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phantoms-planet · 13 hours

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Barred Protection Chapter Five

This one is short, I am sick of writing in this chapter and just want to get to the next part so I'm saving us all a several months long writers block and posting it "unfinished" instead. It's also unedited. This chapter is the definition of Started Making It, Had a Breakdown, Bon Appetite. Hope it's enjoyable anyway.

No tw besides medical settings.

Ao3

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Tim didn’t like being used as a prop to get Bruce into Ameliorate, he didn’t like being poked and prodded for over an hour by Percy Daelus while Bruce sweet talked the man, and he most definitely didn’t like the results from the analysis that he had just finished on the medication he’d been prescribed.

Most of the contents made sense but there was one chemical that wasn’t like anything in their system. And they had a lot of chemicals in their system.

“Tim?” He flipped around to see Duke trotting to him. “We got the stuff you asked for.”

Tim took the bag he offered with a short nod before turning back to the table and riffling through it. When he realized there was an unknown ingredient, he asked Duke and Damian to get him different medicines and cure-alls from the company, any they could get their hands on. If this strange chemical was in one of them, it very well could have been in more.

He tried to ignore Duke hovering as he prepared the machine for another round. Damian had taken perch on a chair to the side. “Tt, are you certain there is an unknown-?”

“Yes.” Tim snapped. “I tested it six times.”

“Maybe the machine is wrong?” Duke sounded hesitant to suggest it. Tim stopped what he was doing to turn to him with an unimpressed, flat expression. “Or…you know, maybe not.”

---

Daelus listened carefully to the child’s heart, struggling to hear it past the labored breathing. Thankfully it seemed healthy. When he pulled away and slid the stethoscope back around his neck the young boy’s mother was watching him closely.

He offered her a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, the cold is minor. It’s nothing we can’t handle for sure.” The relief that washed over her face was more rewarding than anything else in the world. “I’ll have the nurse prepare your first dose, and then you can pick up the rest of the medication at the front pharmacy, alright?”

“Thank you.” The mother slumped back in her chair. He understood why she would be so scared for her baby. Not even a year old and the poor thing was sick as a dog.

He left the room as quietly as possible while flagging down his current nurse. Once she had been filled in Daelus made his way to his personal office.

Normally on clinic days he would spend the whole ten or so hours seeing as many patients as possible but today was a special case; he had another meeting with Bruce Wayne. After meeting Tim (who was remarkably healthy for missing a spleen, if quite sleep deprived) Mr. Wayne seemed much more comfortable with Daelus.

That in and of itself was a massive relief. With one of the world’s favorite billionaires on its side, Amiliorite could finally start stage three of operations. Moving global would be hard without support from a well-liked celebrity, and Daelus much preferred when things ran smoothly.

There wasn’t much time to clean up before one of his front desk workers opened the door. Daelus went to greet Bruce with a smile. One that didn’t get returned.

“I have concerns.”

Daelus furrowed his brows. “Is there an issue with Tim’s medicine? I was certain we’d prescribed-“

Bruce, normally jovial and frankly ditzy, was looking far more serious than Daelus was familiar with. “I had my scientists look at your medications. There’s something in them that they can’t identify.”

In giving Bruce permission to test the medications Daelus knew there was a chance that subject P’s tears could be isolated. He simply hadn’t thought it would happen. Inwardly he cursed himself for not expecting the Wayne Enterprises scientists to be able to figure it out.

“Oh that,” Daelus tried another smile. “That’s nothing to worry about. My people did rigorous testing to ensure-“

“What is it?”

“What is the substance?” Daelus asked.

“Yes.” Bruce said, tone sharp and cold.

“Ah, well we refer to it as Healosol.” He pronounced the word like ‘heal us all’, slow and deliberate, hoping the name would ease some of Bruce’s worries. “My scientists synthesized it themselves. It took years to develop and years more to test. We’ve ensured that it is entirely safe for human consumption. Not just safe, actually, but wholly beneficial!”

Unfortunately Bruce didn’t seem quite as comforted as Daelus had hoped. His coldness was replaced with a thoughtful edge that made him more than a little nervous. If Bruce vocally opposed the company, it would be disastrous.

It had taken most of his adult life to get the company up off the ground and especially in Gotham the process was nowhere near easy.

Dealus had forgone personal relationships to further Ameliorate. His physical health would be tanked if it weren’t for the medicines that he made for his own use. He slept in one of his offices practically every night, barely entering his own apartment. Everything he had was thrown into making it work. If it didn’t work-

Anxiety tangled through his ribcage. They had helped so many people in Gotham and the neighboring cities already but he didn’t want to stop there. How many people in the world were sick, dying, wallowing?

They could save so much more. Subject P was producing enough to help entire countries! But no one would want their aid if one of the most influential men in the world scorned their product.

Before he could calm the storm of frantic thoughts Dealus blurted out, “What if I gave you a tour of the synthesizing facility?”

His heart jack knifed but he couldn’t take the words back. That facility was where Subject P was held! If the tour went in the wrong area-

“I would like that. Would I be able to speak with your scientists?” Bruce’s demeanor had softened significantly, even with the tension still in his shoulders.

Mr. Wayne was known to take in young children in dire situations. With subject P’s chosen form he would pull at anyone’s hearts who didn’t understand what was happening.

“Of course! I’ll have them prepare material for you to look over. So long as it doesn’t get spread everywhere, of course. I trust you not to steal our company secrets.” The last sentence sounded more hesitant. Daelus nearly flinched. It was supposed to have sounded like a jest.

Bruce finally smiled again. “Of course not. But if what I see is good, I hope a partnership might be on the table?”

A partnership? With Wayne Enterprises?! All of Dealus’s anxieties washed away. With THE Wayne Enterprises on their side they could take the world by storm, faster than just having Bruce endorse the product himself.

“That would be fantastic, Mr. Wayne! Shall we have the tour this Saturday? I can arrange transportation for you.”

