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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

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BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

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His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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jess-the-vampire · 3 years

Text

honestly i’m not even sure i should be talking about it, i guess i just feel better to mention it then bottle it up to people who might be wondering

personal stuff under the cut

i’ve had some people recently try to send me moringmark comics, or link me to posts that he’s made and so on and so forth and it’s cool and i appreciate it cause i love when people send me to new works and stuff.....i just wish i was able to really respond to them like i can with others.

mark blocked me guys, at least here on tumblr (Everywhere else i’m fine for some reason), i can’t view any posts of his and haven’t for awhile.

While we were friends a few years ago, but things have changed since i was helping him with his star vs comics.

back a few years ago when mark’s tumblr got randomly deleted, i was trying to contact him to make sure he was ok and nothing happened and all that and....ever since then he’s never spoken to me.

He kinda...ghosted me, and he has since then.

this was our last exchange:

I never got a reason why, one day we were talking fine and the next he was well....not speaking to me. I didn’t want to spam him so i would try again every few days, then weeks, then months....just with conversation starters....nothing accusatory, i just wanted to check up on him and everything.

I tried contacting him on other Sms and everything but i never got a response, and for awhile i thought maybe he was busy and i was kinda sorta bothering him so i gave him space and tried again months later.....and yeah, he never said anything.

i tried sending him apologies if i said something wrong, i tried asking if he wanted to talk and see what was happening, i was willing to accept if maybe i had said something hurtful and he no longer wanted to be in contact with me.

Because maybe i did at one point and if i did i wanted to own up to it to him because i liked being his friend and wanted to keep being his friend.

but as far as i can tell we had nothing but polite conversation with each other.

And after awhile it started to feel, at least to me, like he was purposefully shoving me to the side and ignoring me. First he stopped following me, then he had a whole comic about the art programs he was using which felt awkward to me because i was actually the person who introduced him to medibang

not that i needed to be credited for it, obviously, i guess it just felt weird at the time when he mentioned how much he loved it and then just never mentioned i had been the one to introduce him to it. It only came off as weird as it did because i was being ghosted, i probably wouldn't have cared at all if we had been still in contact.

it kinda makes looking at any comics i ever do get to see of his surreal, because i think to an extent “i helped make this.”

I guess it hurts more now looking back, because now i just kinda feel.....used.

Because i never was told why i was being ghosted i’ve been just kinda left to speculate what i did, and sometimes when you’re left thinking like that your mind makes you wonder if he was never my friend in the first place.

or if i felt differently about the friendship then he did.

i helped with ideas for his star vs comics for awhile, got him into a new art program, then all of a sudden he just.....pretended i didn’t exist....it’s...y’know, sad and makes you think.

And it’s upsetting too because i had a very positive experience working with mark briefly, talking about the show and ideas for projects, when this happened i was heartbroken.

Also he never really finished that specific comic so i don’t know if i should be credited for the help exactly, i don’t know if he ever got to most of my ideas.

at most i helped him find artists and their ocs for him to draw and that was the biggest contribution i had that i can at least recall.

Point being tho, it felt hurtful to me, because of course it feels hurtful to feel like you made a friend and helped them and then they pretend you never existed.

But even after this had been happening for a few years i still was giving him the benefit of the doubt because i still wanted to think i was misinterpreting the situation and maybe i still am....

but when i found out he blocked me now as well, i gotta admit, i lost faith on that.....

i only mention all of this at all, because i used to say i really respected mark like a lot, as a creator in the star vs fandom, and that’s still not entirely gone either....but i have to admit....i’ve soured on him....a lot since this happened.

i don’t want anyone going after him or anything (Though i doubt he’d listen to it anyway he’s got so much on his blog it’d drown in the notes, but still, don’t), i just wanted to address why you’ve never seen his content on my blog despite us being friends awhile ago, why i barely talk about him, why i may sometimes get uncomfortable when he’s brought up.

it’s been pretty upsetting tbh, because friends turning on me is something i’m uncomfortably used to happening and it gives me serious anxiety about me being a bad friend or hurting ppl because i’ve had so much bad experience with friendships with rather toxic ppl.

honestly if mark showed up today in my dms and said something to me and why he did all this i’d probably forgive him if he had a reason and i was just being silly or something. But because of how limited the information is for me, i’m sadly left to think of the worst and there’s not much here making it any better.

he’s a very creative guy and he does deserve his following.

but as is, i just wanted to address that our relationship as friends has changed a lot since i talked about it last and why things may seem off these days so people can get a better grasp on what happened.

i feel it’s better i address it then not address it.

the guy doesn’t owe me anything, i just felt personally betrayed as a friend that i at least wasn’t given an explanation for him cutting our relationship how he did.

it is how it is tho, he may never contact me again, especially now that i know he blocked me, and it does make me sad tbh. I did like being his friend and i wish we were still friends, but this seems to be out of my control, he pushed me away and blocked me for whatever reason and i’ve just had to deal with it.

i’ve been trying to move on from it, i have not attempted to contact him in over a year at this point, but it’s hard to avoid thinking of it when he’s as popular as he is.

but i hope this helps give you all an understanding on things and why we don’t seem to be as close as we used to.

#jess's random posts #jess rambles

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emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU) - Chapter 9

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x f!OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Castle Dimitrescu, Lady Dimitrescu's Bedroom - Present Days

What did dying feels like? Bela couldn't remember the day she died, before she was turned. For many and many years, she wondered how it even happened. Maybe she was incurably ill. That would be the only plausible explanation on why Lady Dimitrescu decided to transform her into a vampire. Having an illness herself, she must've felt sorry for Bela being so young and already losing her life.

But that night, after being drugged by Mother Miranda, the memory from that tragic event returned to her memory stronger like never.

It was a cold night in the 1950's. Alcina threw a special dinner and invited her three favorite and most loyal servants. Three young girls. They felt honored sitting at the same table as their mistress. They were chatting and giggling but then... something started to feel strange. Starting by the fact none of the servants were around.

It began as a burning sensation in Bela's stomach. She tried to ignore it but it'd only grow stronger. She dropped the silverware she was holding. She attempted to swallow another sip of tea. By her side, she noticed one of the other two girls, the brunette one, starting to show signs of discomfort too.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Lady Dimitrescu asked when the red haired girl, the youngest of the three, started coughing.

"I can't..." she tried to answer, but the words got lost in her throat as she began to suffocate, "b-breathe..."

Bela tried to stand up and help her, but her surroundings started to spin. She held on the table for support. At this point, the brunette girl was already lying on the floor, having some kind of seizure. She looked at Lady Dimitrescu again, but she didn't seem to be worried. She seemed abnormally calm.

"W-What have you..." before she could finish the question, her lungs could no longer fill with oxygen. Her throat and her airways started to burn. She tried and tried to breathe, but it seemed impossible. The weakness started on her legs and spread to the rest of her body really quickly. In fact, she barely felt when she collapsed on the floor. When the seizures started, she was barely conscious. Her vision was already going black, but she still had time to see the Countess staring at her body, almost lifeless, as she said:

"Don't worry, daughter. Everything will be alright."

Poisoned. She was poisoned.

When Bela woke up it was already morning. She could tell by the rays of sunlight entering through the windows. She hadn't died this time, but the sensations she experienced were quite similar. Her head was aching intensely and her vision was still blurred. Whatever Miranda had injected in her blood had affected her senses very badly.

"Aleena," she finally remembered. She tried to get up but her legs were still weak. "I need to find her."

She kept moving slowly, using the walls and furniture for support. If only she could transform into flies, it would be a lot easier, but it hurt to even try.

"Fuck!" Bela cursed, frustrated. She threw herself on a couch for a moment. She needed to rest.

Her eyes analyzed her surroundings. Although Bela was in her mother's chambers, Lady Dimitrescu was nowhere to be seen.

Hours had passed since she was drugged. Anything could've happened during this time. She wondered if Aleena was still there and if she was okay. She had to be. But what if she slept for days? What if the ritual had already happened? Aleena could be dead in that exact moment and she wasn't there to protect her. That thought made her stomach feel sick. And rare were the occasions she felt sick after being turned.

"Bela!" Daniela opened the door, she seemed so confused and scared as she was. "There you are, sister! Oh my god, I was starting to think you were dead."

"You wish..." Bela moaned sarcastically. She couldn't miss the opportunity. "What the fuck happened, Dani? Where's that bitch?"

"Who? Cassandra?"

Daniela handed her a cup full of human blood. Bela drank it all in one sip. That was the only thing able to restore her body from the damage Miranda caused.

Cassandra. She remembered her middle sister being the one who told her to go to her mother's office. Traitor! She should've known when she appeared to be so supportive of her relationship with Aleena in the previous day.

"No, Mother Miranda."

"Mother Miranda was here?"

Before she could answer, the door opened with a slam. It was Cassandra, looking completely fine. She had blood around her mouth and all over her dress. In a blink of an eye, Bela lunged forward, pinning her against the wall.

"How could you?!" She yelled. "You sent me directly to a trap!"

"What are you talking about?" Cassandra argued. "Somebody caught me on a corridor and stabbed my neck with a needle, then I passed out."

"Come on, don't lie to us," Daniela shouted. "You entered my room last night and drugged me."

"And why I would even do this to both of you?"

Realizing what happened, Bela immediately let her go.

"Mother Miranda," she huffed. "She must have shapeshifted into you and attacked us all."

It was time to tell her sisters what she learned from Heisenberg. Miranda had already started to proceed with her plans and it was a matter of time before she attempted to kill them.

"This bitch is going to die!" Cassandra punched the wall. "Nobody pretends to be me and lives."

"This is the least of our problems," Bela said. "She can be anywhere right now, pretending to be someone we trust and ready to kill us all."

"Where's mom?" Daniela asked. "I couldn't find her anywhere."

Lady Dimitrescu was the last person Bela wanted to see. She lied and betrayed her, besides helping Mother Miranda to drug her.

"I don't know, I searched for her everywhere," Cassandra told. "On the bright side, there's fresh breakfast spread all around the castle."

"What do you mean, Cassandra?" Bela wanted to know.

"The servants. They're all dead."

"What about Aleena? Have you seen her?"

"No, I thought she was with you."

Bela transformed into flies and went straight to Aleena's bedroom. It was completely empty. The bed was still made as in the previous night. She went to her own bedroom next. The diary was opened on the bed, right on the pages where her father confirmed what Miranda told her in the office, Aleena was indeed the vessel.

Mrs. Volkov corpse was lying on the corridor and not so far away, there was a trail of blood, Aleena's blood. She froze in place, too terrified to even think.

"It doesn't mean anything," Daniela placed a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe she managed to escape."

"She probably did, that girl is fierce," Cassandra added, noticing how disturbed her older sister looked. "I mean, she's not one of the Lords or a servant. There's no reason for that crazy bitch to murder her."

"There is," Bela sighed deeply. "She's the vessel. Miranda was playing us like puppets. The goblet thing was already intentional, to bring Aleena to the castle where she'd be safe until she prepared the ritual."

"Oh fuck, this is bad."

"I... I'm going to the village. Maybe she's hiding in her house."

----------

Eastern Europe, Village - Present Days

When Bela left, she didn't even bother to check the temperature or to mount one of her horses. She transformed into flies and started to fly to the village as fast as she could. Everything that mattered was finding Aleena. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be dead. They were going to California together and they'd start a brand new life.

She stopped by her house first. The door was locked and the extra key hidden in a vase at the entrance, just where Aleena placed it before they returned to the castle.

"It doesn't mean she's not here," Bela tried to convince herself. "She must have found another way in, to not make it obvious she's hiding here."

She used the key to open the front door. The house was dark and silent. There weren't any signs of somebody's recent presence. She checked every room, the basement, the secret weapon storage... Aleena definitely wasn't there.

"Maybe she's at the pub or at one of her friends' houses," Bela concluded.

There was no way. She had to do that. She took a deep breath, gathering enough courage to enter the pub. There were only three people in there, a middle aged woman behind the counter, a blonde young male cleaning the tables and a girl, who was strangely similar to Cassandra, chatting to both of them. Bela recognized them from the pictures Aleena showed her. They were Olga, Gustav and Elena.

"Hello," she announced her presence. They all stopped to stare at her, but none of them had freaked out yet. Maybe they hadn't noticed the tattoo.

"How can we help you, darling?" The older woman asked. "Are you a foreigner?"

"I... uhh... I'm looking for Aleena Novak."

"She isn't here," it was the boy who answered this time. He had a lot of anger in his voice. "She was taken to Castle Dimitrescu a few weeks ago. We don't even know if she's still alive."

"She is," Bela told. "I've been taking care of her."

They finally understood. Their expressions all changed to pure terror and panic. The two younger adults hid behind the counter, together with the woman. The male grabbed a shotgun.

"Get the hell out of here!" He ordered. "And if Aleena escaped, don't you even dare to touch her again or I'll kill you. I'll find her and bring her home."

"Trust me, manthing. This is exactly what I'm planning to do. Mother Miranda has kidnapped her. She has been planning to sacrifice her in some kind of sick ritual tonight."

"Liar!" Cassandra's doppelgänger shouted. "Mother Miranda wouldn't do such a thing! She's always guiding and protecting us. Everything she does is for the best of all of us."

"Listen, little one," Bela exhaled deeply. She had no patience for humans. That was the reason why she avoided them. They'd usually annoy her to the point they became her prey. "I have proof. Aleena's father has left this diary, reporting everything."

"That man was insane. Most of the villagers hated him."

"But he never lied," Gustav spoke. "Adrian had some crazy theories nobody ever believed but... I've never seen him lying before. He was a man of his word."

"This is true," Olga added. "We grew up together. He was absolutely nasty, a real bastard, but not a liar. He wouldn't invent such a thing, especially when it came to protecting Aleena."

Olga locked the door and the group reunited in one of the tables, analyzing the notes Adrian Novak left.

"Fuck," Gustav cursed, while trying to speak on his phone. "Auryk must've gone after this contacts. I can't reach him."

"Do you have any ideas of where Aleena could've gone to, if she was trying to hide?" Bela asked.

"Other than our houses and the pub? Well... we had this fort in the woods when we were children. Maybe she's hiding there."

"Show me the way, little man."

But Gustav wasn't the one who was most familiar with the path to Aleena's childhood fort, it was Elena. The young woman followed them, complaining about literally everything and praising Mother Miranda.

"Mother Miranda would never do that!" Elena protested. "I'd trust her with my life."

"I was about your age when she did this to me, without my consent," Bela took off the hat she was wearing, exposing her scar. "And do you think immortality is a blessing? Try spending your life locked inside a castle, without being able to go outside most of the time."

"Why are we even trusting her, Gustav? She feeds on human blood and now we're alone with her in the middle of nowhere."

"If that makes you feel more comfortable, I've already had breakfast. Besides, I prefer drinking men's blood."

"Can we just focus on Aleena?" Gustav scolded both of them. Bela had finally found a man she respected. That boy was completely loyal and protective of her girlfriend, so he deserved some credit. "God knows why Bela is searching for her but... we have the same goal here."

"We're dating," Bela informed them of the latest news. "I love her. For real."

