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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

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The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

#maneskin #maneskin imagine #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio fiction #ethan torchio x you #maneskin fiction #smut #my writings #ethan torchio

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chiwhorei · 3 years

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𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐚

✞𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧✞

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Dark Content, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3,175 [Link to Ao3]

Tags: Darkfic, sacrelige, coercion, corruption, dubcon and noncon elements, intonations and parallels to incest, but not actual incest (ie. ‘Father’ Shouta), choking, age-gap, oral, Priest!Aizawa, Virgin!Reader

From Chiwhorei: Aizawa is where this all started, so it’s fitting he is the subject of my anniversary fic. To everyone who’s followed me along this journey despite the long bouts of radio silence, to everyone that’s participated and supported this collab, to all of my lovely, devious friends— truly, completely, thank you for this past year. Xoxo.

The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.

** ** **

There’s not a soul awake this late.

The rosary wrapped between twitching fingers feels like a hot lashing against the skin. The glass and metal itch in your hold, the devotional was a gift for your confirmation-- it holds a decade of sins.

Your family has been asleep for hours now. Slipping through the back door as soon as you’re sure. Nineteen. A legal adult. Yet the only way to leave in the middle of the night is in secret. The cool, summer air hits your cheeks, it’s still for a moment. It’s so quiet, you feel like you’ve mistaken the real world for a snow globe. Static— in the moments after all of the glitter settles, all of the quiet, iridescent tears laying at your feet. It waits, patiently, until someone comes by to shake it again.

Moving into a cramped dorm room a few hours away, your childhood home feels bigger every visit. It’s bigger because nothing fills the space inside. There’s nothing but tense words and the clatter of silverware against dinner plates. Your father reminds you of an old briefcase— stern, rigid leather, unmistakably empty; your mother’s rose garden smells like poisoned wine.

Roses and leather, the combination suffocating enough to repel you in the hours you should be unconscious.

The walk from your parent’s house to the church is the most familiar thing in the world. Down to the cracks on the sidewalk and mossy steps leading up to a set of large, cherry doors. So routine it almost feels good for you.

There’s not a soul awake this late, you decide, that must be why you’re here.

That must be why he’s up too.

Pushing open one ornate door just enough to peek inside, you’re met with that distinct waft of incense and dusty missals. It smells like every Sunday morning and Easter Vigil, it smells like home.

Only votive candles light the space around you, flickering with intentions from fellow parishioners. You wonder if there’s one burning for you.

You know where to find Father Shouta, and suspect he’s waiting. He can trace every step from your parents home to the front gate. You open the confessional booth and crawl inside, the wooden space around you is cramped. It smells like incense masking cigarettes. Kneeling into the leather cushion, you face the screen partition.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was,” the memory has you falter, “three months ago.”

You remember the last hollow confession like it was yesterday. You were back in town for spring break. After mass that Sunday, your dad told Father Shouta how deplorable it was that your friends had tried, in vain, to drag you to the beach a few hours away from campus. “A week of drinking and sex, not for my daughter.”

Shouta met with you that evening and you cried your sins to him. How you had been dared to kiss boys at a party during midterms week, how you drank who-knows-what mixed with cheap beer at a frat house. He consoled you then, he told you that God will forgive all transgressions. “Even the sins of a whore.”

The memory makes you want to cry all over again. Yet, here you are— knees pressed to the very same leather, face against the same dusty screen.

He’s so still, so quiet, you jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, “What is it that you’d like to confess, my child?”

Your body aches, stiff and tense to the bone. You breathe in, shallow and suffocated, before you speak again.

“Father, forgive me I—” you can tell his posture is just as rigid, he’s only a shadowed outline and the slightest glimmer of color from his eyes. They warn you, but you ignore the familiar feeling on the back of your neck.

“I have been having impure thoughts. I’ve been thinking about a man,” one more deep breath in an attempt to keep your voice neutral, “a much older man.”

If you could hear a smile, Father’s creaks like floorboards.

His silence prompts you to continue, you knot your fingers together and hold them against your stomach, the Rosary tangled in between threatening to cut off circulation.

“The boys in my youth group, the ones in my classes— they’re all nice but,” you leave the second half of the sentence to rattle around in your mind, “but they aren’t you.”

“Impure thoughts are one thing, sinful, but,” his voice is indifferent, cold, “the true sins are ones of the flesh.”

“I- I haven’t,” you start to stutter, trying to defend yourself, “I haven’t done anything, Father.”

Despite himself, he laughs.

“It’s true Father,” you wonder why you hadn’t just stayed at home, “I’ve only ever kissed a boy— it wasn’t even a real kiss. I’m still a virgin.”

From the screen, you can only see him in fragments. Little cutouts of a dark figure and sickeningly bright red eyes. The color peaks through like pieces of a puzzle, chasing through the patterned wood before you can catch that he’s stepping out of his side of the confessional booth.

“It wasn’t a ‘real’ kiss,” each word is mimicked, emphasized by the tap of his shoes against the tiles below, “no, of course it wasn’t. Not with some boy.” Your legs are unsteady as you stand from the kneeler. There’s nowhere to hide, Father has you trapped in a toy box. Just for him to play with.

“Of course that wouldn’t have satisfied you.”

The door to your side of the booth creeks open just as your back hits the wall. You can see his face for the first time in months, you trace the features illuminated with candlelight. Father Shouta’s face is strong, even more sharp with his long, black hair tied back. His presence looms over where you’re sunken into the booth. Even standing and puffing out your chest, he’ll still be able to look down at you.

He bares his teeth. You know this by now, stupid little girl, you know he likes to play with his food.

Long fingers grip the small door frame and curl around the wood like an omen, his body slithers into your personal space until he’s only an inch away.

“Lust, greed, what is it that you want?” Each vowel cradles a hearty dose of poison, the consonants bite away and spit you out. Your skin feels raw under his attention, “You can’t atone for sins you’re not really sorry for.”

Those same fingers slide up either curve of your neck, he crawls from shoulder to jaw, slowly. So slowly it seems like he’s trying not to get caught. He holds steady against your skin, thumb rubbing lightly at your bottom lip. You must have just fallen asleep after your parents went to bed, that stale, poisoned house even lulling the restless. You must be dreaming right now.

“Don’t make me ask again.” His timber hits the three walls and brings you back to the present. There’s no rest for you, only a weak answer to his question. What is it that you want?

“I want to be a humble servant of our Lord.” Your voice shakes, battered against your throat on its way to meet the stiff air.

Father’s lips are on you, he traces the words of Luke over your trembling mouth, there’s only a breath of space between you,

“No one can serve two masters. For you will hate one and love the other; you will be devoted to one and despise the other,”

The hands holding your cheeks move down to circle your neck, each long finger lays a trap. He tightens around the skin, just enough to make you forget how it feels to breathe freely. He could do anything to you right now, and your cries for help would be swallowed by stained glass.

No one can serve two masters.

The scream caught in your throat meets his wicked smile, it fizzles into little more than a whimper. The small booth you’ve been trapped in is burning hot, you feel sweat beading on your forehead. The last ounce of courage, of restraint, tumbles out before you can catch it.

“Who do you serve, Father Shouta? God or the Devil?”

He answers you with a thick tongue finally pushing into your mouth. He smells like perfumed oils and votive candles, he tastes like sugar free gum and Seven Stars.

His grip around your neck is the only thing keeping you on your feet, you’re sure if he were to let go you’d melt into the floor below. Father’s lips against yours are a siren, dulling all other senses, rendering you malleable to his will. Whatever his will may be, whatever it is that he wants from you— you’d let him have it anyway.

He breaks away, the kiss that’s felt like hours disappears far too soon. Your body jolts forward of its own volition, trying to connect yourself to him again. You’re sure you look desperate, but you’re too intoxicated to care.

“I serve only myself.”

Father lets go of your neck and you’re allowed the first deep intake of breath you’ve had since walking into the church. You swallow hard, looking back up to him. He scares you, he always has, but that fear draws you towards him.

Does a moth know what the flame will do to it? Does the moth know their fate?

You feel like crying, really crying, but all that comes out are a few frustrated tears. Father leans over you once more, eyes trailing the tear waxing over your cheek, “You’re a wretched little girl.”

Is that why they fly towards fire, because they like the burn?

** ** **

You step forward in line, it’s almost your turn. Mother first, she’s always thought of Father Aizawa as such a “charming young man''. The notion always made you scoff, in reality he’s only a few years younger than your parents.

Your dad is behind you, he’ll give him a friendly handshake after the service and remark how beautiful the homily was. Today, he spoke of the devil tempting Jesus. You hung on every word.

Mother steps aside and makes the sign of the cross, you’re next. A sheep guided by the dutiful shepherd, a lamb onto his slaughter.

Your chin tilts upwards, eyes locked onto your part-time captor. He only has you for a few seconds this time, but his attention is a hallway— every door is a pitfall. Aizawa’s gaze turns red when he looks upon you again— a bright, bloody, captivating red. You’ve convinced yourself it’s a trick of the light. But you see them in the dark too.

“The Body of Christ,” his voice is a welcome mat in front of an asylum, holding out the wafer and obscuring one painfully beautiful eye.

“Amen.” You know you’re part, but you can’t hear your own voice.

Father watches as your eyes close and your mouth opens, a quiet obedience, nothing at all out of the ordinary. Your fingers tingle with how tight you’re holding them together.

He places the Body to your awaiting tongue. It tastes like a harsh nothing that will stick to the back of your throat for the rest of mass. You take Christ in pieces, letting it start to melt into the roof of your mouth.

Shouta brushes your bottom lip before retracting. It’s subtle, an accident— the smallest touch of chilling skin. No one notices, the earth doesn’t stop on its axis for anyone else. You step aside and follow your Mother back to the wooden pews like nothing out of the ordinary stirs in your heart.

You feel Father’s eyes on the back of your skirt. They feel red.

“Your sweet girl here has offered a helping hand getting prepared for a youth retreat the church is hosting next week.” After mass, the stop to shake Father’s hand is inevitable, a pleasantry every parishioner makes time for before shuffling out for Sunday brunch.

He speaks over your quiet, “Good morning, Father Shouta,” right as your family turns to leave, almost as if he had been mulling over whether or not it was worth a mention. He regards them with a veiled casualty, never once looking at you.

Father’s face is kind when he wants it to be, laying a hand in the middle of your shoulder blades, it's a feeling of comfort you can’t help but lean into, “We’re discussing how to remain chaste in a sinful world.”

The word ‘chaste’ is pinched into your spine and despite yourself, you smile. A heavy heart has found home at the bottom of your stomach, but you can’t let on to the sick churning in your gut. Your parents gleam with pride for their daughter. A perfect example of a good Catholic girl.

“I’ll have her meet at my office this evening, is six okay?” His question sounds like your dowry, talking past you and asking for your parents permission.

Your dad shakes Father Shout’s hand once more, delighted at how his diligent parenting must be the reason you’ve found yourself in holy favor. Said ‘parenting’ is definitely to blame, but not in the way your dad assumes.

*** *** ***

The walk through church and into the sacristy is like a meditation in fear, every step begging you to turn back, to run home like a scared child. You tread steady, feet searing on hot coals until you’re met with the sound of Father Shouta just beyond the threshold.

“You’re late.” Something sinister fills Father’s quarters as soon as you open the door. It’s scary how offhandedly he can lie. You’re at least ten minutes early, the evening toll of church bells will signal the hour. He wants to see if you’ll stutter, if you’ll argue. You stay quiet, busying your hands with the hem of your skirt, fingers lifting it slightly before you remember who owns the eyes sitting across the room. They look golden from here, a honey you could drown in. You cough at the feeling of sugar in your lungs before collecting yourself and awaiting instruction.

Seemingly pleased with your docility, he smiles wide and crooked. It’s bound into a book he will whisper into you page by page. It’s written in a language only he knows.

Shouta motions you farther inside, leaning back in his seat. He corrects you when you move to sit in the chair on the other side of his desk, waiting with little patience as you settle against his side instead. Your posture is stiff being this close, being this alone.

His facial hair is trimmed neatly, small scars litter his face, the most pronounced a jagged trail under his right eye. From the dim evening light, you see a shadow of loose hairs make a pointed crown around his head.

“St. Teresa of Avila,” Father starts, tapping his fingers against a small stack of papers, “what do you know of her?”

You’re disarmed, the question seems so innocent-- not a note of ulterior motive detectible. Even so, your guard remains high. His intentions need no subtext.

“St. Teresa of Avila, the patron saint of headache sufferers,” you’re struggling to see the point, but Father prompts you to continue, “she was a Spanish nun, she wrote about a prayerful life,”

After another moment of measured silence, you grow even more tense, “Father Shouta, forgive me, I don’t understand,”

You’re hushed with a laugh, the small collection of papers placed in your hands. The first leaf is titled with large letters, “The Life of Teresa of Jesus.”

“I’d like you to read the section I’ve highlighted.”

You shake, thumbing through until you find a block of text traced in bright yellow. You scan its contents, but are quickly interrupted by Shouta’s next request.

“Out loud.”

There’s no escaping the toy box.

His stare is unwavering, giving you no room for objection. They’re not soft like honey anymore, Father Shouta’s eye’s are harsh, bloody gemstones.

You know better than to keep him waiting, adjusting in your half sat position on the side of his desk, you begin reading with hoarse inflection, “In his hands I saw a long golden spear, and at the end of the iron tip I seemed to see a point of fire. With this he seemed to pierce my heart several times so that it penetrated to my entrails.”

Wincing, the words sound like a stranger in your ears. After every sentence, Shouta’s fingertips inch closer to the end of your skirt, right above the knee. You’d be stoned for this kind of hemline at home, but with Father it seems to be exactly the sacred skin he wanted to see.

His hands move, unwavering, as you continue with the annotated paragraph, “When he drew it out, I thought he was drawing them out with it and he left me completely afire with a great love of God.” Fingers stop their gentle assault before adding pressure to your inner thigh, he peels apart your legs with a wordless prompting to keep going.

“The pain was so sharp that it made me utter several moans; and so excessive was the sweetness caused me by this intense pain that one can never wish to lose it, nor will one’s soul be content with anything less than God.”

By the last several words, Father Shouta’s lips are centered in between your open thighs, you feel tears frozen in the duct. You want to pull away, to escape, but his lips hold something you’ve never been this close to.

“Piety is a virtue,” you can feel the hot breath against your most intimate planes of flesh, “but our God is one of pleasure too.”

His kiss feels like branding. An aimless, confused lamb seared with the mark of its owner.

You cry out, loud and broken, when his mouth meets the cotton covering your pussy. Shouta uses his pointer and middle finger to move the fabric away.

No one has ever seen these parts of you, kept locked away for your future husband until now, sitting in the heart of your family's church, writhing from even the slightest touch.Hips buck of their own accord, and you’re granted one last open-mouthed lave against your twitching cunt. His tongue peaks out slightly to catch your clit before pulling away.

You move as if possessed, falling to your knees in front of your Father. Your mouth opens, that same quiet obedience, and his finger brushes your lower lip again. “No one” you think, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of fingers wrapped into the back of your hair, “no one can serve two masters.”

“Body and soul, you’re mine.”

But there’s not a soul left in sight.

✞ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞: All writing is chiwhorei’s original content, please do not repost or modify. Do no read my content as asmr. Do not recommend me on TikTok.©️

#aizawa smut #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa x reader smut #bnha smut #bnha x reader smut #heavenly bodies collab #chiwhorei.bnha #chiwhorei.fics #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: coercion #tw: sacrilegious #tw: corruption #tw: age gap #tw: darkfic

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333sth · 3 years

Text

dove. (frankie morales)

chapter ii. previous. series masterlist.

pairing: frankie morales x ofc (’dove’) no use of y/n

warnings: ptsd/military service, violence, injury detail, language, angsty.

summary: santi’s hunch is no longer a hunch, but only will knows how close they are to finding frankie’s girl.

rating: mature wc: 1.8k

When a strong hand had clamped around her shoulder, Dove’s instinct was to break it. It wasn’t menacing; they were just waiting at the bar to be served.

A burly, middle-aged man was towering beside her, clutching a beer bottle that looked miniature in his thick grasp. His arms, still holding the shadow of what was once impressive muscle, were littered with military tattoos. Dove could spot a stick-and-poke from a mile off.

“I recognise that,” He gestures to her neck, where a small Delta Force tattoo was usually disguised by her long hair. “You ex-forces? Delta?”

She wanted to kick herself. The sticky atmosphere had gotten the better of her and she’d thrown her hair into a ponytail without thinking.

“Yeah, but that isn’t exactly public knowledge ‘round here.” She murmurs.

Across the room, Roni throws her head back in exaggerated laughter. A group of men, who looked barely out of their teen years, had come over to make some desperate attempts at getting laid. Dove had excused herself to buy the next round after one of them had cracked a mortifying joke about liking older women.

“That’s understandable.” The man held out his hand, which she took hesitantly. “My name’s Mark, I just retired out here. Served for twenty three years.” He chuckled gruffly, his voice thick from cigarettes. “I got jack shit to show for it, mind you.”

“Tell me about it.” She laughs, but she doesn’t offer her name.

Mark notices as the conversation lulls. “I trained with a guy who made Delta. Santiago Garcia - we called him Pope, ‘cause he just had that way about him. You probably knew him.”

Dove swallows, chest lurching. “Sounds familiar… You know how it is though, the nicknames all blur into one eventually.”

That’s a lie, you never forget your teammates’ names. Mark knows it and so does Dove. Thankfully, he doesn’t push a conversation she clearly doesn’t want to have, and raises his bottle to her.

“Well, it was nice to meet you anyway. Enjoy yourself out here.”

“You too, Mark.” She tries to smile, but her lips press into a thin line that probably looks more like a grimace.

Mark had called Santiago the following day, the alcohol-blurred memory peaking his interest once he remembered his old friend’s plea a few months back. He’d asked around for any heads-up if any ex-Delta women around their age popped up. Mark had thought the man was delusional when he’d heard. If she was Delta Force, she wouldn’t be found unless she wanted to be.

Apparently, he was wrong. Maybe even the best of the best got rusty after a while.

The town Dove had been spotted in was questionable to Santiago. It was too cosmopolitan for a woman who was starting over. However, after a onceover on a map of Mexico, Santi spotted its smaller neighbour. He’d never heard of it, which meant it must be the place. Small population, right on the coast, with enough amenities and business to get by without any trouble.

“And, man, she had a wicked scar on her throat. Sort of shit you’d only see on a Delta.” Mark had added, with a chuckle. “I can’t imagine that ain’t your girl.”

‘Dove isn’t my girl,’ Santi wanted to bite back instinctually. He bit his tongue, and instead offered, “It sounds like her. I can’t thank you enough, brother.”

Santiago only told Will what he knew about Dove. He had the mind to retain that information no matter what this trip threw at them. Plus, he trusted him with his life, plus a couple other lives that came to mind. Call it insurance, if things went south.

Plus, Will didn’t have Tom’s mouth, or twisted morality. Tom was more than willing to accept that Dove would miss out on their prospective fortune, that the ‘hunch’ would have to wait until Lorea was dealt with. Santiago knew his brothers well enough to know Benny would throw a hissy fit if they knew where Dove was and she wasn’t included. She’d spent enough time stitching up their war-torn skin and shoving them out of bullets to deserve a cut.

So, Pope told a little white lie. They had a stop in Mexico to meet with a contact.

Frankie had murmured, “Better be worth it, stuck in this shitty car with you fuckers for ten hours.”

Santiago resisted the urge to agree. God, he hoped it would be worth it too. He hoped he wasn’t driving them into a dead end, a bluff on Mark’s part. Or even worse, invading Dove’s beautiful new life without them. That would destroy everything; Dove, the boys, Frankie. What if she had settled down? What if he pulled into that idyllic beach bar she wanted and she’s there, a baby with the same brilliant eyes balanced on her hip? She was never sure about kids. A vivid mental picture of the wrong diamond, glistening on her ring finger in the afternoon sun, and the wrong man pecking her lips, made Santi physically wince.

Fish would never forgive him. Will and Benny would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself.

It was a long, apprehensive drive. Santi’s eyes were drying, squinting against the headlights that occasionally glared past them. His jaw had been clenched for the last few hours as his anxiety grew, nothing but open road to stare at while he contemplated over and over as to whether it was the right decision. It didn’t help that Frankie never really slept like the others did on the move. While the other boys passed out, Frankie’s soft eyes continued scanning the scene flying past the window. It was like he stayed awake to watch Pope’s back, as if they were still in combat, or as an unspoken act of kindness to keep him company.