After getting all the details hashed out, Daelus led Bruce back to the front desk. A warm goodbye later and he was back in his office making a call.

“Sir?”

“Carter, we need to make preparations. Mr. Wayne will be touring Facility Zero on Saturday.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, sir?”

“Of course I am.” Daelus grabbed a pen from his cup and started clicking it open and closed. “Think about the doors this will open!”

“But if he finds the subject this whole thing is going to get shut down.”

Daelus knew he should feel concerned about that, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to worry when the chance of a lifetime was sitting right in his lap. “He won’t find it, and you are going to help make sure of that.”

A tired sigh came through the speaker. “Yes sir. What do you need me to do?”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #my writing #ao3 fanfic #dpxdc #barred protection

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chinzillas · 1 year

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💻SEMANTIC ERROR MONTH: week 1 - favorite character + favorite outfit(s) (insp)

#semantic error #semonth2023 #kdramaedit #kdramasource #thoresque #tonanons #userfra #tuserkinga #userjjessi #annagifs #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #i'm glad they didnt keep the piercing it would have been too much for me to handle #i'll be honest

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nofacednerd · 3 months

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So for my animation class we had to do a superhero of our choice doing a run/walk cycle and because I don't know how to be normal or calm down ever, I did this.

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #my adventures with superman #my art #I know the the middle bit is super janky I could not for the LIFE of me figure out how to make that turn look good

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

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Il Cuore Della Principessa Papa IV x Fem!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 1.7k tags/warning: thigh riding, daddy dom papa, kisses, cuddles, google translated italiano summary: overworked and exhausted, Papa insists you take a break.

ao3

“Sorella?” Bleary-eyed you look up and see Copia standing in front of you, hands clasped in front of him. The sight of him in his black suit with his meticulously painted papal paints makes you smile, albeit tiredly. You hum in response, stifling a yawn as you do. You’ve been in the library for hours now—what time was it? You glance at the large clock on the wall and notice it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Another glance out the large windows of the abbey library shows the darkened sky and you can hear the rain steadily pattering against the glass. There is barely anyone else in here. You’d only ducked out briefly for dinner and that had been hours ago.

You stretch your arms up, luxuriating in the feel of your poor cramped muscles getting a break from the hunched position you’d been cooped up in. You drop your arms and try to stifle another yawn, twiddling the pen in your hand.

“It’s time to rest, cara mia,” says Copia, coming around the large table and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“But I have to get this done for Sister Imperator,” you say with a sigh, eyes dropping down to look at the pages strewn before you. Why did you agree to help Sister with Papa Terzo’s taxes…a nightmare.

“You can do so tomorrow or the next day,” he says, taking the pen out of your unresisting grasp and throwing it on the table. “Pick up your things.”

“But Sister—”

Copia takes your chin gently, but firmly, between two gloved fingers to make you look up at him.

“I am your Papa, not Imperator, and I said pick up your things,” he repeats evenly. “Now, dolce.”

With a sigh, you grab all your documents, placing them back into the numerous folders. Really, you could have worked in Sister’s office. But it was so much calmer in the library—and there was so much more space. Also, you did not like all the prying questions she had about you and Copia. You know she meant well, but it was annoying…and also, you had no idea what your relationship was with the head of the church.

He effortlessly steers you out of the silent library and towards his papal chambers, taking the folders from your hands and carefully placing them on a nearby coffee table when you enter the room. The chill from the rain had permeated the old abbey, but it was currently being banished by the low fire crackling merrily in the fireplace. When he seats himself in the overly gilded, yet surprisingly comfortable, chaise lounge in front of the flickering flames he pats the space next to him. You follow, legs dragging with how tired you are to sit next to him. Immediately he pulls you into him so your head is in the crook of his neck and your legs tangled with his as you lie together on the lounge. The smell of chapel incense still clings to him from this morning's sermon, along with the heady mix of his cologne and that earthy yet undeniable scent that is so purely him. You bury yourself into him with a contented sigh, eyes closing as you relish in the feel of the warm fire and his arms around you.

“You’ve been working so hard, dolce,” he says, voice a gentle tease. “I’ve been lonely without you.”

Your eyes snap open at that and your hand fiddles with the fabric of his jacket as you listen to the steady beat of his heart underneath your cheek. You watch the flames flicker low in the grate for a moment before you speak.

“You’re Papa, you cannot be lonely,” you say, trying to not sound like a jealous child. But you are. You are certain he’s still managed to find someone else to warm his bed while you’ve been working overtime. You try to keep your voice casual, despite the way your words make your heart ache in your chest. “You can have any sibling you wish to keep you company.”

“I only have one principessa,” he says, the words rumbling against your cheek as he speaks.

He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead. It’s sweet. But it still makes your eyes prick as your chest is suddenly overwhelmed with feeling. You don’t want to share him. It doesn’t matter if he only calls you that, it still doesn’t stop the bitter feeling you have knowing he is still kissing others the way he kisses you. Or that he touches them with the same fingers that are now skating over your cheek.

“Mmm.” You keep fiddling with his suit jacket, fingers tracing over the embroidered grucifix.

“Principessa.” His voice is a gentle admonition. You ignore him, still letting your fingers worry the embroidery. He takes your hand away and forces you to lean back so his slightly unnerving gaze is upon yours and you quickly look down, unable to face it. “Principessa, look at me.”

Reluctantly you do and a gloved hand cups your cheek while staring defiantly at him, willing yourself not to cry. The smell of him and his hand on your face is overwhelming you, your chest aches as that unwavering gaze holds you.

“Just you, amore mio,” he says.

You try to look away again but his hand holds you firmly. “Copia, I—” The words fail you. You cannot speak as they catch in your throat. Yet you do not need words, the man knows you too well by now.

“Shh,” he murmurs, sitting up and pulling you towards him so you’re in his lap, legs straddling him and habit bunching around the tops of your thighs. “Papa has you.”