Both of the young humans stared at her in shock.

"It seems like we'll have a lot to catch up when I see Aleena again," the boy shook his head in disbelief. "I thought the vampire thing was just a phase."

They finally found the small wooden fortress in the middle of the woods. It was mostly destroyed, but it still could fit one adult person inside it.

"Aleena!" Gustav called. There was no answer. Still, Aleena was hurt. Maybe she was unconscious.

"Go," Bela poked Elena and ordered. "You're the shortest of us. Check if she's in there."

The girl rolled her eyes, but obeyed, ducking and entering the small fort. But there wasn't even a sign Aleena was there recently.

"Where do we search now?" Elena asked.

"I'll go to the other Lords," Bela told. "Maybe one of them is keeping her for Miranda. Thank you for your help, little humans. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Bela walked away from them. Maybe in another life, they could've been friends. The priority now was to find Aleena. She wondered if the girl went to Heisenberg seeking for protection or if Miranda had captured and taken her to that creepy cave. There wasn't much time to think, she needed to act.

She followed to Heisenberg's factory. As usual the man was swearing and torturing human beings on his basement.

"What brings you here, kid?" He asked. "Did you find the diaries?"

"Yes, but too late unfortunately," she answered. "The information we were searching for: all the women in Aleena's family have some kind of immunity against the creatures and their mutations. They healed after getting bitten by Lycans, Aleena healed when you attacked her... she's the vessel."

"We have to kill her immediately. Before Miranda puts her hands on her. If that happens, we're fucked."

"She already did. She showed up in the castle last night, drugged me and my sisters, killed the servants and now... I can't find Aleena anywhere."

"Girl, you had the opportunity in your hands," he clenched his fists. "If you had killed her, like you freaks do to every single human that steps into that castle, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"Shut up, Heisenberg!" Bela grabbed a piece of metallic scrap from the floor and threw in the man's direction. "I had no idea. Even if I did, she's my girlfriend and I have to save her before she's sacrificed on Miranda's ritual."

"Good luck with that. The crazy bitch is very good hiding things."

And Bela knew that. Next, she went to Moreau's, Miranda's most loyal follower. She didn't reveal any information, she simply tricked him by inventing an excuse, that stupid freak was easy to fool. But Aleena certainly wasn't there either. Using her flies, she checked the entire place. She did the same at Donna's house. While she entertained the woman and her creepy doll having a tea party with them, her flies inspected every corner of her eerie house.

She was about to follow to Miranda's cave when she ran into Cassandra, in the middle of the way.

"What are you doing, Bela?" She asked. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?

"I'm searching for Aleena. She's gotta be somewhere and the last place I must check is the cave."

"Mother is home," her sister announced. "She wants to talk to you."

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Living Room - Present Days

In Bela's imagination, Lady Dimitrescu would apologize. Admit she had made a huge mistake and promise her they'd find Aleena together. That was who her adoptive mother was, she'd always do anything to make her daughters happy. But at the same time, she was also that same woman from her memory. The selfish Countess who killed three young girls to have them as her adoptive daughters. She killed, violated and turned them into monsters. What kind of mother was that?

The three sisters were sitting on the couch, waiting as their mother brought a tray with tea and some other treats. That would probably be their only food for days, as Lady Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda had killed all the servants.

Lady Dimitrescu sat on an armchair in front of them, looking at Bela mostly.

"I understand you're confused, daughters. But I'll explain everything."

"Where's Aleena?" Bela quickly asked. That was the only thing that mattered. Who cared about Mother Miranda's child who died ages ago? "What have you two done to her?"

"Bela, daughter... I understand you're upset and frustrated. However, Mother Miranda has been searching for the perfect vessel to bring her daughter back to life for many and many years. This vessel happens to be Aleena. It's her fate, her purpose."

Bela eyes were burning in pure rage. How could Alcina be so blind? Even Heisenberg, that scumbag of man, was smarter than her mother was.

"Her fate is to live her own life, to go to California and achieve her dreams. Her fate is to be with me!"

"I apologize for having to get rid of all of our servants," she clearly ignored her daughter's objections. "They wouldn't understand what's to come. Once Eva is back to life, things will change. I'd like to ask you girls to behave and treat her well, like if she's a new sister of yours. We'll be throwing a party to welcome Eva to our family and I'll need your help to organize it."

"Party?!" Bela let out a sarcastic laugh. "Are you naive or only stupid? Miranda is going to kill you before this ritual is even finished! It has been her plan all along."

"Bela!" Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed and she raised her voice. "I'm your mother! You owe me some respect, little lady."

"I don't! Not when you drugged me and let Miranda kidnap my girlfriend. I want to know where she is."

"Daughter..." Alcina grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered her voice. An useless attempt to help her to calm down. "Aleena is gone. She's dead."

The world seemed to stop. As well as the clock. The voices. Everything. Not even Bela's brain was capable of working and processing the words she had just listened. Dead. Aleena was dead. Her Aleena. Her girlfriend. The woman she loved. She stopped breathing. Her stomach ached as much as in the night she was poisoned. She felt she was about to collapse and die again. Her heart was beating in a strange manner. It was out of control. She was out of control.

Bela raised her golden yellow eyes, filled with hateful tears and stared directly into Lady Dimitrescu's eyes.

"You..." she clenched her fists. "You lied to me... You betrayed me..."

"I was willing to let her live, daughter," the woman tried to excuse herself. "Until the last meeting. Mother Miranda told me the truth and asked me to give her the vessel."

"HER NAME WAS ALEENA," using her strength, Bela grabbed the heavy coffee table and threw it across the room, shocking her mother and sisters. "She had a name! She was NOT a vessel."

Very rare were the times Bela actually cried after being turned. She cried when she first woke up in excruciating pain, with that huge wound on the side of her head. She cried later, when she felt lost, without knowing who or what she was. And she was crying now. Without Aleena, she felt lost again. She had nothing left. She no longer wished to live. A life without that girl's contagious joy, optimism and bravery was meaningless.

"Bela..." Lady Dimitrescu tried to touch her, comfort her somehow, but the blonde girl slapped her hand away.

"I always did everything you asked me... I always tried to be the perfect daughter for you... AND FOR WHAT?" Bela sobbed. "The only thing I ever ask you, you denied me. You took Aleena from me. You chose Miranda over your own daughter!"

"I had no choice, daughter! She'd turn against us if I refused to give her Aleena. Who knows what she'd be capable of doing?"

"She's doing it anyways. She's going to kill us all now she's gotten what she wanted."

She started to walk away. She had to be alone. As far away as possible from that woman, from that family, from that stupid castle. That small bed & breakfast at the village seemed like a good option.

"Daughter, wait," Alcina went after her, as she entered her bedroom.

"Don't you ever call me daughter again, Lady Dimitrescu," Bela angered. "I'm not your daughter. You kidnapped, killed me and turned me into a monster. Who knows what you've done to my real parents. We're not your daughters, we're only your toys, your dolls. You're not that different from your sister, Donna, after all."

She slammed the door and locked it. The bedroom was still the same way they left in the previous night. The candles, the flowers, the discs... Aleena's perfume was still on her pillows. Bela threw herself on the bed, holding the pillow against her body as she cried uncontrollably.

This was all her fault. They should've finished reading the diaries earlier and found out the truth before Miranda's visit, but she distracted Aleena, wishing to spend as much time with her as possible before she left to California. She should've been there to protect her, she promised it. She shouldn't have trusted the woman she used to call 'mother'. She was an idiot and now, Aleena was gone. Forever.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Guest Room - Present Days

Memories. Only a few days earlier Bela was afraid memories would be everything she'd have left from Aleena and now, it really was. Without anybody noticing, she went to the guest room the girl had been staying during those weeks in the castle. She obviously wasn't there, but traits of her presence were still all around.

Her clothes were still in the closet. Some where lying on the armchair or even around the floor. Bela grabbed one of her t-shirts, one from Aleena's favorite TV show. It still had her perfume on it.

"I miss you, love," she inhaled deeply the sweet fragrance. "So much it's killing me."

Then, she took the sketch book from the desk. Aleena was the most talented artist Bela had ever met. Her sister, Daniela, was a good artist, but she wasn't so creative, so expressive and precise on her traces. Bela had many classes with Lady Dimitrescu, and though she could paint decently, it wasn't her strong suit.

The drawing was still there. The one Aleena where was drawing her face. The reason why they kissed that night in the library, when she said Bela was worth being remembered.

"And now I'm the one who have nothing to remind me of you, Aleena. Remind me of every detail of your perfect green eyes, your smooth brown hair and those sweet freckles all over your body."

Her cell phone was still inside the bedside table's drawer. Bela turned it on. Aleena had set a picture of them together as her lockscreen. She smiled. In the gallery, she found many and many pictures of all the days they spent together, since the lunch Bela threw on her birthday when she arrived.

There were videos too and as soon Bela heard Aleena's voice, she couldn't help but start crying again. Why did her mother betrayed her like that? She could've helped her to save Aleena. She could've helped them to take down Miranda. That was what a real mother was supposed to do!

"Hey," she rolled her eyes, noticing she had forgotten to lock the door again. Cassandra was standing right behind her. "I'm came here to check on you."

"Leave me alone, Cassandra," Bela angered. "You didn't even like her."

"This isn't true. Aleena wasn't my favorite person in the world, not that I have one by the way, but still... I didn't want her to die."

Bela ignored her. Cassandra didn't have maturity enough to understand how she was feeling. Sometimes she wondered if her sister was even able to feel empathy for another being. But then, she was surprised by her next move.

"I'm sorry," her middle sister touched her shoulder slightly, tenderly. "I know she made you happy. Deep down, I was rooting for you both."

She forced a small smile before pulling her sister for an embrace. It was probably the first time they exchanged such a genuine moment of affection.

"We'll make her pay," Cassandra stroked her hair. "Let's kill Bitch Miranda."

The three sisters gathered together in the library. Lady Dimitrescu couldn't be aware of their plans. Daniela revealed her sisters she once heard about a dagger their mother possessed, one that was able to kill any monsters and demons.

"Are you sure about this?" Bela asked to confirm. Daniela had a creative and delusional mind after all.

"Yes," her youngest sister said. "I stole one of her diaries once. She was reporting everything about this dagger, except for its location."

"Then I'll keep her distracted while you search for it," Cassandra suggested. "I'll pretend to help her with her party for Miranda's daughter rebirth."

"What about me?" Bela wanted to know.

"You're not okay, sister. Let us handle this. Save your strength for when we stab the bitch and end her for good."

"As long as you let me do the honors, it's fine by me."

That was it. Bela would pretend to be alright. She would pretend to forgive her mother. And when the time came, she'd get her revenge against Miranda.

But then... there was nothing left for her in this world. With Aleena gone, she lost her only chance of living a new and normal life. She lost the only thing that made her feel happy and human. And if the dagger could kill any monsters and demons, well... it would be able to kill her too.

Still holding Aleena's shirt against her body, Bela lay on the bed and fell asleep, thinking of the moment they'd be reunited again in death. However, she had a terrible nightmare. Aleena was dying in her arms and there was nothing she could do.

She got up and drank some water. It had been hours since Daniela left the room to search for the dagger. She wondered if something had gone wrong. Lady Dimitrescu would never agree with that plan. She was about to leave the bedroom when the red haired girl entered the room so excited she could barely breathe.

"Bela..." she panted, "I found her!"

"The dagger?!" Bela asked. "Where is it?"

"No! Aleena. She's alive in the dungeons!"

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Dungeons - Present Days

I opened my eyes, but I couldn't see anything. The environment around me was different from everywhere I had been in the last few weeks, the air was humid but still suffocating. It also smelled terribly, like rotting flesh and blood. I tried to stand up but my leg was still badly injured. I wondered how long it'd take for the amulet to heal my body again. Maybe it only worked once. Or maybe it had to do with the fluid Cassandra injected on me before she threw me inside that nasty cell.

Speaking of Bela's sister, I was pissed. Truly pissed. It was no secret she never liked me, but I never thought she'd be able to betray her own sister like that. Telling Bela to go to their mother's office only to bring me to the dungeons was a low blow, even for her. And there was Mrs. Volkov too. I couldn't believe she was dead.

"H-Help... somebody help me..."

I tried to scream but the blood loss and the drug made me too weak. I had to find a way out. A way to regain my forces and escape that place.

It didn't take long for me to lose my conscience again. As much as I attempted to stay awake and hear any signals someone could be around, I just couldn't. I was trapped in that endless cycle of waking up for a few minutes, moan in pain and passing out again. That was it. The Mother Miranda bitch was certainly behind it. When the right moment came, she'd come and take me for the ritual. Drugged as I was, I wouldn't be able to fight it.

"Aleena!" I heard Bela's voice, approaching. Maybe it was just another hallucination. "Oh my god!"

The cell's door opened, allowing some light to enter. I was able to distinguish my girlfriend's beautiful face among all that darkness.

"It's okay, love. You'll be okay, I promise you."

I forced a small smile as she placed my head on her lap. Using a blade, she opened a small gash on her wrist and forced it into my mouth.

"Drink it," Bela ordered. "My blood is going to heal your wounds and the drug effects."

I felt my stomach twisting from the metallic taste of blood going down my throat. I definitely wasn't born to be a vampire. For a second, I thought I was going to throw up.

"Shhhh," she held me still as the nausea struck. "Just breathe. Hold it down and you'll be okay."

I did as she told. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea was slowly going away. Bela started to caress my face and I felt as some warm tears dropped on my forehead.

"Hey, I'm just a little beaten up," I assured her. "But I'm starting to feel better."

"I... I thought you were dead. My mother told me you were dead."

Why would Lady Dimitrescu do such a thing? Of course, she needed to make sure Bela wouldn't ruin Miranda's plans. She needed to convince her to not search for me.

I was already strong enough to sit. I hugged Bela very very tightly. She was sobbing desperately. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest, it seemed like it'd explode at any moment.

"I'm so sorry," I kissed her forehead. "I'm here and I'm not leaving you ever again. I promise."

"You're the vessel, Aleena," Bela told me. "Your body is immune to the attacks of any creatures in the village. And now Miranda wants to use you to bring her daughter back to life. She believes your body is going to accept the mutation."

She also told me about my amulet. Miranda was the one to sell it to Auryk. I immediately ripped it off from my neck.

"I knew about being the vessel. I discovered it right after you left the bedroom. My father knew it and Auryk did too, this is why he wanted to get me out of the country so badly."

Bela wasn't listening to me. She was still staring at my face in disbelief, her eyes glistening with tears from the relief of finding out I was still alive. She cupped my face between her hands and pressed her lips on mine multiple times.

"I'm going to fix this," she was still crying. "I promise you. We have a plan to kill Miranda. There's a dagger hidden here in the castle, it can kill any monsters or demons. Daniela is searching for it, while Cassandra is distracting my m-," she hesitated to say that word, "my mother."

"Okay, but Cassandra was the one to kill Mrs. Volkov to capture me. We can't trust her at all!"