Really, Frankie was a terrible sleeper. Santi remembered that from the early days, before he and Dove gave it up and became an item. He was the last to drift off and first to wake up, always restless. Once Dove started tip-toeing over to his cot in the night, he became the worst snorer in the division. Always splayed on his front, one arm tossed over Dove’s waist and the other under his pillow. She’d kick him in the night so he’d roll over and shut up, but it never lasted long.

One night, Benny had enough, and groaned to Dove, “Put us out of our fuckin’ misery and smother him with your pillow, for the love of God.”

Dove had snapped back, “Fuck off, Benny, just ‘cause you aren’t getting any of the action doesn’t mean you have to get all bitter.”

“I’ve told you guys - I’m more than willing to join in-”

“Ben.” Frankie grumbled into her shoulder. It was gruff with sleep but still menacing enough to make the hairs on Dove’s arms stand on end.

Before a pillow smacked into his head, Benny guffawed, “Oh, so he is alive after all.”

Wringing a soft rag for polishing glasses between her fingertips, Dove descends the wooden steps at the entrance of the bar. The last huddle of regulars holler behind her, wrapping up their weekend drinks as the evening creeps closer to the early hours; Dove always notices the time when moths start colliding with the lanterns.

Roni rises from a crouch on the ground, dropping a paintbrush into a can with a clatter. “See, your own little touch!”

The wooden panels that constructed the side of the bar, usually concealed by a stack of cardboard beer boxes, is decorated with little doves. Despite studying criminology, mainly for the satisfaction of her parents, Roni loved painting and insisted on brightening the exterior of their beach shack.

Dove cracks a half-smile. “It’s lovely, Ron. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” She beams, throwing the half-empty cans into the nearby bins. She pauses, glancing hesitantly at the older woman over her shoulder, “Dove’s not your real name, right?”

“No, no. Nickname from when I was nursing overseas.” Dove chuckles, before adding, “Feels more like my real name than my Christian one nowadays.”

Roni passes Dove on the steps as she returns to the bar, “It suits you. You’re always graceful, but… you’re fucking fast.”

Dove laughs with her, ignoring the familiar clench in her chest. It’s exactly what Frankie used to say. The difference is Roni notices when she almost drops a glass, or her tray of drinks starts to wobble, and Dove is there to catch it with such fluidity Roni never saw her coming. Even the way Dove’s knife slices through fruit like each piece is a slab of melted butter. Frankie witnessed the extreme of that, the stealth and grace that usually ensured the enemy was dead before the others had even thought to raise their guns. Still, he admired her the same way Roni was right now. It was like awe.

It’s probably because he loved her effortlessly, every single aspect of her being without a glimmer of doubt or judgement. And now he wasn’t here.

The group of regulars stumbling down the steps break Dove from her thoughts, chortling and wishing her goodnight. One of the older men turns and jerks his thumb towards the road, “You might wanna tell them you’re closing, bonita.”

Before the road becomes the sand, there is a small, dusty wasteland that doubles as a makeshift car park. A vehicle is parked, glaring headlights facing towards the ocean and forming peculiar, alien-like beams in the dark. She’s definitely getting rusty; she’d barely registered the idling truck.

“I’ll sort ‘em out, Miguel, don’t you worry.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” He jokes, waving to her. “Buenos noches, Dove.”

Military habits are practically impossible to shake, and immediately, Dove’s mind launches into overdrive. She raises her hand above her eyes, squinting against the blinding white LEDs in an attempt to make out a registration plate or even a recognisable model. Her mind is fine-tuned to memorise; most of the locals’ cars are already catalogued in her memory, but this isn’t one of them.

Maybe they’re tourists, ready to push their luck with the opening times. That’s the reasonable side of Dove’s mind. The irrational, dark edges whisper, ‘What if someone found you?’ By someone, it means someone bad. Someone she wronged during her service, an enemy or straggler that got away. Even a civilian that might have been caught in the crossfire. She thought about those ghosts often. Hell, some of them she could still name. When she can’t sleep, sometimes she lists them, pictures their faces if she can recall them, just in case they ever came back.

She inhales a sharp gust of ocean air through her nostrils, welcoming the clarity that spreads through her mind. Parting her lips (the lips Frankie always teased were in a permanent pout), she released the breath slowly, trying to relax the stressed scrunch in her features.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that someday.”

The voice is familiar. A deep, breathy chuckle, barrel-toned and gravelly. It sounds like home.

taglist: @mishasminion360

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie x reader #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fic #frankie morales x ofc #dove #Santiago Garcia #Benny Miller #Will Miller #pedro pascal #frankie morales imagine #frankie morales fic #francisco morales #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 4

Marinette has a nice peaceful night, besides from having to outrun Batman, but come on thats just normal field trip stuff, and after that absolutely nothing remarkable happens.

First< Previous >Next

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“It wasn't just me right?” Marinette asks her Kwamis, “Aunt Selina was acting really strange,”

“She dragged you through secret tunnels in one of the most prevalent companies in the world,” Kaalki deadpans, as she hangs something up in the wardrobe, “Everything was strange,”

“Yeah, I’m not really one to judge,” Marinette says, to the god that can fit in her pocket, “Done,”

She straightens out the portable house she had made for Tikki and Kaalki. It was made out of fabric with just a few pieces of cardboard for better support. It had bedrooms, living rooms, even a little kitchen. It was quite like the ‘doll house’ she has for them back home. She had made a replica of that one for Tikki to bring into the miracle box as a gift for the other Kwamis.

“Oh the others would love this!” Tikki squeaks, flying around inside, Marinette can see her through the little cut out windows.

“Well I can’t hold all of you,” Marinette laughs, falling back on her bed, “I guess I should get some sleep,”

“You aren’t going out for patrol?”

“I thought that was a one time thing?”

“But you had so much fun,” Tikki looks at her with thos big round eyes, “You should go again Marinette,”

“You know Tikki I was actually about to make a responsible decision and go to bed early,” Marinette sighs, getting back up, “But you ruined it,”

“It’s midnight and we both know that you would just keep designing dresses,” Kaalki pushes away one of the many wads of paper littering her bed and room.

“Touche,” Marinette pulls over her mask, “What about the miracle box?”

“It’s your choice Marinette,” Tikki assures, her smile telling Marinette there would be no hard feelings either way.

“Well it was safe last night, Hawk Moth isn't around to try and steal it,” She puts on her cape, “And it would be pretty bad if it got damaged during a fight,”

“So you’ve made your choice?”

“Yeah,”

Starling finishes zip tying the crooks hands when she feels eyes fall to her. She doesn't directly look around, instead stretching and yawning to survey her surroundings. Above. A flash of color, yellow, Robin.

Instead of going back up to the roof as planned she turns and walks out the alley into the street. The victim of the mugging is there waiting and she smiles brightly, letting them relax. When the police arrive she slips away, having no illusions of Robin, or whoever else is watching, actually losing sight of her.

Obviously they wanted her alone for whatever reason. That just means she has to stick to populated areas. Luckily she is in a seedier part of town but not enough that people are too cautious of roaming the streets. There's a few drunk people around, she’d have to find denser crowds if she wants to give them the slip.

She sees an older woman struggling with her bags, full of fresh produce.

“Hello,” She steps out of the shadows, “Would you-whoa!”

She backs up from the gun that is pointed right at her head.

“Tell your boss to fuck off,” The woman scowls

“Sorry, but I don’t have a boss, Milady,” She smiles kindly, “But I can leave if you want, just thought I’d offer to help with the bags,”

“You a bat?” She raises and eyebrow looking over Starling.

“No Milady,” She can dodge a bullet right?

“Good guy?” The gun inches closer.

“Good enough to not get shot, I hope,” Starling smiles a crooked grin.

“Eh, you would have tried to disarm me if you were a threat,” She puts the gun into her cardigan pocket decorated with embroidered cats.

“Try?” Starling picks up the dropped bags.

“And fail,” She nods, taking the bags from her.

“I’m starting to think I need your help more than you need mine,” Starling chuckles, rubbing her neck.

“Well you can still carry all of this,” She passes the bags back.

“Is there a market at this hour or something?” Starling asks, following after her leaving enough distance.

“Well you see dear late at night is actually when it’s safest,”

“Oh I see,” Starling nods along, scanning the rooftops, “Bats,”

“And you can sell nasty looking fruit in bad lighting,” The older woman cracks a grin, Starling mirroring her.

“I guess that's true,”

“Plus also works as a front for drugs,” Starling chokes out a laugh.

“And you would know,”

“Of course, your now an accessory to crime my dear,” There's a sparkle in her eye and Starling can’t help but laugh.

“I never seem to be able to stay out of trouble,” Starling sighs dramatically, sagging to the side.

“That's because you wander Gotham's streets in a costume my dear,” She says kindly, then turns a shrewd eye to her, “Just who are you?”

“Starling, nice to meet your acquaintance,” Starling bows, easily managing even with the bags.

“You’re not from around here are you dear?” The lady raises her brow.

“Am I that obvious,” Starling chuckles, a skip in her step.

“Cheerfulness is a dead give away,” Starling nods along to the advice? “You’re either from out of town or crazy,”

“I’ll pick out of town then,” Starling tilts her head to the side, “Tho I can’t guarantee the second one,”

“Batman is not hospitable to rouges my dear,” She ignores Starlings hopefully-a-joke.

“No kidding,” Starling mutters, glancing back up to the rooftops, she was definitely still being watched.

“... Well if you wanted to help more old ladies with their groceries tonight just head back the way we came go straight and take the first right,” She stops in front of a door holding her hand out to take the bags back.

“Thank you,” Starling smiles, giving another bow, “I think I will,”

“Stay out of trouble my dear,” The woman calls as Starling heads down the street.

“Sorry!” Starling calls over her shoulder, “I’m a really bad listener! Have a good night!”

She sees the older lady shake her head before disappearing into the building. Taking her advice Starling walks towards the markets. Those watching don’t approach her on the way to the market. Either they don’t know she’s aware of them or are confident enough that they can keep track of her. She’ll have to check for bugs regardless.

She reaches the market, weaving in between people. She waits for the perfect moment where she's sure she’ll be in a blind spot. The people milling around watch her curiously and cautiously, a high chance she's a villain a higher chance she's a vigilante. This unfortunately means people give her some personal space, not ideal for hiding.

It’s when a group of tall built men walk past her she sees her opportunity. She darts behind them, none backing off from her, a brief glance or two then just ignore her, part of some gang or rather. In a fluid motion Marinette pulls off her cape and scarf with one hand, flipping the skirt inside out to hide the distinct patterning. With her other hand she brings her bun down into a ponytail, being able to just pull it out.

She must of lost them for a second so she quickly but discreetly leaves the spot, not letting them connect her build to Starling. Now that she's out of costume she is able to hide in crowds. She dips behind some people pulling on her skirt quickly and zipping it up, she then unzips the hood to make it look like a pattern against her skirt. With the scarf in place around her neck turned to the pink side and a pair of glasses, she is sure she looks to the world like a different person.

The next hurtle are the bugs. They probably can’t track her in the market if she stays close to others. There's one on her skirt, shoe, elbow, and belt. She drops them off in any crates that are full of white powder that is certainly not flower. Might as well send them after something useful.

When she’s sure that she’s untraceable she heads back to the hotel a spring in her step. She does indeed run into someone on her way home that needs help with some groceries. If Marinette does indeed notice something suspicious in their bag no one needs to see her slip in the number of some people that can help out.

“Tikki! That was so great!” “My costume worked perfectly! They didn’t even see it coming!”

“Great job Marinette!” Tikki cheers, flying out of her pockets as they enter her room.

“I wonder what they wanted,” Kaalki asks, as she settles on the bed.

“They were probably going to be like,” Marinette brings her fingers up to make 'bat ears', “Get out of the city Starling' or 'don't stand on that gargoyle its my brooding gargoyle,”

“Probably shouldn’t have wrote ‘Starling was here’ on it,” Tikki sighs, more of a piece of advice than a lecture.

“Well I wanted to write ‘dibs’ on it, sooo,” Marinette falls back on her bed, lowering her voice so Adrien sleeping next door wont wake up.

“At least you’re having fun,” Tikki giggles.

“I did, but I need a sleep in,” Marinette snuggles further into the bed.

Tikki flys off over the edge of the bed. Probably to get her little sleeping bag or something.

“Marinette!”

"What?!" She darts to Tikki's side, to see an empty backpack. An empty backpack where the Miracle box should be.

“Where's the Miracle box!”

Fuck

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Taglist

@smolplantmum @flufflepuffle296 @dawnwave16 @caffeinetheory @g-arya @Maribat-2k20 @ladybug-182 @Actual-disaster-human @fusser90 @messrs-weasley @soap-lady @paintedhope7 @zeneralla @mochegato @random-nerd-3 @clumsy-owl-4178 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @too0bsessedformyowngood @certifiedbidisaster @Purplegeekypanda @awkward0ghostfan @theymakeupfairies @tikki-marinette @insane-fangirl-of-everything @elmokingkong @inarachi02 @slytherinhquinn @moongoddesskiana @dast218 @buginetye @redscarlet95 @biodad-bruce-month @hansa-12 @waiting247 @toodaloo-kangaroo @how-to-fuction-properly

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the-huntress · 3 years

Text

Little Moth - Chapter 2 - A Friend

[Thank you to everyone that has read my story so far. I really hope that you enjoy it. My apologies for the slow burn, but all good things come to those that wait… <3]

Masterlist

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg. [18+]

Summary: Awoken by the clang of metal another strange dream haunts you as you make your journey towards the ominous ‘village’, searching for your life-long friend, Leon.

Trigger Warnings: Supernatural violence.

Song Suggestion: ‘Keep Me Alive’ by All We Are.

[Photos are my own] The next 24 hours were a blur; bagel, taxi, airport, flight, layover in airport, Frankfurter infused pretzel, flight to worryingly small airport, ride in the back of a 1980s Toyota pick-up truck (with cages full of chickens and feathers flying about), which took you to the smallest train station you’d ever seen (one platform), two steam trains later, a weakened moment of purchasing unidentified brand of cigarettes with picture of a goat on the front from a man that smells profusely like garlic, and then a moment of mildly suppressed panic at being in a completely unknown to you part of the world with not a word of Romanian to your repertoire.

Standing at what kind of looked like maybe the side of a road-ish, you pulled out the badly printed map, co-ordinates and a compass. You looked up at the sky, despite it being overcast the clouds were still thin enough to be able to see roughly where the sun was sat. It was 2pm, your phone no longer had a hope in hell of working out here signal wise, but at least for now, it could tell you the time, after that it would just be you and the sun.

You couldn’t deny as the treck took you further away from the already very small towns and villages, and further into the countryside and wilderness, that the landscape was incredibly beautiful. Snow-capped mountains, like you’d never seen anywhere but the movies graced the horizon, leafless tree branches began to out-number their more lustrous looking sisters, and yet, dotted amongst the white, a spattering of green, forests and woodlands a-like, untouched by the torrents of snow, as if by some magic. The fresh air in your lungs made you feel powerful somehow, like you were on a path leading to destiny, something inside you was being fulfilled. Even during the time sat alone on the steam train, staring at the hillsides and woodlands as they flew past, catching your own reflection in the glass here and there, you’d felt as if you were heading towards something exciting yet familiar.

The day seemed to go much faster than you’d imagined, but then it was late into the year, the days much shorter. Grateful for the fact that you’d chosen to wear a zip up hoodie under your usual work jacket, you still had to give the tops of your arms a rub with your gloved hands. You’d also prepared with thin leggings under your black combat trousers and worn hiking socks under your military boots. There was still more than enough light to see, but the Village was still not yet in sight. The hike had been challenging, your knee was now starting to protest, both with an ache and with a sharpness too it. Just a little further, you thought, wincing against it.

You stopped dead in your tracks. There was a noise nearby but not anything that you were used to. What was that? A train? There were no train tracks running through this part of the wilderness as far as you knew, you’d hoped not at least, else you’d be kicking yourself in the ass if you could have saved yourself from the pain that you were in after all this time. A rumbling, chundering, rickety sound, drawing closer and closer. A light in the distance, a lantern, two of them, swinging wildly now on the front of a carriage and a man’s face, crazed with panic, and what a man, at least two times the size in both height and girth of anyone that you’d ever met before.

“Run my darling adventurer, run, for it is not safe for you here!” He yelled towards you. But you couldn’t, you were frozen solid, seeing now what he was trying to escape; and you’d thought this man was larger than life. What approached behind him… was unearthly. The wind was thrown out of you as you were yanked by the collar and swung onto the back of the carriage. The man had tossed you up to at least temporary safety, although how stable this thing was you did not know. You stared back towards the rear of the carriage, eyes narrowing on what you now identified as your target. In short, you could see some kind of humanoid being, roughly 8 foot tall, muscles rippling, pale, sallow skin, with patches of thick hair covering various parts of its body, a loin cloth, beady, mean cold gold eyes, pointed ears and a mouth full of needle sharp teeth. Hurtling along in front of it, in its grasp were two humungous beasts, covered in shaggy hair, almost like two huge dogs or bears, but with some of the most nightmarish faces that you’d ever seen. All you could see was that fact that they wanted nothing more than to tear you limb from limb.

You didn’t mess around for shit and your pistol was in your hand before you could say ‘boulder punching bastard’. You fired one, two, three times, each shot tearing through the shoulders of the front two beasts.

“You really think that thing is going to take them down?” Yelled the driver, craning his head around to take a quick glance at you. You grimaced, thrown down to the roof by a sudden jolt, and quickly tore your glance back at your enemies. They were closing the gap.

“Make a quick turn, here, around that rock!” You yelled, pointing ahead. The man began his manoeuvre as you’d instructed, and without question, for which you were grateful, you only had a couple of seconds to act and one shot at this. You pulled the aerosol from your pocket. This wasn’t just any can, this was something that you’d created yourself. Looked like a normal deodorant or spray can for sure except for two minor differences; it was re-fillable, and it had a range of up to 15 feet. You swiped the lighter back from your cap and took aim, lighter in your left hand in front, aerosol in your right hand, the U-turn took your right back past the trio as they came tearing down the slope. The noise wasn’t quite deafening, but it was loud enough, and you’d succeeded. The two hairy beasts were covered in flames and yelping, running frantically and tore off into the forest. HAHA! You laughed, another bump and you were back on the roof, stealing a glance at the man steering who had a grin on his face too. “Trick shot!” You called back.

The wolven giant roared in fury, for he was scorched, but his rage burned savagely more so than any flame that you could create.

“Very good little moth, but we need something bigger for that one. In the carriage, the room below you there is something that will help, you will know it when you see it, retrieve it now.” You nodded, not noticing for a moment what he’d called you, but you didn’t have time to think and ask. You slid down through the small hatch in the roof, just wide enough for your body, some kind of sky light you guessed and fell to the floor. The dwindling sun light now blazing red over the horizon and through the silhouettes of the trees lit the inner carriage just enough for you to take in what was around you; a lot of meat for one thing. You were never any good at hiding your thoughts on your face, but no one was here to see that right now. There were a couple of larger crates, a globe, typewriter, trinket boxes. Parts rolled and rattled, but you knew what you were here for, right in front of you on the bed. You pulled yourself back up through the hatch.

“This it?” You called to him, holding up a hefty and yet ornate bow. It seemed to be built in the way that somewhat resembled a modern-day compound bow but had a more traditional look to its materials and smaller details. “That’s the one’” he called back. “Here, take these.” He went to pass a bundle of arrows without quiver, but as he did so the beast threw itself at the back of the carriage. You yelled, the impact threw you into the arrows, your blood now over a few of the heads, and all at once you were thrown into darkness, your back slamming against the floor of the inside of the carriage. Shaking your head, you realised what had happened, scrambling on the floor and grabbing as many of the spilled arrows up as you could. Blood began to soak the garments covering your right hip. It was just a flesh wound, but deep enough to sting, reminding you of a time in your childhood when you’d crawled through brambles and the thorns had left 12 longs scars down your torso.