Your throat closes with the emotion and you suck in a sharp breath to steady yourself. He removes his gloves before you feel his large hands in your hair, soothing against your scalp. When he brings you closer, tucking your head under his chin you can’t help the few tears that fall. You’re so tired, and stressed—oh, you are happy to help Imperator, but it’s a lot of tedious work. The possibility that you do not have to share this man with anyone else is too much right now and the inviting pull of sinking into his embrace is too hard to ignore. All you want is to stay safe in his arms, letting the soothing motion of his hands stroking your hair lull you into a gentle reverie.

“Do you need Papa?” he asks, once more tilting your head up to look at him. He sighs at the sight of tears on your face and you press your lips together to stop the sob from escaping. When you give a quick but fervent nod, he wipes the tears from your cheeks. “No more tears, principessa.”

He leans his, lips capturing yours effortlessly. Despite the paint, you melt into it. Or perhaps you have simply grown too used to the paint, and the taste of it is merely a promise of pleasure to come. The hands in your hair move to hold your face as his tongue snakes into your mouth. Your own hands are pressed against his chest, the solid feeling of it is a steadying comfort as you are consumed by the urgent way you respond to his kiss. Your entire body is suddenly on fire for him, the melancholy starting to slink away back into the shadows as Papa nips at your bottom lip. A whimper manages to escape and you press your mouth against his with earnest, grinding into his lap in your desperation to be closer.

“Papa…” you whine.

The man nips at your lip again and you feel the gentle rumble of his low chuckle when you press yourself down against him again. It’s impossible to ignore the hardness pressing against you when he is wearing those tight trousers and you’re overcome with wanton desperation at the thought of him buried within you. Hastily you move to undo his jacket but he grabs your wrists with ease and you catch the smirk on his smudged lips.

“You have such little patience, principessa,” he teases, releasing your wrists and shifting you over so he can spread his legs. With you now straddling a single thigh, he pushes it up against your clothed sex. Your hands move to grip at his shoulders as it sends a wave of bliss rolling through you, leaving only a want for more in its wake. “You need to calm a little…relax, si? Go slow.”

You nod and he presses his thigh up against your pussy again making you moan. The friction feels far too good and you don’t need any more words from him to start rubbing yourself against his thigh. It’s solid beneath you and whenever he presses it up to meet you, causing your clit to throb at the added pressure your breath hitches.

“Good girl,” he says, hands moving to hold your waist. “You use Papa.”

Your movements get quicker as you feel your core tightening, the tendrils of bliss just within reach. You are sure you must be ruining his trousers, you can feel the sodden fabric of your knickers as you rub yourself against his thigh. It’s nowhere near as good as having his cock in you, or his fingers, but right now you are too keyed up to care. It’s friction, delicious friction, and the way Papa holds you in place has you keening. The tension snaps quickly when he presses his thigh against your clit and you come, the sweet relief making fresh tears prick at your eyes.

You ride it out against him, moaning as the pleasure ripples through you. Hands grip his suit jacket, creasing the fabric as you frantically hold onto him. A few moments pass as you come back to yourself, breaths evening out as Papa brushes a hand against your forehead before leaning in to plant a kiss.

“Does that feel better, la mia piccola principessa?” Another kiss is pressed against your forehead and you can’t help but smile. “Tell me.”

“Yes, Papa,” you breathe, sliding closer to him so you can tuck your head back under his chin.

“Sei l'unico per me, dolce.” Arms wrapping around you, he holds you close. “Just you, capisci? The only one for Papa.”

Amore mio - My love

La mia piccola principessa - My little princess

Sei l'unico per me, dolce - You’re the only one for me, dolce

Capisci? - You understand?

I have not proof read this and its like 12:30am but WOOH.

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #im fine #🥲🥲🥲#the band ghost fic #papa iv x female reader #papa iv x reader #fic: il cuore della principessa #im not sticking this on ao3 because i cannot be bothered and its kinda lame :))))#this isnt even that emotional but im Unwell so !#anyway dont perceive me thanks :)))#my-writing #update: less mentally unstable me added it to ao3 lmao

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bonimess · 5 months

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different version under the cut

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #kinda moment #was supposed to post it on Halloween #still like it though #persona 3 #persona 3 spoilers #kinda #p3 #p3p #pharos #my art #fanart

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emotionalshock · 1 year

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#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #art #lesbian #witch #hecate hardbroom #joy hecate hardbroom #tww #the worst witch #miss hardbroom #jill murphy #the time they were chilling by the beach #idk #digital art #raquel cassidy #it looks nothing like i wanted her to look like #welp #constance hardbroom

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spindrifters · 1 year

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night three: forward motion

for @hanukkahwolfstarweek

Sirius has a theory.

It’s a sound one, he thinks, only the path to proving it might not be worth it. Because the Remus Lupin of just a year ago probably would have taken one look at the dreidel Mary brought along with her to their flat tonight and said, “Yeah, I’ve got no clue what to do with that.” But the Remus Lupin of right now is, among so many other things, terrified of letting Harry down.

He knows that, and not just because they’ve talked about it. He’s terrified of the same thing.

It had seemed like a dream come true, finally hearing the news that they were getting custody of Harry. An enormous weight off his shoulders, and the all-consuming guilt whenever he thought about James and the fact that he was letting his brother down. The custody battle shouldn’t have been this hard. It shouldn't have lasted so long. He’s Harry’s godfather. He has more legal right to him than Dumbledore’s say-so, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot or no. Only questions had been raised regarding his living situation and the appropriateness of exposing a child to a known lycanthrope, and… well. None of that matters anymore. They got him in the end, after years of fighting.