Of course. The bitch had more tricks I wasn't even aware of. She could shapeshift. Now I finally knew how my father was probably killed or how Auryk obtained that amulet from her. It was also obvious who attacked the castle that morning, Miranda was willing to test my healing properties again.

"She didn't. Mother Miranda can shapeshift into any person, this is why we need to be careful. We have this safe word, to know we're the actual Dimitrescu sisters. It's 'blowfly'."

I sighed and attempted to break the tension.

"And how do you know I'm the real Aleena?" I smiled.

"Trust me, love. I know," Bela kissed me, slowly and passionate. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be doing this. Imagine how disgusting it would be to kiss that crazy bitch."

We both broke into laughs. Then, she took my hand and helped me to stand up.

"We need to get you out of here. My mother can't know I've found you. Miranda is coming to pick you up at midnight for the ritual."

Through the secret passages we made to the stables, where Bela had already left my bags and a horse prepared to take me to the village.

"Once you get there," she told me. "Just drive as far as you can. Go to the city, find your brother and fly to United States."

And then I realized.

"But Bela... what about you?"

"I'm staying here, love. I'm going to kill Miranda, together with my sisters and Heisenberg."

"And then you'll meet me there, right?!" I raised my voice, fighting hard against the tears that insisted falling down. "You'll go to California."

She was in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words, but I already knew what she wanted to say. First, she handed me my cell phone.

"You said you wanted something to remember. Now you have plenty of pictures of me in this device of yours."

"Bela... what are you saying?"

"Let's be honest, Aleena," she looked down. "It was never a possibility and you knew it. We'd have to stop at the first temperature drop we came across. We probably wouldn't even make it to the airport."

"I said I'm going to find a way! It's Summer, dammit. It's not so cold away from the mountains and once we arrive in California, it'll be even hotter."

"You know your world would never accept me, love. Look at me, I have this nasty scar, this weird tattoo, I need to drink human blood to live..."

"STOP MAKING EXCUSES TO BREAK UP WITH ME! I'LL FIND A WAY! FOR ALL OF THIS. IF THEY CAN'T ACCEPT YOU, THEN FUCK THEM! I LOVE YOU AND IT'S ALL THAT MATTERS."

"I love you too," Bela kissed my forehead. "And this is why I'm letting you go."

"Even if I go, Bela," I argued, punching her shoulder slightly, "it doesn't have to end! I'm going to call you. I'm going to write you. And I'll come here to visit you too."

"In the first few weeks, love. Then, you'll become too busy to write. Our phone calls will become shorter because you'll be too tired. You'll disappear for a few days. We'll start to fade, little by little. And finally someday, you'll meet somebody new. Somebody who can make you laugh and distract you from your tragic past. Somebody who can take you to an actual date. Somebody you can introduce to your family and friends. Somebody who actually deserves you. Who can give you a future with marriage and children. Because she isn't dead. Because she isn't... me."

"I don't want any of this! I want you and only you. This future? We can have it! Here in this fucking castle or in my old small house. I don't care if I have to serve tables for the rest of my life, as long as I have you."

"You deserve a lot more than that."

"And so do you. What are you going to do, huh? To keep playing house with the woman who killed and turned you into a vampire? Serving her every wish and pretending you love this life? Or sleep with a different servant every week to hide the fact you're completely lonely and miserable?"

"Yes, Aleena. It has been this way for six decades now and it's not going to change. I have no choice, I'm sorry."

She vanished into a swarm of flies and disappeared, leaving me completely alone in the stables. I fell on my knees again, sobbing and screaming my lungs out.

"Bela, come back here!" I cried. "I love you! Please... come back..."

I still waited for a few minutes, but as I knew and as Mrs. Volkov always warned me, when Bela made a decision nothing would change her mind. Not even her mother or her sisters. Not even me.

----------

Castle Dimitrescu, Bela's Room - Present Days

"I'm hungry," Cassandra complained from the couch. "Pretty please... I'm helping you with the secret mission. A scrambled egg is enough."

"Tell Lady Dimitrescu to cook," Bela remained unmoved on her bed, staring at the ceiling while wearing Aleena's jacket. The one she borrowed her when the castle was attacked. It was the only memory she'd have from the woman she loved. "She was the one to kill all the servants."

Bela was listening to an old love song from the 60's. It was the one thing she was actually capable of doing in that moment. She couldn't even manage to create different scenarios about how she could kill Miranda inside her mind, or even wander around the castle searching for the cursed knife.

She knew Aleena had safely arrived in her house at the village. She sent one of her flies to follow her and observe her for how long it was possible. The girl was completely devastated, heartbroken and it killed her to see that. She could she glimpses of the moments where she sobbed while packing her bags and taking them to her old truck. But it was the best for both of them. She'd never be safe by Bela's side. Especially while Miranda was still around.

"This music is making me nauseous," Cassandra went to the disc player and turned it off. "You should've gone with her then."

"It was the safest for her. Mother would come after me immediately and take her back to Miranda's claws."

The brunette sister went to her own bedroom and returned with a book in hands, what surprised Bela because Cassandra wasn't much of a reader.

"Check this out. I asked the Duke to get you the sequel," and she started to read, adopting the same dramatic tone as usual. "As much as I struggled not to think of him, I did not struggle to forget. I worried — late in the night, when the exhaustion of sleep deprivation broke down my defenses — that it was all slipping away. That my mind was a sieve, and I would someday not be able to remember the precise color of his eyes, the feel of his cool skin, or the texture of his voice. I could not think of them, but I must remember them. Because there was just one thing that I had to believe to be able to live — I had to know that he existed. That was all. Everything else I could endure. So long as he existed."

"Ha ha, very funny," Bela rolled her eyes. Deep down she absorbed those words. She feared someday she'd forget all those small details about Aleena too, but knowing she existed someday, and that she loved her back, was enough for her to be able to live for the rest of her immortal days. "Next time, get us something useful. Like that fucking dagger."

The door opened and Daniela walked inside, pushing a food cart.

"I brought us dinner," she announced.

"Did you kidnap a villager to cook for us?" Cassandra asked, immediately grabbing a plate.

"Of course not! I cooked it myself. If Bela can do it, I can too."

The two eldest sisters exchanged a suspicious glance, before deciding they were not so hungry after all.

"And here is the main dish..." Daniela said, lifting the lid and revealing the content inside the silver pan. "A poisonous dagger."

"You did it!" Bela exclaimed, surprised and proud.

"Yes! Let's chop that bitch to pieces."

Daniela hugged her eldest sister again. It was happening too often lately, for Bela's discomfort. But this time, she accepted the hug.

"Where's mom?" Cassandra interrupted the moment. "I haven't heard from her since I left her alone in her bedroom."

The castle was way too quiet. It wasn't the first time the servants had to be gotten rid of and they were completely by themselves. Or maybe sometimes, Lady Dimitrescu would lock herself in the Opera House to play the piano or even read a book alone in her bedroom, but that wasn't the case this time. That was a different kind of silence. A silence that indicated danger, a threat.

"Mother?!" Cassandra called, followed by her two sisters. "Where are you?"

There was no answer. They were about to reach the library when the power went out, as well as the heating system. A wave of panic instantly spread over Bela's body. She feared the cold, more than anything.

"What the hell?!" Daniela yelled. "Who's there? I'm starving and angry, so don't mess with me!"

"Shhhh," Bela silenced her. She had a feeling, a hunch about who could it be. As they approached the office, her suspicions were confirmed by the argument coming from inside the room.

"Where is she, Alcina?!" They heard Miranda yelling. "You promised me to keep her safe!"

"Mother, I swear... she was in the dungeons! There was no way she could escape. The drug was supposed to keep her down until now."

"Your daughters... they must've helped her to escape. Decades trying to find the perfect vessel and they ruined it all. They'll deal with the consequences!"

"Mother, no! Don't hurt them, I'm begging you."

In that moment, the sisters witnessed as a powerful flock of birds started to fly around the caste, shattering all the windows. As the cold air of the night in the mountains filled the entire place, the three sisters knew their ending was imminent.

----------

Eastern Europe, Aleena's House - Present Days

The tears blurred my vision as I followed my way back to the village. Sometimes, I'd stop for a minute, hoping Bela would change her mind and come after me. Why would she assume I was safer without her? If there was someone who could protect me, that was she.

As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the garage, getting my old truck to come back to life. Then, I followed to my bedroom to pack my bags. There wasn't much I actually needed to take, mostly my clothes, my laptop and a few other important belongings. I didn't plan to sell the house anyways. I could come back and take the rest later, if I had to.

My books. I would definitely take at least my favorites. Most of them were gifts from my mom. I couldn't leave those precious treasures behind. As I grabbed one of them to place it inside of my luggage, a small piece of paper fell on the floor:

'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. Love alters not with time's brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom'.

I recognized it. It was an excerpt of William Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. Bela should've left it there when she was alone in my bedroom. In the end, she wrote: 'Please, think of me sometimes. I love you, forever'.

Of course I would. There was no way I'd ever stop loving that girl, or even forgetting about her at all. I could never forget about the girl who threw me the sweetest birthday party or made me the best pancakes in the world. And especially, the first girl I ever loved. I pressed the note against my chest, letting out a few tears. I placed it among my belongings, those I was going to take with me to California.

I heard the front door opening and I immediately grabbed my rifle and my blades too. Something had to at least cause some harm to that bitch. I was slowly going down the stairs in an attack position, when I heard a voice.

"Leena? Are you home?" That was my twin brother, Auryk. "I'm back."

"Auryk," I finally revealed myself. My first impulse was running to his arms, before I remembered all the lies and the betrayal. "You knew it. You fucking knew it and you hid it from me!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I was trying to keep you safe from Miranda. I planned to get you out of here before it all came to surface, but that bitch was already one step ahead."

"We have to go, right now. She's coming after me. I just escaped Castle Dimitrescu."

"Leena, no..." he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought I was clear when I asked you to stay in the castle until I returned."

"Auryk, she drugged me and locked me in the dungeons!" I yelled. "She was going to sacrifice me in a sick ritual tonight. Which part haven't you understand yet?"

"This was the plan, Aleena. When she was vulnerable, during the ritual, the agency would take the opportunity to explode this place and all these freaks."

"WHAT?! What about the village... and the people, their houses? What about ME?! What if I got killed in this process?"

"They're going to evacuate the village in a couple of hours," he explained. "And then, they'll help them to rebuild their lives or something... I don't know for sure. But they would protect us."

"Stop them!" I ordered. I couldn't let them hurt Bela or her sisters. Or even put the villagers in danger. Some of them, such as Olga, Elena and her father would never abandon that place and its traditions. "Right now! You're not going to hurt them. You won't!"

"Aleena, what the fuck? They're monsters! They're going to kill you!"

And then, I did the first thing that came to my mind. It was stupid, unplanned and completely reckless. I knocked my brother's head with the rifle. As soon as he fell unconscious on the floor, I tied him up and locked him inside Adrian's secret storage.

"I'm sorry, Auryk. But I must save my girlfriend."

#resident evil village #residesnt evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x f!oc #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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pinballwitxh · 4 years

Text

heavenly - request - spencer reid x oc

summary: a local sketch artist comes back in for a case the team is working on and discovers she’s slowly taken a liking to the resident genius.

warnings: so much smut, some cursing

a/n: I was so excited to write this one that I took it on right away. sorry that I went out of order but I had to get this one out! the inspiration to write this came and went so I am sorry if some things seems repetitive and others seem...actually good lol. enjoy!!!!

Spencer sat behind her as she introduced herself to the young victim across from them. The girl was wrapped snuggly in a blanket and fidgeting constantly.

“I’ve already told everything I know to the cops, can I please just go home?” She began to sob, “Don’t make me retell it all!”

“I’m not going to ask you anymore questions,” the artist said calmly as she leaned forward, “You just need to describe his face, anything you’re able to remember.”

“Just take some deep breaths and close your eyes,” Spencer said as he leaned over the artist’s shoulder, “It may help you to remember as many details as possible.”

The girl leaned back in her chair and wiped her eyes before nodding to them. Spencer sat back and watched the artist and her hands work, absolutely mesmerized by how fluid her hands moved and how perfect the lines were.

She didn’t even really know what this man’s face looked like and yet it was coming together beautifully.

For a little over an hour they worked with her before happily dismissing her to rejoin her worried family in the lobby. The two stood side by side with smiles as she ran into their arms, sobbing happily.

She handed him the drawing, “Team might need that soon,”

“We really appreciate all your help,” he said as he took the paper and shook her hand.

“Never thought my interest in art would take me to the FBI someday,” she said as she gathered her things.

Spencer shoved his hands into his pockets and smiled, “You have a really great gift, it’s fascinating to watch you work, actually.”

She blushed and hugged her sketchbook close to her, “Thank you, Doctor Reid-”

“You know you can call me Spencer, I think we’ve worked together enough to be on a first-name basis.” he said with a grin.

In a surge of confidence she scribbled her number down on a piece of sketchbook paper and nearly shoved it into his chest from all the nerves. She knew she had been crushing on the genius for awhile now.

“In that case I guess we can be on texting-basis, too,” she chuckled.

Spencer held the piece of paper close, “Would it be too forward to ask you on a date before texting you?”

The look of surprise that washed over her face made Spencer think he had done something wrong, he had definitely been too forward. He profusely apologized to her while stammering over his words.

She laid a hand on his arm, “I’d love to go on a date, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” she sighed, “It’s just been a very long time since I’ve gone on a date with anyone. I was kind of shocked you asked me,”

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh, well you don’t have to if you aren’t ready-”

“Text me tonight so we can figure out a time, Spencer.” she winked before waving at him and turning to leave. He watched her all the way down the hallway before turning around and cheering to himself quietly.

- 6 MONTHS LATER -

She looked around the buzzing bar for Spencer, meeting his smile from across the restaurant. He stood from his chair and opened his arms, pulling her into a tight and close hug after she ran to him.

It had been a two-week long case, lots of lives were lost and to say it was frustrating was an understatement. The dark circles clouded his eyelids and his skin was so pale she questioned how long it had been since he had seen daylight.

The rest of the team laughed and they sat down, jumping back into the conversation. His hand travelled up her thigh slowly, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. Spencer wasn’t one for PDA, usually, but if it was happening it usually meant he was upset. Her hand found his and her fingers coiled over his easily, holding his hand tightly and squeezing it once in awhile.

She turned to look at him in the middle of conversation, it was clear that some of the stress was already gone but it still lingered behind his tired laugh and half-hearted smiles. He caught her stare and smiled widely at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“I think we should all go home and get some rest,” Hotch said, a command laced behind his words.

Before the couple left Derek approached her and brought her in for a hug, “How’s everything going with you, Der?”

He smiled, “You always know how to cheer me up with that smile, sweetness,” he leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead, “I am a little worried about your man, though.”

She frowned, “What happened?”

“It shook us all, kid, not gonna lie,” he sighed, “It shook us up in different ways but Spencer was especially upset that he was away from you.”

“I mean, neither of us like it when he has to leave,”

“Just talk to him tonight, I don’t think he’s gonna sleep very well.”

She nodded and squeezed her friend in a side hug, “Thanks for looking out for him, Morgan.”

