehairgawdess  @indigoxsummers  @cccccx1    @dynastylnoire  @iamrheaspeaks  @blowmymbackout   @they-call-me-le  @theblulife  @raysunshine78  @sheisexcellent @fd-writes @soufcakmistress @ju5tp34chy
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jjungkooksthighs · 3 years
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finally got enough time to read yearn for you and girl!!!!! where do I start from? first of all, I'm sorry you did not receive enough love for this fic but I'll try my best to try and express all the gratitude for you. ok so, this is gonna be messy because english is not my first language and I'm a bit dyslexic so forgive me😔... I remember reading edacity and thinking damn! she can write! and got soooo hooked on the way you write. then I stumbled on claws of carnality and I already told you anything I had to say about this fic: a masterpiece. then I decided to read undercurrent (I couldn't read it straight away because of how long it is and how hectic life could be) but then again, what else could I have expected from you? the way you described the scenes (don't wanna spoil anything if people didn't read it yet).. it was like I was there (this applies for all of your fic but this one has something different to it? can't really describe it, I'm sorry). you are such a talented writer, so elegant, so eloquent, so detailed, so entrancing, so attractive in a way? so when you announced you were going to post another story I was thrilled! and you delivered, god, did you deliver. I was so frustrated with jk at the beginning of the story, you pulled me in your story with just a few sentences.. but at the story went, I felt so content because of how you described their relationship, the trust they have in each other, the desire to please the other, the love you can basically feel through the words and when I was reading about the flashback, I could feel the love. I also loved how even if he is a hard dom, he is so whipped for her... when she stands after he strips her and he sees her kick her heels off and he grins? my heart beat a little faster, don't ask me why. I loved how even if jimin was there, he could also have not been there at all and the after care? the way he is basically going around, calling her his fiancee, love them. at the end, my greedy, curios brain (and heart, who am I kidding) wanted more lmao. I have a few questions if you don't mind.. what happens with taehyung? because he was a bit of a brat, trying to get in her pants and then complaining when he got a bit left out? honey, you got a big storm coming. will you ever write little drabble for this couple? like, how did he propose? not gonna lie, kinda curious about the dress he picked out for her for the gala.. no pressure tho baby, feel free to ignore this part. I also loved how he called her petal and flowers and how he didn't even think twice about buying the necklace. want something like this for me, it would be the life, having someone you love who loves you back and is always ready to remind you... anyway, this is all for today, gonna go read yean for you a few more times now☺️🥴. hope you are having a good day, we love you💙
Your english is very impressive for someone that doesn’t speak it primarily, darling. You don’t need to apologize for being dyslexic, either. You can’t help that and should not apologize for something beyond your control. Anyway, you found me through Edacity, huh? It’s always interesting hearing about how you guys find me, I have to say. That one was written in a lust filled craze following the video that the gif used for that fic was recorded from. Manbun Jungkook really took my pussy (and fingers) and said WORK FOR IT. Ugh, he’s just so hot istg I really couldn’t help myself when I wrote that fic, lol. Anyway, it’s cute that you cycled through like all of my fics and I’m glad that you liked my work enough to keep reading through everything that I had posted on here! I will say that Undercurrent is very precious to me because it’s the very first reader x member fic that I wrote and posted to Tumblr. I love that story so much and I’m so elated to know that you appreciated it as much as you did! It took about two weeks for that like YFY, but every time that I sat down to write it, I just would smile like an idiot whenever I’d read through it at how cutely I encapsulated the lovers to be in their feelings for each other. 
Truly, who else writes a damn novel for their first ever fic? Gah, I am still so soft over Undercurrent. That fic is like my first child, lol. It is very special to me. So is COC, but we all know my sentiments about that fic at this point. I feel like I’m being annoying with it, but the self-consciousness and insecurity about that one still persists and whenever I hear about it from my readers, I get nervous because I have this lingering anxiety that more negative comments will be given on it. Well, this ask isn’t about COC, so I should move on, I think. Sorry about that mini-rant, anon!