But Harry Potter, at five years old, is still learning how to trust. It’s taken all of Sirius and Remus’ combined willpower to hold the other back from charging into Little Whinging and outright murdering the entire Dursley family. Those people took what had once been a mischievous, giggling, tiny menace of a toddler and spat back out a shadow of the boy he once was. Harry is still curious, and so very bright, and coming out of his shell more every day. But he doesn’t laugh the way a child should. He doesn’t speak unless spoken to, and even then his voice is so small it makes Sirius’ heart want to break. His bright green eyes scan the room constantly, as though expecting to be shouted at for just being there. Maybe worse.

Sirius recognizes the signs.

Harry was never supposed to grow up like that. He was supposed to grow up like James. He wasn't supposed to grow up like him.

Read the rest on AO3.

#hanukkah wolfstar week #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #marauders fic #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter #mary macdonald #my fic #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit

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marivenah · 1 year

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A Treasure To Keep

Pairing: Sam Drake x Paloma García (f!OC) Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: None

Summary: Young Sam pays his friend Paloma a late-night visit to look through the collection of artifacts stored in her family's house. Or so they thought.

A/N: Not beta read. It's been a while since I've written a full piece so this could be a little rough (and all over the place lol). Shoutout to muse by MisterWive. This song doesn't only catch the whole vibe of young Palo, but it also motivated me to finish this.

“Are you sure you know how to open a door?”

Third try. That one doesn’t fit either. “It’s not easy to see which one is the right one, especially when I have to hold the flashlight, too.”

“Give me the flashlight then.”

She stops fumbling with the keys and shines the flashlight directly into Sam’s face. He squints his eyes from the brightness.

“Are you sure you know how to hold a flashlight?”, she asks.

He snatches it out of her hand. At that moment a rumble sounds from behind the walls, though it’s hard to tell what direction it’s coming from. Paloma goes completely still while Sam scans the area with the flashlight.

“I don’t see anyone. Come on!”

She breathes out a shaky laugh, “Yeah, if you did, you’d be dead already.”

“Ha-ha”, Sam drags out both syllables, his tone slightly mocking.

Paloma’s eyes dart at him. They linger on him for a moment before her attention goes back to the keys in her hands. “I saw a gun in my dad’s desk when I got the keys.”

His silly grin drops, “Wait… for real now?”

The fifth key fits into the hole and unlocks the door with a click. “I got it.”

She frantically looks around to make sure they’re still alone and undetected. Then she grabs the boy’s sleeve and drags him inside.

With the use of both her hands, Paloma slowly closes the door, back turned to the room.

Even though he says it under his breath, she can still hear the ‘wow’ escaping his lips.

Paloma herself has never been in this room before. While she’s seen all of this before when it arrived at home, she was never allowed to examine it further. She understands her father’s worry, but it still hurts a little to know that he doesn’t trust her enough. But she isn’t in the mood to brood over it now. After all, she’s finally in here.

It’s filled with all kinds of different artefacts her father had found throughout their time in the USA. Endless parchment, old books, tiny figurines, gold coins, painted jars, statues, and a complete set of armour she can’t yet assign among many other things. Even the dust in here must be ancient.

It feels like opening a treasure chamber. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

“It’s cute”, Sam says as he looks around.

“Ah, nothing compared to your own collection, I take it?”

“Exactamente.”

She raises her eyebrows in fake surprise, teasing him, “Oh? How come I’ve never seen it before? Or even heard of it?”

“Top secret.” Sam doesn’t look at her and instead absentmindedly gazes around the room. His hands brush over anything he spots. At least he knows to be careful.

While he roams around, inspecting everything he can get his hands on, Paloma’s view follows him. The moonlight shimmering through the windows delicately rests on top of his head, coating the chestnut brown of his hair in shining white. The beam of the flashlight paints his face in faint yellow. The shadows cast on him highlight his facial features perfectly; the oval shape of his head and his seemingly perfect bone structure. She occasionally catches herself staring at his cheekbones for a little while too long whenever he isn’t paying attention. Sometimes even his handsome nose. And his pretty lips. If they actually feel as soft as they look?

When the realization hits, she bites her lips and averts her gaze, feeling her cheeks grow extremely hot. She grimaces at her own thoughts and swallows them together with the lump stuck in her throat.

Thanks to Sam’s fascination with everything else but her, he doesn’t seem to have noticed Paloma’s staring. He stops in front of a vitrine displaying a world map.

“You have all of this cool stuff just lying around here and you never cared to show me?”, he asks as he places his elbow on her shoulder, leaning onto her. His sudden touch sending her heart into a frenzy.

He doesn’t know the situation isn’t as simple as he thinks it is. She shrugs, “You never asked. Besides, you know my dad’s an archaeologist.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know he had his own personal collection.”

She furrows her brows, “This is no collection. All of this will find its way into museums at some point.”

He turns and shines the flashlight right into Paloma’s face. She squints her eyes at the sudden brightness. “Seriously?”

She yanks the flashlight out of Sam’s hand, turns it off, and puts it away. “Yes, what did you think he was going to do with all of this stuff?”

“Keep it”, he says matter-of-factly as if it’s the most logical answer.

“What for? This isn’t fancy decoration, Sam. This is history. And it deserves to be seen instead of catching dust.”

He grimaces, though she can’t tell whether he chuckles or scoffs, “Palo, have you never imagined what it would feel like? Going on a hunt for something so”, he flails his arms a little, trying to think of what to say, “special and priceless, most people don’t even know it exists. And then”, he draws closer and softly cups her face in both his hands, “holding it in your hands?”

Paloma must be looking like a deer caught in headlights with how big her eyes grow at the unforeseen gesture. Combined with the warmth of his hands, it shoots a tingle through her cheeks. Her pulse is racing. Looking into his deep brown eyes, even in this darkness, makes her stomach flutter. If he expected an actual answer to his question, she wouldn’t be able to give him one without her lips trembling.

Sam smiles as he continues, “When I’ll get my hands on treasure like this, I’m going to hold onto it. This feeling”, he stares into the distance, thoughts running wild in his mind, trying to find the right words, “it’s different.” His view jumps back to her, lips curling into a soft, barely there smile, “To have something that’s yours forever.”