He smiled, “Always have to keep an eye on Doctor Strange.”

“I liked that reference,” Spencer said as he approached them, holding his hand out for her to take.

The drive home was very quiet, which was unusual for Spencer after coming home from a case. His hand held hers steady over the console and he didn’t let go until they pulled into the parking garage of her apartment. He frowned and looked over at her, “Why didn’t you drop me off at my place?”

“You already have your things packed up, so I figured you can stay the night,” she smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

He didn’t object, Spencer just liked to know plans ahead of time and yet he found himself content with being here. The elevator ride up to her apartment was also very quiet and it was starting to worry her. Spencer was usually pretty well-recovered after coming home from a case.

Clearly he wasn’t.

- - -

While Spencer took a very long bath and shower she got a fire going and laid out some fluffy blankets on the couch. She had a few new movies that she had found on Netflix listed in her phone that she thought they should try out. From the shadows her cat emerged, mewing at her and rubbing against her leg as she rifled through the fridge for food.

In a scurry her cat bounded towards the bathroom door, pawing at the wood in an attempt to find out who was on the other side. She rolled her eyes and followed the animal, picking him up and scratching behind his ears, “You can’t get attention anytime you want, you know?”

Spencer opened the door and gasped when he saw her on the other side. She blinked, keeping her eyes level with his so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Spencer hadn’t been super intimate with her, ever, and she was okay with that. They had been slowly testing the waters, edging closer to the edge each time they were together.

Seeing him shirtless was a rare sight and she wanted to let her eyes roam over his entire body so bad.

“I-I left my clothes in your room,” he stuttered.

She laughed nervously and stepped out of the way to let him pass. Before he shut the door behind him she looked over her shoulder, taking a glimpse at his bare back and the water that dripped down his shoulder blades.

The door shut and she jumped at the sound, instantly brought back to reality. Her cat squirmed against her hold so she set him down, once again he began to paw at the door Spencer had just disappeared behind.

She decided to leave him be and get as far away from his naked body as she could.

He came walking down the hall with her cat in his arms, cuddling him close. She smiled at the sight and laughed, her cat was such a suck-up when it came to Spencer.

The couch dipped as he sat next to her, cradling her cat like a baby and scratching the underside of his chin. She pulled her blanket up closer and offered him a glass of wine, to which he surprisingly accepted.

“Must’ve been a hard one,” she said as she passed his glass over to him.

He nodded, “You have no idea,”

She looked away, “I’m sure I don’t, I’m sorry, Spence.”

He smiled as he set her cat down between them, “Let’s just watch a movie, something funny.”

Ten minutes later both of them were curled up warmly under separate blankets, sipping on wine and engrossed in the film. About halfway through was when she could feel his legs pressing up against her feet and she slowly slid her legs over his own. Without even looking at each other they settled into the new position and continued to watch.

His hand found a resting spot on her inner thighs and immediately she could feel the heat flush her face. She shifted her legs and left him more room to slide his hand down lower, and he did.

Not even ten minutes later she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and apparently Spencer couldn’t either.

They practically lunged at each other after making eye contact. His placed both of his hands on her hips while hers latched onto the sides of his face. There wasn’t much time left for breathing as they kissed deeply and hungrily, tugging at each other’s lips and tongues sliding around one another.

She slid lower onto the couch with a vice-like grip on his collar. His body loomed over hers and he subtly nudged her legs apart, making room for him to lay between them. He hastily tossed the blanket to the side and groaned at the fact that the only thing separating them now was a very thin layer of clothes.

“Spence,” she moaned quietly between kisses, his hard-on becoming very apparent now. He ground his hips down onto hers, something he had recently learned that she liked. She shuddered at the contact as a chill spread throughout her whole body.

He let out a small groan, “I need you,” he whispered.

For a moment she didn’t think she heard him correctly, so she continued to kiss his lips feverishly. He barely had time to catch a breath between the needy kisses, so he pulled away and captured her face in his hands.

She opened her eyes and stared up at him, chest heaving.

“I want you, so bad,” he whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

She blinked, “W-want me as in. . .”

He cleared his throat and nodded, “In every single way possible,”

His eyes flickered across her face and he smiled down at her. She noticed it was a small smile, but genuine nonetheless. She propped herself up on her elbows and kissed him deeply, taking his larger hand in hers. Slowly she guided his hand to her breast before he took over, massaging it slowly. His breath caught in his throat as she ran a hand up his chest, fingers dipping beneath the seam of the Cal Tech shirt he wore.

He dove his head low to her neck, nearly suffocating himself in the warmth of her skin. He peppered kisses all over her throat and with his tongue he could taste the faintest bit of sweat beginning to form on her. She let out a guttural growl, something Spencer had never heard from her before.

His erection twitched and he ground against her slow and hard. With her arms wrapped around his neck she sighed into his shoulder, kissing the exposed skin on his neck as he nudged her bra off slowly. Soon both of their shirts were off and Spencer had yet to open his eyes.

She sat up and straddled his lap, tilting his head up to meet her stare. He slowly opened his eyes, brows knitted together in a deep frown.

She placed a strand of hair behind his ear, “Are you sure you want to?”

He nodded vigorously, “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” he said quietly, tracing his knuckle over her cheek.

“Then what’s got you hesitating?”

He looked away and pulled her close, not saying a word. For a moment she waited, not sure what to expect from her boyfriend. Spencer was a very quiet person when it came to his feelings. Despite the fact they had been dating for nearly 6 months, she found that did nothing when it came to talking about their feelings.

“You have to talk to me if you want to do this,” she whispered as she took his face into her hands and forcing him to look at her.

There were tears in his eyes and she frowned, immediately pulling him into her hold and hugging him close. Quietly he cried into her neck, shoulders heaving with the faintest hiccups. She shushed him, sitting up against the couch and cradling him.

Nothing like this ever happened and it startled her a little bit.

“Stop hiding things from me, Spencer,” she kissed the top of his head.

He pulled away and wiped at his dark eyes, “I’ve never been more of anything else in my life,” he paused to take a deep breath, “Those two weeks that I was gone was one of the most eye-opening experiences ever.”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “I’m so sorry,”

“There was a couple, they were engaged,” he smiled, “And I could see us being them. B-but,” he paused, “She was murdered and there was nothing we could have done to stop it. Her fiancé, he was so broken. . .”

“But I’m here, right now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you are, but it made me reevaluate us and what we are,”

She sat back with wide eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re-”

“Absolutely not, I couldn’t imagine life without you,” he kissed her deeply, “It made me realize how badly I don’t want to lose you.”

She placed a hand on his cheek with tears in her eyes, beginning to understand what he was saying.

“I’m so ready to share me with you, all of me, and I don’t want to waste anymore time because our time here is so precious,” he smiled, “It made me realize how much I love you, seeing all of that.”

She pressed her lips to his held him so close that there was no space left between them. The kissing grew heated and more passionate and sweat began to pool at her forehead. She pulled away with a smile and tugged him as she stood up.

Spencer held her hand tight as they walked to the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. Spencer pulled her to him with hands on her waist, staring down at her with tear streaks across his cheeks. She smiled up at him and kissed his nose, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t want you to feel like you have to just because you’re upset or because of anything I’ve ever said to you-”

“I want to.”

The confidence in his voice and the look in his eyes was something familiar to her, she had felt it in her own body before awhile ago. He leaned down slowly and captured her lips in his own strong ones, a smile crossing his face. She wrapped her arms around him and he lifted her up, to her surprise, and carried her to the bed.

The city lights streamed in from the window, she had a perfect view with large windows to accompany it.

He laid her down gently and allowed her to run her hands over his chest, studying him. Adoringly he gazed at her while she took him in with her eyes. She had an artist’s mind, he remembered, she liked to study people and every piece of them.

She was trying to drink in every bit of him that her mind could allow, she was finally getting to know him physically and she wanted to remember every little detail. Every little freckle, scar, birthmark and indent on his body.

“You’re gorgeous,” she whispered with a laugh.

He blushed, “Thank you,”

She met his eyes before letting her hands trail lower, running over the bulge in his pants. He let his eyes slide shut and groaned at the feeling of her palming him. It felt heavenly, this was a feeling he never knew existed. It was so perfect.

She yanked his belt off and slowly unzipped him, allowing him time to adjust to the feelings. He nodded his head when she began to tug down on his pants, asking with the look in her eyes if it was okay.

Once his pants were off, he too began to run his hands over her hips and the jeans that clothed her. She smiled at him and tugged down on her pants, allowing him to help her slide them off, leaving them in only their under garments.

His lips parted in awe, he had never seen her like this. Her hair spilled all around her and the lights from the outside made her look so ethereal. She was everything he wanted, and he wanted her now.

Slowly he lowered himself to her chest, placing his hands on each of her breasts and squeezing lightly. She ran a hand through his long curls and smiled as he ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. A gasp escaped her mouth as he finally dipped down to suck on her.

Her body was on fire.

He could feel just how wet for him she was and he never imagined a feeling quite like it. He groaned as he switched to her other breast, taking her in his mouth once again. His tongue swirled around the throbbing bud and the joy it brought to him to hear her moan his name only made him want her even more.

If that was possible.

He pulled away and immediately she was straddling him, grinding her hips against his own. She pushed him back on the bed and he settled into her duvet, closing his eyes and focusing on the feeling of her mouth on his stomach.

He gasped when her fingers curled around the seam of his underwear, tickling him the slightest bit.

“Is this okay?” she asked quietly.

He opened his eyes and peered over at her, “Keep going,”

She smiled and continued to pull his underwear off, slowly sliding it down his legs. Her focus was solely on him as she leaned down to take his length into her mouth.

He shuddered violently and he gripped the sheets tightly.

“Relax, Reid, just close your eyes.”

He nodded and she went back to work, bobbing her head up and down gently. He whimpered as she placed a hand at the base of his cock, beginning to pump it with her mouth. His hand found it’s way into her hair that dangled over his thighs and he tugged each time her mouth squeezed around him.

His whimpers turned to cries of pleasure and soon he found himself teetering over the edge.

“I’m ready, please,”

She pulled away and clambered over him, kissing his lips with desire and hunger that neither of them had felt.

“I-Is this your first time?” he asked quietly.

She pulled away and smiled at him before shaking his head, “It’s been a long time, but it isn’t my first,”

“A-Are you sure you want me-”

“Nothing will ever change my mind about you, and I hope that it doesn’t change your mind about me,”

“Of course it doesn’t,” he said as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone.

She smiled, “All that matters is that I love you and I want to this to be everything you want and more.”

Tears brimmed his eyes once more and he kissed her forehead, “I love you too,”

She pulled him close and laid back on the bed as his body towered over hers, a hunger in his eyes that made her nearly come undone on the spot. Slowly he peeled her panties away and off her legs, his eyes never leaving her own.

“You can look, Spencer,”

His eyes traveled down her body and to her throbbing core. His hands roamed over her body and shook with excitement. She placed a hand over his own and guided it to her center, nodding.

His hands explored her folds delicately, rubbing her nub when her moans became louder. She was dripping for him and it made him so hungry for her.

He reached for his erect cock, stroking it slightly before lining himself up with her. She leaned up on her elbows and placed a hand over his, guiding himself closer to her entrance. She held his gaze and urged him to push, “We can go slow,”

He nodded before finally leaning into her, pushing his entire length inside of her. His moans carried over hers and he shuddered, leaning over her body to take some deep breaths. She arched her back with a hand around his neck, moaning his name.

He twitched inside of her at the sound of his name and immediately felt the urge to begin pumping in and out of her slowly. His movements were soft and agile, paying close attention to her body language and slowly figuring out what she liked best.

“Does it hurt?” he asked timidly.

She shook her head, “It feels perfect, Spence.” she said breathily.

He finally pulled away to look at her as he sped up his pace. Her breasts were bouncing with each thrust he gave and her lips were parted in what seemed bliss. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her eyebrows were knitted in ecstasy. The sweat covering her body made her shine in the lights of the city coming in from the windows.

She looked like an angel, he thought.

Her eyes open and he slowed his thrusting, holding her wide-eyed stare. She smiled up at him and let loose a small laugh, one that he loved so much. She pulled him close and kissed him deeply as he stopped inside of her.

“I-Is everything okay-?”

“I just wanted to look at you,” she whispered as she ran a thumb over his nose.

Spencer smiled, tears pooling in his orbs once again. They trailed over his cheeks and onto her own, the emotion slowly building up in her. Soon she had tears of her own spilling down the sides of her face.

“Happy tears?” he asked her, placing her hair behind her ear.

She nodded, “Happy tears.”

He smiled before placing a very passionate kiss on her lips, beginning to move inside of her once again. Spencer watched her very closely as she began to squirm even more beneath his body.

“G-God I’m so close,” he breathed out, “Jesus. . .”

She looked up to him and held his gaze as his thrusting turned into pounding as he held himself to her. His eyes finally met hers and she watched as he came undone inside of her. The moans of her name in her ear sent her coming quickly undone as well, clinging to him with desperate cries of pleasure as he finished the last of his bucking hips against her.

For awhile they laid there, tangled in each other’s limbs and coming down from the pleasurable high. She tangled her hands into his messy curls and massage his head, his breath heavy against her neck.

He finally pulled out of her, another moan coming from both of them.

He leaned down and kissed her long and hard, his tongue probing the insides of her mouth gently. She giggled against his lips and pulled him down next to her. Propped up on her elbows she placed a hand on his chest and drew soft circles. He smiled up at her, studying her face.

“That was incredible,” he said quietly, placing a hand on her cheek.

She turned to him, “Was it everything you expected?” she looked away from his eyes with a sad look.

He frowned, “It was everything and so much more,” he made her look at him, “I feel closer to you than I ever have with anyone else in my life before.”

She let out a small, happy sob at his words. Leaning into him she kissed the palm of his calloused hand smiled up at him, “It’s not an earthly feeling, is it?”

He shook his head and patted the spot next to him. She quickly snuggled under the covers and nuzzled up to his chest.

“I don’t think anything can explain this,”

She scoffed, “Doctor Spencer Reid is stumped?”

THE MASTERLIST | REQUEST DETAILS

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds request #request #fanfic #fic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid request

1K notes · View notes

ikemenshakespeare · 4 years

Text

Leonardo Da Vinci X Bella Swan (OC)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,366

Warnings: N/A

Authors Note: @voltagesmutter was the winner for my 200 follower giveaway, its been a few weeks already but I’m happy to present her fic! I hope everyone enjoys, don’t forget to leave feedback cause I love hearing from you all. 💗

Bella’s footsteps echoed faintly down the hall as she made her way towards Leonardo’s room. The morning sun shined through the large windows of the manor, seeming like the perfect start to any morning. It had been one week since she arrived in the mansion and found out all about its residents. Since that day she’s tried keeping her distance as much as possible from others around her, until last night that is. Leonardo Da Vinci himself had the nerve to ask her to meet him in his room the next morning. What’s most strange is she had the nerve to accept his proposal and was now approaching his doorway. As she raised her hand to knock, he just so happened to walk out and meet her gaze.