Switching back to YFY, Jungkook’s personality in this one is a little different than what I have done before and I am glad that you liked the way he’s built in terms of his characterization. I wanted to show a Jungkook that was so in love with you that he is willing to give you anything you want (even if that means fucking another man) while also staying true to the possessive creature that we all know he is in real life. He adores reader very much and because of that, he just wants to see her happy at the end of the day. She is a constant in his life and gives him stability where the world would fall apart under his feet and he cherishes her for that for sure. I adored their relationship just as you did because they care about each other so much and each one of them just wants to please the other always. It’s funny that you say that Jimin could have not been there because the person that commissioned this fic from me actually wanted just a CEO!Jimin fic in the beginning, lol. Kook wasn’t even factored into the story in the initial stages and it actually was going to be a hybrid CEO!Jimin fic where he goes into heat while at work, but that idea was never fully fleshed out because Jungkook had to come out with his D’ICON stuff and really, it was over for me when I saw that video of him in the leather fit. 
I talked to my commissioner about it and she was more than eager to have Kook involved in the fic (even though she originally thought that I would not go so far as to write 31.5k words worth of shit that Kook was responsible for over 22.3k for before Jimin even makes an appearance, lol. I couldn’t really help it being the Jungkook slut that I am, but hey, it brought such sin out of it and I can’t apologize for THAT because it was too much fun to keep writing the lewd escapades of reader and her fiance that loved his future wife too much to deny her of anything so as long as he is part of it. 
As for Taehyung, well...let’s just say that Jungkook had a nice “chat” with Taehyung and the two ended the discussion with Jungkook sat in his office while Taehyung got to listen to a recording of reader fucking herself with Jungkook’s name falling repeatedly from her lips. Taehyung may or may not have had a tent in his pants while Jungkook gave a cruel smirk and when you’re summoned to his office, let’s just say that Taehyung gets a nice show while Jungkook fucks you over his desk. Now, this is done AFTER Jungkook orders you to bind Taehyung’s wrists with his tie so that he can’t do anything while he watches, his lips drawn between his teeth the entire time that Jungkook fucks into you like a crazed man. When it’s all over and you lie boneless on the desk, Jungkook eats the sandwich you brought him off your stomach before eating you out and let’s just say that when Taehyung leaves the office, his cheeks have never been more red both with embarrassment and rage. 
Wow, I really let myself keep going with that, huh? I guess that shows just how much I’m fond of YFY, lol. 
I would consider writing a drabble for YFY, but that would have to be commissioned as I am facing a financial crisis right now and can’t really afford to spend time writing anymore unless I will be compensated for it! It’s very sweet to ask that because it shows me you want more of this story and that’s very heartening to know!
As for the dress, I would be more than happy to show it to you if you message me (you can go through anon again if you prefer) once more with that question because this ask is already really long! 
Also, I’m pleased to know that you liked the pet names! I have a weakness for them, you see, so you’ll find an abundance of that in just about everything you read from me. 
It would be quite a life to have a man like YFY Jungkook in it, wouldn’t it? You would never want for a thing with him, that’s for sure. You also would never feel deprived of attention or love because he’d readily relinquish both to you 24/7. I wanna swoon over YFY Jungkook because he’s just so dreamy, isn’t he? 
Anyway, I am so happy to hear you liked the story. Thank you for reading my work and taking the time to say all of that, lovely. It really makes my day so much better when you guys tell me things like this and I can’t thank you enough for being nice enough to let me know all of this!
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asynca · 6 years
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hey Asy! I see your writer's struggle and I'm just here to tell you that you're doing great, "you'll be alright in the end — hopefully" to quote Jodie Whittaker's 13th Doctor Who. I started following you way back when with your Sam/Lara fics and since then you have always been one of my favorite writers and frankly a source of inspiration, whether you write a book or fic today, in 3 months or 2 years I just wanted to let you know: I am continuously proud of your work and I always will be :D
What a lovely message to wake up to!