Back on your feet, you booted the doors open, throwing them into the beast’s face, both his clawed hands firmly sunk into the wood either side of the carriage, half running, half being dragged along. He reared his head and roared at you, and you roared back, raising the first arrow and taking aim. “FUCK YOU!” You cried out, the arrow sliced through his cheek but this only made him angrier, throwing one arm into the carriage now, half in, the other arm pulled him further, you realised quickly with terror that you were very quickly being pinned against the bed at the back. It grabbed you around your waist, yanking you down onto the floor, roaring madly once again, into your face, the foulest smelling breath hot and slick with spittle. Something crashed off the shelf above you and onto its head, almost like it shot out of place of its own accord, against the natural trajectory of the way of which the carriage was now turning. It threw the beast back out of the carriage and you only had a moment to grab onto a fixture on the wall which held tools in place before you felt the carriage begin to topple and hurtle.

You lost count of how many rolls it took, but when it stopped it was deathly silent, like a veil had been pulled over this part of the woods. Rain began to fall on the deathly branches above in the would-be canopy. You pulled yourself out, scathed and bleeding, but you weren’t done. Good job you’d thought to throw on your light armour mid hike. You looked around at the driver, he didn’t say anything, but he was breathing. “Are you ok, friend?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. He brought his head up and looked up at you. “Yes.” He replied, placing one of his hands over yours. You nodded and started walking to the hulking heap of hair, blood and muscle only meters away. With each step you took you felt the presence of something growing behind you, like a shadow. The sound of metal scraping. “He’s here.” You heard your companion breathe. You had no idea who or what he meant, but right now you had one thing on your mind and that was your kill.

Still closing the gap without a falter, you took three arrows that you had clipped to your bag only moments ago, set their heads ablaze with the fluid and lighter. You set them against the nock, the flames burning bright now in your eyes, and a shower of metal, knives, bullets, scraps came flying down from around you and into the flesh of the beast. They didn’t just stop upon impact, they kept going, embedding themselves further and further into its flesh. It bellowed and swung its arms in pain, standing tall above you, arching it’s back, but still you stood your ground, unblinking, until it fell back down to the ground, writhing now. You leapt up onto its twisting shoulder, taking aim with the bow and let the trio of burning arrows do their work, shattering through the skull, two ending it all at once, and one at an angle coming back halfway out of its blood shot eye.

You stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. Staring and waiting. No thoughts going through your mind, the darkness in you waning back to the parts of your mind where it usually hid, flowing away like black smoke or the tide going out.

Something was calling. Not out loud, but in your head, your heart, something was calling just for you, but without any sound. You looked up towards the carriage, which strangely was now upright again, though in a bit of a mess, your friend there besides it, a little worse for wear, and a glint of light, the reflection of the flames that had begun to grow around you in the darkness just beyond, the crunch of the undergrowth, and whatever it was, was gone.

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg fanfic #karl heisenberg fluff #leon kennedy #mother miranda #resident evil 2 #resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfic #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil village #heisendaddy #daddy heisenberg

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mc-lukanette · 4 years

Text

42 Lukanette Thoughts

Marinette waiting until Luka’s birthday to give him a response to his confession. He’s absolutely “offended” and she’s just grinning at him.

Luka not being able to swim despite living on a boat. Bonus if Marinette invites him and Juleka out to the swimming pool one day and the absolute love-struck dork finds himself unable to say “no” to her. Juleka thinks it’s hilarious that he can’t just admit to Marinette that he can’t swim, so she has a blast constantly making everything worse, like telling Marinette that Luka doesn’t have a swimsuit so Marinette’ll end up making one for him.

Marinette thinking about the whole “LadyNoir” situation while she’s sketching in her notebook. She finds that she doesn’t even like the way her name meshes with Chat’s. One thought leads to another and she - while not even thinking - ends up writing “Lukanette” in her sketchbook. Cut to her hanging out with Luka later and showing him the designs she came up with that day, meaning that Luka ends up seeing “Lukanette” so casually written in her sketchbook.

Luka Knows™️ but also has to hide it because he can’t have Marinette thinking that he’s crushing on Ladybug. This eventually leads to him telling Ladybug that she can come to him at any time, which leads to nights of Ladybug giving him the snake so he can go on patrol with her. He’s not ready for her lowkey flirting and has to keep reminding himself that he’s not supposed to react since she doesn’t know that he Knows™️.

AU where Kitty Section never became a thing, but it turns out that Marinette’s good at writing lyrics. She actually ends up singing along to a song that Luka never had lyrics for and that’s how she becomes his lyricist.

A concept: switching around “Frozer” and “Captain Hardrock,” meaning that, when Luka goes to comfort this “stranger” walking onto deck, he might not even hear about the ice rink. If he does, they’re not close enough for her to ask him to come with her but he offers her some quick ice skating lessons before the “third-wheeling date.” If he doesn’t and thus gives Marinette no lessons, Adrimi ends up happening due to Marinette staying mostly off the ice due to clumsiness and constantly feeling bad over seeing Adrien and Kagami there, which leads into “Captain Hardrock” where she meets Luka again without any sort of Adrien influence (outside of her getting over him).

Marinette always being made fun of and called “funny” due to her clumsiness when she was little. Likewise, Luka was always considered too “soft” so he began to see it as an insult. Once they’re older, they end up calling each other “funny”/“soft” and suddenly find that it hits very different when it’s THEM saying it to each other because they can tell that there’s no maliciousness there.

Post-reveal friendly shenanigans where Luka is somewhere, idling on his phone, when a flash of red and black swoops down and snatches it out of his hand. He looks around, confused, then manages to catch the sight of Ladybug this time as she swoops back the other way and hands his phone back. He sees that she took a picture of herself winking + sticking her tongue out with his phone and now he can’t stop grinning stupidly to himself.

Marinette waking up after a stressful/exhausting day, then seeing the time and frantically calling Luka, worried that she’d missed an event or something. There’s a light chuckle on the other line as Luka reminds her that it’s Sunday and nothing’s going on so she should get back to sleep.

Post-Guardian Marinette things where Luka is her confidant who she told about her guardian status. Marinette occasionally lets the kwami free whenever she knows that Tom and Sabine won’t come up to disturb them, but it leads to a “problem” of sorts. Pollen, of course, calls Marinette her “queen,” but now that Luka is there also, Pollen calls him her “king” and Marinette and Luka are collectively dying.

Silly thing: snakes of all kinds being attached to Marinette. She’ll go to pet stores and they’ll boop their noses against the glass, wanting her attention. Luka feels unnecessarily smug post-dating because he’s her snake and no one else is.

Luka Knows™️ and finds a way for Marinette to vent about her Ladybug duties without her having to tell him her identity, like mentioning things that happened with Ladybug that day and giving her an opening to talk about them, if only from a faux-outsider’s perspective.

Luka having a terrible day, to the point where he’s legitimately worried about being akumatized. He decides to call Marinette as an akuma starts flying past the window, and just hearing Marinette’s voice alone fills Luka with such positive energy that the akuma is immediately repelled like wow ok i’m out. He watches the akuma leave with a smile and whispers, ”You’re amazing, Marinette.” “W-what?? Did you call just to tell me that?” “No, but it’s true.”

Marinette decides that she wants a challenge and asks Luka if she can make a full guitar for him. He knows he’d be stupid not to agree, but then Marinette shyly adds a condition: he has to name the guitar after her. Luka has no idea how to explain to her that he’s already named a guitar after her so she might have to settle for her guitar being “Marinette 2.”

Luka Knowing™️ and it makes him legitimately upset at how much stress and responsibility has been placed on her. He ends up getting akumatized so he can take her earrings, not to bring them to Hawk Moth, but to “save” her.

Viperion in a particularly tough akuma-related battle. Ladybug legitimately doesn’t know if they’re going to make it out okay, so she ends up finding a moment to confess to him. Cut to later when he ends up having to go back with Second Chance, erasing the moment from time, and apparently he’s just supposed to focus and pretend like he’s okay and he is SO getting her back when this fight is over.

Marinette being afraid to confess to Luka directly, so she’s constantly dropping hints that she likes him and Luka is picking up on none of them because he’s convinced that she still likes Adrien. The rest of Kitty Section is constantly getting on his case for not pursuing Marinette and he’s just like, “But she likes Adrien?” while having like 3984723748234 texts from Marinette just from that day alone.

Marinette deciding to use her Instagram to ramble, leading her to post some pictures of Luka and talk about how nice/sweet/handsome he is because surely he doesn’t follow her account so it’ll be fine (spoiler alert: he follows her account very much and Juleka makes a game out of trying to catch his reaction every time Marinette posts about him).

Post-dating, Marinette insisting to Luka that she “doesn’t want to mess up their first kiss,” and therefore they have to practice kissing each other first, apparently missing the point that it won’t be their first kiss if they’ve kissed each other before. Luka tries to explain the fault in logic but she’s not backing down and, really, who is he to refuse if she wants to kiss him a bunch?

Adulthood Lukanette “cruelty” on Marinette’s part where she decides that she wants to propose to Luka and puts the box with the wedding ring inside one of his guitars with the excuse that she was replacing the strings for him, then leaving Luka to realize what she did later.

Juleka asking Marinette who her favorite hero is because she was getting into a debate with Luka about it and they couldn’t agree. Marinette shyly peeks up because Luka is right there, but nonetheless admits that her favorite is Viperion.

Marinette visiting the Liberty and noticing Luka not playing his guitar and just staring off into space, a soft, loving look on his face. She asks Juleka about it, who casually brushes it off as, “Oh, he always does that when he’s thinking of you.” “When he’s thinking of WHO now????”

Post-dating in which Marinette freaks out over even the smallest contact with Luka just because she’s on a happy emotional high. (”You wanna hold hands??? Like--my hand??? Holding yours??? And our fingers will be intertwining and everything?? And we--stop laughing, Luka, these are important questions!!!”) Bonus if what gets her to take a huge step forward and just passionately kiss Luka is someone mocking their relationship and her proving them otherwise thusly.

Marinette gets a pet snake, names it “Viperion,” and happily uses it as an opportunity to gush about Viperion the second Luka questions why she chose a snake as a pet.

Marinette complains sometimes about Luka being “too tall” but really, it’s perfect for hugs, so-- (even if she still pouts about the fact that she can’t kiss him simply by being on her tip-toes).

Lowkey headcanon that Juleka and Rose purposefully set Marinette up with Luka since they’re like, “Luka’s missing!” in “Captain Hardrock” when Luka is in his room that Juleka shares with him and it would’ve been the first place to go look for him.

Luka being so used to messes and just leaving them alone thanks to living on the Liberty for so long and being around his mother. It’s a really hard habit to break when he starts living with Marinette and he’s extremely apologetic about it.

Luka posting a lot about Marinette/him and Marinette on Instagram and Marinette “fighting back” (bonus if she doesn’t do it intentionally) with posts about Luka/her and Luka/Kitty Section.

Why limit oneself to balcony scenes when you can have houseboat scenes too???

Marinette being offended by any polls where Ladybug wins over Viperion except Luka is offended by her opinion and it’s just them going back and forth about why Ladybug/Viperion should be more popular.

Tikki agreeing with Master Fu that Marinette and Adrien are “made for each other” but being a closet Lukanette fan in secret. That tiny Kitty Section shirt that Marinette made on Instagram is hers.

Pre-”Captain Hardrock,” Luka thinking he’s subtle asking for details about “the girl who broke his sister’s photo curse.” He’s not.

Marinette taking a music class and of course she asks Luka to help with things that she doesn’t understand. Bonus if she’s so into trying to learn that she doesn’t notice when she’s making him blush, like her casually sitting on his lap and asking him to physically instruct her on where her hands should be.

Post-dating, Marinette “bribing” Luka to do things using kisses. Bold of her to assume he wouldn’t have done it anyway, though he won’t say “no” to kisses either.

Marinette, being carried/protected by Viperion, knowing that she needs to leave to transform but also he’s very warm and nice so maybe just a little longer, this akuma isn’t that dangerous/disruptive anyway. (Viperion may also be indulging himself too but she’ll never know.)

“It's amazing how you can be so composed all the time, Luka! It feels like it's impossible to know what you're thinking!“ “Really? But I just think about you all the time, Marinette.“ “*DOESN’T KNOW WHETHER TO BE FLUSTERED OR OFFENDED BECAUSE HOW DARE--*”

Whenever Marinette does that thing where she closes her eyes and raises her head proudly... I feel like Luka gets the sudden urge to either kiss her or cup her cheeks.

Marinette and Luka having “silence challenges” in adulthood where they give each other affection and the first one to make a noise loses. The challenge never lasts long.

I just presume that Luka has sixth senses that go off the second Marinette is completely over Adrien.

Post-reveal and post-dating where Luka expresses concern to Marinette about the whole “destiny” nonsense with Adrien being Chat Noir and Marinette lets Luka know how she feels about that by showering Luka with lots of kisses.

Luka not realizing what he said to Marinette in “Silencer” until he goes home and Juleka asks him what they’d been talking about. His face turns progressively redder as he makes the realization.

Post-dating, Marinette not being used to the abundance of affection that Luka’s going to give her due to how many times she failed with Adrien.

#type: thoughts #Flower Arrangement Shipping #type: prompt set #((Not really but I could see people viewing it as one.))#Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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dansnaturepictures · 3 years

Photo

7/8/21-Return to Blashford Lakes

Today we went somewhere we hadn’t been for seventeen months and five days. A place that with its splendidly varied habitats which hosts a huge variety of birds throughout the year rare and common, and is strong for butterflies, moths, dragonflies and mammals too and was one of our most crucial and one of my favourite nature reserves in my late childhood and teenage years as I got hooked on birdwatching, wildlife generally and photography and I have always loved it since. Over the years there tended to be a barren spell of us going there over the summer as we maybe focused on more butterfly and other insect dominated locations this pattern developing into my working days a bit as we did come during summer holidays in my school/college days but all year throughout the winter especially this hub for wildlife has been a regular haunt for us for so long. But after that last visit on 1st March 2020 obviously Covid hit and the you could say main feature of seeing wildlife at this reserve is the hides, so it is a reserve good for piling into hides with lots of people looking at birds so obviously not good during Covid times. I have to say the team did work very hard to get the reserve open safely without the hides post lockdown 1 and we did explore the idea of coming back to enjoy this at a stage but due to one thing and another we sadly never quite managed it. But following 19th July the hides now are open with the welcome precautions still in place of masks to be worn and every window that can be opened.

A Black-necked Grebe that had been reported on Ibsley Water attracted us here especially today which we needed to see, and it allowed for this sweet reunion with a place I hold dear. During all the discussions of things you will do when lockdown eases or when we find our way to some kind of normal I felt extremely lucky as I have been able to do my main hobby still just because of what it is. But this was one thing on my list of things I wanted to get back to, getting back to places like these so hide dominated reserves. Prior to today since Covid hit it was only Sculthorpe Moor in Norfolk last September and an open screen/hide type area at Newborough Forest in Anglesey this June that I’d been to hides at.

As I walked in at the visitor centre side of the road entrance it was great to be back and one difference from when I last came here is obviously how vastly more interested I am in flowers now and other areas of insects too. And on the verge at the entrance was a lovely moth mullein which I took a photo of and tweeted on Dans_Pictues tonight one I learnt today. St. John’s-wort and yarrow adorned this patch of grass too and there was a lovely little deraeocoris ruber insect on the yarrow a new one for me which was delightful to see. A big thing about my deeper delves into flowers and other insects over the months has obviously been learning so much and it was the sign of the times back at one of my favourite nature reserves that I was only stood on a grass verge beside a road entrance to the site for two minutes or so and I’d learnt two new species!

I then proceeded across the grassy area to get to ivy north hide the first hide I went into in Hampshire since March 2020 and it was stunning to see the fields carpeted in St. John’s-wort, ragowrt and catsear/hawksbeard type flowers making it look deliciously yellow with thistle, black mullein, self-heal and others looking very pretty too. I took the first picture in this photoset of this area. I also liked seeing one of my favourite flowers foxgloves, purple loosestrife, centaury, wild parsnip, dock and Wood avens and Herb-Robert great woodland species that I hadn’t seen for a while still going strong with shadows of cow parnsnip as well throughout the reserve today. On the field area I noticed a beautiful moth flitting around which I got great views of landed on vegetation a smashing Treble-bar a new moth for me today which I also tweeted a photo fo. A welcome life and year tick for my moths and as my eighteenth identified moth species seen this year it levels (whilst I didn’t do a year list then, I worked this out recently) the amount of moths I saw and knew what they were in 2020 which I am pleased with. And whilst I might not ever be able to know every moth I see its more than justified me reinstating my moth year lists recently as I’ve seen more identified moths than dragon/damselflies and mammals two more year lists I keep beside birds and butterflies the main ones this year so far. I also did here today maybe my penultimate Big Butterfly Count this year with the survey ending tomorrow I had never done one here before and I saw three Gatekeepers and one Small White and Speckled Wood between the showers. A splendid Southern Hawker paraded over this area which I saw on the way out and back.

I reached ivy north hide and among other things I came away impressed with how Covid secure the reserve is to visit as to save going into the hide if one wishes they have added a little open air viewing screen next to the hide which is interesting. As well as lovely views of ivy lake decent numbers of Sand Martins and a Common Tern parading over the water welcomed me back as key Blashford birds at this time of year and I’d not seen either for a few weeks now whilst having a really good year for them both. By the visitor centre I liked seeing some elecampane and mint in a very colourful flower bed area which I took the second picture in this photoset of seeing a nice bee on it too. Before spending some time at ivy south hide and seeing much the same wildlife wise to ivy north with Common Tern flying very nicely over and young Black-headed Gulls among the gulls out there and taking in some nice views I went in the woodland hide.

At this hide one of my absolute favourites with such intimate views available of feeding birds behind the glass where you can see them but they can’t see you as a shower came and went and some brightness emerged I liked seeing the memorable species of this area come one by one. Firstly a Robin one of some seen across the reserve today a fitting one as on that 1st March 2020 visit I took one of my favourite ever pictures I’ve taken of this iconic species. Then the commoner tits were there with Dunnock, soon to be followed by Marsh Tit coming to feed. Coal Tit and Chaffinch would soon follow as wood delicious looking Nuthatch. And I was stunned and got some very exciting moments when a dominant and large flash of red, cream and black arrived in the form of a Great Spotted Woodpecker (GSW). You can’t come to Blashford and the woodland hide and not see these, one of the species that has captivated me most at this reserve right from when we very first visited the bird of Blashford for me for so long with so many times waiting, watching and hoping and loving seeing and trying for photos of. I took and tweeted a photo of this bird, not the best in an awkward angle a little with it more so on the other side of the feeder than my side but having not been here for nearly a year and a half and how important the GSW is to our Blashford visits I was inclined to take whatever I could get if in the summer days when less birds come to the feeders with food available naturally I was lucky enough to see one. And whilst I’ve been so lucky to see and hear these birds a lot elsewhere since last March it was probably my best chances for pictures since this a species I did photograph from this hide on 1st March 2020 too so it felt so good to be back getting such a prolonged view of it. I rarely see many species on a feeder at the same time as the woodpecker they are that dominant but Great Tit and others did stand up to it and be on the feeder at the same time today.

It was exhilirating to see a Jay and then another fly in displacing the dominant woodpecker and seeing a shaggy looking Jay especially dash past the window getting a striking view I thought it was going to crash into the window at one point. A spectacular moment and I loved getting pictures of them again this year today including the third picture in this photoset I have had a good year for them. Two standout moments on this trip today with two of my favourite birds. I took the fourth and fifth pictures in this photoset of the body of water on the way to ivy south hide and a lovely view of ivy lake there.