“Cara Mia, You’re a little earlier then I expected. Excited to see me are you?” The light smell of tobacco filled her senses.

“I have a name you know.” She snapped back. “I didn’t sleep well last night so I decided now was as good a time as any. Why did you want to see me this morning?” Leonardo wasn’t fazed by her attitude, he only grinned softly. Something in his expression made her wanna let her guard down, to make herself at home in his presence. She knew better though. She mustn’t, not when there was still so much about him she didn’t understand.

“Bella, would you like to go on a date with me this afternoon?” It took her a moment to process what he’d just said. When it finally sank in her eyebrows knitt together.

“I’m sorry, This is only my second time speaking to you and you’re asking me on a date?”

“Maybe date was the wrong word to use. I wanna take you outside the mansion so you can enjoy yourself instead of being cooped up here. I already asked Comtes permission and he said it was a fine idea. I can have Sebastian prepare us a carriage whenever you’re ready.”

“Wow, you must think you’re a real Casanova. You planning to sweep me off my feet or something?” She scrunched up ger face at her own sour words, why? Why were the snarky remarks flying from her mouth unbidden. When in reality all she really wanted to say-

“So is that a yes?”

“...yes.” She glanced passed his shoulder and into his room. It was a mess of papers, books, and some other things she couldn’t see a daily use for. He was interesting, there was no denying that. If she had a few more weeks to spend here there was no harm in trying to make an acquaintance. To learn more about Leonardo Da Vinci, to have some knowledge to take home with her.

“Would you like me to get you from your room in a bit?” She took a step back from him.

“Actually, I think I’ll wait for you in the library. I’m already dressed so don’t leave me waiting to long. Got it?” With that she dashed off in the other direction. Leo’s eyes followed, her light blonde hair danced at her waist as she rushed through the hallway. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Leonardo got ready quickly and they met just where she said she’d be. To his surprise she was looking at a book he didn’t think she’d find any interest in.

“Botany huh? I didn’t know ladies like yourself were interested in those things.” She raised her head from the text and diagrams she was looking at.

“I’ll have you know, where I come from many women are educated on things like this.” She glanced at what page she left off on before closing her book. “But honestly I’m not as interested in the technical stuff as I am in the look of the plants and their habitats. It helps me be more accurate in my art.” As you stood up from your seat and headed towards the door, Leonardo gazed at you with wonder.

“So you’re an artist then? You’re quite the woman, Cara mia.” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I’m alright.” Her smile was faint. It was the first she could muster since being at the mansion. How were his meaningless compliments and flirty attitude breaking down her walls so easily? It made her wanna hand back what he was dishing out. None the less, she spoke up again. “Leonardo, i’d like to go to a park today if you don’t mind taking me. I can’t promise to talk to you all that much since I wanna sketch, but if you insist on getting me out of the mansion that’s what I’d like to do.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Leo had a confident grin on his face as he made his way over to her. He casually looped his right arm around hers. Damn, Just when she thought she had the upper hand.

“Uh- this won’t be necessary.” She tried pulling away from his grip, but he was already turning down the staircase with her. He beckoned Sebastian to ready the carriage. The ride was quite mostly, the two of them small talked for a while before she began to indulged herself once more in her reading. She only lifted her head again when the ride came to a stop. Leonardo hopped out first, then she took the hand he offered to follow. the scenery around was beauitful. The trees were much larger then most she’d seen at any of the new parks in her time. The trunks were large and the autumn weather was just starting to turn the leaves different shades of orange, red, and yellows. Immediately she was emersed in it all. She was glad to have remembered her art book and quickly took it out to begin sketching. She didn’t even bother to sit down, her eyes gleamed at what she saw. Soon she’d forgotten Leonardo was there at all.

“You know, it might be easier if you took a seat.” He finally mentioned. He was already sitting on the bench, patting the spot beside him. She blushed.

“Yeah- you’re probably right...” She made her way over, just then the wind blew past. The gust caught her off guard, the hat she was wearing flew off her head and through the air a little ways away. “Oh no!” She ran over to catch it and Leo did the same. However, with her recent streak of bad luck, it was no surprise when she tripped in the process.

“Bella!” Leo swooped in just before she could hit the ground. They locked eyes for what felt like minutes, when in reality it was only a few seconds. She’d almost forgotten what got them in this predicament in the first place. Then the breeze picked up again, causeing the hat to flutter in the corner of her eye.

“My hat- it’s still over there, let me go grab it.” She shuffled to steady herself nervously, but before she could take off again he gave her head a soft pat.

“I’ve got it, wait here. I wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” Watching him retrieve the hat she got lost in thought. He was very handsome, his hair looked so soft unlike the rest of him. His chest was broad and his muscles visible even under his clothes. Was it possible that even spending such a small period of time with someone could start changing her feelings completely? What had it been, a few hours? She thought about that for a moment before he returned. He gave a winning grin and she found herself giving a grin of her own.

“Thank you.” She reached out to take the hat but it was already being placed on top her head.

“It fits you well, you look beauitful Cara Mia.” The blush from earlier crept back on her cheeks.

“I’ll let that one slide this once... thanks again.” They walked back together to the bench where Bella continued her sketch. She was so concentrated on her work, she’d never noticed him watching her with those same eyes she’d given him not long before. This was the start of something great, although unexpected.

#Ikemen Vampire #Leonardo Da Vinci #Otome #Bella Swan #OC #Fluff

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bbq-hawks-wings · 4 years

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Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck.

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person).

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

#long post anon #autumn-foxfire #let's talk hawks

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peachywander · 3 years

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All asks

Holy shit, this will be so much fun B-) *cracks knuckles*

Ask me: FANDOM EDITION

A - Your current OTP

Uhhh pff,,, skeleton dance I think?? I mean sure, skelley dance is always my current OTP, ngl. They're basically made for eachother, hell, even craig himself wore tshirts and stuff with wander hugging hater ifthisisn'tcannonthenidkwhatitis

B - A pairing you initially didn’t consider but someone changed your mind

To be honest,, wander x beza. I used to dislike every wander x girl ship bcs I see him as gae and nothing else. But I have a friend who does lots of art with them so I think it grew on me more and more with time?? Now I think they would look cute together, even if i'm still not super big on it.

C - A pairing you have never liked and probably never will

Wnder x domi. No comment, I despise it with all my heart 😂😂 Like I said earlier, I don't like most of wander x girl ships, and domi really hates wander. Sooo this ship simply doesn't make sense to me,, lmfao.

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

I think Twi x Flash from mlp. Yeah, I thought twi was cute when crushing on him in the 1st EG movie but they don't seem to have that chemistry I was hoping for. Plus I haven't seen any recent episodes of mlp in a long time, though I heard ppl say that he was mean to her once, if I remember well? Anyways, doesn't work so much for me.

E - Have you added anything stupid/cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

Besides memes/ shitposts, not really. Check @gunxball if you want to see posts of mine back when I was into gumball 2 yrs ago (golly i miss those times)

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Probably su (2016-2019) or kid vs kat (2011-2014)

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

Why yes, of course I do. cosmo x wanda from fop. They were so adorbs together esp in the first 2 seasons. Don't like how they got so flanderized with time, their dynamic was absolutely destroyed, and my day was ruined when I found out.

H - Do you prefer characters from real action series or anime series

I don't watch either lolol

But I think anime.

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

Dislike the fandom, not the show itself? Probably hzbin hotel. The show has a pretty neat concept and animation and it had such a big impact on my artstyle when I first watched it. But the fandom? Absolute hell. (pun intended)

From shipping wars, to pestering vivz, anything is possible. Glad I haven't actually interacted with that part of the fandom.

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

Not a show but among us. Back in september/october last year, my tl was FILLED with among us, up and down. Made me a lil tired of it but once I tried playing that game, I couldn't stop. Also the owlhouse, fell in love with the artstyle and story.

K - How do you feel about the other people in your current fandom

I don't have a current fandom. Not feeling in the mood + school + inactivity bcs of school. So I'll say abt my latest fandom, which was animaney. Well, people were really nice, and they seemed to enjoy the reboot. Nothing more to say tbh,,

L - Your favorite fanartist/author gives you one request, what do you ask for

Ummm I don't really like giving rqs to my fave artists, i don't wanna bother them haha

M - Your favorite fanart or fanartist

I don't know aaaa, prolly toonipi but she also draws ocs, not just fanart.

N - Your favorite fanfiction or fanauthor

Anything cute or sappy with skelleydance (NO nsfw)

O - Choose a song at random, which OTP does it remind you of

Lasers and feelings. Skellydance again. It matches sO well-

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

I used to have a skatepark AU ft. su chars but never put anything over here. I still have the sketches from 9th grade lmao.

Q - A ship you’ve abandoned and why

To be completely honest, Amydot. Up until s3 they really gave me possible ship vibes. They interacted a lot, and peri discovered her metal powers thanks to amy. But after s3 they hardly ever interacted anymore (besides that one ep from s5 with the kindergarden). I was so dissapointed, but hey lapdot isn't so bad anyway, right?

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

Back in 2014 I would have said chred from angry birds, definitely. Not many really shipped them, and when I saw some fanart of them on dA everyone would say "ew, gae". Well, 2014 everyone. I was always like "so?? i like that ship, what's the problem??"

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon

Uhmm, i headcanon darwin from tawog that he likes to yodel lol

T - If you mostly have homoships, do you have any heteroships

I think my ships are 50-50, but here are some examples:

Larsdie

Stevnnie

Blckeye

Fluttrcord

Beeckard

Starc0

Tanyamao

Foxodile

Pennball

Carwin

U - If you mostly have heteroships, do you have any homoships

Same as T. Another examples:

Skelleydance

Wnderingeye

Sylava

Lumty

Rupphre

Pearlmthyst

Badgrmao

Bubbline

Flutterdsh

Patbob

V - Are you one of those fans who can’t watch anything without shipping

Lol no. Tbh, i'm not super big on shipping either. I only slighty like/dislike any ship i listed earlier (with the exception of skelleydance, i'm too in love with that ship)

W - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

wakko warner (animaney)

wander (woy)

fluttershy (mlp)

amethyst (su)

bubbles (ppg)

X - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

skelleydance (woy)

lumty (toh)

stevnnie (su)

Y - A fandom you’re in but have no ships from

kid cosmic (or maybe I do ship papa g w/ chuck), animaney, okko, gravity flls

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

That one fan made episode from su called the smothering, it was so freaking amazing. It helped a lot in relieveing the pain of that big hiatus from 2017 (which was the biggest one, i literally turned into a skeleton waiting for new eps). Loved peri's needy personality, as well as lappy's playful one. It was so well written, like it could be perfectly fit as a role reversal episode in the main show.

#the reason i typed the ships like that is to not appear in the tags #ask

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five-miles-over · 4 years

Text

‘Aftermath’ Part 6: These Palace Walls (Commodus x OC)

Summary: Caesonia is flooded with paranoia after being surprised with gifts, and struggles with her own haunting past as she gets closer to Commodus. Meanwhile, Commodus’s plans to bring back the games are not well-received by all.

Warning: Angst, mentions of parental abuse, an incest kiss (spoiler: it doesn’t involve Commodus), masturbation, and a sexual fantasy

Word Count: 2,925

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here

The parchment crinkled in her pale, dry fingertips as Caesonia re-read the poem found among the plate of cosmetics. It was romantic, like the type a lover would address to their beloved, or perhaps it was the type that an artist would write to his muse, usually a maiden of heavenly beauty.

Her paranoia and fear made her wish to assume the letter was mistakenly given to her. Who would shower such affection upon her anyways? She was just a general’s daughter and, in the eyes of the emperor, she was also the daughter of a traitor. Yet, Caesonia could not hide her blush at the prospect of being wooed so tenderly. After all, she was a maiden of sixteen - if her father were not banished to Antioch, he would be searching for someone for her to marry. Even if he did not give her the love she wished from a father, he would still make sure that her betrothed was someone worthy of being a general’s son-in-law. It was no secret her father loved his reputation more than his own kith and kin.

On the night your soft, finely curved lips met mine,

I witnessed your rosy cheeks bloom from that rose-like face of thine.”

If it were truly addressed to her, then it must have been from the Emperor himself. He was the only person she’d ever kissed; it made logical sense. The question of his motives, however, remained unanswered. Did he wish to make her his concubine? Her servitude in exchange for her father’s life? It was possible that his solitude and recent events have made him crave things he’d never craved so badly before.

Caesonia refused to believe that he was truly as mad as the citizens of Rome made him seem. Having been the first son born in the royal Aurelian family after at least five generations of adopted emperors, it was truly startling to know that Commodus would be the one not receiving the crown. She could only imagine how devastating it would be for the prince himself, being raised in royalty for his whole life all to be suddenly cast aside like a nobody. Wouldn’t any man, given such circumstances, succumb to dark thoughts?

But, despite her sympathy for the Emperor, she knew she had to be careful. If there was anything that her time in the Roman military camps had taught her, it was that she needed to be vigilant at all times. From this sudden doubt occupying her mind, Caesonia found herself pouring small portions of the perfume out of the tiny window, onto the surrounding ivy. She thought that if the perfumes made the plants wilt, then it might be toxic for her. In all honesty, Caesonia didn’t even know why she did such a thing; the suspicion of being poisoned just came automatically to her.

“Lady Caesonia,” a voice called to her. She turned around to find a servant outside her chamber holding another pink dress, folded neatly. Caesonia curtsied before the servant, “Pray tell me what news you have brought for me, my lady.”

The servant tried to remain emotionless, despite being addressed with such a lofty term. “The Emperor has ordered you to share his morning meal with him, Lady Caesonia. And to wear this,” she handed Caesonia the carnation pink stola. “Would you like me to assist you in putting it on, Lady Caesonia?”

“No, thank you,” the young woman replied. “Might I know if Caesar has any particular criteria for my hair or possibly my…face?” The servant recognized Caesonia’s fright, answering calmly that there was no such requirement imposed by the emperor.

Without wasting any more time, Caesonia changed out of the coarse toga and into the stola given to her. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she tied the magenta ribbons of the garment around her shoulders, her bust, and her waist necessary for the outfit to be complete. She was still unsure about leaving her hair loose, but kept it such anyway and placed a few drops of the perfume on her neck.

Caesonia gingerly held the servant’s hand as if the servant were her elder sister and not a maid. Even while growing up, she always held a soft spot for those who did menial work. She could always trust them to be plain and transparent with their words, while the nobility always schemed and deceived.

Her father would have no patience for such thoughts from her, harshly scolding her that this was against the Roman way of thinking. That the perfect Roman admired wealth and power, all while doing everything it took to preserve their status. That she, Caesonia Quintina, ought to be grateful for being born to a powerful general and start behaving like it. Scolding herself for thinking of her father while being led to the emperor, she tried to brush her thoughts aside and look poised.

Commodus was already at the long, wooden table which was laden with cheeses, dates, honey, and freshly baked bread. Under his breath, he sighed in relief that she’d come to him. She was nothing like Lucilla, but his inner demons had convinced him that Caesonia would reject him too. “Ave Caesar*,” Caesonia greeted him, daintily approaching the emperor. When she kissed his ring, he caught a whiff of the perfume she wore. Recognizing it as one of the perfumes he ordered to be brought to her last night, Commodus couldn’t control his smile; it was a signal she liked him too.