Without the flashlight, the moonlight is allowed to roam around freely, illuminating the room better than the little device ever could.

“Never took you for a ‘forever’ type of guy”, she whispers. Her breath is shaking slightly. Hopefully, he doesn’t notice.

He gets even closer to her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

Paloma can barely form a coherent thought in her own mind. So, she lets the words escape her mouth as they come, without thinking them over. “Is that why you came here in the middle of the night? To tell me all your secrets?”

He hums, “Actually, I’m here to learn all bout your little secrets. Especially the dirty ones.”

“And I thought you came here to look at old artefacts.” It’s brief and very subtle, but she feels his thumb brush over her cheek.

The boy shrugs, “You caught me. All of this was an excuse to pay my best friend a late-night visit because she’s always complaining about how sad and lonely she is.”

She ignores the teasing remarks and emphasizes the first part instead, “Your friend?”

He removes his hands from her face and places them on her shoulder instead. “Last time I checked we were still friends. Unless you plan on ending our friendship.”

“I might consider it.” Sam tilts his head in confusion, though still playful in nature. “Because friends don’t look at each other like this.”

“What does that make us then?”, he asks with genuine curiosity. Does this boy really have no clue?

She takes the leap then. Her mouth dry as she opens it, “Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”

Sam drops the grin, and his mouth falls open, but no words follow. His eyes frantically move around her face before he avoids eye contact completely. He only manages to stammer incoherent words.

Paloma knits her eyebrows together and huffs out a laugh, “The great Samuel Morgan is at a loss for words?”

All of the emotions that were going through her, nervousness, excitement, worry and yearning are gone with the moment they just shared. As Paloma takes a step back, Sam removes his hands from her.

“No, I lost my train of thought for a moment there.” Still a little overwhelmed with emotion, he scratches the back of his head. “That’s a difference.”

The girl crosses her arms over her chest, then raises her eyebrows expectantly.

Yet again, Sam opens his mouth without finding the right words to say. He lifts his arms in a shrug. Admittedly, Paloma enjoys seeing him as this awkward and blundering mess. It’s cute.

“Are you… asking me what I think you’re asking me?”, he finally manages to ask.

“You’re not exactly the brightest bulb in the box”, she says bluntly.

“Hey, I’m just making sure I’m getting your signals right.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. In that same moment he takes her right hand, fully spins her around once and then pulls her close. Their bodies now pressed flush together. Her right arm and his left one outstretched, fingers intertwined. His other hand rests on the small of her back. Her heart should be racing, but the spark has yet to be reignited. His stupid smirk is back on his face, combined with his newfound confidence.

“So, Ms García”, while Sam is trying to lean in, Paloma is moving her head away from him, “you want us to share our first kiss together?”

She raises an eyebrow at the boy, “First? You’re telling me you’ve never kissed anyone before? You out of all people.”

His eyes scan her face for a moment and then his smile drops just as quickly as it formed, “Have you?”

She can’t help but snicker at his sudden panic. “No, but I’m also not as cocky and boastful as you are.” And she’s having none of it now. So, she pulls her hand away and pushes the boy off her. In hopes to get some distance between them, Paloma starts wandering around. To no avail.

“Really?”, Sam doesn’t allow her to get away. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her back, knocking the air out of her lungs. Now her back is pressed against his chest. He uses his free hand to pinch and prick her sides, knowing full well those are her weak spots. “I’m- cocky? And”, he snorts, “what was that? Boastful?”

“No, stop”, she says in between breathy laughs, “Do you want my parents to hear us?”

“Sorry, Paca but you did this to yourself.” His grip around her waist gets tighter. Paloma wiggles around, trying to escape his grasp. He’s surprisingly stronger than he looks.

“And you know what you are, peaches?”, he asks quietly, his whispers brushing against her ears. She scoffs at the nickname. “Cheeky, brazen and a little bit of a brat.”

She hums, thinking his description over, “The word you’re looking for is ‘bold’. Also, confident and independent.”

“Impudent.”

“Are you sure you’re not describing yourself right now?”, she asks quietly. The closer they get, the faster her heart is beating. It really shouldn’t make her nervous again, he just ruined the moment. But she’s being betrayed by her own body. The silence of the night isn’t very helpful in covering up the loud thuds in her chest.

“Nah, I only have great qualities. Charming, clever, courageous, kind of a daredevil, and — dare I say — quite handsome. Overall, a pretty amazing guy.”

Paloma raises an eyebrow, though she fails to keep herself from smiling.

“And judging by your actions, extremely irresistible”, he continues, followed by a smile and a quick brush of his nose over hers.

She rolls her eyes as she blows a raspberry. Then she manages to break free. The distance between the two is so small, yet the missing warmth of his embrace makes her feel bare. As if the cold glow of the moon on her skin could freeze her on the spot. How badly would she like to run back into his arms, but she has already made one step towards him. Now it’s Sam’s turn.

She crosses her arms and turns back around, a playful glint in her eyes, “I haven’t seen much of your courage as of yet.”

He looks her up and down. Then his brown eyes meet hers, gazes lingering for a moment. His lips jump into a lopsided grin before he cups her face with both of his hands. Sam pulls her closer until their noses touch.

“Can I?”, he whispers, barely audible.

Paloma slightly tilts her head and moves even closer, feeling his hot breath on her face. Within a heartbeat, he presses his lips onto hers. They’re soft and warm. The sensation is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, sending heat and tingles through her.

They break the kiss, staring into each other’s eyes. His thumb finds its way to her bottom lip, tenderly brushing over it, while his eyes keep jumping between her eyes and lips. Bright smiles grow on both of their faces, Paloma can feel a slight stain in her cheeks.

Sam pulls her back in, sealing their lips in another kiss. While he moves an arm to wrap around her waist, the girl moves her own to wrap them around his neck, pulling him even closer. Their kisses are slow and tender, yet sensual. She could feel his breath softly prickling her skin. Her knees getting weaker with every new touch.