I then met up with my Mum who had returned from a dog walk at nearby Rockford Common with Missy to end the day in the tern hide. There was no sign of the Black-necked Grebe for us as I arrived after a shower but I did see a lot else. This included an early Goosander, a key staple of a Blashford winter this female was something of an early one and we got a pleasant view of this distinguished duck I took the sixth picture in this photoset of this with my bridge camera which came to life in this hide alongside my DSLR for photos I certainly in summer days where maybe it happens less felt I got my fill of bird photos at this top bird spot. I loved seeing the young speckled Lapwing in the seventh picture in this photoset of a nice intimate view I got of this wonderful wader. There were many Egyptian Geese around too I got some stunning views of these including the one in the tenth picture in this photoset. This was my bogey bird this year one I struggled to see quickly which I usually see without too much trouble due to not coming to Blashford we didn’t see any until Fishlake Meadows and then Petersfield Heath Pond in June seeing an extraordinary amount at the latter with Ruddy Shelduck too. Seeing them all here today it was as though we never needed to worry about seeing one this year. There were top views and more photo opportunities of another of my favourite birds with Great Crested Grebe, and I enjoyed seeing gulls including Lesser Black-backed Gulls well. Another pick of the bunch on Ibsley Water was a sweet little Common Sandpiper a key bird for this spot, a third seen this year by me which has been great after RSPB Lodmoor and Stour Vallye nature reserve in Dorset over two days in our April week off of day trips. The top bird moments were set nicely to dramatic scenes as a further showers moved in and their were touches of sun as well looking over the smashing Ibsley water and I was so glad to be back at Blashford. Its interesting sat in the tern hide on Ibsely Water an area overlooked by the further along Goosander hide and Lapwing hide too, I saw Common Tern some more as well as Lapwing and Goosander. With the Goosanders mostly in over winter any terns the spring and summer migrants you would not see them together so this must be the first time I saw all three in a day which I found very interesting. I took the eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of the views here.

An always likely sight in the woodland hide at Blashford greeted us when home this evening when a Sparrowhawk flew up from the garden and over the other gardens, appearing to have had a kill with some feathers left in the garden. This was so exciting to see. I had seen probably this Sparrowhawk hovering over the area recently and with the noise and numbers from the Starlings coming in lately this was maybe only a matter of time. Its another glorious Sparrowhawk in the garden experience which I feel over the moon to have a little collection going for here and my Dad’s house where I grew up. I liked seeing some new pretty flowers the bright red chrysanthemums in the back garden too and alongside nice other bird and sky views at home today it was special to see some Goldfinches including a young bird on the balcony feeders once more. What a brilliant Saturday, I hope you all had a good one.

Wildlife Sightings Summary for Blashford Lakes: My first ever deraeocoris ruber and Treble-bar moth, three of my favourite birds the Great Spotted Woodpecker, Jay and Great Crested Grbee, one of my favourite dragonflies the Southern Hawker, Cormorant, Lesser Black-backed Gull, Herring Gull, Black-headed Gull, Common Tern, Coot, lots of Tufted Duck, Mallard, Goosander, lots of Mute Swans, Egyptian Goose, Lapwing, Common Sandpiper, Sand Martin, lots of Woodpigeons, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Coal Tit, Marsh Tit, Nuthatch, Robin, Dunnock, Chaffinch, Gatekeeper, Speckled Wood, Small White, cranefly just inside the window of ivy south hide and bee.

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dappercritter · 3 years

Note

She-Ra for the ask meme! (Maybe a bad time with the final season so close, you can save this until after if you like.)

(Based on this meme.)

Well, did I save this for later or what?

The first character I first fell in love with: Entrapta. Aside from her colour scheme—I do love a good purple girl, to say the least—I adore her for her enthusiastic, inquisitive, compassionate, and rather eccentric personality. Not to mention her design is an absolute joy to watch in action; from the goggles to the prehensile hair, is creative and adorable. She steals every scene she’s in with her loveably manic energy. The fact that she’s a scientist, who specializes in advanced technology no less, makes her an important character in a magic-driven fantasy setting—her design helps her stand out among the more traditional looking princesses, too! The fact that she’s some of the most effectively authentic examples of autistic representation in children’s fiction only enhances her likeability, in addition to the most interesting and sympathetic examples of morally grey characters that I’ve seen. Her wonderful chemistry with the rest of the Horde adds both to her charm, and really helped lighten things up on the villain’s side for the first 2-3 seasons, and her relationship with Hordak… Well, I’ll get to that shortly! 😉

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Madame Razz. I figured Razz was going to be a fun mentor character, but I could have never suspected she’d be the best mentor I and Adora could ask for! I’m not familiar with her original counterpart, but whatever they had to work with, I applaud the crew for taking the silliest looking character in the original line-up and turning her into this charming little old lady whose equal parts Yoda and Ghibli grandma. (Or at least that’s how I describe her.) Her design gets special mention, too, for just how dang cute she is! The big glasses, the raggedy dress, big fluffy hair with moths flying around, and her witch broom all come together so well. Out of all Adora’s mentors, she’s the best— having no ulterior motives, agendas, or any manipulative or toxic behaviour laced into her teaching style, offers the best life advice she can to someone who clearly needs it out of kindness. And because she bears a certain resemblance to someone she once knew in a similar position.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: Catra. Shocking right? Look, I know that she had an awful time growing up in the Fright Zone and by the end of the show she became more well-rounded and likeable. Any grief I have with her is pretty much over done with. Problem is though… it is pretty hard to forget everything she did. Now, I know it’s all in the past and a lot of people haven’t forgotten what she did either, and that some of it has to do with the ugliness of the Catradora vs. Entrapdak dynamic discourse and I don’t want to go into that. I really don’t. But put as simply as possible, she was a toxic friend, especially in regards to Adora (the Season 1 and 2/3 finales in particular) and Entrapta (who she betrayed, left to die after lying about her to her lover/best friend, and the offering the bare minimum of an apology), and escalated a war just to get back at Adora. After she tried to destroy REALITY to get back at her. I’m glad she changed but it still feels like too little too late.

The character I love that everyone else hates: Swift Wind. Sure, he’s a talking horse with a design that can wander a good ways into the uncanny valley, and who tries too hard too hard to be funny, but in spite of that I think he’s got a good heart behind that strange face of his. He does his best to be a good friend to Adora, supporting her both as herself and when she’s She-Ra, as well as doing his best to support Adora’s other friends as well (see “Boy’s Night Out”). Chiefly by trying to make light of Adora’s duties as She-Ra by trying help her find the fun and excitement in it. Of course, he doesn’t just try to keep the energy up, he shows genuine concern for Adora and all her friends, not hesitating to rush to their protection or point out when a situation seems especially dire. (see “Beast Island” and “Failsafe”). But I think my favourite example is from “Hero” where he casually reveals that he regularly checks in on Madame Razz because, as he says, “You gotta check up on old ladies alone in the woods.” What a horse!

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Glimmer. I used to love her personality and her design. A peppy rebel who lived for adventure and a good friend to Adora and Bow. Even if she had her flaws like her impulsiveness and her stubbornness, she was still pretty likeable. But then she called her mom a coward for acting as a strategist and looking after Bright Moon, which ended up convincing her to sacrifice herself to close the rift at the end of S3. Alright, fair enough, some things can’t be avoided. Then she took over as queen, and I can understand there was A LOT of factors that were in play—namely grief and Double Trouble deliberately playing on her strained friendship with Adora and Bow as part of one of Catra’s plots—but boy howdy, did she start showing a pretty unsavory side what with her increasingly ruthless demeanor, trusting Adora’s abuser (hi Shadow Weaver, be with you in minute) over her, choosing to leave Entrapta in very real peril on Beast Island, and willingly using a weapon she knew could destroy all of Etheria to win a war. Perhaps I wouldn’t have minded as much if season 5 didn’t rush through her apologies and redemption so quickly, but the fact remains that Glimmer’s character took an awfully dark turn that’s not quite going to be so easily forgotten.

The character I would totally smooch: In a dark future where Entrapta never found love with Hordak, for one terrible reason or another, I would totally give her a smooch. I’ve said it before and say it again: Mad scientist princess is best princess! The character I’d want to be like: Bow. In some capacity I’m already like him, namely being super emotional and doing his damnedest to be a good friend even when things are tough, as well as being the voice of reason and a tinkerer (what? Tinkering with artsy stuff counts!). But I’d like to follow his example of being more level-headed, softer, optimistic, but also more assertive as opposed to my impulsive, harsher, cynical, and reserved current self.

The character I’d slap: Shadow Weaver. Need I explain? No, and anyway I can’t slap her anyways because she pulled the most manipulative heroic sacrifice I’ve ever seen. Dammit it, Shadow Weaver! (I really wanted to say Horde Prime but I feel like he wasn’t developed quite enough to be as hateable as he could be. Not to say that he isn’t an absolute piece of trash who deserved what he had coming already, but we didn’t get to spend three whole seasons getting to know the depths of his manipulative depravity while simultaneously weaseling his way into a twisted version of a redemption arc, unlike someone else I just talked about.)

A pairing that I love: Entrapdak. In case, it wasn’t already obvious. To summarize, in spite of all the drama that surrounds them and their actions, they honestly have the sweetest, most affectionate, and quite possibly the most healthy and engaging pair of the entire show (next to Spinnerella and Netossa, of course). Shoot, if it weren’t for these two and my hopes to see them reunite again, I would have left the fandom entirely at this point! (No seriously, I’m getting tired, folks.)

A pairing that I despise: Hordak X Horde Prime, but I think that’s the point, since most people use it to explore toxic relationships from a distance. Anyways, I really do not want to talk about abusive alien selfcest.

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insomniac-dot-ink · 4 years

Text

The Hopping Lamp Post

The night was thick with sugared darkness that left my neighborhood feeling grainy and unreal in the velvet insides of night. I was hunched over on the sidewalk with my back to the front door.

“You can’t just come home at all hours of the night and expect--” “I told you I was at work!”

“Work my ass!”

“Can’t I come home from a long day without being…”

The voices screeched back and forth like alley cats defending their own piss-smelling crevice of the street they owned. I flinched and knew I didn’t want to go back inside. Never, ever, I could stay outside in the grim darkness for as long as it took no matter how much my mom hollered and pulled out her hair.

I used dirt to doodle circles in the cement in front of me and lost myself to the rough feel of the smeared earth. I was studying it like a painter studies the face of a subject when I heard the front door open.

“Where is that girl?” I jerked myself to my feet and scurried away down the street. My mom wasn’t so determined as to go anywhere past our front lawn. The neighborhood was hushed with little moths zapping at porch lights and windows all but empty black eyes staring out.

I wandered away from our block and it was only when I couldn’t see our house anymore that I let out my held breath. I blinked a few times as mist started twisting off the ground in haunting tiny spirals.

I turned around in circles as I watched the ground grow foggy and it wasn’t until I looked up that I saw it.

I stood up straight like the pads of my feet had been electrocuted. Right at the end of the street standing proudly tall and stiff was something that shouldn’t be there. I rubbed my eyes with my fists until little white spots appeared.

I opened my eyes again to find the same black metal thing with a glittering white light ahead. It wasn’t like any of the other lamp posts on the block-- not tall and tired bent metal and a hanging dull yellow light.

It was finely crafted with indents like a roman column and a curved neck with a hanging lantern at the end that gave off light like snowfall and stars. I took a cautious step toward it. It took a step back.

“What?” My brow folded in.

I edged closer and the thing edged back. I looked down and found that through the mist and unfurling curls of clouds that there was some sort of foot at the bottom of the lamp post. “Well that ain’t right.” I muttered and took a few hurried steps closer.

It leaned back from my presence like a fancy lady from a corner bum, but it wasn’t fast enough. I managed to get a few feet from the lamp post and squint up at its tall metal body.

“Where you from?” I asked as I would any stranger from out of town. It hopped back and I followed. I was on Wilkinson street now with more faceless tiny beige and grey houses that bled out into the highway. I couldn’t hear the busy traffic right then though.

I only had eyes for the hopping lamp post.

“You come far?” I said and circled around the light like a dog with a scent. “What’chu ya doing here?”

Bugs bumped into the glass of it's head and landed on it’s metal top as if to take up residence. I was close enough now to make out the big grey feathery moths with fat bodies and tiny white moths that look like delicate fairies lost from home.

I frowned at the closest moth. It’s wings were frayed and threadbare like it had been through the wash one too many times. Another moth had two sets of wings on its back. A third one was a little firefly that could barely glow it’s little butt at all.

“Huh.” I bit my bottom lip and glanced up shyly toward the light as we strolled to the end of Wilkinson. “They’re like me, huh?” I spoke slowly in a low voice as if not to spook it.

The mist was fuming off the ground in great big fistfuls now like the whole world was a bathtub and it was determined to fog up every single mirror nearby. I couldn’t hear so much as a yapping dog by then and no whir of cars that should still be running at this hour.

I gathered myself a little closer to the lamp that gave another enormous hop forward in a jerking unsteady motion. I glanced up to see that a bat was hovering close to the light. It’s tiny body was fury and it flapped mechanically by the side of the light. From head to foot it was pure white.

“Like me . . . ” I murmured and brought a hand up toward my chest to fist my shirt. “Wrong.”

I had never been wrong in the way people could tell. They couldn’t point at me and say “there’s that wrong girl!” But I had never had a teacher that hadn’t given me funny looks for my questions and hadn’t gone to a family reunion without an auntie muttering “that one’s a little off in the head” to another auntie.

I looked down as to not focus on the white bat or the double-winged moth or any of the other creatures that were pulled to the light of the lamp post. I stopped in place as I peered at the ground, but the ground didn’t seem to be there. It seemed to have fallen away and I gasped.

It was just dark beneath my ratty white sneakers. I looked up and the houses were all but distant outlines from a different life. The mist was growing thicker and the only light was from the silvery glow the lamp ahead.

I clenched my teeth and inhaled sharply through my nose. “Where are we?” I looked up and the lamp was now at least several paces away. “Wait!” I ran after it. “How do I get home?” It gave another mighty hop and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to turn back or find out about more things that shouldn’t be. I gave a small glance over my shoulder and it was all mist and darkness behind us now anyway. I kept following the hopping lamp.

The darkness became almost absolute and I held my breath as the mist grew thick and tangible. It licked my cheeks like a wet kiss and my hair was heavy on my shoulders from the moisture clinging to it.

I started shivering. I didn’t want to keep looking. I didn’t want to see what was beyond that mist and dank gloom. I started to hear things. I heard deep ugly breaths from something that had be bigger than the biggest horse I’d ever seen and bigger than any dog from down the street.

It gulped down air in a deep raspy voice. In. Out. It’s nose was probably the size of a bus and it’s lungs bigger than any whale. I could smell brine and salt in the air and I couldn’t stop shivering.

To my surprise the lamp’s pace slowed. It stopped in place and it’s hanging head turned and faced me. My eyes went wide, “So you ain’t gonna just leave me after all?” I whispered and slowly reached out my hand. I put it softly on the cool metal of the lamp and we began to walk together.

I closed my eyes because I didn’t want to see the monsters we were approaching in the dark. I didn’t want to see what lay ahead. Nonetheless, I felt that warm bath of air hit me across the face and we passed the beasts.

I opened my eyes again to the sound of cars honking and an even stronger scent of salt. I turned and we were standing on a road this time with the mist still thick and dancing off the cement. Something was different.

The road was winding up a huge mountain top and on the other side was the twilight dusk and an ocean that spanned as far as I could see. It was a shifting flatness with pools of blue midnight and frothing white waves out in the distance. I smiled broadly. “I’ve never seen the ocean.” A car passed with it’s headlights blinking and it was like no car I had ever seen before. It’s windows were too broad and lamps too bright. The figure inside was shadowed and strange with hands made out of smudgy murkiness and a shrouded face.

I steadied myself. “Alright,” I put my hand back on the lamp post. “Let’s keep going.” We walked through that world of ocean and ghosts. I closed my eyes and we passed between another darkness with the sounds of sleeping monsters and into new unknown places. We entered a world of dirt roads that led past unkempt green gardens with fruit like diamonds and rubies. We went through nights that were all storms with lightning flashing out on the horizon and people that were shaped like angels flying out toward it.

The sun never rose and we never stopped walking. It could have been a lifetime. It could have been just that night and nothing else. I oohed and awed at the strange sights and smells of ozone and sunshine. It was only in that third darkness that my legs started to complain and my eyes started to droop and betray me.

The lamp slowed its pace to an inching crawl.

“It’s alright.” I yawned. “I don’t wanna go back.” I said softly with my eyes closed. We walked into the darkness of beasts once more. “But I gotta. Don’t I?”

Something landed on my shoulder as we went into a new road made of crushed white shells and with running water the color of mirrors besides us. Little floating lights dancing just above the surface of the river and I blinked at a giant moth perched on me. She had white feathery feelers and wings with grey eyes in the center. She was missing an eye on the right side of her face and I smiled at her.

“Well hey there,” She was the size of a kite and her little legs tickled my shoulder. “You’re not from where I’m from.” I said with a nod, “you’re awful pretty though. You all tangled up about going home too?” She moved her feelers up and down and cocked my head to the side. “It’s not so bad. But it’s not so good either.” I shivered from somewhere deep inside of me and gave her a sad smile. “I just . . . can’t seem to get myself to turn around yet.” The moth gave me a long look before she took off from my shoulder. She flapped away into the moonlight of this strange land and the lamp post simply sat in place. I made a face, “now you feel like stoppin?”

The lamp post simply angled it’s face to the sky.

I followed it with my eyes. It was a long few minutes in the cold damp air with the water rushing besides and lights flitting around. I waved when the moth finally returned with something between her feet. She was carrying something that shone with the force of gold teeth in the mouths of rich men. I opened my hand and the moth dropped a single coin into my hand.

“Oh,” I breathed and held up a golden metal disk. The front held face I didn’t recognize in any way on it.

A queen maybe. She was in profile on the coin with a half-smile, her eyes closed, and crown of light on her head. I made a hiccup of sound as the coin fit snuggling in my palm and gave off a strange burning warmth.

I turned it over and over in my hands and ran my fingers over squiggles on the back that could only be words. I sucked in breath. “What’s this for?” The moth only turned around and suddenly it was flying back toward the way we came. The lamp turned too and I frowned. In a twist that was more ironic than not the lamp started to follow the moth.

"Wait for me!" I trailed after.

We went back through the beast realm. Back through the night garden of jewels and back through the storm lands of angels and mountains of ghosts. We returned to my street with the slanted roofs and scraggly lawns.

I held the coin hard in my hands and turned to the lamp post. “Thank you.” I said with a nod as you’re supposed to for helpful strangers. “I’ll remember this, always.” I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to return yet, but the lamp bent its long head and the light caught in my eyes. I looked down and the words on the coin righted themselves like soldiers called to duty all at once.

“Be brave,” I read the words and traced them with my fingers. “Because the light will always come.” I blinked and the words remained just as the lamp kept hopping down the street on its endless trek. I slowly waved goodbye in the way of children who are able to accept things that shouldn’t be but are.

I turned and went back into my house just as the night was losing its shape and the sun broke across the heavens. And I was going to be brave for however long it took until the light came again.

--------

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spicycreativity · 3 years

Text

Howl- Ch. 3

Chapter: 3/10

Add'l Notes: Fic is posted in full on my AO3, WizardGlick

Chapter content warnings: Depictions of alcohol use

“Nothing,” Remus pronounced. His breath ghosted over Virgil’s ear and he shuddered, pulling away so he could look Remus in the face. Remus was still in his work clothes and he smelled, not wholly unpleasantly, of sweat and dirty water.

“Nothing?” Virgil ran his pointer fingers behind both ears, just barely resisting the urge to dig in with his nails and see for himself, dammit.

“I think you’d know if aliens had stuck a tracking chip in your head,” Remus said, his own fingers dancing across the countertop toward the basket of enamel pins by the register.

Virgil ran his fingertips across his temples, still feeling for something, some marking or scar. “But if it wasn’t aliens...”

“Far be it from me to be the voice of reason,” Remus said, “but are we sure you weren’t just sleepwalking? Or high on peyote?"

Virgil continued to track Remus' fingers as he stuck his hand in the basket. "If you steal anything, it comes out of my paycheck." Not strictly true, but it would make Remus pause.

"I wasn't gonna steal!" Remus exclaimed, holding up his hands. "But now I kinda want to."

"Please don't." Virgil sighed and put his face in his hands. He'd noticed a strange metallic taste in his mouth after waking up properly, and even the desperate mouthfuls of Monster he'd been forcing down his throat couldn't seem to touch it. It hadn't touched his exhaustion much, either. Whatever Virgil had been up to last night had not been a restful activity.

"Oh, c'mon, don't freak out." Remus' hand sat heavy on Virgil's shoulder, warming him through the thin fabric of his Baphomet t-shirt. "You were probably just sleepwalking. It happens all the time. Roman used to sleepwalk all over the place when we were kids. One time we even found him asleep in the yard. Naked, just like you."

Virgil peeked over his fingertips. "Really?" Remus was not the type to lie to make someone feel better, but this story seemed a little far-fetched.