At his gesture, she obediently sat near him at the table. Caesonia was hesitant to eat, only allowing herself to start chewing on a piece of bread after the emperor was halfway finished with his breakfast. Too afraid of being impudent, she remained silent, just like her father said women ought to be. Caesonia couldn’t stop thinking about her earlier act driven by fear. She hoped that no one would ever find out about her suspecting the perfumes; she’d be devastated if anyone ever knew. The emperor would be furious with her, and her father would say she was unworthy of being treated properly. If she weren’t in the presence of the most powerful man in Rome, Caesonia would’ve broken down into tears right there while thinking about her father’s criticism.

Meanwhile, invigorated by desire and emboldened by proximity, Commodus leaned in to give her a kiss. On the mouth or on the cheek, he would’ve preferred either but quickly retreated his lips when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a look of fear and of sorrow. Was she afraid of him? Were his actions of last night too rash for her? Or…were his inner demons right in saying that she loathed him? Perhaps she was thinking about ending this meal as quickly as possible in order to escape his presence. That could be the reason why she seemed to eat so little - a general’s daughter would usually be habituated with eating well.

Years ago, the idea of being rejected by someone would’ve made his fists clench and his knuckles turn white, but not anymore. Commodus had seen rejection in its various colors, and had grown used to fighting it. Like a seasoned gladiator, he fought rejection every time and won. When his father rejected him in favor of Maximus, he took the life of the late Caesar and brought the throne into his own hands. When the people of Rome rejected him for Maximus, he killed the blasted Spaniard and won their respect. No one dared to speak against him like Maximus did. When Lucilla rejected him for Maximus and the Senate, he’d risen from the dead and slain their leader Senator Gracchus. Along with her hopes for a Roman republic, he’d banished her from the palace forever. Now that there was no Maximus, his newest round would be easier, and his prize would certainly be worth the efforts.

“I must go now, my lady.” He finally broke the silence when it seemed that she’d finished her plate. Caesonia turned towards him, “To where, your Highness?”

“My duties,” Commodus answered in a tone that reminded her whom she was sitting near and whose hospitality she ought not to insult. “I must see about the armies and the new recruits to the Praetorian Guard. Your father is to be replaced.”

“And moreover,” he continued with a slightly brighter voice. “I am to continue planning the games I originally held to honor my late father. You do enjoy the games?”

“Certainly, Caesar,” Caesonia quickly said, nodding with hope she’d given the right answer. “Good.” The emperor got up from his seat and Caesonia followed, trying not to be rude. As the two of them rose to their feet, their hands innocently brushed against each other, causing her to quietly apologize for the incident.

Another maid came to her side to lead her back to her new chamber as Caesonia watched him leave. “Caesar!” She called out to him, blinking profusely when he turned around. “I-I thank you for inviting me to share your meal with you. It was a kind gesture of you and I-I found your company agreeable,” she remarked, simultaneously internally chastising herself for her choice of words.

“Welcome,” was all Commodus said, nodding his head regally in acknowledgment of her words. He did not want to seem too emotional or show his weakness before her, but on the inside, her gratitude delighted him like a flower delighted a honeybee.

———————————————————————————————————

“Take a good hard look at people’s ruling principle, especially of the wise, what they run away from & what they seek out.”

The Caesar may have been long dead, but his stoic teachings lay in the hearts of many a Roman. In his villa, the young man flipped the pages of the book on stoicism. He admired the philosopher emperor, and was certain that many of the intellectuals of the city shared his devotion. “Philomenus!” a female voice called sharply.

“I’m coming, sister!” He closed the book he was reading and hid it before anyone else could find it. With the emperor’s new strict laws against treason, everyone had to watch their words. Not even Philomenus Plutarchus, the leader of first cohort of the Roman army, was safe to speak his mind.

When he came into the kitchen, his sister Claudia was cooking while his younger brother and other sister were playing loudly. “Brother, brother!” The little boy ran up to Philomenus, jumping up and down. “Gladiatores violenti**! The games are soon to begin again!” In response, Philomenus merely ruffled his brother’s hair, preferring to turn his attention towards his sister.

Claudia was quick to give him a bowl of porridge and calm their younger siblings. “The emperor is coming to oversee the army,” she reprimanded her older brother. “Do you want to upset his Highness with your tardiness?”

“Claudia,” Philomenus complained through a mouthful of grain. “Don’t ‘Claudia’ me, we both know it’s important.” He pulled his sister close and fed her a spoonful of porridge from his own bowl. “You know, you’ve almost made it feel as if Mama were still here.”

She sighed as he continued to eat, “Mama and Papa would be proud knowing that you still serve Rome loyally. I’m only trying the best I can to keep our house a loving home.”

“You’ve done more than the best, Claudia,” he assured her. “Our brother Julius and little sister Aurelia are thriving as they should be. Mama would be pleased at how well you’re taking care of them.” To affirm his statement, Philomenus pecked his sister on the lips. It was something they’d been doing with each other as teenagers while assuming the roles of the ‘mother’ and the ‘father’ of the household. At this point, it felt almost mundane.

“It seems the whole town is talking about the new gladiatorial games that the Emperor is planning,” Claudia remarked, changing the subject.

“He cannot keep ruling like this. Games after games; he is draining money from the empire while the plague ravages us and the Germanic barbarians are left unattended.” Philomenus shook his head. “This is nothing like the Rome that Emperor Marcus Aurelius envisioned.”

He continued ranting to his sister, “Commodus is trying to take absolute control of everything. He is dividing and conquering his way to being the sole bearer of power. First Lady Lucilla, Senator Gracchus, General Quintus…sooner or later, he’ll have no one to advise him, no one to keep his powers in check. Claudia, we’ve known about this man on the throne since we were children. His own father had no faith in him!”

“I know,” she answered in a low voice, hoping that he’d do the same. “And I also know Papa and you were of those men who still consider the philosopher to be Rome’s true emperor. We may be of high status, but our situation is dire as is; we must do what it takes to survive.”

“There is a difference between surviving and living, Claudia.”

She fixed the toga he wore, “Philomenus, please. I know that the Spaniard caused a movement when he arrived, but his death has sent a message to those who dare oppose the Emperor.”

“We cannot let fear stray us from supporting the side of truth,” he said fiercely. “Claudia, no tyrant can forever suppress the innate freedom of speech. Those who dare to control others will find themselves under the control of others.”

———————————————————————————————————

Nighttime, as always, found the emperor alone in his study. With the Senators not daring to speak against him, too occupied with the chaos within their own circles, Commodus found his work surprisingly reduced. Yet, an excellent emperor would always be on the lookout for something coming. There was always a period of calm before the storm would inevitably strike the empire. And with Lucilla and her tonics gone, there was no one urging him to go to sleep. For a moment, the thought this prospect made him feel like a little boy allowed to have as many sweets as he liked.

What might it be like to have a wife, he thought, someone who would coax him to join her in bed every night. She would call him with the most charming of words of affection, and her touch…her touch would be more overwhelming than the lightning bolt of Jupiter and the trident of Neptune together.

The mere thought of being touched so sensually awakened the lustful side of Commodus, and he stroked himself through his robes a few times. Reaching through his clothing, Commodus wrapped his fingers around his length and slowly began to pump himself. Closing his eyes, he reveled in a fantasy and let his mind run free. A young lady stood at the entrance of his study with a red-lipped smile and a white nightgown that traced her curves - a sight that would be for his eyes and no one else’s. “Commodus,” she sweetly called to him. Her face became more recognizable to him as she walked closer to his desk.

“Caesonia?” His lip curled upwards at the mere utterance of her name. He sensed her pleasant, familiar perfume as she hugged him from behind and kissed his temple. “What brings you here so late, my love?,” Commodus asked her.

“The children have slept, dearest, but I couldn’t. The bed felt lonely without you.”

Commodus patted his thigh, beckoning for her to sit on his lap. “I shall be with you soon, my love. I promise,” he grinned as she leaned against his shoulder.

“You need your rest, Commodus. Come to bed, my sweet,” she begged him. Her mouth nipped at the nape of his neck, kissing the sensitive skin. “Come to bed, please…”

He sighed at her alluring persuasion. “A good emperor cannot refuse his empress,” he chuckled, placing his quill down. Before she could ask, he snaked his arm around Caesonia’s knees, lifting her and carrying her to their bedroom.

“Commodus!” She chided him playfully, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Don’t play innocent, you saucy nymph…” The two of them laughed as they fell onto the soft, imperial mattress. He slowly slid her dress down to her ankles, her aphrodisiacal scent filling his lungs and her glistening wetness catching his eye.

Still stroking himself, his thumb began to fondle his tip and the emperor bit his lip to stifle his grunts. He imagined enjoying her beautiful face and body all to himself, and how wonderful it would be to hear the sweet moans falling from her lips when they made love. Throwing his head back and groaning, his pace grew quicker as he fantasized about passionately taking her again and again, watching her come undone at his mercy every time. And when they were finally spent from their amorous deeds, she would whisper sweet nothings into his hair while he kissed the tips of her breasts.

The sticky release in his hand interrupted his fantasy, putting an end to the erotic illusion Commodus had indulged in. A frightful dream, life is, Commodus thought to himself as he wished he didn’t have to return to the real world so soon. He wiped his hand on a piece of parchment - only boys wiped their hands on their clothing, and the parchment didn’t have anything of value on it, anyway.

Taking a deep breath, Commodus continued to busy himself with thoughts about eventually dissolving the Senate of Rome. In his eyes, it was better to stay awake and confront enemies, than to sleep and let himself be tortured by them.

*Ave Caesar = Hail Caesar

** Gladiatores violent = violent gladiators

#gladiator 2000 #commodus #emperor commodus #gladiator #gladiator au #gladiator fic

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Text

Green or Blue

The Greatest Thing Chapter 8

Moulin Rouge Fanfic

Christian x OC

Words: 3k

Weeks turned to months and Christian felt himself becoming more and more familiar with Paris. When he first arrived, he would dance awkwardly to the rhythm of the night, and now his movements were fluid and second nature. His time was spent mostly writing or rehearsing, with the play slowly taking over his life. Getting to know Satine more and more, he grew to admire her, falling in love with the contrast that she represented. But, he knew they could never truly belong to each other. She was to be the Duke's, and he... well, he was beginning to wonder if his heart was truly his to give or if it still belonged to another. He thought of Estelle in fleeting moments, finding that the more he wallowed, the more disillusioned with this life he would become. Crumpled up papers littered his floor, the remnants of letters he destroyed before sending. None of them would be enough to undo the hurt he had undoubtedly caused her. He just hoped that she was happy wherever she was, and that she was being treated like the wonderful creature she was.

Words seemed to fail him every now and then as of late. He was stuck, unable to get past this one part in his draft where the penniless sitar player won over the courtesan. After spending hours with Satine trying to come up with a dialogue that felt natural, he'd gone home frustrated. He ran his hand through his hair as he fell back on his bed. The fact that the scene was later in the play comforted him, since he would have time to finish it, but he was still frustrated. He used to be able to wax on about love for hours, but lately he just found himself going through the motions. He could write treatises on freedom, beauty, and truth... but love? He was struggling. It vexed him even more that he couldn't write on the one topic he valued the most. His eyes fell over on the forgotten manuscript he had started when he first arrived in Paris. It had been left untouched for weeks, sitting there on the table and mocking him. His greatest love story, a story about falling in love while falling out of society, didn't have an ending. In truth, he didn't know how to end it, and thinking about how to end it was like a slap in the face. He could end it with the lovers growing apart, like some of the disillusioned literature of the time, but he wanted to give it a happy ending, but he also wanted that ending to be truthful. He sighed loudly. He could have a happy ending. Satine had offered him that happiness, and he could always go back to London if he was desperate enough. However, would he really be happy in either of those places? With Satine, he would never fully have her be his, and as much as he'd like to think he could handle that, deep down he knew it would tear him apart. In London, he'd grow bitter with society. Christian groaned.

"Is your play not going well?" a voice asked through the hole in his ceiling.

Christian looked up to find his short Parisian artist peering down at him.

"Toulouse, do you ever wonder if you made the right choice?" Christian asked.

Toulouse grimaced. "I feel like it's too early to be discussing what ifs. I think that if you've made a choice, then something told you it was the right thing to do in that moment."

Christian nodded. "And if you end up feeling miserable about it later?"

"Then you go upstairs to your neighbor's apartment and let him cheer you up," Toulouse grinned.

Christian smirked and shook his head. "I suppose I could use a distraction."

"Très bien," Toulouse winked before disappearing back into his apartment.

Christian went up the stairs and into the space, finding Toulouse staring intently at a canvas as he compared it to the woman in front of him.

"Christian, have you ever met Mademoiselle Avril?" Toulouse asked, gesturing to the woman.

"No, I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Although, I have seen you dance, Mademoiselle. You are quite good," he smiled.

"Call me Jane," she chuckled. "And, merci, Monsieur. They don't call me La Mélinite for nothing."

"Am I interrupting?" Christian asked.

"Not at all," Toulouse replied. "Besides, perhaps Jane can help with whatever is making you sigh so loud."

"I doubt that," Christian said with a sad smile.

"Try me," Jane challenged.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm not from here. I'm originally from London. I left a few months ago after being disowned by my father for wanting to join the Bohemian movement and be a writer," Christian told her.

"You're the one writing the play they're putting on at the Moulin, aren't you? It seems like you've achieved your goal," she replied.

"Yes and no," Christian sighed. "You see, I want to write about love, but I can't."

"Have you experienced love?" Jane asked.

"That's what I asked when he first got here!" Toulouse chuckled.

"I have," Christian said adamantly.

"Did she not love you back?" Jane followed up.

"I... I don't know," Christian admitted.

"You didn't ask her?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Well, I never really told her that I loved her either," Christian replied.

"Toulouse, you might have warned me that your friend is an idiot," Jane teased.

"He's friends with me, Jane, I thought it was implied," Toulouse winked.

Jane shook her head. "Men. Scoundrels of the Earth."

"Not intentionally," Christian reassured her.

"Oh, I know, some of you are not intentionally," she winked. "That doesn't change the fact that you are, though. However, if you never knew for certain that it was love, then perhaps that's why you can't write it. Deep down, you feel like a fraud. Or, maybe you just can't stand giving happiness to your characters when you denied it for yourself."

"That's silly," Christian replied.

"Hey, I'm not Freud, I'm just a woman who is trying to help you," she shrugged. "Have you spoken to her since you left?"

"No," Christian admitted.

"Thought about her?" Toulouse asked.

"Yes," Christian sighed. "When life gets quiet, she creeps in. Sometimes I'll see or do something and I'll think about how she might have enjoyed that. Sometimes I feel guilty when I'm with Satine, but then I have to remember that she could be with someone else. I'll write things and I'll realize they're conversations that she and I have had."

"You miss her," Jane commented sadly.

"I do."

"Do you still love her?" Toulouse asked as he swapped out to a new canvas.