A loud thud outside the room catches Paloma’s attention. The two of them stop what they’re doing as the girl whips her head in direction of the door. “Did you hear that?”

“I’m sure that was just —”, he gets interrupted by another sound. The closing of a door.

A cold shiver runs down Paloma’s spine as she clutches Sam’s arm tightly. Heavy steps getting louder as they approach. She looks at him with widened eyes. “That’s my dad”, she whispers.

Any sign of his previous cheerfulness washes off his face in an instant. The boy whips around and goes for the windows after spotting them.

“Wait, they’re locked”, she says as she grabs his arm to stop him.

“Now what?”

A click indicates the opening of the door. Paloma frantically pushes Sam away from her. With light steps he shuffles towards the door, hidden behind it while it’s opened. The girl herself doesn’t move, unsure of what to do.

“¿Paquita?”, her father asks as he steps into the room.

She freezes at the spot, putting on the biggest fake smile possible. “Buenas noches, papa.”

“¿Que haces aqui?” (What are you doing here?) He turns on the light. “En la oscuridad.” (All in the dark?)

“No —”, she stammers, never having been good at lying to her parents, “No puedo dormir, por eso vine aqui.” (I couldn’t sleep, so I came here.)

“Y vos sabes la razón por la cual yo te lo prohibí.” (You know why prohibited you from coming here.)

“Si, ya se, pero —” (I know, but)

“O sea, estuviste en mi oficina y te llevaste las llaves.” (Which also means you were in my office and took my keys.)

“No tenia la intención de quedarmelas.” (I didn’t plan on keeping them.)

“Paloma. ¿Que te anda pasando últimamente? Te vas todas las noches sin siquiera decir a dónde y termino yendo a buscarte a la comisaria porque te encontraron trepándote a edificios. ¿Y ahora esto?” (What is going on with you lately? You disappear almost every night without telling us, let alone where you’re going. Then I have to pick you up from the police station because you climbed up some buildings and now this.)

“Como te decía, no pensaba quedarme con tus llaves.” (Like I’ve said, I didn’t plan to keep your keys.) She ignores everything else he mentioned, in hopes to brush it aside.

“¿Y cómo explicas tu comportamiento?” (Care to explain your behaviour?)

Truth is, she has no good explanation without mentioning Sam. She choses to stay quiet instead.

“Ok, entonces hablo yo ahora claramente. Esto va a tener consecuencias para vos." (Alright, I will talk then. This will have consequences for you.)

“Hey, Mister García!”, Sam calls out. He appears from behind the door, an awkward smile plastered on his face.

Paloma’s father frowns at the boy’s presence. He looks at his daughter and then back at Sam. After scanning his face for a moment, he finally speaks, “Morgan.”

“Sam”, the boy says and holds out his hand, “We’ve met before.”

Paloma’s father looks at Sam’s outstretched hand for a second before he crosses his arms instead, making him look even bigger than he already did. “Yes, I remember. You’re Cassandra’s boy.”

At the mention of his mother, Sam’s smile vanishes. It’s not very obvious, but Paloma can see the faint crease on his forehead, almost like a twitch. His nods slightly, then shakes the thought out of his head. “Listen”, Sam lifts his head to be face to face with Paloma’s father, “uh, sir, this whole thing was my idea. I was pestering her for weeks to show me around. And she told me you’d never allow it, so I suggested this little plan of coming here at night. To break in and steal the keys.”

“I’m also the one she’s secretly meeting up with in the middle of the night. And”, he chuckles, “I’m also the one who drags her up buildings. There was this one night where someone spotted us and called the police. We couldn’t get away fast enough, so she took the blame to keep me out of trouble.” He stops his confession for a moment to look at Paloma. She frowns and he smiles at her, though his eyes tell the opposite. As if pleading for forgiveness. “So, that one’s on me, too.”

“¿Fue asi?”, (Is that true?) her father asks.

In a way it is. Usually, Sam’s the one who comes up with the silly plans. And Paloma knows full well how stupid they are, but she never thinks twice about them. She enjoys her time with Sam, and they manage to avoid trouble most of the time. Her police station visit was very unfortunate, but ultimately nothing more than a slap on the wrist for her. She didn’t want Sam to get in trouble with the orphanage.

However, tonight’s plan wasn’t exclusively his idea. Obviously, the boy doesn’t know which rooms her father keeps locked. Sam simply stated his interest in seeing the artefacts. Since Paloma hasn’t been allowed to be in here, she was curious, too. He didn’t even know she stole the keys.

“Si fue asi.”, (It is) Sam says.

Her father eyes him from head to toe. Then his view wanders to his daughter.

Even though it’s not easy, Paloma keeps the eye contact. She folds her arms over her chest. Then she tries to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. Her mouth slightly quivers as she opens it.

Sam steps in front of her. “Es mi culpa.” (It’s my fault.)

“She was in prison because of you”, her father says while taking a step closer towards Sam.

Paloma rushes to stand between them. Her father would never actually harm Sam, but this whole argument gets her agitated. “They let me go and told me not to do it again, that’s it. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?”, her father asks. His tone getting slightly angrier, though there’s also some surprise in it.

“I’ll make sure that never happens again”, Sam says eagerly. His hand gripping Paloma’s arm.

Her father laughs dryly, “Yes, because you are never going to see her again. Now leave before I’ll call the police.”

Paloma’s breath hitches, “Papa, please. He would’ve gotten into bigger trouble than me.” She hesitates, not sure how she’d be able to change his mind. She inhales sharply before she speaks again, “Yo quise acompañarlo porque el no tiene a nadie que lo ayude si llegara a tener algún problema.” (I wanted to be with him because he has no one to help him when he gets into trouble.)