"I swear," Remus said, eyes wide with childish solemnity.

The only customer in the store stepped up to pay, and Remus stepped aside to let Virgil deal with them. He made faces behind their back, contorted himself into absurdly sexual poses and stuck out his tongue and wiggled his hips like Elvis in his prime. Virgil pursed his lips to keep from laughing. It had been a hard decision to ask Remus for help with this, but Virgil was glad he had chosen him.

Patton was a big softie and nearly as prone to panic as Virgil was. If he didn't escalate Virgil's paranoia about aliens then he would probably end up pressuring Virgil to make a police report. A useless endeavor, since no crime had actually occurred as far as Virgil knew. Roman and Janus would just make fun of him for being a tin foil hat-wearing loony. And Logan… Well. He might judge. He might not. But Virgil didn't want to look stupid in front of him. Not to mention that Logan would ask questions, force Virgil to face something he wasn't ready to face.

So Remus it was.

"Thank you," Virgil said when the customer had left and Remus had stopped gyrating his hips. "I know I'm being dumb and it was probably nothing."

"Janus isn't here right now," Remus said, pouring out the basket of enamel pins. They scattered and clicked across the countertop. "But if he was, I think he'd say--" Remus shifted his weight and crossed his arms, "'Now what did we say about negative self talk?'"

Virgil chose not to remind Remus that Bienvenue was only a few blocks away and he could easily go get Janus if he wanted. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I know it wasn't aliens."

"But if it was peyote, you do have to share," Remus said, his attention already back on the pins. He poked through them with one dirty fingertip.

Virgil watched for a moment, then joined in, turning the pins to face Remus so he could get a good look at them. Remus seemed particularly fixated on one shaped like a death's head moth. "That one's six dollars."

Remus braced his elbows on the counter and clasped his hands under his chin, lashes aflutter. "You know how you could repay me for checking your skull for alien trackers?"

Virgil nearly reached for his wallet before he realized what Remus was actually getting at. He sighed, biting back his smile all the while, and made a show of turning to inspect the rotating sticker display. "Uh-oh," he said in an exaggerated monotone. "I'd better make sure all the stickers are properly organized. Gee, I sure hope no one shoplifts while I'm doing that."

There was a brief moment of silence. It was broken when Remus, presumably done pocketing the pin, said, "So bowling night?"

"Huh?" said Virgil, trying to find the dirty joke. Maybe something about balls?

Remus pulled his phone out of the pocket of his work pants and shook it at Virgil. "Pastor Patton's little group bonding venture?"

"Don't call him that," Virgil muttered, digging his phone out of his pocket. Sure enough, of the messages he'd been ignoring all morning, one was a new group chat. He read through the messages. "How did Patton get your number?"

"Roman gave it to him."

"How'd he get Janus' number?"

Remus grinned. "I gave it to him. No way am I suffering through some corny adult bonding shit without backup."

"Am I not backup?" Virgil asked, unsure whether he should be offended.

"You can't be backup," Remus said dismissively. "You're the bridge. You forced me 'n' Roman to reunite, you made us all hang out. You're the bridge. You won't be as mean as I need you to be."

"I'm mean!" Virgil said. "I'm so mean!"

"Say something bitchy about Patton right now. Quickly!" Remus began to snap his fingers.

"Um," said Virgil. "Uh. Sometimes-- Well, sometimes he can be kinda… Smother-y?"

"Oh, please." Remus rolled his eyes. "That was almost healthy communication."

"Fine." Virgil crossed his arms over his chest.

Remus let him pretend to be upset for roughly three seconds. "But you are coming, right? Or are you gonna spend the night playing with Data's joystick?"

Virgil's cheeks went hot. "Of course I'm com--" He paused and reconsidered his choice of words. "Of course I'll be there. And Logan will, too."

"Wonder if I can start a betting pool," Remus said thoughtfully.

The bells on the door tinkled and Virgil leaned over to see past Remus. "Hi, welcome in," he said in his best customer service voice, which wasn't very good. "Let me know if I can help you find anything."

"Just browsing."

"Alright."

"Well," said Remus, affixing the moth pin to his hi-vis vest. "See you tonight?"

"Yeah," said Virgil. "Please be nice to Patton."

Remus winked and started to back out. "Sorry! Hazing is mandatory."

He slipped out the door, leaving Virgil to marinate in his anxiety.

Although he was exhausted, Virgil went for a short walk after work. He wandered by Bienvenue and stared at the fancy suits in the window and wondered how Janus always had the audacity to dress like he was attending a funeral at a high-end night club. His feet took him forward and he smiled a little. If there was one thing Janus had in abundance, it was audacity.

He stopped again by the reflecting pool at the Plaza and read the plaque. It had very little information and devoted barely half a sentence to the supposed curse. A shiver ran down Virgil's spine. He took a deep breath and carefully did not panic. As Logan would say, he shouldn't jump to conclusions. He needed more data.

Virgil didn't want more data. He would happily chalk his misadventure up to sleepwalking and banish it forcefully to his subconscious, if only it would never, ever happen again. He shivered again despite the balmy weather and muffled a yawn behind his hand. Time to go home and get whatever sleep he could before the inevitable disaster of bowling night.

He managed to get home without hitting any potholes. Whatever stormy weather had threatened Vaillant earlier in the week seemed to have passed, and he was treated to a spectacular view of a great blue heron flying low over the road. He even managed a few hours of sleep before he had to wake up and get ready.

He chose his outfit with care, scrutinizing it through Logan's eyes. What would Logan like? What did Logan like? Virgil had no idea about his preference in men or how he slotted into it. Was it his height? His body shape? His eyes? What should he play up to make Logan like him? So Logan wouldn't regret choosing to be with him?

He dithered over this until he made himself late, and chose an outfit that he felt good in: long sleeves, long pants, the reassuring weight of his hoodie on his shoulders.

He kept it zipped up to his neck even after he entered the warmth and light of Vaillant's singular bowling alley, Gator Lanes. His friends were already seated. Waiting. For him.

Despite the wash of guilt, Virgil slowed and surveyed the scene. Patton and Logan sat on one of the low, pleather couches with a pair of bowling shoes between them. That left Roman, Remus, and Janus wedged on the other couch. They all looked like they were getting along, which was good. Roman and Remus were speed-eating French fries while the others talked.

Virgil approached from the back, gesturing for Patton and Logan to be quiet. He didn't miss the way Logan's eyes lit up; it sent a pleasant little rush of adrenaline all through his veins. When he was close enough, he leaned over and stole the pineapple off the rim of Janus' hurricane glass. It was dyed red from grenadine and tasted vaguely of rum.

"It's fine," said Janus, casually flipping Virgil the bird. "I wasn't saving that or anything."

"Guess you'll have to get another one," Remus said.

They started bickering about how drunk was too drunk for bowling night, so Virgil came around to Patton and Logan's side of the table. He kissed Logan hello while Patton explained about the shoes: "They were out of your size, so I got a size down instead of up, because I know you wear those really thin socks and I didn't want you to slip."

"Thanks, Pat," Virgil said. His hand found Logan's, somehow, and he smiled. "I wouldn't have put that much thought into it."

"That's why you have me!"

"Can we start now?" Roman asked, wiggling in place.

Patton stood up to fiddle with the control, and Virgil forced himself to nuzzle Logan's jawline with his nose. He wanted to do it, but the idea of being witnessed while he did so made his skin crawl.

Logan turned his head so they were nose-to-nose and smiled before pulling away. "Do you want me to order you a drink? We were going to, but we weren't sure what you'd want."

Roman threw a straw wrapper at them. "We're just about to start!"

"You're up second, too," Patton said cheerfully, flopping back down on the couch. "I put us in alphabetical order."

"I'll go, then," Virgil said. He squeezed Logan's hand and let go of it, stood.

"Don't forget to put your bowling shoes on," Janus said, eying Virgil's ratty leather ankle boots. Janus himself had somehow done the impossible and matched the colors of his suit to the dull red and blue of Gator Lanes' bowling shoes, making his whole outfit look deliberately tacky.

"When I get back."

"I'll go with you!" Roman got to his feet. "I already know I'm gonna lose. What's one more drink?"

"That's the spirit!" Remus said.

"Ha," said Patton, "I get it."

They turned to go, Roman bumping Virgil with his hip to prompt him forward. "So you and Logan, huh?" he said once they were out of earshot. "How's that going?"

"Fine," Virgil said, feeling the blush crawl onto his face. It was a short walk to the bar, but it suddenly seemed like miles and miles.

"You sure keep things close to your chest, don't you? Didn't say a word to me." Roman crossed his arms and looked sideways at him.

"I didn't think I had a chance!" Virgil exclaimed. "Wait. Did he say something to you?"

Roman winked at him, shushed him, and bellied up to the bar so he could order. Virgil hung back, one hand on his wallet, but Roman waved a hand. "Janus has a tab going," he said, turning back to Virgil.

"Does Janus know he has a tab going?" Virgil asked.

"Uh, yeah, it's not like I stole his card."

"It's not you I'm worried about," Virgil said, thinking of Remus and the moth pin.

"Ugh, you worry too much."

"This shouldn't be news to you, Roman, I have 'Worry Too Much' Disorder." Virgil flicked at his zipper pull. "Wait, so did Logan say anything to you?"

Roman smiled, even laughed a little. "Uh, yeah, he practically asked me and Patton for permission to ask you out. He made us promise not to tell you. Honestly, it was kinda cute how nervous he was."

"Nervous?" Virgil repeated. It was obvious now, but it hadn't occurred to him that Logan had lost just as much sleep over Virgil as Virgil had over him.

A harried-looking bartender popped up behind Roman, slid their drinks over, and vanished again practically before Virgil could force out a 'thank you.' Roman passed him his vodka Red Bull. "Let's go."

"Alright." Virgil sighed. It was probably better not to try to wring the details out of Roman, especially since he'd said that Logan had told him not to tell.

They reached their lane and he scooted in next to Logan, snuggling up a lot closer than was necessary, especially given that Patton was currently up to bowl. "Welcome back," Logan said.

Virgil set his drink on the table and began to change his shoes over. "Having fun yet?" he asked Janus. He was still a little resentful that Remus and Janus didn't think he could be mean anymore. Just because he didn't want to shit-talk Patton behind his back. Sure, Remus had been the one to say it, but Virgil had no doubt the sentiment originated with Janus.

"Sure, I guess there's a sort of primal thrill in hurling a 14-pound ball at a target," Janus said primly.

"10 pounds," Logan said.

Virgil bit down on his lip to hide his smile.

"I'm sorry?" Janus tilted his head.

Logan gestured at the bright yellow ball sitting in the ball return. "10 pounds, not 14." Patton's ball came back, followed shortly thereafter by Patton. "16 pounds," Logan said.

"Pat's strong," Virgil said, elbowing Patton as he sat down. Janus bit down on an ice cube. "By the way," said Virgil, feeling a spark of pure evil manifest inside himself. "Have you guys made cutting boards yet?" To Janus, he said, "It's kind of a tradition."

"I'd heard," Janus said, shooting him a covert dirty look.

Virgil smiled at him and turned to Patton. "Janus would rather die than say so, but I can tell he's excited."

"Oh, good!" Patton said. To Janus, he said "I was actually a little worried you wouldn't want to do it."

Virgil's killing strike was delayed slightly by Remus' reappearance and Roman's subsequent disappearance, and he knew he had to act quickly or Janus would wiggle out of it when Virgil was taking his turn. Remus finally sat and stopped crowing about his spare, which no one had witnessed. Virgil pounced. "Bienvenue is closed on Sundays, isn't it?" he said to Janus, as though the shop hadn't kept the same hours for years. "Maybe you guys could do it then."

"The weather should be clear, too," Logan chimed in. Virgil looked at him, trying to gauge if he had picked up on the game, but his face gave nothing away.

"Works for me!" Patton said. "I'm putting the finishing touches on a coffee table for somebody down south, but I can make time on Sunday."

"Great," said Janus with a plastic smile Virgil knew he usually reserved for difficult customers. The daggers in his eyes promised a thorough bitching-out later, but Virgil didn't even care. So he wasn't mean anymore, hm?

"All you," said Roman, tapping Virgil on the shoulder.

Virgil nodded and took a long swallow of his vodka Red Bull. It was stupid, but walking up to bowl always felt like walking out on stage. He knew full well none of his friends were paying attention and even if they were, their friendly teasing was nothing to worry about. They knew when to stop. But still, his heart quivered as he approached the lane. By sheer luck, he managed not to get a gutter ball, then turned and hovered awkwardly as he waited for his ball to come back.

Logan caught his eye and winked at him, not even pausing in his explanation of the physics of bowling. Virgil smiled back, and suddenly everything seemed that much lighter, that much more bearable. He really had to stop worrying so much.

#ik the aesthetic boards are reminiscent of mid 2000s livejournal fic covers but whatever it's camp and i like doing it #sanders sides #analogical #virgil sanders #spicywrites #spicywrites howl

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peaceoutofthepieces · 4 years

Text

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Sunday, 12:40

Song: Peter Manos - In My Head

Lucas is surprised his dad hasn’t come to tell him how pathetic he is yet. He supposes it isn’t necessary. Lucas is more than aware of it himself.

He’d dragged himself out to go to the bathroom and get breakfast and managed to avoid a run-in. Now he’s curled up in his bed with the covers pulled up to his neck, trying not to feel too sorry for himself.

It isn’t easy.

He’s tempted to call Kes, but he’d called him yesterday, and he doesn’t want to be so needy. He’s thought about messaging Isa, but he isn’t really sure what he would say. He’s sure they’re all busy anyway. Possibly even hanging out together. Without him. As is likely the new normal already.

Lucas had been so sure he’d found his new normal already, too, but nothing feels normal about his situation anymore. He feels more stupid than anything. He doesn’t know what he’s been thinking. He doesn’t know how he has managed to mess everything up so massively already.

Jens was offering him friendship, and of course Lucas went overboard with it. Of course he’s a fool.

He’s spent the weekend rewatching the vlogs. He’s already in that deep.

It goes against all his rules, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He can’t get any of it out of his head. He can’t stop feeling Jens’s hands on his hips, or his breath on his ear. He can’t stop remembering the pump of his heart when Jens has done nothing more than smile. He can’t stop imagining what Jens might have done, if Lucas hadn’t pulled away from their dance, if Lucas had made up for it when Jens pulled him down to sit in front of him by leaning right back against his chest. He can’t stop considering all the possibilities that have never been possible in the first place.

He can’t stop seeing Jens with her, looking entirely at home.

He’d avoided Instagram entirely yesterday, resisting the temptation to open Jens’s message or stalk his page or Jana’s for any possible torture. He hates how dramatic his heart is being. He knew not to expect anything, and he’d let himself get much too carried away anyway. Jens had just seemed so close and so possible. Now Lucas is realising the boy is probably even more like Kes than he thought.

Lucas is long over that, but there’s still a leftover sting regardless, even as he cringes at his own thoughts and thoughtless actions. It makes him feel worse, sometimes, now that the feelings have slipped away, to look back at it, but he can’t quite bring himself to regret it.

It’s given him plenty of time to come to terms with everything. With himself. He can’t exactly bring himself to regret something that taught him so much.

It just obviously hasn’t taught him enough.

It’s in moments like this where a little of that self-hate returns with full force, and he can’t help wishing that he was just normal. It wouldn’t feel like this, if he was just crushing on a girl who didn’t return his feelings.

He might have no proof to back this up, but he feels pretty sure of it all the same.

It would be fine, if he thought it wouldn’t mess anything up with Jens. He’s mostly angry with himself because of how much he’s already letting it affect him. He had run from the party without even saying goodbye, and he hasn’t responded to the message that Jens had so sweetly sent him afterwards. Or to the second message Jens had sent him yesterday, saying that he hoped Lucas got there safe and was having fun. He’d laughed at the irony of it. He doesn’t know how to explain to Jens that he’s completely miserable, and that he hadn’t gone anywhere in the first place.

He’s lying in his bed in Antwerp, and he’s giving in and clicking on Jens’s Instagram story.

It’s a video of him at the skatepark, flying up the ramp towards the camera, grinning as he jumps off his board and pushes the person away. The responding giggles sound like they come from Robbe. He looks as beautiful as ever, and Lucas wishes more than anything that he could join them. The pained twist of his heart isn’t entirely strong enough to make him want to stay away. It’s just an additional ache.

He escapes the app in a rush and opens Spotify, hoping to distract himself. His fingers twitch, tempted to draw, but there’s already a cramp in them. It was all he’d done yesterday. He’d needed to get his thoughts out, needed to put his emotions on paper, in something real, and endless sketches had poured out, inspired by the past few weeks. He’d sketched Sander first, stood in the art shop with his camera and his smirk. He’d sketched Luca, taking care with her curls and her glasses, one eye closed in a wink, adding extra details as he refused to pour out his mind’s main focus.

It still hadn’t stopped him from creating a dozen sketches of Jens, most only half-completed, the image lost midway as another one came to the forefront.

He needs a break from feeling like this, for a while. Before he remembers that he has to return to school tomorrow, where it will be unavoidable.

He doesn’t get very far, unable to make up his mind, before a notification pops up at the top of his screen and destroys any notion of forgetting his feelings.

Jens has messaged him again. Undeterred, it seems, by Lucas’s previous lack of response.

hey, you’re probably still busy but I was wondering what time you would be back? I’m at the skatepark with the boys, and we’ll probably be here until late, if you wanted to join for a while

Before Lucas can even take this in, another message appears.

you’re probably staying with your friends until the evening though, so don’t worry about it

Lucas blinks at the message with furrowed brows. At first his heart twists, thinking Jens has changed his mind and is politely telling him not to come after all. But the rushed manner in which it had been sent makes him doubt himself, and he rereads it again, searching for the purpose of it. The meaning behind it. Another thought comes to mind, but he can’t quite let himself entertain it. That can’t be right.

There’s no way that Jens is nervous.

It sounds an awful lot like he might be, though, the more Lucas reads it over. He begins to feel a little bad. He hadn’t thought too much on what his distance might feel like to Jens. He hadn’t considered the idea that he’s being unfair. It isn’t Jens’s fault, that Lucas feels hurt. He couldn’t possibly know. Lucas hopes that he doesn’t know. To Jens, it probably feels like Lucas is ignoring him now that he’s with his friends in Utrecht. That he simply takes a back seat. Lucas is the terrible person for knowingly hurting him this way.

He can’t help but smile slightly, and then his hands are moving on their own, opening the message and typing a reply.

I’m already home

It appears as ‘seen’ almost instantly, and it takes just as little time for the typing bubble to appear.

you left early? is everything okay?

I never went

He watches the texting bubble appear and disappear a few times before quickly typing out another message.

came home to my dad waiting for me. he found my (very small) stash. wasn’t pleased.

The typing bubble doesn’t appear for long now.

shit

grounded? I was wondering why you hadn’t replied

Lucas hadn’t even realised that he was creating the perfect out for himself. It’s that simple. It probably makes sense, that his grounding would include a lack of phone privileges. It isn’t too extreme, especially if it includes the idea that he’d already gotten it back. He could let Jens believe that his father had dished out that mini, extra punishment. He won’t even be lying. Not really. He just won’t be mending Jens’s incorrect assumption. Skipping over a tiny detail.

yep. I am to remain in this house indefinitely

fuck

he couldn’t be convinced to let you out for even an hour?

Lucas blinks.

Could his father be convinced?

Can Lucas?

He doesn’t have to think about it too long.

let’s check

He locks his phone and slips out of bed, suddenly eager. Determined. Still, he’s slow and quiet as he opens his door, and he winces at the faint creak of the hinges. He tiptoes up the hallway towards the kitchen, running through what he should say, giving himself a bit of extra time. He needs to go into this with patience. He needs to stay resolute. His father will shut him down the instant he blows up, so he simply needs to keep his cool. Throw in some persuasion. It’ll be difficult, probably, but not impossible. Hopefully.

Only his father isn’t in the kitchen, or the adjoining sitting room. Lucas furrows his brows in confusion and moves back down the hallway. The bathroom is unlocked and empty, and his father’s door lies open, proving without any doubt that the room is unoccupied. He’s completely alone in the flat.

His heart thrums and his mind races in time with the quickening beat. He’s not the most passive person in the world, and he wouldn’t let himself be walked over, and he’s not a model citizen. This isn’t too far past his realm of disobedience.