"I... I don't know. I love what I remember, but she could be different now. I know I'm different now. She could hate me for leaving. She could have just been humoring me when I was there, and now she could be with someone who's better for her," Christian replied.

"Describe her," Toulouse smirked.

"What do you want to know?" Christian asked, sitting down on a backwards chair, resting his chin on the back.

"Everything. What does she look like? What does she think like?" Jane smiled, sitting down next to Toulouse.

"Well, she's my star. Her name is Estelle, but I've called her Ellie since we were kids," Christian smiled wistfully, "She's always been very headstrong, but she wants to do the right thing and sometimes that will outweigh her own wants. Her hair is dark, like roasted chestnuts in the winter. She usually has it pulled back out of her face these days, but back when we were younger, she always left it free so that she could feel the wind in her hair. It was quite funny, because she has these curls, and when she would run, they would bounce like a spring, always hitting her in the face. Perhaps that's why she has it pulled back now, so that it doesn't assault her face. She's pale, but not in a sickly way. It's almost as if the moon glows from within her skin. Her face fits perfectly in your hands when you hold it. Her lips are rosy, and her cheeks sometimes turn the color of a tomato if you say the right thing. She's not easy to ruffle these days, I think that comes mostly from having to grow up a little too soon after her mother died. However, when we were children she was quite easy to fluster," he grinned.

"So, she's a childhood friend of yours?" Jane asked.

"Yes, but we were out of touch for years. We only recently reconnected during the London social season," Christian explained.

"Is that when you fell in love with her?" Toulouse asked.

"I think a part of me has always admired her, but it didn't deepen until now. Prior to the season, the last time I had seen her, she seemed so small," he explained, brow furrowing. "Her mother had just started to become ill. Her mother would have headaches now and then, but they were starting to get more and more frequent and strong enough to keep her in bed. I suppose that was the beginning of the decline for her mother. She died a year and a half later."

A sad smile settled on his face as he remembered when she told him about it.

He'd been looking for her so that they could go on another adventure into the nature behind their estates, but she wasn't home. He checked around their usual hiding spots until he spotted her sitting on the bank of the river, holding her knees to her chest. As he got closer, he could hear her sniffling.

"Ellie?" he asked softly. "Are you alright?"

Estelle jumped and quickly rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine."

Christian frowned, settling down next to her. "You're crying."

"No, I'm not," she sniffed.

"Ellie, what's wrong? You know you can tell me anything," he said in concern, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's my mother," she sighed. "Her headaches are getting worse. The doctor doesn't know why she keeps getting them. Dad said she has good days and bad days, but she's not... she's not the same even on those good days."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"She's tired easily. She used to love music, but now she's irritable at loud noises," Ellie explained. She turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Christian, I'm scared. I don't know what's happening to my mother."

"I'm sure the doctor will be able to help her," Christian reassured her, but he knew that wasn't always the case. "I'm here for you, Ellie. No matter what. I promise."

Estelle nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You're a good friend, Christian."

"And her eyes?" Toulouse asked.

"Hmm?" Christian asked, coming out of it.

"You didn't describe her eyes," Toulouse repeated.

"Well her eyes are..." he trailed off. He tried to picture her, but for some reason he couldn't see her eye color in his mind's eye. "They're... they're either green or they're blue."

"You can't remember?"

"I think I've forgotten," Christian said softly. "But, they are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen. She's got a quiet strength in them. A resolve. I just hope that resolve never turns into resignation."

Toulouse smiled and moved his hands across the canvas.

"What was it like seeing her again?" Jane asked, noticing that Christian's demeanor had become solemn.

Christian perked up at the question. "It was... well... I had a few feelings in that moment. First of all, I saw her before she had first seen me," he chuckled. "I had introduced myself to this one woman who turned out to be Ellie's best friend. A dumb stroke of luck on my part. I only introduced myself to Ms. Renton because the bow on her dress had come untied and I didn't want her to trip. Then, we started talking, and I looked over her shoulder and saw my Ellie with the Queen. Part of me felt like returning home after being on a long trip away, wondering how things would have changed while I was gone. Another part of me was feeling a rush of nerves, because I wasn't sure that she'd recognize me, and if she didn't, then would she remember me? Then, the last part of me felt like I was being visited by some celestial creature. Watching her walk across the ballroom, I saw the spark in her eyes and I knew she remembered me."

"What was she wearing?" Toulouse asked.

"A green dress, embroidered with flowers. It was fitting, really," he said with an amused smirk.

"How so?" Jane asked curiously.

"You see, later that night we discussed how women were like flowers," Christian smiled dreamily at the memory. "She always did have a way with words and metaphors."

"Even more so than you?" Toulouse asked.

"We had the same tutor for a while growing up," Christian explained. "She always did get better marks than I did in English. She was especially fond of poetry."

"Have you ever written her a poem?"

"No. I haven't. I don't think I could capture all those feelings into one poem. It would take a novel to tell her how I felt," he sighed.

Toulouse finished what he was painting and leaned back. "Then, write her a novel, Christian."

"I've tried. I've gotten thoroughly stuck with the ending," he explained.

"Write the truth," Toulouse replied.

"That's the problem, I've run out of truth to write," Christian groaned.

"Then your story isn't over, either," Toulouse winked.

"She's in London," Christian sighed, "I'm here. That's as over as it could get."

Toulouse shook his head and got off his stool. He took his painting and turned it to show Christian. It was a portrait of Estelle based off the descriptions that Christian had been able to provide. "Physically, she may be in London, mon ami, but we both know the place she truly resides is right here," he said, tapping Christian's chest.

"Toulouse," Christian said softly, taking the painting from him. His eyes scanned over the picture. Toulouse had taken a gamble and painted blue eyes.

"Blue. They definitely are blue," Christian murmured, seeing her almost as if she were actually there. He turned to his friend and frowned, "I don't have anything to pay you with."

"Consider it a thank you for your friendship," Toulouse waved him off. "Most people would have fixed the hole by now. But, I appreciate you not forcing me to. It leaves more funds for art supplies."

Christian grinned and shook his head. "I'll go hang it up."

"Perhaps you should write home while you're at it?" Jane asked, getting up to leave. "I have to get back to the Moulin, but I'll see you two later."

Christian walked out with her and returned to his own apartment. Surveying the walls, he finally found a place to put it, sitting down on his couch to admire it. Perhaps Toulouse was right. Perhaps their story wasn't over yet. One could only hope. His gaze fell over to his typewriter and he sighed. Pulling out a piece of paper, he quickly typed up a letter to William. Then, he put it in an envelope and dropped it in the mail on his way to the Moulin Rouge for rehearsal.

As he walked into the space, Satine sidled up to him. "You seem different tonight."

"I've had a lot on my mind," he smiled.

"I see. Well, if you want, I can help clear your mind and make it go blank for a bit," she winked.

He blushed, coughing slightly to recover. "T-that's... I-I mean..."

"Alright, people, I want you all to get to work, this is my money you're wasting," The Duke huffed as he strode into the building, dropping his coat and hat into Christian's arms.

"My dear," the Duke smiled at Satine, offering her his arm.

Satine plastered her smile on and took it, but she turned to Christian and pointedly told him, "Think about it."

The Duke led her away and Christian let out a shaky breath. Rehearsal started and he went to work on the script. However, his mind went places, thinking about what Satine had said, but the Satine in his head quickly morphed into Estelle. He blushed even darker, a bit ashamed of thinking about her like that. Christian turned his attention back to rehearsal, forgetting about the script and getting lost in his previous words being spoken aloud. The first few scenes were good, and they were working on blocking it all in between dance numbers. Slowly though, people started to trickle away to get ready for that night's entertainment until it was only Christian left in the space. His mind replayed the penniless sitar player meeting the courtesan. He wondered what it might be like to meet Ellie again for the first time since becoming his own penniless self. Would she reject him like the courtesan does initially, or would she be happy to see him? All he knew was that should the world deign to put them together again, he would be over the moon.

#The Greatest Thing #Christian x OC #chapter 8 #Moulin Rouge #christian moulin rouge

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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years

Text

what are friends for?

this is for @not-just-fantasy who requested some marius getting beat up!!! i had a lot of fun writing this, especially developing the oc, which i’ve never really done before!! hope this is alright! (also sorry the con is like. barely described lol. its surprisingly hard to come up with a believable one)

It was a relatively simple con, as far as cons went. It involved posing as an accountant, and would result in a modest payoff, one which, hopefully, would fly under the radar until long after Marius had dropped off the grid. Well, Marius and his assistant.

He didn’t usually like to do serious jobs with people he didn’t know well, but he’d been training this person, whose name was Alia (though Marius’ ‘client’ knew them as Danny). Alia was a quick thinker, and a good deal taller and more muscular than Marius, which helped play them off as a bodyguard for a rather anxious accountant, who overvalued his safety (as well as his own importance).

And so far, things were going great. Alia and Marius were staying in a cheap hotel in Hartford, meeting daily with their client, William Henderson, a CEO who had recently become concerned about the security of his accounts. It had been three days, and in another two, the job would be finished, and the pair would walk away a couple thousand dollars richer. That was the nice thing about the rich, Marius thought. You could take enough money from them to comfortably sustain yourself, and they wouldn’t feel the difference.

Of course, they might notice the difference, and get angry about it anyway. So this operation had been a little more slow-going than one unfamiliar with the business might have expected, but overall it was progressing at exactly the pace that Marius knew it would.

Marius himself, currently in character as Oliver Pierce, accountant and possibly the most boring man on the planet, was in a meeting with his client. He had elected to have Alia stay in the car, as today’s business was to be the most delicate work, which could easily end the whole con if it was not handled correctly.

Alia had agreed to this, having never been in on any real sort of con before, and they were busying themself by sketching the alley the car was parked in on the back of a map they’d found in the glove compartment. Sure, it was boring being left in the car, but they were beginning to understand just how fiddly the con business could be, and were quite frankly relieved to have been excused from what was sure to be a high-pressure situation.

Back in the office, the situation was certainly high-pressure. But not in the way that Alia would have thought.

Marius was trapped. Literally and figuratively. The door was locked, his arm was pinned to the desk, and he’d been completely discovered-Henderson knew exactly what con he was trying to pull, he knew where Marius had been staying, he knew Alia was a con artist in training…the list went on. Marius was in deep shit, and for once, could think of nothing to say to keep the con going.

Henderson knew this, and was delighting in it. “You really thought you could pull one over on me? I thought something was up with you the minute I met you, and look at you now, proving me right with no help! You think you can install your creepy little...scanning device on my computer? You think you can mess with my computer without my knowledge? You think you’re smarter than me?”

“It’s not a scanning device,” Marius muttered under his breath, before he could think the better of it.

“What did you say?” Henderson demanded, twisting Marius’ arm.

“Nothing, nothing,” Marius said quickly. “Let’s just...let’s talk, right?”

But Henderson, apparently, had had enough. He slapped Marius across the face. “How about you shut the fuck up?”

Marius blinked. Fuck. He could get out of this...somehow.

“I can see those little wheels turning in your pathetic brain, Oliver,” Henderson sneered, his voice full of contempt. “You get out of this one when I say you get out.”

Marius didn’t want to think about what that could mean.

---

Alia, still sitting in the car, had finished sketching the alley, and had moved on to sketching the interior of the car. It was a very boring subject, as there was virtually nothing in the car to personalize it, but it was better than nothing. They wondered how Marius was getting on...he should be out soon, if everything was going to plan.

---

But of course, everything wasn’t going to plan. Henderson, after delivering his ominous statement, had said absolutely nothing as he slowly let go of Marius’ arm which had been pinned to the desk.

Marius, naturally, sprinted for the door, though he knew it was locked. He glanced around for anything that he could use as a weapon-he had the distinct feeling that he was about to get seriously beaten up, and Henderson already had several inches and a considerable amount of weight to his advantage.

But there was nothing. Henderson advanced on Marius, a truly dangerous smile on his face. Marius had backed himself up against the door, and looked frantically around, for what, he didn’t know-but it didn’t matter, anyway. The second Henderson’s fist collided with the side of his face, nothing mattered except survival.

Henderson hit hard, and accurately, the kind of punches which told Marius he’d been trained, probably in boxing, which was not an especially helpful fact.

An uppercut to the jaw sent him crumpling to the ground, his ears ringing. He tried in vain to stand up, to attempt to hold his own somehow, but Henderson kicked his legs out from under him.

He fell back to the floor, the back of his head connecting with a bookshelf with an audible crack. Stars swum in his field of vision, and he probably would have blacked out, had it not been for the sharp kick which was delivered to his stomach, which diverted his attention from the pain in his head and caused him to hunch over in an instinctive and futile attempt to protect himself.

Henderson grabbed Marius by the back of his suit jacket, hauling him to his feet, and pinned him to the bookcase with an arm against his throat. He punched Marius squarely in the nose, and it made a sickening crunching noise, and then Marius became dimly aware of the sensation of hot blood pouring down his face, making it hard to breathe, and his mouth was full of blood, and all he could register was pain, and he could barely breathe, and his head was spinning, and he was sure he was going to die…

And then the arm at his throat let up, and he slumped bonelessly to the ground. Falling hurt, but it hurt far less than everything else did, and he didn’t make a sound.

Henderson was saying something to him, something which he couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears. A smack to the face cleared that up well enough, though, and he could hear Henderson’s taunting voice asking if he’d had enough, if he’d learned his lesson.

Marius nodded, or did his best impression of it, anyway, which was perhaps not the best idea, as his dizziness increased tenfold. He stayed slumped on the ground for several minutes, doing his best to stop the world around him from spinning, and to gain enough control over his limbs to stand.

Henderson, however, had apparently grown bored of this whole exchange, and pulled Marius to his feet once again, holding him upright until he got his bearings. “Be thankful I really needed to punch my anger out, or you’d be on your way to prison right now,” Henderson hissed, as he moved to unlock the door. “Now get the fuck out of here before you bleed any more on my carpet.”

Marius did not need to be told twice, and he stumbled his way out of the office, a shaking hand attempting to stop the blood that still flowed down his face. God, he was still so dizzy…

Somehow, he made it back to the alley without collapsing. He stood a few feet away from the car, suddenly realizing that he really couldn’t make it another few feet.

---

Alia jerked out of a light doze to the sound of approaching footsteps, which abruptly stopped. Curious, they looked in the rearview mirror...and nearly screamed at the sight which greeted them. Marius, conman extraordinaire, was beat to shit. His clothes were rumpled and torn in places, and splattered with blood. One arm curled protectively around his torso. The other was attempting to stop a profusely-bleeding nose, which dripped blood down his already-bruising face.

They jumped out of the car, hurrying to Marius’ side. Just in time, too, for they had no sooner laid a hand on Marius’ shoulder to ask what the hell had happened than he was collapsing onto them, unconscious.

Alia, fortunately, had quick reflexes, and managed to catch Marius before he hit the ground. They picked him up as carefully as they could (he was so light), and set him down in the passenger seat, upright, so that his nosebleed wouldn’t choke him to death, then backed up out of the alley.