After this, her father stays quiet. He examines her for a moment, before looking at Sam again. He and Sam’s mother had worked together back when she was still alive. That’s how the tow kids met in the first place.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Then he sighs, “You”, he points at Paloma, “go to your room. Now.” And you”, he points at Sam, “stay out of trouble from now on. I’ll keep an eye on you. If not”, he closes the distance between him and the boy, “be assured I’ll call the police on you.”

“Yes sir.”

“Let’s go then, boy”, her father says and leaves the room.

When he passes Paloma, he turns to look behind him. With no one in sight, Sam bends down to steal another kiss from her.

The two lovebirds hear Paloma’s father clear his throat and they stop immediately. He’s standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. He jerks his head towards the hallway.

This time he stays and waits for Sam to leave the room first. Paloma follows closely behind. Her father stretches out his hand and she gives him the keys.

She doesn’t get the chance to say goodbye to the boy as their ways already part in the hallway. This was enough trouble for one night, so she heads straight to her bedroom, her whole body still shaking.

Just as she slips into her bed, now in her pyjamas, she hears a knock on her window and spots Sam.

“What are you —”, her question gets broken off as he leans close to catch her lips in a kiss again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this”, he breathes against her lips.

“You’re crazy”, she whispers back.

He chuckles, “Crazy about you.”

She scoffs and playfully slaps him across the face.

“I’ve never seen you this sheepish before”, he says as he takes her hand into his. “It’s cute but it doesn’t suit you.”

Paloma frowns and tilts her head in confusion. “You shouldn’t have done that. You’re lucky you got away this easily.” After a few seconds of silence, she crosses her arms and pouts, “Idiot.”

“There”, he smiles, “that’s my girl.”

She feels her cheeks growing hotter by the second. She averts her gaze, letting her hair fall into her face. That creeping embarrassment gets washed away by the warm yet fluttery sensation coming from her stomach. She can’t help but to look back into his brown eyes again. “Get out of here before someone sees you, you silly duck.” Not even a bite on her tongue can keep her from smiling at the boy.

The feeling seems to be contagious. A smile spreads on Sam’s face following the little remark. “Sleep well, Paquita.” He winks at her.

She watches him climb back down and disappear in the distance.

Eventually, she melts into her bed, still in disbelief of what happened tonight.

#mywriting*#oc: paloma garcía #paloma x sam #x: where i want to stay #sorry for this extremely sloppy solution for the translations 🤡#it's almost 4 am and I just want to go to sleep lol #this feels like a rollercoaster idk what's going on here but yeah #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit

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orangesandblues · 1 year

Photo

wolfstar’s back on their bullshit

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #dunno how I feel about this style #looks a bit uncanny doesn’t it #but eh #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit

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blep-23 · 1 year

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Had a breakdown.

Now I’m thinking of what to eat.

Pizza or McDonald’s…

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #daily life of Blep #I guess #probs gonna nap and then write

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chinzillas · 1 year

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don’t be scared of what love is about

#my school president #my school president the series #thaidramaedit #annagifs #mjtag #tonanons #baek1nho #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit

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reveloser · 2 years

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i'll be that floating moon reflecting the light cause i was born to shine through your lonely nights

LOOK AT ME KAWAGUCHI YURINA (2022)

#yurina #kawaguchi yurina #gp999 #girls planet 999 #femaleidol #femaleidols #femaleidolsedit #ggnet #ggnetwork #kpop gg #started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #mine

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honeyynymphh · 1 year

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| The Mark of the Beast |

Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader rating: E chapter word count: 1.6k chapter 2 of 2 tags/warnings: dom copia, he's a dickhead, fingering, oral sex chapter one

An imposter has apparently been hiding in the abbey, and there is only one way to prove you're part of the congregation. And that is to submit yourself to an examination to find Lucifer's mark upon your body.

read on ao3

I watched him sweep out of the office without another glance in my direction. I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t sit here all night. Quickly I put my clothes back and on shaky legs left his office. I didn’t feel particularly hungry and so I just wandered over to the other side of the abbey to the dormitories. When I pushed through the door, Sister Rosaline was there lounging on her bed and reading some trashy magazine.

“So you’re not an imposter then,” she said, flicking a page as I walked in.

I scowled at her. I was not in the mood.

“No,” I snapped.

Rosaline tossed the magazine on the bed and sat up.

“No need to get your panties in a twist!” she said. “Where was it? Your mark.”

“On my…thigh,” I said, trying to keep calm. I was not telling her where it was exactly. “It was mortifying.”

She shrugged. “It’s just Imperator.”

“It wasn’t,” I said, sitting down on my bed and dropping my face into my hands.

“Huh?”

I scowled at her again. “She was called out! It was the Cardinal.”

“Copia?” asked Rosaline.

“Yes.”

“Ugh, he’s weird,” she said. “Oh well, you probably gave him the highlight of the week.” Rosaline snorted. “Heaven, probably the highlight of his year seeing a pretty girl in her underwear.”

I just made a non-committal noise. I wanted to tell her, but I also didn’t want to breathe a word. He hadn’t done anything, not really. How could I even admit to how easily he had worked me up? Rosaline would probably laugh at me.

“Brother Tristan reckons he used to be a eunuch,” continued Rosaline with another laugh, “and that’s why he doesn’t attend any of the orgies or accept anyone’s invitation.”

“I highly doubt it, Rosaline,” I said.

Maybe I should have just gone to dinner instead of coming here. I didn’t know what to do, I still felt on edge and Rosaline was still talking about Copia.

“Maybe his dick’s just really tiny,” she was saying. “Would explain his foul personality.” She sat there thoughtfully. “I did try to fuck him once, I thought it’d be funny. He told me to fuck off.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t really listening to her. I kept thinking about his mouth on my thigh and wondering what he would have done if I had been bold enough to move forward. Or if I had grabbed his head and brought his face fully against myself. Surely he would have said something cutting and rude to me as he did to Rosaline. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking about it, I shifted awkwardly on the bed.