Honestly, recovering from trauma is taking sooo much longer than anticipated and reaching its claws into unexpected areas of my life. I’ve never struggled to write ever before 2017. Ever. I’ve been writing continuously since I was 9, and it’s always been how I’ve processed grief, happiness, difficulty etc. I would never have expected anything - even a series of really traumatic experiences - would have impacted that. 
In general, I’m well now: I’m not depressed, I feel good, things are going well for me. This is what makes it all the more bizarre that I still have a lot of anxiety about writing, and when I think about writing even a short story, I feel overwhelmed by the prospect of it. 
I don’t know when this will stop. My psychologist and I agree creativity is something that can’t be forced, and while I can take steps to make writing less overwhelming (breaking it into little parts, say, 300 words a day), it still feels like ‘work’ and not the play it always used to. 
We’ll see. I’m definitely writing more than I was this time last year - I wrote 6000 words towards an Alleria/Jaina slowburn I’m working on over the course of this week. It still feels like wading through mud, though, and I still have a moment of being very upset when I’m reminded that other people didn’t go through what I did and can write freely with no difficulty. 
Thanks for your message - I recognise your name and I appreciate all the support you’ve given me over the years
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sometimesiwearpants · 7 years
Text
I'm Leaving Tumblr Today 👋
Hey everybody, I just wanted to let you know that this is my last day on Tumblr. I’ve had a lot of fun blogging but I’ve started to neglect what’s really important.
Anyway, as a parting gift, I wanted to give away all the art, fanfiction, and songs that I started but never finished. You can feel free to use ANY of this content or the ideas as you please. For example, it’s fine with me if you want to record my songs, steal lines from my fics, or use my art ideas. I’m not actually deactivating my account, so you’ll still be able to see content in this post and all my other posts even after I log out indefinitely. 
Thank-you so much for your follows and your friendship! I hope my blog brought you some enjoyment while it lasted. Love you guys ❤
SONGS:
(Lyrics are in the Sound Cloud descriptions.)
Never Feed a Stray - Click Here to listen in Sound Cloud
A song about Marinette reluctantly falling for Chat Noir. 
I Will Stay - Click Here to listen in Sound Cloud
A duet between the oblivious love birds, Adrien and Marinette.
ART:
(If you have ArtRage and want the .ptg file let me know!)
Mattress Surfing Comic
Basically the mattress surfing scene from Princess Diaries 2 but with Miraculous Ladybug characters. Unfortunately I never got around to drawing the third panel - Gabriel majestically gliding down the stairs on a mattress in his PJs (I added versions of the panels without words under the cut.)
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Seven Eleven
So what if Seven from Mystic Messenger and Eleven from Stranger Things went to 7-Eleven? I feel like they’d talk about their crappy childhoods and bond over Slurpees and Honey Buddha Chips. Clearly I didn’t get very far with this one but I still like the idea. (Version with just Eleven under the cut.)
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(Other versions of my art and unfinished fanfiction under the cut)
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FANFICTION
Pursuit -  In this Miraculous AU, Adrien is the sole miraculous holder and Marinette is a civilian who becomes a self-imposed vigilante. The love square and their personalities are sort of flipped so Adrien is a socially awkward mess around Marinette and Ladybug is flirty with Chat Noir. 
(I didn’t even finish writing the first chapter…)
She should have stayed inside. The rain was falling harder now, bringing with it a frigid sensation that washed over Marinette’s paralyzed body. The glowing pause symbol hovered before her, a taunting reminder of the menacing evil that had overcome her best friend. But that had been hours ago. 
“It’s been too long,” Marinette kept thinking. “Something’s wrong.”
She was beginning to fear the worst when suddenly a familiar wave of green light shot through the sky, one of its rays swimming through the air in her direction. As it surrounded her, the pause symbol disappeared, releasing its death grip on her muscles. Marinette fell to her hands and knees on the wet pavement, her body shaking violently as it fought to regain heat.