His father is already beyond pissed, and while Lucas initially cringes at the thought, he shrugs it off.

Might as well go the extra mile.

He heads back to his room and pulls a sweater on over his t-shirt, a light pastel green Isa had once bought him. He snatches his denim jacket from the hook by the front door and swipes up his keys as he shrugs it on. He hesitates for half a second before returning to collect his skateboard from his room, and then he’s off.

I’m on my way

Jens’s response is instant.

fucking nice :D

Lucas’s lips quirk, and he shakes his head slightly, and feels unbearably fond. Jens is so easy. Everything he does is so easy. He’s a steadily burning flame, bright and warm and sure, and Lucas is another brainless moth. Drawn in and set alight.

He doesn’t even know how he’s managed to develop such a ridiculous crush so quickly. He just hopes he can get rid of it in the same manner. Maybe he should be giving himself more time, especially now that he has a genuine excuse. He could have stepped neatly away from Jens for a while with the excuse of his imprisonment and Jens would understand. Lucas knows he would. He knows that would be the best thing to do. It’s unfair to Jens and himself to indulge these feelings, the excitement and the urgency and the pleasure at the mere idea of seeing him.

But Lucas has been miserable the past few days, and it’s starting to make his head whir in much more dangerous directions. He just needs to appease it for a moment. He just needs to see Jens once and let his heart quiet.

He’ll be pleased, at this stage, to see any of them. It makes sense for him to want to join as many of these outings as he can. He’s just beginning to fit into this friend-group.

The skatepark is relatively full, as to be expected for a Sunday afternoon, but it takes Lucas no time to find them. His eyes seek out Jens automatically and he finds him easily where he’s now sat at the top of the half pipe, laughing at someone Lucas doesn’t bother looking at and occasionally glancing at his phone. Lucas has to pause for a second and gather himself, squashing down the mixed emotions that bubble up and plastering on a smile.

It’s only when he’s halfway towards him that he does a double take, catching sight of white-blonde hair. His smile slips into something more real, and some of his familiar bounce returns to his step as he heads towards them.

“Yo, Lucas!” The cheer comes unexpectedly from Moyo, and Lucas twists around until he can see him, jogging in the same direction to meet him as he finally stops next to Jens, kicking up his skateboard and catching the tip in his hand.

Jens smiles up at him, left eye squinting more than the right against the sun. He’s still wearing just a shirt and a deep red hoodie, but he looks soft and warm and pleased as Lucas sits down next to him. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Lucas returns, feeling uncharacteristically shy, nerves twisting in his chest. The party and the hours before it skim through his mind, and then the hours after and all of yesterday when he’d attempted to purge himself of all unwanted feelings, pushing this boy away in the process. He doesn’t deserve the easy friendship Jens has handed him. He’s taken advantage of such an innocent thing, and Jens has absolutely no idea. He wouldn’t look so fond if he did.

“You got grounded?” Moyo questions him as he swings up next to them, dropping down on Jens’s other side with furrowed brows.

Lucas shrugs, twisting his hands together in his lap. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“What? Why?”

Lucas twists around to look at Robbe, who has finally detached himself from his boyfriend long enough to notice Lucas’s presence and migrate over. Lucas catches Sander’s gaze over his shoulder and Sander brightens, slipping around Robbe to greet him. Lucas allows him to clasp their hands together with a grin, but ducks away when he moves to ruffle his hair.

“My little protégé. I was starting to think these idiots were never going to let me see you again.”

Lucas huffs, shaking his head as Sander simply drops down to sit cross-legged behind him. Robbe looks at Lucas and rolls his eyes fondly, and Lucas watches with a twist in his stomach as he sits down behind Sander, wrapping his limbs around him and letting him settle back against his chest. “You say that like I listen to them.”

Sander raises his brows at this, nodding approvingly, and this is when Jens makes a small noise in the back of his throat, strangled with confusion.

Lucas looks at him to see him glancing between him and Sander in deep concentration. “Have you already met?”

“Yeah, on Thursday at the art shop,” Sander says easily. “We had a very educational chat.”

Lucas snorts, thinking of the mini lesson Sander had given him on all his favourite dead, supposedly-gay artists as he led him around the store and then to an ice cream stand down the street, instantly winning Lucas’s heart. It may not have been the most educational experience, but it had been enough for Lucas to learn that Sander is someone he could get along with.

Jens swivels to look at Robbe. “You knew about this?”

Robbe hums. “Yeah?”

“Since when?”

“That night?”

Sander takes in Jens’s expression of utter betrayal and snorts, and Lucas can’t help but raise his own brow in amusement as Jens turns his pout towards him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lucas tilts his head. “Why was I supposed to?”

Jens struggles to form a response to that, pout deepening, and Lucas really wishes he’d stop doing things like that. He wishes he would stop treating them as if they are so close, the way Robbe and Sander are close, sharing everything automatically and having a sunk-in understanding. He wishes Jens would make it easier for Lucas to let go of this idea of something more between them.

Sander knocks his leg against Lucas’s arm to get his attention, and his expression is dramatically serious. “Jens just gets a little jealous,” he mock-whispers, loud enough even for Moyo to hear him and let out a snort.

Jens’s pout shifts into a scowl and he rolls his eyes, and Sander knocks a leg against him instead in some semblance of apology. He raises his brows at Lucas, however, in a silent ‘told you’.

“What, you don’t seriously think Sander is going to steal me away or something, do you?” Lucas can’t help but tease, raising his brows in interest.

Moyo butts in with a laugh of his own, gesturing at Sander and hitting Jens’s arm. “Sander is basically a part of the group anyway, man. Where would he go?”

“That’s not the point,” Jens mumbles, mostly under his breath. Before anyone can question him on it, he’s turning back to Lucas and asking, “How’d you get your dad to let you out, anyway?”

Lucas shrugs, smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t. He wasn’t there, so I just left.”

“Ahh, a little rebel,” Sander teases.

Robbe huffs a laugh. “A match made in heaven.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Jens protests, leaving Sander sticking his tongue out at him. His gaze turns concerned as he looks at Lucas. “Won’t that make it worse for you when you get back?”

Lucas isn’t sure it can get much worse, but he can say with certainty that this is the happiest he’s been this weekend. It’s bad. This familiar warmth flooding through his chest under Jens’s gaze. It would probably be best for him, to be locked up at home.

But he can’t bring himself to regret this, either.

He gives another shrug, allows himself to smile, allows himself to enjoy how easily Jens returns it when he says, “It’ll be worth it.”

#van der stoffels #vds #wtfock #skam nl #sink or swim #vds season fic #sos clip

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abruisedmuse · 4 years

Text

A late night in the library

Warning: NSFW CONTENT

Shortly after dinner that evening they parted ways. Cassian for a night out with his brothers and her to the library. She was close to finishing a book and he learned, albeit the hard way, not to disturb Nesta Archeron when the end of a book was in sight. It was best to leave her alone and when she finished, Nesta would come to their room. Undressing as she went into such vivid detail of the stories she read. Did he remember them all? No. Not a chance. She read through books as quickly as he could fly from Velaris to the Spring Court. Keeping up with all the stories was impossible, but he tried. For her, he tried and always will. Cassian knew her better than anyone. Though she made sarcastic quips about him not keeping up, Nesta appreciated the gesture. It meant more than words to her. That he would stay up and listen to her go on about what she loved and hated about each book. Tonight was unusual for her.

Upon entering their room he noticed she hadn't retired for the evening. He knew with only five chapters remaining she'd have finished hours ago. The room was dark and barren. No figure laid in bed waiting for him to curl his wings and arms around. The hour was late as Cassian turned away heading for where he knew she would be. At least he hoped. The general commander wouldn’t know what he would do if his mate wasn’t. Perhaps she had fallen asleep in her chair reading. It wouldn’t be the first time Cassian found Nesta fast asleep with a book in her lap.

He strode quietly into the library. Moonlight shining through the elongated windows illuminating the room, casting a soft glow. His feet drifted as if he was in a trance walking past all the books and shelves. Some thousands of centuries older than him and some younger than that of his mate. If Nesta was to be found where he left her, she would be in her favorite chair next to one of the large windows. The fabric was plush and smooth when you ran your palms over it. The color was a deep vermilion like the reddest of wines. In the light of the moon, the color appeared as dark as the inky night sky. Cassian glanced over towards the area. No one was there.

“Nes?” He called out moving slowly towards the chair. Hearing no response nervousness began seeping into his bones like a slow poison.

Cassian settled into the chair, it was still warm and her scent everywhere. Sitting into the enormous chair he realized why she liked it so much. It was as comfortable as their bed and he understood why he constantly found her here. With feet tucked under herself, head resting in the corner of the chair. Running his eyes over the small ornate side table sat a small candle still lit. Briefly, Cassian watched the fire dance wildly around its glass home before moving to the mug on its left. The mug he realized was earl grey and half gone. Wrapping his hands around the half-drunk tea, Cassian could still feel warmth in the porcelain. Behind the candle and the teacup laid a new stack of books. Cocking his head to the left he noticed there were new reads at the top. Books labeled, A Cruel High lord, Wickedness of a High Lord, The High Lady of Nothing. Relief replaced the growing nervousness knowing what occurred.

Nesta finished the book and started new ones. As his fears dispersed he could feel her presence in the library and knew she’d return soon. Foolishly he smirked picking up the first book A Cruel High lord. Leaning back into the chair like it truly was his bed welcoming him. Cassian opened the book to a random page. Hazel eyes briefly scanned the well-worn pages slightly frayed at the edges. Whether it was due to old age, various readers, or both, he couldn’t say. He found himself reading an excerpt about a mortal girl. Of her kissing a High Lord of the day court while she held a dagger to his throat. His mind drifted off to Nesta. Straddling his hips and doing the same. Preferably tied to a chair like this High Lord, Cardan Greenbriar. With a name like that he’d assumed the guy would be in a Spring court, not a Day.

“I thought I felt you near,” Nesta spoke up from the shadows as she stepped into the small alcove.

Cassian snapped the book shut looking up to her, “Hey to you too,” grinning while placing the book back on the stack.

Tucking her new book into the crook of her arm, placing a hand at her waist, “You’re in my seat. Move it.”

That grin on his strong features growing at her command. Folding his arms across his chest, Cassian crooned, “You know sweetheart. I don’t think I will.”

Nesta rolled her sea storm eyes sauntering over to him, “Fine,” if he wanted to play games so would she. What her mate didn’t know was she was already a step ahead.

Nesta's gossamer gown hugged her womanly curves so tightly it was like a second skin. He swallowed thickly as his darkened gaze trailed from her hips up to her breasts. The cut of her gown barely kept his favorite playthings in check. The way she smirked, Nesta knew it too. Mother damn him, he only wanted to bury his face in between those glorious mounds of tissue. like he was burying his head in the softest pillows. The mere thought of her breast in his mouth, made his cock twitch. Hell, the simple thought of Nesta did. Nesta moved with the utmost grace as her hips swayed with every movement approaching him like he was sitting atop a throne. Cassian, seeing her move before she made it, unfolded his arms resting them on the chair and welcoming Nesta into his waiting lap.

Her hair pulled into a tightly braided crown granting him full access to her neckline, “This is nice,” he murmured hotly against her ivory skin causing goose flesh to rise. Pressing a chaste kiss below her lobe, he wound his arms over hers pulling Nesta to his chest. Even his wings inched a little closer to her.

Nesta leaned into his touch with a soft hum, “And this is different. Is Nesta Archeron showing affection?” He teased reaching up to undo her perfect braid, watching with domesticated ease as her hair flowed out in soft waves from its confines. He adored the way her honey-colored tresses fell and framed her face.

“Prick.”

She could feel his fingers tenderly run along her arms in soothing strokes as his lips continued their endless exploration of her neck down to the decolletage of her midnight blue gown.

“Such language sweetheart.."

Gathering the fabric of her deep blue gossamer gown, Nesta twisted in his lap. In doing so broke the tender embrace they briefly shared. He didn’t mind it, in true Cassian fashion, he preferred her this way. The way her hair fell loosely around her face, dusting the tops of her generous breasts. How the blue-grey in Nesta’s eyes brimmed with both fury and passion at him, pink lips pursed out in agitation. His arms dropped one against the swell of his back. The other on her thigh slowly pulling the skirt up. Cauldron boil him; he wanted nothing more than to take her right now in this damned library. Ravish her against the shelves, the windows, in this very chair. The area didn’t matter. When Nesta looked like she would eat him alive, Cassian was irresistible to it, a moth to a flame. She pressed up against his chest like a cat looking for affection.

Bringing her lips mere inches from his own. Sharing breaths as she purred low and wanton, “Don’t like me so crass?” she teased, “Pity,” Nesta pulled away reaching for the book that was in her arms moments ago, Holding it by the binding she shook it in front of him, “And to think I had a gift for you?”

“Oh?”

Holding the book in her hands stretching her arms as high as she could, Nesta rolled her hips into him. Teasing her love in the best way, the wicked way. Cassian let out a feral groan feeling her clothed core against him hardening with every moment. She had him pinned where she wanted him. He wasn’t a fool, he knew the flirty games she played. Fisting a hand in her soft tresses pulling Nesta to his lips, Kissing with such intensity he was sure there’d be a bruise. Neither of them, he knew, didn’t care. The hand on her thigh quickly slid up her womanly shape, curling around her arm as he freed the book from her grasp.

“Too easy,” he laughed against Nesta’s mouth, flicking his tongue over her wet lips, “This apart of those books,” he nudges towards the stack.

“You tell me,” she breathed, “ I saw the book in your hands when I approached. You were reading it.”

He snorted, “Was not,” as he opened to the first page realizing his mate had as much as a filthy mind as he. Bless whatever smut books she reads that instilled this idea. Inside the cover was nothing but a pair of black lace underthings. Cassian looked down at the book to his mate repeating the gesture a few times.

Chewing her bottom lip Nesta waited for his reaction. Her heart pounding at his wordless response. She thought he would be interested. To have her here in this room she loved so much. When she felt him enter the library, Nesta thought it was a fun idea. Many of her books had couples give themselves to one another in forbidden places. All he could do was glance at her undergarment and back to her. She almost gave up. Readying to stand and find another room to sleep for the evening. Cassian closed the book with an audible snap. The sound echoing in the stillness of the library. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a small knife lifting it to their eyes copying his opposite fist holding her garments.

“These,” he said roughly gripping the black lace, “Are mine now,” shoving them in his pocket, “If you take them I’ll tear them off of you with my teeth.”

“Is that a challenge?” She questioned, brows raised.

He smirked hazel eyes burning with amused desire, “Try taking them and find out,” a devious glint shined in her eyes while Cassian pushed back her skirt revealing her uncovered core. A single-digit reached down into the apex of her thighs teasing her entrance with a lazy stroke eliciting a mewled moan from her, “you’re a wicked woman Nesta. I love you all the more for it,” he growled against her neck running his tongue from her jaw to collarbone while his finger rubbed over her increasingly slick folds. Pulling away Cassian held the knife in front of her handing it over by the hilt, “Yeah, I saw some of that book. If you’ve read it you know what I want you to do.”

Wrapping a hand over the hilt, Nesta took the simple knife. Cassian brought a second finger to her clit in slow ministrations, “What if mm...I.... cut you?”

Sliding his fingers into her heated index, curling upward stroking her velvet walls, “Fire of my life,” his voice thick with lust, “No better way for me to go than your mouth on mine and some part of me inside you. Even if you meant the kill.”

A wicked smirk that would make the most seductress jealous crossed her high fae features. Nesta did as her mate requested. Raising the blade to his throat while he continued pumping her. Nesta gripped his shoulder, nails digging through the fabric of Cassian's shirt as she rode his fingers. Keeping the steel blade steady Nesta leaned up, running her tongue along the seam of his mouth pushing through taking the access they both craved. Lips against lips as their teeth and tongues collided in a heated dance. He'd bite and pull her bottom lip and she returned the favor. The hand on his shoulder reached up for his wing, Nesta splayed her hand against the veins. Moving her palm in fluid motions of the warm, smooth wings, silky as her skin. Cassian groaned into her mouth at the touch, her lips vibrated to the sound. Cauldron this woman would destroy him.

Her hips writhed against his fingers as he repeatedly thrust them into her core. A thumb trailing over folds before pressing hard along her clit. A guttural moan escaped her lips mid-kiss just as her hand gripped the hilt of his blade tighter, pushing into the smoothness of his skin, but not breaking. The harder she panted the faster his fingers worked. Nesta’s fingers continued moving along the veins of his wings. Like she was trailing delicately over an aged map she’s used hundreds of times. By now he was painfully hard with the sinful touch of her digits over his wings, her cunt squeezing around him, the mewled moans, and her damn voluptuous breasts pressing against the solid muscle of his chest, begging for his touch, Cassian was utterly loss into a blissful world of Nesta.

“Cass,” she spoke out in low panted breaths just below the lobe of his ear.

“Nes,” he growled onto her skin.

“Give me more of you,” Nesta demanded

Pulling his fingers from within her, Cassian reached up grabbing a fistful of hair exposing Nesta's neck. Dragging his tongue from her collarbone up to her jawline tasting the sweetness of her skin. The opposite hand roaming over her body up to her breasts grasping so roughly Nesta gasped in surprise before glaring.

“That’s not nice,” he growled lower this time, more feral.

Nesta’s hand on his wing dropped to thick waves of his hair copying his movements. Manicured nails scraping against his scalp. Carefully she angled his neck to avoid cutting him with the d blades fine tip. The action causes Cassian to drop his hold on her tresses and fill them with her heavy breasts. Fingers digging into the soft tissue through the fabric of her gown as Nesta leaned over biting and sucking the nape of his neck.

A hand dragged from his inky black hair down and down until she reached the softness of his pajama bottoms, sliding down to grasp the treasure she sought. Nesta wrapped a warm palm around his shaft, working in slow strokes listening to Cassian’s groan and feeling his hips jerk under her weight. She’s always known how hot her body ran when she called the shots, but this she held all the control. The blade at his throat her opposite hand on his cock. The general commander was hers to command.

“Now,” Nesta tossed the blade to the ground as it fell with an audible clank, “You know I take what I want. She helped pull his pants down exposing his hardened member. A wicked grin pulled at her plump lips while running a thumb over the head. She switched hands sucking her thumb of his saltiness. Cassian had to resist all urges to not come at the moment. She looked every a bit a feral goddess. Blue-grey eyes brimming with lust, cheeks tinted pink, lips swollen and red, and her long hair fallen wildly around her face. Cauldron bless the high power who gave him Nesta as a mate. Who shared his depravity or in the least entertained it.

Nesta's entire body sang with a fiery, ache for him. Wasting no time, her knees braced tightly against his thighs in the large chair, she hiked her gown up positioning herself over him. In one swift motion, she slid her soaked core onto his length taking him to the hilt. She was tight and warm around his cock, her walls conforming perfectly to him, like a glove. They both groaned in unison becoming one.

Immediately Cassian stripped himself of his shirt. Discarding it to the ground. Nesta splayed her hands across the solid muscle, as she began to move. Slender Hips rocking against muscled ones. Cassian reached behind pulling down the zipper of her dress, loosening the fabric. Nesta quickly pulled her arms from the sleeves letting the gown fall to her belly. He filled his hands with the heaviness of her breasts. Squeezing and kneading the soft tissue, taking her pert nipples in between his thumb and forefinger. She could feel his nails digging into her tender flesh. Cassian took her breast in his warm mouth. His tongue trailing over her mounds then flicking over her nipples, as he sucked her breast. Hands winding their way into his thick, sweat riddled locks pulling him further to her chest. Cassian's opposite hand slid under the gossamer fabric gripping her ass cheek. Rocking her harder and faster over his cock as she rode him.

Nesta threw her head back, moaning louder with each thrust and each suck of his mouth on her. Her sounds of pleasure echoed through the stillness of the library. Nails raking down to his slick back feeling the ripple of muscle move beneath her touch. Cassian's wings brushed against her arms as if begging for his mates attention. She knew what that meant. By the wing touch, the ragged breaths, and the way her hips shook they were close. With a wet pop, he pulled off her breast. Firmly gripping her waist she knew what he needed. Nesta quickly pulled herself off him turning in his lap before settling down and taking him deep inside again.