Alia was panicking, just a little. Their first con was not supposed to have gone like this. What were they supposed to do? They doubted that conmen went to the hospital, but they had serious doubts about their ability as a makeshift nurse. “Marius? Please, wake up, I don’t know what to do.”

He stirred slightly. “Hm?”

“What am I supposed to do?” they repeated, panic edging into their voice.

“No...nothing...go...hotel...con-” he paused, coughing harshly and wincing at the pain that that brought to...well, everything. “The con...it’s over...he found out…”

“Shit,” Alia said, having suspected as much but having hoped for some other outcome. “You really just want me to drive back to the hotel?”

“Yes. I’ll...I’ll be fine,” Marius insisted, and closed his eyes once more, blood still steadily dripping down his face.

Alia doubted this, but Marius was their...boss, or something like that, in all of this, so they listened, and drove as quickly as they could back to the hotel.

Once they arrived, the pair faced the task of making it back to the room unseen, which turned out to be fairly easy, as there was almost no one in the lobby to witness the spectacle of Marius, who had woken up enough to insist he could walk, being heavily supported by Alia, whose clothes were now smeared with blood and who was doing their best to remain inconspicuous. The one man who noticed them seemed content to pretend like he’d seen nothing at all, and went back to reading his magazine after sparing them little more than a once-over. The perks of cheap hotels, Alia thought to themself, as they waited for the elevator.

By the time the creaky elevator had reached the third floor, Marius had once again collapsed, and Alia had once again picked him up, flinging him carefully over their shoulder as they made their way down the hallway (which, fortunately, had a dark carpet that would hide the blood which dripped onto it). Finally, the pair made it back to their room, where Alia set Marius down on the edge of the tub and thought about how the hell they were going to do this.

Marius, fortunately, chose that moment to wake up, and muttered something about there being a first-aid kit in his suitcase.

It was there, and it was pretty well-stocked, too. Alia brought it into the bathroom, gathered all of the washcloths they could find, and got to work.

Fortunately, Marius’ nose had finally stopped bleeding, which was one less thing to worry about. He stared ahead at nothing, blinking sluggishly, as Alia gently wiped the blood off of his face. They had the feeling that this was normally something Marius would have loathed to have anyone do to him, for him, and they wondered briefly just how bad he must have felt in order to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being cared for.

Apart from the blood, Alia quickly realized that there wasn’t a whole lot else they could do for Marius. They removed his suit jacket and button-up shirt, both of which were fairly unsalvageable, and examined his torso, which was already horribly bruised. There wasn’t much they could do about the injury that would make it feel any better, apart from some ibuprofen (and even that might not do much, they really didn’t know), but they wrapped the bruise in some bandages anyway, to at least do something.

That done, Alia was well and truly out of things to do to help. They handed Marius two packets of ibuprofen, which he took quickly, and then stood up, fidgeting with a slightly bloody washcloth as they wondered what they were supposed to do next.

Marius interrupted their thinking. “You can...you can go, it’s over...won’t get any money…”

Alia looked at him, slightly bewildered. “You mean leave, right now? While you’re beat all to hell and might have a concussion or something?”

“You’re not listening, Alia, you won’t get anything, it’s finished.”

“I know I’m not getting anything,” they said, “but you’re...my friend, or something. I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Oh,” Marius said, evidently startled by their reply. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.

“No, you don’t,” Alia said, pulling Marius to his feet as gently as they could. “You have a perfectly good bed to sleep on.”

Marius made his way to his bed, painfully slowly, but mostly on his own. As soon as his head hit the pillow, his eyes fluttered closed, and Alia heard his breathing even out. Good, they thought, and then shit, there’s blood all over the bathroom that I’m gonna have to clean up.

---

Marius awoke with a pounding headache and a dull throbbing in his torso. He blinked his eyes open slowly, pushing himself into a sitting position and wincing as the movement made the throbbing in his torso spike into something more painful. He looked around. He was back in the hotel room...how had he gotten there? He mentally reviewed what had happened the past day: he’d woken up, had some breakfast, gone to the meeting with Henderson...after that, his memories became a jumbled blur of pain. Alia had been with him, he thought. No doubt they were long gone by now, now that their payoff had been ruined.

The lock on the door clicked, and Marius started. Before he could do something to fend off whatever intruder this was, the door opened, and Alia, their hands full with plates of hotel breakfast, stepped into the room, smiling at Marius when they saw that he was awake.

“Morning,” they said, handing him a plate. “How’s...everything?”

Marius looked at them, slightly shocked.

“What’s wrong?” Alia asked, already beginning to worry. “Oh, I knew I should have just gone to the hospital…”

“No!” Marius interrupted. “No...I’m fine, I’m just...why are you here?”

Alia looked at him, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“There isn’t any chance of a payoff anymore.”

Alia sighed, and said, “I know that,” in the exasperated tone of one who has already had this conversation before. “I don’t care.”

“Why?”

Alia shrugged, and sat down next to Marius on the bed. “I dunno. I like you? We’re friends, or something? I mean, I think two people can call themselves friends after one of them has collapsed on the other one multiple times.”

Had he done that? He supposed there was time to think about that later. “Yeah,” he agreed slowly. “I guess we’re friends.”

He was silent for a moment. Alia ate their breakfast. “Thanks,” he said finally.

“What are friends for?”

aaaaaaaaaAAAAAA i hope this was okay!!!! I had so so much fun writing it!! I tried to make it open to the possibility of anything happening after this, like romance etc, but i thought friends was a good endpoint for these two!! hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!!!!!

#my writing #i say things #sneaky pete #marius josipovic #beat up #collapse #bloody nose #blood #also fun fact when i started writing this i had no idea if alia was even a real name i just liked the sound lol #i hope u liked them!! i rlly loved writing them and developing their character #honestly before this i didnt really get the appeal of oc's but like...theyre so fun #i Get It now!!#also i am either trash at titles or somewhat okay and unfortunately lately its been the former #the other day i titled a fic as 'okay' not even realizing i had another titled 'be okay' im a mess lol #anyway yeah hope u liked!!!!!

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geewithluv · 4 years

Text

◁ comforting each other ▷

Ｐａｉｒｉｎｇ：Maknae Line X Fem!OC

Ｇｅｎｒｅ： angst and fluff

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ：crying, anxiety, mention of parental death (takes place in the past), hate comments, references the Jungkook tattoo and tattoo shop incident.

Ｒａｔｉｎｇ：PG

ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ：1.7

Ａ／Ｎ： «this belongs in my headcanon universe and you can read the other parts in the masterlist, the description of the characters is [here] so you get a summary of who they are. (hyung line version here) also Jimin’s is short compared to the other’s, sorry! »

ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ

ｊｉｍｉｎ

Everyone knew Jimin was head over heels in love with Harlow. It was pretty obvious and it was only a matter of time that it got a little too obvious and the public found out.

It was a no-brainer that Jimin and Harlow were going to be together for a very long time.

At least it seemed like a no-brainer. Harlow didn’t mean to overhear a conversation between a couple of the makeup artists and she definitely didn’t mean to freeze in her spot long enough to hear them say everything they thought about her and Jimin. And most of all, she didn’t mean to spend so much time in a bathroom crying that Jimin busted in looking for her.

So now, they were in the bathroom right after Jimin’s performance, holding each other as Harlow cried. She wasn’t quite ready to talk and Jimin, though understanding, was becoming a bit impatient due to his worry. “You’ve gotta tell me what happened so I can fix it, baby.” He tried to coax her into talking. One more loud sob made Jimin think it was a hopeless attempt but soon she started explaining.

“Some of the girls were talking.” She said. Jimin knew who she meant immediately, it wasn’t like there were many women on the staff and Harlow didn’t know many well enough to refer to them outside honorifics. “They were saying we shouldn’t be together.”

“Why would they say such a stupid thing!” Jimin’s eyes widened. He had known quite a few of the makeup and hair crew for a while and wouldn’t think they’d doubt his relationship like that.

“They said you don’t love me.” She muttered, trying not to start crying again.

“You know that’s not true right.” His body stiffened. Harlow doesn’t respond. “Look at me.” He demanded. Her gaze quickly found his. “I love you so much.” He said as seriously as he could without becoming angered. “Anyone who thinks otherwise isn’t worth the energy it takes to hear their opinion.” Harlow nodded, rubbing her nose. “Now, let’s go where those dumbasses aren’t anywhere in sight. We can order some food and cuddle, how does that sound?” He asked.

“Sounds great.” Harlow smiled. Jimin pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’ll take care of them later, alright? For now, just know that I love you more than anything, baby.”

ｔａｅｈｙｕｎｇ

Taehyung had wondered, on more than one occasion, if he could shut twitter down. Of course he knew it’d take a lot of planning and money. But he’d do it if he could. Maybe just the trending page. That’d be a good start.

Between the hate tweets from those who couldn’t name a BTS song, the hate tweets from those who liked the other 6 members better, and the hate tweets from those who only liked him and resorted to being hateful to his best friends, Taehyung felt so surrounded by negativity.

As much as he knew, and told himself, that he was just going through a rough time and was having difficulty seeing anything but the positive, that didn’t make it easier. He knew that his life was good. He was safe and secure, loved by so many, good friends and family. He knew all was well. Which is why he hid the feeling for so long. He didn’t want to seem selfish.

The boys noticed, of course they did, how could they not. It was only a matter of time before Bang PD noticed or was informed. They didn’t say anything, not yet at least. They hoped he was working on it. He knew he had a couple days to get it together before they confronted him.

He didn’t need it though, because Claire noticed and confronted him immediately. “Tell me what’s wrong.” She said as they ate dinner. Taehyung looked up at her a little confused.

“What?”

“Something’s wrong. Don’t pretend everything is fine when I can tell it’s not. I don’t want to argue about it, so just tell me so we can work through it.” She set her fork down. To most people she might have seemed a little harsh, maybe pushy. But Taehyung admired her blunt “straight-to-the-point” nature.

“Social media is kinda getting to me.” Taehyng ran his fingers through his growing hair, a little annoyed as the longer length had recently become a target for the hate. “It’s just a weird moment. Maybe the planets are doing that thing again. Retrograde?” He suggested an explanation.

“Have you talked to the guys? They’ve all gone through something similar, right?”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “I haven’t talked to them, yet.” He felt kinda bad saying it outloud.

“You don’t want to worry them, I know.” She explained. “But you need to tell someone. You can’t keep it all inside, insisting it’ll be okay and blow over eventually.”

“I know,” Taehyung grabbed Claire’s hand from across the dinner table, “I’ll talk to someone. I promise.”

“My dad never recovered. It’s been almost 20 years and he’s never gotten over it. My mother’s parent’s hardly talk to me because I remind them of her. Everyone tried to help her, but in the end no one else’s help mattered but her own.” Her eyes watered as she held his hand tighter. “I know you think I’m overreacting. That I’m taking it too far. But I’m worried about what happens if I don’t.” She kissed his knuckles softly. “Do what my mother didn’t do for herself, Tae. Before the storm gets too loud.”

It was as open as she had been regarding her mother’s death. And in a weird way, Taehyung found a sense of comfort in her tears. Her tears and worry for him reminded him of how much love people feel for him. “I’ll call Bang first thing in the morning.”

“You should call him now an--”

“Stay the night.” He interrupted. “Stay the night and make sure I do. I won’t even leave the bed before calling.” He compromised. Claire nodded. “I love you, I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He reached over to kiss her lips.

ｊｕｎｇｋｏｏｋ

Finally, Jungkook did something for himself. He had spent nearly a decade having to worry about every decision he made and how fans and press would react. Finally he did something for him. On the month long break he got tattoos. Something he wanted for so long, he finally did it. He was expecting some backlash from it. He knew some people would be upset but he wasn’t quite expecting some other headlines. First, were the CCTV photos and people thinking he was dating the woman next to him.

Jungkook was upset, upset that his privacy had been invaded, upset that his friend had been dragged into it, and upset that his actual girlfriend couldn’t say anything about it. He apologized profusely to both women, more to Emmie of course.

Second, a woman he thought he was friends with, a woman he let tattoo him, decided to take to social media. BigHit said to let them take care of it. Jungkook trusted them of course but there’s only so much you can do to silence someone. And unfortunately, this woman was out for him.

“Jungkook does have a girlfriend, but it’s not me :)” was a caption on an instagram post. Jungkook felt his world collapse when he read it. He hoped, for a moment, that people wouldn’t believe it. He hoped that he could continue living a life with Emmie separate from the fame. But all hopes were crushed when she posted a photo of Emmie and Jungkook together. No way to say it was photoshopped, some people recognized Emmie since she designed for them a couple times. This was all wrong, everything was going wrong. He was supposed to reveal it on his own terms, or never. Never seemed like a better option after the initial reaction from fans.

Emmie turned comments off as soon as she found out, she would’ve gone private had she not been a verified account. She told her assistant to hold any calls for the next 48 hours as she would be turning her phone off. Her assistant understood but not Emmie had to worry if she would still have a showcase in a week. She wondered if her business would go under. She worried if Jungkook would leave her.

They sat in silence at the Bangtan dorms. Too stunned to talk to each other or anyone else. The guys gave them some space. Only getting updated that the news was confirmed by BigHit and now they wait till it blows over.

Emmie cried first. Both tried so hard to hold it together for the other. But she broke first. Jungkook shortly after. As soon as he heard the sob he lunged to wrap his arms around her. “Why can’t we just be a normal couple.” She cried into his chest, marinating his breaking heart with her tears.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating. Holding her as if he was afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t.

“It’s not fair, Jungkook!” She yelled, not at him but the situation. She broke free from his grasp.

“Emmie, Emmie don’t--” He started worrying without her in his arms.

“Why won’t they let me love you! Let you love me! I’m just supposed to be the most hated woman in Korea, maybe even the world right now, cause I fell in love!”

“I’m sorry!” He yelled.

“Don’t you dare apologize!” She said, the guys debated on leaving their rooms to calm the situation. “It’s not your fault.” She softened. “You did nothing wrong.” She walked back over to him, taking his face in her hands. “You have done nothing wrong, Jungkook.”

“I’ll do anything to be with you, to keep you safe, to keep loving you. I’ll sue every single person who says something bad. I promise. I’ll make them open a whole department in BigHit dedicated to stopping the hate. I’ll do that. I need you.”

“We’ll figure it all out.” She told him, sniffling. “Right now, I just wanna be with you. In this way too silent apartment, holding you, pretending it’s not a warzone out there. That’s all I want right now.”

“I can do that. We can do that.” He said, and so they did. For two days they stayed in their happy place. Away from anyone with anything negative to say.

I know I said I’d finish soon, but a month slipped away from me because I moved, then moved back home because of some horrible stuff so I haven’t been writing or reblogging. I’ve been up-to-date thanks to twitter lol! Just not reblogging here. Hopefully I’ll be more available and stable (in terms of housing) to write lol. Thanks for reading, I don’t think Tumblr likes me anymore because I don’t show up in tags ;( if you see this give it a like! Or message me! I do take requests! This is getting long, sorry! Thanks again!

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bangtanhq #bts reaction #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #my writing

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