“He did it.” She realized in relief. “Chat Noir did it.”
She trudged through the storm, each unavoidable puddle soaking through her shoes and biting at her toes. The only warmth provided her was a burning envy for those who passed by with umbrellas. She waited at a street corner, trying to avoid the waves of water that shot towards her as cars sped by. When the crosswalk signal finally turned green, Marinette stepped onto the slick street, distracted by thoughts of home. 
What she would give right now to be inside and safe and warm and dry and wrapped in her parents’ arms. Unfortunately, the latter would not be possible until tomorrow, as they were both in Strasbourg for the annual Festival de la Boulangerie. Maybe she could spend the night with Alya. She would probably appreciate the company after what happened today… Through her thoughts and the tumult of rain around her, Marinette suddenly heard a desperate screech of tires and a blaring car horn. Still in the street, she froze as her eyes caught sight of a black vehicle hydroplaning in her direction. 
There’s no time.
A powerful force slammed into the Parisian girl’s body, catapulting her through the air and onto the pavement. But it wasn’t the car. 
“Are you okay?” 
Marinette could feel a pair of arms releasing her. She looked up, relatively unharmed, to see a pair of glowing green eyes staring at her from beneath a black mask. She was speechless. Chat Noir gently pulled her to her feet as a small crowd gathered round. The people applauded and cheered, some shielding their phones from the rain as they recorded the moment, but the hero paid them no mind. His gaze was transfixed on Marinette in concern. Her face was pale with shock, her skin freezing cold, and her unsteady legs looked like they might give out at any second.“We need to get you home.” He placed an arm around her back and scooped her up, vaulting effortlessly from the ground to the roof of a car. Marinette gasped as they rebounded off an awning and landed on the roof, where the wind was strong and numbing. The hero looked around, then set her down beneath an eave which blocked the rain. 
“Where do you live?”
 Poor Marinette’s brain still hadn’t quite registered that Chat Noir, savior of Paris, was kneeling right there in front of her. Surely, she was hallucinating from hypothermia. He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder and immediately the electricity jump-started her senses. “Oh! Uh, t-t-twelve Rue G-gotlib!” Marinette practically winced at how screwed up her speech was. A raspy voice and chattering teeth were hardly attractive. But Chat just smiled. 
“So you do talk after all.” A soft laugh escaped her lips. For some reason she had imagined Chat Noir would be dark and brooding, not… charming. “What’s your name?” he asked curiously. A flicker of warmth ignited in her chest. “Marinette.”
Chat Noir already knew Marinette’s name. He even knew where she lived. He visited her family’s bakery practically every week just on the off chance that he might see her outside of school. But that was without the mask, when he was just… Adrien. Despite the way he was pictured in most magazines and ad campaigns, the model was far from suave in everyday life. A practically friendless childhood left him with crippling social anxiety around those his age. 
As a result, his first few days at Collège Françoise Dupont, a little over a month ago, were a nightmare. He accidentally introduced himself as “Adrigen Areste" in front of the whole class and found himself tripping over things on a frequent basis. The excitement of having a “famous model” for a classmate quickly dissipated. His deskmate, Nino Lahiffe, seemed sympathetic but struggled to maintain conversation with the new student. Adrien was accustomed to a professional and practical form of dialogue so when the Moroccan said, “Dude, have you heard the new Jagged Stone album? It’s totally lit!” …he was lost for words.  
Then there was Marinette. On his second day, Adrien caught her hanging flyers all over the school hallways. They featured one of his more recent model shots, defaced with a uni-brow and captioned “Adrigen Areste”. There were hundreds of them. It wasn’t until after school that he found out they were really Chloe’s doing. 