This way she felt him inside her more as she bounced and rocked over his cock. Cassian's hand found themselves at her breasts. Using them to hold her tight against his bare chest while he pounded her from this new angle. Cassian loved the weight of her soft mounds as her breasts bounced wildly in his grasp. He fondled her chest with hasty roughness that had her crying out in mewled responses. She tossed her back, resting on his shoulders. The sound of skin slapping against skin and her breaths ragged and high pitched repeating a chorus of mmm, Cas, fuck, faster echoed in the heady air. With each quickened thrust he could feel himself hitting her core. He could feel her inner walls squeezing his cock tighter and tighter with each movement.

Nesta’s hips quaked as the heat from within pooled out from her belly spreading through her. By the erratic thrusts, she could tell Cassian was nearing. Her arm looped around his neck. He sucked and kissed at her neckline, throaty groans vibrating her ivory skin while continuously working her breasts.

"Wing," she rushed out.

With urgency, he enclosed his wings around them as Nesta reached it with her spare hand. Her digits working the veins of his wing. She knew just the right spots to make him spill inside her. Three more thrusts, her vision blurred when she cried out his name like he was her savior. Just as he growled into her flesh.

Nesta’s arms fell to the armchairs, resting her head to his shoulder. Cassian let go of Nesta’s breasts, pushing her sweat riddled hair from her face and kissing her cheek. His hands moved down to meet hers. Entwining their hands together. His thumb running soothing circles over the back of her hands while coming down from the high.

"Have I told you how amazing you are?" He questioned. His voice laced with exhaustion and tenderness.

"Every day. But please," she yawned loudly, "enlighten me."

"I will. In the morning when I'm fucking you again."

That earned his favorite thing to hear from her, laughter. From the cold, cruel nature everyone sees of Nesta. Her laughter would surprise them. Whenever that honeyed sound came through, he swore he fell more in love with her.

"You're ridiculous."

"For you. I'm ridiculous for you, Nesta," he paused and then reached for her breasts. Touching with care before bouncing them in his hands, "and these. I'm ridiculous about your fun bags."

She snorted, climbing off him, "Don't ever call my breasts fun bags again if you want to touch them," she slipped her arms back in her dress. Cassian stood pulling his pants up. He walked around to her back zippering the gown. He turned around walking to his shirt and knife picking both up. The knife he pocketed and the shirt he kept in his hand returning to Nesta.

"You're no fun," he said, lowering himself to the floor, Cassian lifted her gown. Wiping away their combined juices with his shirt.

She looked down at him fixing a pointed look. It only made Cassian grin like a damn fool, "Out of all the men in the world. Why in Cauldron did I fall in love with you?"

"Because you're irresistible to my charm?" she rolled her eyes, laughing that beautiful laugh again, "Come on. I'll carry you to bed."

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

a/n: Over the next week or so I am transferring my fics to tumblr. I kinda prefer the tumblr platform and I am on here more than ao3. So some of the fics I will be posting, yes you may have seen before, like this one.

Taglist: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @hizqueen4life @clockworkgraystairs @b00kworm @negativenesta @sjm-things @whataboutmyfries @justgiu12 @illyrian-bookworm @thesirenwashere @forbiddencorvidae @vanessa172003 @thewickedkings @sleeping-and-books @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @alittledribbledrabble @iminsanenotobsessed @figuredihadanodustollensofalife @df3ndyr @awkward-avocado-s @maastrash @knifewifejude

want to be on my taglist? let me know!

#nessian #nessian fic #nessian smut #Nesta archeron #cassian #Cassian x Nesta #fun in the library #wink #wing kink #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #tfota references #ao3 to tumblr #usernite #becca writes #a late night in the library

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staticscreenwriting · 4 years

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Casual moths - chapter ten

Find the other parts on my masterlist here.

If you liked this part and wanna help me out, please consider a reblog. Thank you.

Chapter ten - fights and families

There’s a sizzling in the air as Angel and Callie arrive at the Clubhouse. A crowd of people is gathered together, all clutching various different alcoholic drinks as the bass of some song vibrates through the night. A beautiful female voice sings some melodic Spanish lyrics, just a little too quickly for Callie to properly understand with her limit knowledge of the language.

It’s something she needs to work on, wants to work on, living in Santo Padro where the Mexican culture is so alive and vibrant. It’s something she wants Daisy to grow up with, especially now that Angel seems to become a more long-term fixture in their lives.

A strong smell of beer and sweat and cigarettes hit Callie’s nose and though technically it shouldn’t be a pleasant scent, something about it makes her feel almost nostalgic. It’s been a long time since she’s properly been to a party. The last must’ve been before she had been pregnant with Daisy. Looking back that all seemed like a whole lifetime ago. The girl then and the girl now are not the same. Maybe though, Callie thinks, she can allow those two to become one and let go and be young and in love for a night until she has to go back to mom duties again tomorrow.

Angel’s hand slips into the back pocket of her jeans, there’s something possessive about it, something territorial and though with everyone else Callie would’ve hated it, when Angel does it there’s a certain charm to it.

The next few minutes fly by in a blur. People get introduced, names thrown around and forgotten immediately. There are so many people and so many names and Callie tries to keep up but — there’s just so much one person can remember.

She’s met most of his brothers before, has grown quite fond of both Coco and Gilly and not just because they helped fix up the store. Those two might be a little crazy but their hearts hold the same warmth Angel’s does. And they are family to him. They’re as loyal as can be and Callie is eternally grateful that Angel gets to have these two in his life.

This life, the one Angel leads, is dangerous. Callie knew that the moment she first stepped foot onto the yard of the clubhouse. It’s risky and sometimes scary. But looking around the yard right now, taking in the smiles on people’s faces, the laughter and the cheers, the voices as they sing along to the music — out of tune but unbothered — it makes sense to her. It makes sense that Angel would choose this life, this family. It’s a community of people who need each other for life has dealt them shitty cards. It’s a home.

Callie had expected Angel to be a bit more distant towards her with his brothers around, she knows what men are like and honestly, she would’ve been okay with it. Angel though, he doesn’t do that shit. He has to be touching her in some way. Whether it’s an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her waist or a kiss placed softly on her head, he’s actively seeking out the physical affection and Callie relishes in it. Her man’s a soft one if she’s ever seen one.

The boys are laughing along to some silly story Coco recounts when Callie softly places a kiss on Angel’s cheek and steps op on her tippy-toes to level her lips with his ear.

“ I’m gonna go get another beer, you want something? “

Angel looks at her and there’s something in his eyes, so pure, so unfiltered, that it makes her heart beat faster. He looks at her the way every woman wants to be looked at. Like there’s nothing in this life and the next that will ever come close to her in his eyes. It’s magical almost.

“ Nah, still good here, “ he says and shakes his beer bottle that’s still half full, “ be quick though, I don’t wanna be alone. “

He’s not alone, this is a party with a shit ton of people. One couldn’t be alone here if you tried. But it’s not what he means and Callie knows, she understands. And quite honestly, Callie doesn’t want to be alone either.

“ Don’t worry, I’m a regular Speedy Gonzales. “

A genuine laugh falls from Angel’s lips, and Callie thinks that this might be one of her favorite sounds. Her grumpy goof of a boyfriend letting out a genuine laugh.

Before she can turn away from him, Angel captures her lips in another long and passionate kiss. There’s an abundance of PDA happening all around her and apparently Angel doesn’t mind if it’s them doing it either. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and warm summer nights.

With a tap on her ass Angel sends her off towards the clubhouse and Callie, though she doesn’t wanna admit it, finds a certain sense of pride once she catches a glimpse of the other women who regard her with a mix of jealousy and admiration for getting this kind of affection from Angel.

The clubhouse is stuffy and warm but there are way fewer people here and the summer air doesn’t cling to your skin as much as it does outside. The quiet is also a nice change for a moment.

EZ is leaned up against the bar, rag throws over his shoulder though Callie isn’t sure whether it’s actually being used or if it’s more for show purposes. To keep up the image of an actual, professional barkeeper.

“ Well hello ma’am, can I get you a drink? Turns out I can’t do Pina Coladas but I do mix a mean Long Island Iced-Tea. “

EZ Reyes has the best smile. There’s something boyish about him which is admirable given the things he’s gone through. Life should’ve made him bitter and to some extent, it probably as, but there’s still a sense of childlike wonder in him and Callie hope he never allows that spark to fade away.

“ Dude, I’m not that old yet! Stop calling me ma’am. Also sorry to disappoint but all I want is another beer.”

“ Thank god, my cocktails are pretty shit if I’m being honest. “ he laughs and grabs an ice-cold bottle of beer from the fridge behind him and pops the lid off before handing it over to Callie.

The chill of the glass feels good in her hand, lets her finally cool down a little.

“ You havin’ a good time? “ EZ asks and Callie is once again grateful for the Reyes family and their soft hearts.

“ Yeah, I am. It’s fun to see this part of Angel’s life. It’s not like anything I’ve ever been a part of but it’s — It’s nice. I can see why you both join. “

“ After the shitty drinks I served tonight I’m not so sure they’ll patch me in after all “ EZ jokes before opening a beer for himself.

“ Drinking on the job, man? And I was just about to offer putting in a good word for you with Angel. “

“ You got a good connection there? “ Ez plays along.

“ Mmh. I’d say so. Got a bit of leverage over that guy. “

“ Huh. And that’s entirely more than I need to know. “

Their shared laughter fills the room and for a moment Callie feels young again and weightless and like she belongs. Maybe she’s found more than just a boyfriend, maybe she’s found a whole nother family for herself and her kid.

EZ clears his troath and as Callie looks up, she can see a determined glint in his eyes. The same no-nonsense look she’s seen in Angel so many times.

“ I’m glad he has you. Angel, I mean. He’s uh — he’s my brother and I love him but I was so lost in my own head that I completely ignored whatever was going on with him and once I did notice he was in way too deep and his resentment for me and our dad and himself made it kinda hard to get through to him. I’m glad he has you. Whatever you did, he seems happy. And I haven’t seen Angel happy in a long time. “

Sometimes It’s nice to hear that you are needed just as much as you need. That you are wanted just as much as you want the other person. That you are appreciated as much as you appreciate.

“ I don’t do anything, really. He’s very easy to love. All I had to do is let myself love him. He’s wonderful and funny and his heart is too big for his own good. How could I not fall in love with him? Whatever I did for him, he did the same for me. He makes me happy too. “

“ I’m glad, “ EZ remarks and grants her a smile, “ he’s way less of an asshole since he met you. “

“ Nah, he’s still an asshole he just doesn’t have to pay to get laid anymore. “

“ Okay that’s enough, get outta here. I don’t wanna hear any of that. “

Callie’s laughter echoes through the bar as she turns to leave and just as she is about to step out into the night, her ears pick up on EZ’s chuckle as it mixes with hers.

Those Reyes boys are quite something else.

The girl is blond and tall and beautiful. Her hands skim softly along Angel’s arm, touching his skin gently. And then they don’t. Because Angel pushes her hands off of him. Not in a mean way, not violently or hurtful. But with a determination. With a clear warning. A definite messages that this isn’t happening. Not now and not anytime soon.

And Callie catches all of it, the entire exchange. The pushing off, the look the “ look I have a girlfriend now “. She knows that Angel probably knows more than one of these girls more intimately then she’d like but that’s also something she signed up for. He has a past and Callie would never expect of him to deny that or make him feel ashamed for it. It’s a past she doesn’t necessarily want to think about but one she doesn’t judge him for. To see him so openly call her his though, to a girl that so boldly offers him sexual favours, that makes her feel like a goddamn queen.

“ Hey, babe “ Angel greets her a smacks a sloppy kiss on her lips before pulling her back into his side.” My brother bother you? “

“ Nah we just talked a bit of smack on you. “

“ Aw man. Baby you’re supposed to be my hype girl here.”

“ I also told him about the great sex we have regularly so … “

“ Huh. Alright then. I accept that. “

Angel takes her face in between both his hands and places his lips on hers, eager and hard and passionate and just when his tongue slips into her mouth a slap on his back makes him pull away.

One of his brothers, one whos name Callie has forgotten by now, looks at Angel with a playful glint in his eyes and a smirk on his face. “ You up for a round in the ring.”

“ The ring? “ Callie questions before Angel nods his head towards the other end of the yard where a metal fence is set up in a more or less perfect circle in order to resemble what Callie can only describe as a DIY boxing cage like the ones on UFC fights.

“ Uh — “ Angel says, eyes wandering back towards Callie. There’s a question in them and though Angel will never openly admit it to anyone, not even himself, he’s asking for permission.

Does she really want to see her boyfriend throwing punches? Not really. But it’s clear to her that Angel wants to do it, and he’s an adult man. If he finds joy in fighting, who is she to deny him that?

“ Make sure you win this fight, baby. “

“ For you, always. “

With another kiss on Callie’s lips, he follows the other man towards the cage as a crowd gathers by the fence. There’s hollering and hooting, cheers and whistles.

Callie steps up to the cage next to Leticia. The girl has a perpetual scowl playing on her face though even she seems to be a little excited by tonight’s happenings.

“ You think you man is gonna win this one? “

“ Sure hope so. “

The corners of Letti’s lips pull up into a lopsided smirk. “ From what I’ve seen he can hold himself pretty well. “

“ That’s reassuring. You good, Letti? “

Ever since her sister befriended the girl, there was something about her that made Callie wish she could just hold her and make sure she’s okay and gets the love and care she deserves. Maybe it was the mother in her speaking but Letti always seemed so lost it broke her heart sometimes.

Though tonight there’s a different energy surrounding her. She seems — happier.

Letti’s eyes wander towards Coco as he laughs along with some of the other members and then back towards Callie. “ Yeah, I’m alright. “ And for the first time since she’s met the girl, Callie actually believes those words.

She shouldn’t be this turned on. Callie was never the type of girl who was overly charmed by men trying to show their physical strength by getting in fights. But god, Angel was hot. With his chest glistening with sweat and his arms raised in triumph. There’s a cut on his cheek and a bit of blood trickling from his nose but that’s about as bad is it ended for him. After pulling his opponent into a brotherly hug, complete with that part of the back thing men like to do, Angel scans the crowd for her. As he finds her, there’s a fire being lit behind his eyes. There’s adrenaline rushing through his veins and passion bubbling inside him. And when she smiles at him and motions her head towards the Clubhouse, Angel thinks he might have just died and gone to heaven.

He catches up with her on the steps leading inside and it takes all of his self control not to throw her over his shoulder and drag her inside. The way she smiles, how she fits in so perfectly with his club, his family. Whatever he did to deserve her, he’ll be forever grateful for it.

“ Look at you, champion. Good job. “ she greets him and smacks a long, passionate kiss on his lips. Warm and soft and tasting of beer and summer.

“ Told you I’d win for you, babe. “

“ Yeah alright Tyler Durden, let’s go get you cleaned up. “

“ Who? “

“ Doesn’t matter, come on. “ she says and throws him a wink before disappearing inside.

Angel’s hands are wandering all over her body, touching every inch of skin he can possibly reach. He’s always been appreciative of the female body but what he has with Callie, that’s a whole different story. She’s a masterpiece, a goddess.

They’re a mess of deep breaths and kisses as they slowly come down from their high and relish in post orgasmic bliss together. Callie can’t remember the last time she’s been this free and reckless. Having sex in a tiny bathroom at a party with people just outside of the door, that was not something she’d usually do. Not since high school at least. Angel makes her feel so many things but above all he make her feel alive and in love.

As he pulls out of her and they both pull their pants back up, Angel leaves hot kisses up and down her neck and whispers sweet nothing into her ear. He’s so very gentle, so insanely loving. How anyone could ever not love him back, it just won’t make any sense to Callie.

“ Angel? “

“ Hmm…”

“ I — “ she hesitates “ — thank you. “

“ For the sex? “

“ No, you dork. For being you and for — for making me happy. “

Angel looks deep into her eyes then kisses her once. twice. three times.

“ Ditto. “

“ You up for a round two ? “

Angel doesn’t reply just throws her over his shoulder and marches out of the bathroom and the clubhouse and straight towards his car.

Callie is giddy as she stands next to Angel on the front porch of her mother’s house. Her hand sits tightly in Angel’s as the morning sun shines brightly over Santo Padre. It’s a gorgeous day, all blue skies and sunshine and Callie can’t wait to enjoy the day with her man and her daughter.

“ Know it makes me sound like a sissy, but I missed the kid. “ Angel confesses and places a kiss on Callie’s head. It makes her heart soar with joy.

“ Yeah me too. It was nice getting a kid free night but I missed her too. “

Her mother swings open the door and greets them with a bright smile. One of those reserved specifically for mothers. Angel knows for sure, one of those smiles has also belonged to his mother. The ones that make you feel warm and comfortable and safe and — like you’re home.

“ Bacon and eggs are just about done, common in you two. Daisy is still asleep but I was about to wake her up. “

Angel follows the two women into the kitchen, the walls a calming light blue, the farmhouse style kitchen white and weathered. This house has seen a lot, has heard stories and secrets. Memories have been made here and Angel can’t wait to hear about all of them.

“ You go sit down, I'll go get her. I need to get some cuddles in when she’s still sleepy.” Callie says, voice radiating with love for her child, before disappearing upstairs.

“ Did you guys have a good night out? “ Callie’s mother asks while tending to the bacon sizzling in the pan.

“ It was pretty fun, missed the kid though. “

“ I can imagine. I’m glad Callie agreed to go though. She needs to take some time for herself every one in a while. She can be a mother and a woman all at the same time. “

“ You’re right about that. I’m glad she came too. She gets along real well with my friends. “

Talking to Callie’s mom feels easy, as if they’d known each other for years and even though Angel is still nervous, the way she smiles and the soft lilt of her voice make him feel as comfortable as possible in a situation like this.

“ Callie’s good with people. She has a certain kind of magic about her.”

Angel is about to agree with that statement when a sound echoes through the house that makes the blood freeze inside his veins and sends terrifying shivers down his spine.

“ Mom, where’s Daisy? Where’s my daughter ? “

#angel reyes imagine #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagine #mayans fanfic #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic #casualmothsstory

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barkkletshunt · 4 years

Text

A Moth and His Lady Part Three

Oh dang this is becoming an actual fic and not a short little thing I intended. This chapter is less Felix X Mari and more backstory, Chat Noir reveal, and how Felix joins the heroes.

Also if you want to be added to a tag list just let me know!

Part one

Part two

Part four

Felix stared at Plagg. Plagg stared back. Felix set his mug on the counter where the Kwamii was currently hunkered over a piece of cheese. This creature was in his house, sitting like some sort of Goblin, eating the cheese his cousin forgotten to bring upstairs to his room.