“Shame it wasn’t Papa Terzo though,” said Rosaline with a dreamy sigh. “I was wearing my best lingerie today. Sister said it was unnecessarily pink and frilly. Tristan said Copia was so rude about his fucking boxershorts.” She laughed. “Though I would have made fun of Tristan for wearing Pokemon boxers too. Did he make fun of yours?”

“Oh, umm no?,” I muttered coming back to myself. “Did…did Tristan say anything about his mark being checked if it was real? Did Sister check yours?”

“With the unholy water?” asked Rosaline, grabbing her magazine back off the bed. “Yeah. It’s not like she was going to perform osculum obscenum.” She let out a short laugh as she flipped the magazine back open. “And Copia is certainly not going to—imagine!”

It was with a sort of sinking feeling in my stomach that I asked, “what is that?”

“Kiss of the Obscene,” said Rosaline with a wave of her hand. “You have to kiss the mark with obscene intent. It’s very old-fashioned. Not very modern says Sister.” Rosaline sighed dreamily. “I wouldn’t say no if it was Papa doing it though.”

I hummed distractedly in agreement, getting off my bed and wringing my hands together. Why had he done that? The bastard! Was it because I was new and wouldn’t know any better? I could understand why nobody liked him much, he was infuriating. Unholy water! He hadn't needed to touch me!

I barely heard Rosaline asking me where I was going as I stormed out of our room. The nerve of that man to do such a thing! I had been so nervous and he had done nothing to make me feel comfortable—he had gone out of his way to make me feel the opposite! Dinner must have ended as I passed a few siblings heading back to their rooms but mostly I hurried through the halls unheeded.

When I found myself standing at his office door, the righteous anger had somewhat faded away. What was I going to say? I should have thought about it more.

“Either come in or leave,” came his voice from the other side of the door.

Sucking in a breath, I entered and tried to shut the door with a bang. But it must have had some mechanic that made it close with a gentle click which just angered me even more. The Cardinal was standing at a bookshelf with a small book in hand. He snapped it closed when he saw me.

“Problem, Sister?” he said, a devious little smile tugging at the corner of his lips

“What you did to me was perverse!” I said hotly.

He moved towards me then until he was only about a foot away and I resisted the urge to take a step back. I was not going to let him intimidate me.

“Are you upset because I didn’t flick you with unholy water like everyone else,” he asked, “or because I didn’t flick my tongue over that needy cunt of yours?”

My whole body flushed and I dropped my gaze. So much for my defences. I shook my head and glared back up at him.

“Well?” he said.

“You deliberately made me uncomfortable,” I managed to say.

“Answer the question, dolce.”

“You did it on purpose!” I did not sound very controlled. But it was hard to remain calm with that smirking face looming in front of me.

“I did.” He moved even closer. “I didn’t know where your mark would be though, that was a delightful discovery. And how fun it was to watch you squirm.”

I couldn’t help but take another step back. I didn’t expect him to admit to it! My back hit the closed door with a thump. He had such a smug look on his face that it just irritated me even further.

“You’re perverse!”

He laughed. “Yes, you said that. And you’re only saying that because I didn’t touch you where you wanted me to.” He moved so close to me that I felt the edge of his cassock brush against me. “Tell me, Sister, is that pussy still wet?”

It was. I suddenly couldn’t open my mouth though, I was feeling too overwhelmed by him and every word indignant word I had wanted to say had faltered.

“Lift up your habit,” he commanded.

I blinked at him in surprise but my hands were already moving of their own accord, gripping the fabric and lifting it up as he dropped to his knees. My chest was pounding and my breath faltered when I felt his hands grip the side of my panties and pull them down to my ankles.

“Well, Sister, clearly I was wrong,” he said smoothly and I felt his hot breath against my thigh, making me shiver. A firm hand gripped my thigh. “You are definitely no pious little princess, eh?”

Like a snake he moved forward fast and licked along the inside of my thigh, tongue swiping across my mark again and making it burn. I couldn’t help but moan at the hot burst of it as it ignited every nerve in my body. It quickly turned into a string of whimpers when I felt his tongue flicking against my folds.

My hands flew out to grip his head, fingers finally getting to touch his hair. It was soft but I was barely paying attention, that nose of his was pressed against my swollen clit and he was tasting me like a starving man. The feel of his moustache tickled and it made my toes curl in my shoes. When I felt him slide a gloved finger inside me I nearly lost my balance, but his other hand held me tightly by my hip. Another finger joined the first and was stretching me as I panted above him. His fingers pumped out of my soaked cunt while his mouth latched onto my clit. Arousal was building within me and I had been so on edge that I was already so close. My fingers were tugging at his hair and there was no stopping me from grinding against his fingers and mouth.

I whined when his mouth left my clit but he was merely moving to suck on my mark again. The intense burn made me cry out but it only made the pleasure more intense. I could already feel my legs starting to buckle as the tension began to tighten and my walls were already starting to flutter around his fingers. Too quickly I was already over the edge, pleasure rolling over my body as I came hard. I could feel the sweat on my back and the way my habit was clinging to it in uncomfortable clumps but I didn’t care.

Looking down at him in a pleasured daze I could see his mouth was slick with my come, the paint smudged across his face as he smirked up at me. My breathing was still coming out in ragged breaths but I managed to slow it down enough to speak.

“Are you going to show me your mark, Cardinal?”

The man stood and I watched as he slowly removed the pellegrina before unbuttoning the many buttons of his cassock.

“Are you going to flick me with unholy water, dolce?” he asked

I shook my head. “I think you may be right and the old ways are better, Cardinal.”

He locked the door.

#started making it had a breakdown bon appetit #this is pretty bad sorry but I just wanted it done #it didnt work how i wanted at all 🙃#i would like to come to this idea another time #the band ghost fic #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x female reader #my-writing #ghost fanfiction #fanfic #fic: mark of the beast

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