“I was only trying to take them down.” Adrien looked past his locker door to see Marinette standing a little ways off, her face a mixture of guilt and compassion. “I know what it feels like to be the new kid and… well, I’m sorry we haven’t been very welcoming.” She reached into her pocket. “Here.” Marinette held out a colorful beaded bracelet. “This is my lucky charm. My mother gave it to me when I first came here and I thought… it might help you.” Adrien was shocked and completely overcome with gratitude. He accepted the gift and admired the bracelet in his hands as if it were a priceless treasure. He looked back at her sheepishly.
“Thank-you…uh-” he faltered.
“Marinette.” It was such a beautiful name. Almost as beautiful as Marinette, herself. Of course, Adrien didn’t have the courage to tell her that at the time. But now… on the roof and under the mask, he had a second chance. When she introduced herself to Chat Noir, he smiled affectionately. 
“That’s a pretty name.”
Cataclysm - Chat ends up confessing his feelings to Ladybug in this unfinished first chapter. I imagined him getting akumatized (into “Cataclysm”, not Chat Blanc lol) after being rejected by her and vowing to destroy the one who stole her heart. When he finds out it was actually his civilian self… well, I don’t know. I didn’t really plan out this plot, but I hope you enjoy!
It was a quiet night. Ladybug and Chat Noir strolled along the rooftops of Paris, planning in tandem as they patrolled the city.
“All the akumas have been striking within the same 5 kilometer radius,” Ladybug said. “If we can just figure out where they’re coming from, we can find Hawk Moth and stop him.”
“You know,” Chat added, “we might not be able to survey the whole city on our own, but-” he tossed his baton up between two adjacent chimneys. “-we do have quite the fan following. Maybe they could help?” He sprang up on the stick and began walking it back and forth like a tight rope. Ladybug paced beneath him.
“That’s not a bad idea. We should talk to Aly- uh that Ladyblog girl. If we can rally enough Parisians to report butterfly sightings on her website, we might be able to narrow down our search area.”
As Ladybug strategized, her nose scrunched up in a way Chat Noir couldn’t help but find adorable. He crouched down, smiling at his smart little bug as he gripped the pole with his claws. “Hawk Moth will be de-miracularized and behind bars in no time.”
Ladybug smiled back at Chat, but a thought caught at her mind. She swung her yoyo around the pole, fashioning it into a swing, and sat with her eyes fixed on the horizon.
Chat swung forward so that he hung upside down beside her and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?” He elbowed her playfully, hoping a joke might bring back that elusive smile. “Cat got your tongue?” But there was no smile, no laugh… not even an eye roll.
“No, I was just thinking…” Ladybug looked down at her yoyo. ”What will we do after he’s defeated?”
Chat dropped to the ground and stood up. “What do you mean?”
“When Hawk Moth is gone, there’ll be no more akumas to capture.” Her foot brushed back and forth against the ground anxiously. “Paris won’t really need us anymore.”
Chat had never considered this.
The thought of losing his newfound freedom was unnerving. The thought of losing Ladybug was even worse. Even if Paris didn’t need her, he did.
“Hey-” Chat lifted her chin gently, “Forget Paris. I happen to remember a certain set of hieroglyphics that prove the world has needed Ladybug for thousands of years.”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow curiously. “The world?”
“Yeah, doesn’t that sound great?” Chat squeezed himself next to Ladybug on the yoyo swing and wrapped an arm around her, much to her chagrin. “You and me: travelling the globe, defeating evil-” the corners of his mouth crept upward as if to warn Ladybug that he was about to say something cheeky, so she interrupted.
“You and me, huh?” She stood up and released her yoyo so that Chat fell on his tail. “And what if I decide to go solo, hmm?” She said with a hint of sass.
Chat was undeterred. “Then I’ll become a villain just so I can see you again.”