“I am dreaming.” Felix stated out loud. “I must have dozed off at my desk. How silly of me.” “Uh, yes. This is a dream. No need to tell Adrien about some silly dream you’re having, right?” “No, not at all.” Felix turned to exit the room. “I guess if this is a dream I can relax a bit and have a glass of wine." "You know how to relax? I mean yes! Good idea! Drink!" "Since I'm grabbing the wine did you want some aged brie that I have? Since this is a dream and all. I keep it hidden since Adrien keeps eating all the good cheese." "I suppose I could be swayed to stay a bit longer." Felix couldn't believe it. Chat Noir's Kwamii was in his house. In the house he shared with Adrien. The Kwamii was Adriens. He didn't want to believe it, but there was no other explanation. He needed answers. He went into the fridge and grabbed his wine and cheese before sitting down at the island with the creature. "So dream creature, I hope it won't offend you but I am a lightweight. I'm not sure if that translates into dreams or not, but I felt like I should warn you." The more he pressed that he wouldn't remember this in the morning the more the Kwamii would feel at ease. Although he doubted the creature was too bright to start with. "Well drink up! Pour a cap full for me too while you're at it!" Three cups of wine later and the creature hadn't said anything. No hints of Adrien. Felix was feeling the wine course through his bloodstream. "I want to see Adrien!" Felix jumped from his stool, intent on seeing his cousin. He knew it was foolish but he wanted this nonsense over with. Alcohol made him impatient and he had waited enough. "But it's late and he's probably sleeping!" "But I'm dreaming so it's not like I'm actually waking him up! I just need to tell him things!" Felix marched up the stairs to Adriens bedroom. The Kwamii flew through the door as Felix turned the knob. "Felix?" Adrien was sitting at his desk, reading another history textbook. The man had taken up history after high school, slowly getting away from the model scene. Felix was proud of him. "Adrien, I have a present for you!" Felix marched over to his cousin, grabbing a chair on his way over so he had a place to sit. "Felix are you drunk?" Adrien asked. "He is drunk and dreaming! He is definitely asleep right now so he will not remember anything!" Plagg yelled out from beside Adrien. "So that's what you were talking about." Adrien sighed. "Okay Felix, what is this present?" Felix rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a single silver ring. The one that matched his. The Graham De Vanily twin rings. "I stole this from your dad the day he got arrested. It was your mom's. I mean, it was hers yeah but it was also our grandmother's. It has been passed down to each Graham De Vanily twin set. Even though we aren't technically brothers I see you as one and you're my twin and I thought you'd also want your mother's ring." Adrien stared at Felix. His cousin might have been smashed with red wine stains on his tie, but that was the kindest thing that had ever come out of his mouth. "Felix," Adrien took the ring. It was his mother's, Felix wasn't lying. "I love you, not like I love Marinette, but I love you." "Felix I'm Chat Noir. I can't keep hiding this from you. I've been a hero since I was fourteen. When you moved in here after your mother died and we became close it began eating at me that I couldn't tell you. You were there for me and I was lying to you and I hated it." Adrien's words broke through the mental dam he had built. He was no longer able to keep it back. "And when my father was revealed to be Hawkmoth I thought I couldn't trust anyone but you were there and I know you won't remember this tomorrow but you mean so much to me." "I'll always be there for you Adrien." Felix put his hand in his cousin's shoulder. "We're family. Superheroes or not." Adrien helped his cousin to his room after that, insisting that if he didn't he'd wake up sick. "Thank you Adrien." "Sweet dreams, Feli."

Felix woke up tired. His body dragged with him wherever he went, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He didn't feel sick, just tired. Adrien tried telling him to go back to bed but Felix just swatted at him. He had things to do. He needed to revamp Master Moths public opinion. He couldn't fight the heroes anymore knowing one of them was his cousin, so he had to change. For good. His goal for becoming a hero was to bring back his family, but Adrien was his family. He wasn't going to risk losing him too. So it was time for Master Moth to work on his PR. "Nooroo, let's go over the skills of the miraculous again." Felix stated from his bed. "Yes master." The purple Kwamii chirped. "I told you, you don't need to call me that." Felix frowned. "Sorry Felix." The being sat on his chest. “It’s okay Nooroo.” He scratched the creatures head. “I’m not Hawkmoth, remember? We’re partners.” Nooroo nuzzled against him. “I know.” “So, let’s think of a game plan. As partners. I can’t have anyone thinking the butterfly miraculous is evil.” Felix sat up. “Let’s see, we have both passive and active powers. In or out of the suit I have heightened empathy, that is good. In suit I have telepathy, which will help immensely. We will be using that somehow. Then we can fly, transform people, and control them to an extent.” He hummed. “All very good things when you’re a villain, so this will be a bit harder than I thought.” “I know you’ll come up with something!” Nooroo cheered. The Kwamii turned to look out the window. “I think your chance will be sooner than you think. I’m sensing a lot of fear.” “A sentimonster?” Felix guessed. “I think so.” "That means Adrien is going." "If he is Chat Noir, then yes." Felix threw his legs over the side of his bed and got up. "Then I have to go, and do what I can to protect that reckless dumbass." "You really care about him, don't you?" "Don't make me sound soft, Nooooo. I'm supposed to be the stoic one." "You're softer than a cinnamon bun, Felix." "We will talk about how wrong you are at a later date. For now, Nooroo, wings rise!" It didn't take him long to get to the monster, which just aggravated him more. He wanted to check up on Marinette first, but the monster was headed directly to the bakery. Ladybug was helping the bakers out, but one was missing. Marinette. He landed beside the bug, looking around for the blue haired girl. "There should be another girl." "Master Moth?" Ladybug couldn't believe her eyes. Her surprise hit him like a proud of bricks. His empathic abilities spiking. "Let's sum this up quickly so we can get on with our day. I have switched sides. I no longer wish to take your miraculous. I fight alongside you and the chat until we can recover the peacock miraculous." He turned to her. "There is someone missing. A girl. Blue hair, blue eyes." "You know Marinette?" "I'm sure most of Paris knows her. How is that a surprise?" Felix groaned. "Yes I know her." "I already grabbed Marinette and put her somewhere safe. Don't worry." Ladybug seemed ready to yell at him, but the monster roared and brought her attention back to the matter at hand. "You say you want to help?" "I do." "Then be a distraction until Chat gets here." That was how Felix found himself flying around the monster, struggling not to get hit with each swing of its giant arm. The hero's of Paris watched from a rooftop, ladybug with her lucky charm ready and Chat Noir ready to grab Felix if he did anything wrong. "Moth! We won't be able to get close enough to use this until he stops moving!" Ladybug yelled. Felix cursed. He went to ladybug and grabbed her, pulling him into the air with him as he flitted around the beast. "Where on it do you need to go? I'll drop you off, Ms. Bug." "On his right hand." "You're sure about this?" "Positive." He tossed her into the air and dove down, the creatures right hand following him. He crashed to the ground and readies himself to go against the weight of the beast when Chat Noir appeared beside him. His baton ready to keep it from crushing them both. The Monster slammed it's fist down. Felix and Chat Noir kept it from crushing them, but they were struggling. Felix could feel his cane shaking under the weight. "Chat, get out of here. If either of us hand to get crushed I rather it be me." "Neither of us is getting crushed. M'lady would never fail us." The chats staff began to bend. That was Adrien. Adrien was willing to die alongside the villain who was making his life hell for the past few months for what? Honor? No. "You're the hero of Paris, don't be stupid." Felix kicked Chat Noir out of the path of the monsters fist. Chats staff couldn't take bending any farther and flung itself away, leaving Felix with only his cane. Metal, even magical metal, could only do so much. He couldn't let Adrien be crushed with him. His cane wouldn't be able to take much more either. He just hoped Marinette was safe. The Monster gave out a loud cry before crumbling around him. Once the dust cleared he could see Ladybug standing in front of him, hand outstretched for him to take. He took it and got up. "That was very brave." Ladybug said. "And stupid. You could have gotten hurt." Chat Noir nagged. "I stand by my decision. You could have gotten hurt too, and I'm sure everyone in Paris would prefer that I took the hit instead of both of us." Felix smiled at the cat. "Limit the casualties and you have a better chance of success." "That's now how being in a team works." Ladybug frowned. "Shows you how long it's been since I've been in a team." "Why did you want to take our miraculous in the first place?" Ladybug questioned. Felix knew the question was coming. Anyone would want to know. "I'm an orphan and I wanted my family back, but it turns out I have people in this world that I'm not willing to trade." Felix sighed. "My girlfriend and my brother are people irreplaceable. I'm not risking either one of them." "I get wanting your family back." Chat agreed. "But you caused a lot of trouble." "I will make it up if you give me a chance. I would rather be a hero in the eyes of those I care about than a villain."

#A Moth and his Lady #felix graham de vanily #Hawkmoth felix #Felinette #fanon felix #felix x marinette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #adrien agreste #mlb #part three

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graglithans-library · 4 years

Text

Welcome to Paris Fur-ance Ch 6: Panic, Rematches, and Comfort

I apologize for the delay. I have the organizational abilities of a newt, and my boss switched up my schedule thanks to Thanksgiving.

NOW ON TO THE STORY!

Ladybug rushed through the air towards where the explosions had been coming from, panic warring its way to making itself known in her eyes. She found it all too convenient that they had stopped so shortly after she’d left to find any comfort in the silence.

She had to figure out what had happened.

She had to know that everyone was okay.

She had to make sure Chat was okay.

Startled a bit by the last thought, Ladybug landed on a rooftop and started running. She didn’t have much time to ponder it, as her worry was somewhat abated by the very same hero leaping up from an alleyway and catching up to her. “Evening, My Lady. You seem to be in a bit of a rush.”

Ladybug scowled for a moment before sighing as she stopped her run. “Chat, now isn’t the time for jokes! There’s an Akuma still out-”

“About that.” Chat pulled out the launcher from behind his back and handed it over to Ladybug. “Friend Finder is currently tied to a light post. All that’s left is to purify the Akuma.”

Ladybug fumbled a bit as she was handed the launcher and blinked in confusion. “R-really?” She just looked between the device and her partner with a look of surprise.

A slightly hurt smile flashed across Chat’s face, but he shrugged it away before she could notice. “Well, My Lady, I did have some help.” Ladybug’s eyebrow rose as she looked at him. “Remember our tanuki friend? She helped me with distracting the Akuma long enough that I was able to subdue them.”

“Wait, did you say she helped you?” Ladybug frowned in thought as she put a hand to her chin. “Interesting.”

Chat looked back to where the fight had been with a frown himself. “I’m starting to wonder if they’re actually being affected by Hawk Moth at all. There’s no way he’d willingly let anyone go against him.”

“You’re right.” Ladybug pondered for a moment as she pulled out her yo-yo. “The wolf from earlier didn’t know who Hawk Moth was either...”

“Wait, you met him?” Chat looked surprised.

“More like he tackled me into a roof.” Ladybug grimaced as she started to twirl the launcher for a moment. “Now, let’s get this over with.” Ladybug took the launcher in both hands and brought it down on her knee. The launcher split in two with a crunch, pieces of hardened foam littering the ground.

And nothing coming out of it.

“It wasn’t the launcher!?” Chat reeled and looked back to where he’d come from with panic.

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder, and his attention snapped to the serious look on her face. “Chat, this isn’t the time to panic. We should head over to where you left Friend Finder to keep them from hurting anyone.” Both heroes rushed off towards where Friend Finder had been left, a sense of urgency bleeding into their movements.

An urgency that affected none more than it did Chat.

________________________________________________________________

Shirou had dealt with many situations across his long life. Terrorists, assassins, muggers, murderers; you name it, he’s probably fought it.

But this... was new.

“So you’re telling me, you’re all guarding someone who’s been possessed by dark magic, and waiting for these superheroes to show up to purify them, with absolutely no means of stopping them should they break free of the only bindings they have?” Shirou asked the four assembled teenagers with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

Michiru and Nazuna both looked a bit sheepish as they shared a glance, and the former started rubbing the back of her head. “Well, when you put it that way...”

Alya just looked confused until Kagami translated, in which confusion transitioned into being a little bit indignant. “Je ne vois pas quel est le problème.”

Shirou felt his eye twitch as he turned to her. “Le problème est qu'ils pourraient se libérer à tout moment et mettre votre vie en danger.”

Michiru’s eyes lit up as she gasped dramatically. “Oh my god, you speak French!?”

Shirou gave her a deadpan stare before sighing and pinching his muzzle again. “Michiru I’m over a thousand years old. Is it that surprising that I know more than one language?” Alya didn’t get a translation for that one, as Kagami’s eyes were about to fall out of her head. Well, as close as they could get with her.

So maybe a centimeter wider than usual.

As they kept talking, Friend Finder was messing with the bindings on their arms. It was as a feral grin started to spread across their face that their arms came free, and they reached a hand into their raggedy cloak and pulled out a blue sphere. Shirou’s ear twitched, and he quickly looked over to see the blue ball landing near his feet.

The explosion sent all five of them flying back. Michiru and Nazuna landed against the brick wall of the building behind them, while Kagami and Alya were sent down the sidewalk. Shirou, however, had been standing practically on top of the ball when it landed, and he was sent flying into the air, landing twenty meters away with a sickening thud.

Friend Finder just laughed and started to walk over to where Nazuna and Michiru were. They pulled out a spray can from behind their back and started making a glob of foam on the ground, before reaching in and pulling out a brand new launcher.

Michiru got ready to fight back but noticed something was off.

She stared into Friend Finder’s uncovered eye, and there was a shift. If only for a moment, burning red was replaced with a terrifying blue. The change even made Friend Finder flinch before they growled and gripped their head. A purple mask in the shape of a butterfly formed over their eyes before the blue changed back into red. “Fille stupides! Tu n’as pas ton mot à dire sur ce que je fais!” Friend Finder hastily shoved the spray can back under their cloak as they turned to the four stunned teenagers.

Alya hesitantly stepped back away from the Akuma, horror in her eyes. “L’akuma... se bat tout seul?”

Nazuna looked at Kagami, and the fencer shook her head. “I’m not sure what is happening.”

Michiru’s eyes moved past Friend Finder and landed on Shirou. His body had a small pool of blood starting to form around it, and she gulped. Come on, Shirou. Get up! The Akuma however, kept their advance, making the four girls back into the building behind them, back to the glass display. “We need to get out of here...”

A snarl from behind Friend Finder made Michiru and Nazuna perk up with a smile.

“Hey.” Shirou’s hand grabbed Friend Finder by the back of the head and lifted them off the ground. “Est-ce le mieux que vous puissiez faire?” Friend Finder kicked and struggled as they dangled in the air. Shirou reached behind them and pulled out the can of spray foam, before dropping the Akuma to the ground. The moment they landed, Shirou’s foot fell onto their back, and His free hand grabbed their arm as he pinned them to the ground. “Rester.”

Michiru’s eyes were filled with smug satisfaction, as was her smile. She leaned forward and got in Friend Finder’s face, relishing in their irritation. “I have no idea what he said, but you’re not going anywhere.”

That was when Friend Finder punched Michiru in the muzzle.

“OW!” Michiru flailed as Nazuna and Kagami grabbed onto her and started to pull the two apart. Alya ran over and stomped on the Akuma’s hand, making them yowl in pain. Michiru glared and scooted away from the villain. “Who does that!?” Friend Finder just snarled in response.

Shirou’s foot got just a touch heavier on the villain’s back, making them wince. “Essayez à nouveau quelque chose comme ça. Je te défie.” He looked to Michiru and frowned. “Are you alright?”

“The only part of me that’s hurt is my pride.” Michiru pouted and hissed a bit as she let go of her nose. A small trickle of blood started to trail down and dripped onto the sidewalk. “And maybe my nose.” Alya reached into her pocket and pulled out some tissues, handing them over. “Thank you.”

“Pas de problème.”

Nazuna frowned as she watched Michiru stuff a tissue up her nostril. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Michiru waved a hand and shot Nazuna a quick smile. “I’m fine! I’ve had worse than this.” Kagami noticed how Nazuna stiffened a bit but didn’t ask.

It wasn’t long after that they all noticed two more teenagers, this time in spandex, land nearby.

________________________________________________________________

Ladybug dropped from her swing and found that she had more surprised faces in stock than she’d known. She had been expecting that she’d have to figure out a way to save a possibly large number of hostages.

She wasn’t expecting the wolfman from earlier to be pinning the Akuma down with his foot. More so, she noticed how there was now a fox girl involved, as was both Kagami and Alya. All three of them were helping the tanuki- Michiru, get to her feet, and there were quickly reddening tissues sticking out of her nose. It just had to be Alya again. Why doesn’t she listen when I say this is going to get her hurt one of these days!?

Chat, equally surprised, looked over at her with a shrug. “Well, I think it’s safe to assume they’re not with Hawkmoth.”

She glanced over at Chat and nodded before the two walked over to where the wolfman was standing. He was still pinning the Akuma with his foot, glowering down at them. His turning to look at her made her stop for a moment before she steeled her nerves. “You never answered my question earlier. Who-?”

“Ladybug!” Alya practically teleported over to where they were, and Ladybug had to blink a bit to shake away the shock. “Where were you during the Akuma attack? Is there a reason you left Chat on his own earlier? Who are these new heroes? Is their appearance a side effect of using a Miraculous?” The last question sounded slightly nervous, but considering she’d been Rena Rouge, it was understandable.

Chat gently put his hand over her phone and pushed it down. “We’ll answer any questions you have after the akuma has been purified.” Blushing a bit, Alya backed away and stepped out of their way. It didn’t stop her eager eyes from locking onto the two the entire time.

The wolfman held up a can of spray foam that was off-colored, before tossing it to Ladybug. “I take it you were looking for this?”

Ladybug looked at the can in her hands with a hint of surprise, before glancing at the Akuma. “I was, but could you please remove your foot from them? Once the Akuma is purified, they’ll go back to normal, and I don’t want a civilian to be injured as a result.”

Lifting his foot off of their back, the wolf nodded before Ladybug handed the can to Chat, who used cataclysm on it. As the can fell into dust, a purple butterfly flew out. “No more evildoing for you, little Akuma.” With a flick of her yo-yo, the Akuma was captured and purified. “Bye Bye, little butterfly.”

A purple cloud of smoke washed over Friend Finder, making Michiru’s group jump slightly. The cloud widened until not one, but two people were left on the ground, rubbing their heads. Both Rose and Juleka were groaning and disoriented.

Rose gasped as she looked around and stared at her hands. “Was... Was I akumatized?”

Juleka put a hand on Rose’s, and when she looked over, the two hugged as Rose started to cry into Juleka’s shoulder.

Ladybug walked over and put a hand on Rose’s shoulder, making Rose look up to her. When she had both of their attention, she gave them a comforting smile. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“We... we were in class when the last Akuma alert had gone off. Everyone was getting worried when Marinette went missing, and... And Lila said something about how suspicious it was, and how she could be working with Hawkmoth.” Juleka’s grip tightened a bit around Rose. “I... I just can’t believe...”

Ladybug shook her head and helped the two stand. “I can guarantee to both of you, Marinette is not working for Hawkmoth.” At their shocked reaction, she continued. “One of the reasons it took me so long to get here was because I had to help Marinette hide somewhere far more reasonable than where she’d managed to squeeze herself.” Ladybug couldn’t tell what she hated more at that moment. How she had to lie or how she was getting better at it. Marinette getting stuck somewhere was something that Rose and Juleka would believe, considering it had happened before when she was ten.

Though she since made them swear never to tell a soul about the Haunted House Incident.

Rose hesitantly looked up from Juleka’s shoulder, “R-really?”

“Really.” Ladybug stepped back a bit and pulled out her yo-yo, before tossing it into the air. “MIRACULOUS LADYBUG!”

Michiru’s eyes widened at the sight of thousands of ladybugs flying through the air. Everywhere they passed, the damages caused by the fight were being repaired. When they passed over her face, she had to blink in surprise at the sudden lack of pain. Pulling the tissue out, she gasped and beamed at the fox. “Nazuna! Hana ga naotta!”

“Hontōni!?” The fox girl (Nazuna?) grabbed Michiru’s head and narrowed her eyes as she inspected for any injuries. “Sugoi...”

Turning away from the two, Ladybug went back to Rose and Juleka. “You two should head back to the school and let them know you’re okay. I’ll go and let Marinette know it’s safe.” As the two walked off, her earrings beeped, as did Chat’s ring.

The wolf raised an eyebrow at the two as they walked off, but his attention mainly fell on Michiru and Nazuna. “Daijōbu?” Nazuna looked over and gave him a nod, making a cute ‘un’ noise as she did.

Chat put a hand on his chest and groaned a bit.

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug lightly smacked him on the arm. “This isn’t an anime. You’re not going to have a cute fox girlfriend. Besides, don’t you already have one now?” As Chat sputtered, Ladybug walked over towards the group and frowned. “I’ll ask one more time. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

The wolf looked at her with a raised eyebrow before facing her. “So you don’t know how we were brought here.” He sighed a bit under his breath before shifting back into human form. “My name is Oogami Shirou. I believe that we have a lot to discuss.” Behind him, Nazuna and Michiru both shifted to human form, with Michiru complaining as she did.

Ladybug smiled until her earrings beeped again. “I would love to, but I’m unfortunately running out of time. Can I meet you tonight at the Eiffel Tower?”

Shirou examined her earrings for a moment before nodding. “Alright.”

With a nod in return, Ladybug spun her yo-yo, and Chat readied his staff. “Bug out!”

_______________________________________________________________

After they had all left, a gloved hand reached into the garbage and pulled out the bloody tissue. Strikingly red eyes scanned over the blood before a chuckle escaped the individual. “A roundabout way of getting what I needed, but I suppose this works.” The tissue was swiftly placed in a test tube and pocketed as they walked away. “Let’s hope the sample is large enough to make a usable dose.”

#Welcome to Paris Fur-ance #Chapter 6 #miraculous ladybug #brand new animal #BNA #SUSPENSE!

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