“Gag,” thought Ladybug, rolling her eyes. She could understand playful flirting, but Chat’s incessant romantic flattery was starting to bother her. Maybe she wouldn’t mind it as much if she thought it were genuine, but his coquettish behavior towards her civilian alter ego had proven otherwise. She took the banter a bit farther with a flair of dramatic indifference. “Eh, I think I’ll save my energy for bigger threats…”
Chat hopped up feistily and crossed his arms. “Okay, Spots, let’s go then! Right here, right now.”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking right?”
“Not at all.” He held up his fists. “I’m one hundred purrr-cent serious.”
She considered the opportunity. “Alright then, but if I win, no more puns for the rest of the month.”
He pouted. “Harsh, but I’ll accept it. If I win, though, you have to laugh at my puns for the rest of the month.”
“Good thing I know I how to act,” Ladybug said. “Not that I’ll need to.”
“Because I’m hilarious?” Chat smiled.
She took her fighting stance, “Because I’m going to win!”
Ladybug charged forward, swinging her yoyo in Chat Noir’s direction. He dodged it by ducking swiftly, but then again, Ladybug hadn’t been aiming for him. As the yoyo wrapped around his silver baton, she tugged it forcefully, bringing both back in her direction. Chat swiped towards the gadget as it flew over his head but missed by a few inches. His partner waved it teasingly in the air. “You want the stick?” She tossed it off the roof behind her. “Go fetch!”
Chat squinted at her. “Uh…yeah, cat’s don’t do that.”
She shrugged “Suit yourself.”
“Just to be fair though-” Chat pounced towards her, a clawed hand reaching out to bat away the yoyo. Ladybug jolted backwards, leaving her leather-clad opponent once again swiping at nothing but air - and also falling into her. With a tumble she was down, the clumsy cat draped over her. Shoving against the ground, she flipped the two over and pinned Chat by his shoulders. “Give up yet, Kitty?” she smiled.
“Not a cha- ah- ah-”  Circumstantially, one of Ladybug’s pigtails had brushed his nose in the tumbling. “CHOO!” Ladybug reeled back to avoid the sneeze, and Chat - rebounding from the reaction - pulled his legs in and kicked her off. “Pardonne-moi, mademoiselle!“
Ladybug leapt to her feet, calculating her next move.
“You’re going to pay for that!”  
Chat Noir smirked, calculating his next pun.
“Oh darn, I don’t have any euros on me.”
For another half hour, they chased each other around the city, competitiveness ever growing as they tried to force one another to surrender without causing any significant pain. It was good training, they realized, considering the duo had to do the same with akumatized villains. But this battle seemed like it would never end. The two were so equally matched, so well-balanced, and so familiar that neither seemed able to hold the upper hand for long. That is, until Ladybug bent the rules a little.
“LUCKY CHARM!”
As Ladybug activated her power with a swing of her glowing yoyo, Chat Noir groaned and shouted, “Hey, c’mon! No powers!”
“Sorry, chaton!” she returned as a red and black fabric fell into her hands. “A sheet?” she muttered. “What can I do to him with this?”
Chat’s cheeks burned at the cheeky response that popped into his head. Behave yourself, Agreste! She is a lady!
Ladybug settled for waving the red sheet in a matador fashion “Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty! Come and get me!”
“You sure are terri-bull at understanding cats, milady.”
“And you’re terrible at understanding girls, Chat” she thought in response.
She disappeared down the side of the Eiffel Tower. Chat Noir paused before pursuing her, punching a fist into the air as he shouted,
“CATACLYSM!”
(I didn’t write this transition. Oops!)
He fell right into her cat-trap, the corners of the sheet wrapping around him and closing at the top as ladybug’s yoyo tightened around it. Chat kicked and clawed about inside but the material didn’t tear. “Game over, Chat!” Even from within the dark confines of the trap, Chat Noir could guarantee that Ladybug was just below him, hands on her hips and smiling smugly.  
“Be careful milady. You just might let the cat out of the bag.”
“Huh?”
(He extends his baton, breaking open the trap, and falls on top of Ladybug. He somehow manages to roll her up in the sheet and is kneeling over her)
“Well, aren’t you snug as a bug in a rug?”
“Fine, you won. Good for you.”
“With that charm, my lady, one day you just might get lucky.”
Ladybug blushed uncomfortably. “Ugh, Chat stop.”
“Why?” He grinned and leaned closer to her face. “Am I bugging you, beautiful?” Something snapped in Ladybug then. By then she had freed one hand and used it to push Chat out of her face. “Seriously, can you quit it?” She squirmed out of the sheet and brushed herself off. “The puns are one thing, but do you have to be so obnoxiously flirty?”
“Woah, woah!” Chat held up his hands defensively, trying to reassure her. “Calm down. I was only-”
“Only what, alley cat?” Once she got started, it was hard for her to stop.
“I…uh…” Chat’s face burned with embarrassment, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck.
She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Look, Chat. If you want to be an egotistical flirt with other girls, that’s fine by me, but I’m your partner. I’m not some mouse for you to chase, so just stop!”
A wave of dejection fell over his face, and Ladybug realized she’d gone too far.
“Oh. Um… I’m sorry, my la- uh Ladybug.” He rubbed at his arm. “I’ll leave you alone.” He took a few steps back before turning and running off.
Ladybug reached out her arm. “Chat, wait!”
He bounded way without so much as a glance back at her. Ladybug bit her lip anxiously. She had only been trying to stand up for herself - just like Alya taught her - but maybe in the heat of the moment… she had misjudged him. Ladybug pulled out the tracker on her yoyo.
She found Chat sitting on a bench beneath the Eiffel Tower. He was arched forward with his elbows on his knees and head resting on the heel of one hand. When she landed a few yards away from him, his black ears twitched and he closed his eyes with a sigh. Ladybug crept forward, wringing her hands nervously. “Chat? I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond. Ladybug sat down beside him. “Really, uh- Eiffel Tower-bly about it.”
Chat opened his eyes in surprise and he finally looked over at Ladybug. She smiled apologetically at him and he gave in.
“I’m sorry too. I thought maybe…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Forget it.”
“Chat, please…” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I misjudged you because… I don’t really know you. I need you to talk to me.”
Chat took a quick glance up at her eyes and seemed to find the reassurance he needed. He took a deep breath.
“Well, growing up, I was… pretty isolated. I was home-schooled for most of my life and I always felt this pressure to act and talk a certain way. I had no freedom… and no friends… until the day my miraculous showed up. All of a sudden, I had this freedom to be whoever I wanted to be, but I didn’t really know what to do with it. Like I said… I haven’t had much experience socializing – especially not with… girls – so I’ve been basing a lot of my behavior on… um, anime.”
“That actually explains a lot…”
“It seemed to work for Tamaki-
“Yeah, but Haruhi fell in love with Tamaki despite his flirty and over dramatic nature, not because of it! Was he even paying attention?”
“-so I thought I’d uh… try it on you.”
“Haha, well you clearly chose the wrong guinea pig!”
“What? No, Ladybug, you’re not a guinea pig. I… I love you.”
“Really?” “Chat, I had no idea you felt that way…”
“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag… you don’t happen to have feelings for me too, do you?
“I uh-”
“And once again, curiosity killed the cat…”
“Chat, I just don’t think it would be a good idea to date when so much is on the line.” She pulled at one her pigtails nervously. “We have responsibilities and-”
“Ladybug, you don’t have to lie on my behalf.”
“I do like you, Chat. Really. I mean, maybe not when you’re imitating cartoon characters, but… beyond that, you’re smart, brave, selfless… you’ve sacrificed your safety for mine on more than one occasion! You’re the best partner I could ask for… but the thing is, I… I’m already in love with somebody else. And who knows if anything will come of it, but-” she bit her lip. “I can’t change the way I feel. I’m sorry, Chat.”
That’s it! Again, feel free to use ANY of this! And if you do, send me a message so I can check it out if I ever come back by Tumblr in the future :) BYE!!!
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