#NOT MY DRAWING HAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! do not worry
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Manspreading [Ghost]
My blog is a 18+, minors be blocked regardless of what they interact with.
[Masterlist] || Requests are Open || GIF by hollow-epitaph
cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, unedited writing
At the best of times, Simon "Ghost" Riley is like an old cat; finicky and reclusive. In the moments he isn't, where he craves your touch and can't seem to stand an inch of air between you two, he crowds you. He has his hands resting on your waist, chin resting on your shoulder while he watches you type away on your keyboard.
"Y'work too much, love."
You pause your typing to kiss his cheek, nearly finished with what you were working on. You know he wants your full attention right now but these changes are due by tomorrow afternoon and if you finish now, you can spend the rest of the night and part of tomorrow giving him what he wants. His hands squeeze down on your hips, a kiss pressed to your clothed shoulder.
Simon could be patient. He's waited days before in the same sniper position to get off a shot. He would distract himself like he was now, pressing his nose against your neck, inhaling deeply. Kissing whatever his lips could reach, fingers squeezing as he pleased. You're concentration didn't suffer any as long as he behaved.. a relative term as far he was concerned.
His hand snuck up your shirt, and a quick hug was all he wanted. You let him until his hand crept up your ribs. You pushed his hand back down to your hip with a firm squeeze.
"C'mon. I was only givin' you a hug." He says, nuzzling the back of your neck.
"Your hand was going higher than necessary for a hug, Simon."
Your fingers tap away, focus narrowing on the screen. It doesn't take long for his hand to slide down the top of your thigh, slowly guiding your legs apart. He buries his face in your neck, pressing feather-like kisses so as to not disturb you. With both hands on your thighs, he squeezes them, groaning in your ear. You stiffen on his lap, fingers freezing over the keys. You can feel the thickening bulge under you and sigh, saving your changes to close out the edits.
Your palms push against the edge of your desk, sliding the shared chair back from it. His drags you back down when you attempt to stand from his lap, grinding up against you slightly.
"I'm not fucking you in my office chair again." You peel off his hands, standing again.
"That so?" He gruffs, the tone in his voice unsettles you.
He wraps his arms around your waist, dread spreading in your stomach. You try your best not to flail, worried you'll damage your computer, when he hauls you with him. He tosses you slightly and you're bent over his shoulder now as he trots to the bedroom. You scream when he throws you on the bed, bouncing on the plush mattress. Your eyes are wide as he rolls his neck, eyes narrowed on your jostled form.
It's not often he's rough with you. His fingers dig into the waistband of your bottoms, jerking them down your legs hastily. He pushes your legs apart, spreading you by your knees. He licks over the front of his teeth, tilting his head. You feel more like a small animal as his belt jingles.
Simon draws his cock out, spitting on his palm to pump along the hardening length. His other hand sinks into the bed next to your hip as he leans forward, tip swiping over your slick folds. He teases your entrance, pushing the tip inside, stretching you around the fat head. His hands shift once he's done teasing, gripping your hips; a warning of what's to come.
You arch up off the bed, choking on the air leaving your lungs, as his hips snap forward. "Simon!"
"I know, love. You're struggling to handle it like you always do." He laughs low and rough, drawing his hips backward.
Your legs cling to his waist, hands reaching for his shoulders, preparing for his next thrust. He plunges inside again, shifting to press his body weight on you while pistoning unforgivingly into your body. The bed creaks under his movements, your body jolting with each thrust he gave you. You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders, dragging them down his bicep.
His groan is deep, right up against your ear, "Body was made f'me. Be a good girl and fuckin' take it."
His arms dig between the mattress and your body, using it to drag you down to meet his hips. His face buried in your neck, the slick sounds of his cock plunging into you filling the room. The muscles in your stomach clench, his name starting to leave your throat hoarse from how loud you were being.
You can hear him encouraging you, complimenting how well you're able to handle him when he's like this. Sweat dampens the sheets underneath you, the air growing a little too hot, his guttural growls dragging you closer to the edge.
"Simon, please!" Your voice shaking as the intensity builds.
Simon's fingers dig into your skin, leaving an painful ache. "You gonna cum f'me? Gonna squeeze down on my cock so i can paint your insides?"
He grinds his cock into you, that fat head of his cock nudging the perfect spot inside you. Tension snaps in your body, a wave of bliss that's almost as painful as it is pleasurable hitting your cock-drunk brain.
His hips lose their rhythm until he stops thrusting all together, sinking deep into your warmth with a strangled groan of your name. You feel a bit more weight on top of your body, hot breath hitting your ear. It's several moments before he's able to unwrap himself from you, gently pushing your legs to unhook from his waist.
Simon rolls off, laying beside you with his breathing evening out slowly. He clears his throat, opening it to speak, "Bloody hell, we're going to get another noise complaint."
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon x reader#cod x reader#cod fanfic#simon ghost x you
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my love, my muse —kaveh
fandom: genshin
pairing: kaveh x reader!
a/n: i just realized i hadn’t written for kaveh, which is a crime against humanity. also kaveh x muse!reader brainrot sjzjjwjzjqjjajajajh (also switching formats, iiiiiii have no idea what im doing, can you tell)
— student!kaveh, who, even though loathed and respected his project partner to bits, would rather die than ever try to draw him for an assignment. “don’t even think about it,” he hisses, just as alhaitham quirks an unimpressed eyebrow. he understands that he has many friends and acquaintances that are willing to pose for him, but a small voice in the back of his head needles at him- telling him that no, we cannot create art with them as our muse. and to him, nothing is more important than making sure every single artwork he produces is with the utmost sincerity.
— student!kaveh, whose resolve crumbles bit after bit as the deadline creeps up, with no model to look for in sight, and is starting to think perhaps he should turn to his volunteering friends after all. he cannot compromise his diligence for his passion as a scholar, and so he heads to pupsa café, hoping to buy some coffee to prepare for his all-nighter that night.
—student!kaveh, who doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until he hears a cheery, unfamiliar voice bring it up- and he tilts his head up to find that he spilled all the coffee in his mouth onto his shirt (much to your alarm).
“you,” he gurgles, “you’re the muse i’ve been looking for!”
“excuse me?”
— perhaps he was a bit sleep-deprived, which explained his lack of inhibition, but student!kaveh latches onto you like a moth to a flame, stars swirling in his eyes. are you a student of the akademiya? which darshan are you from? which nation were you from to bless you with such beautiful eyes? could you be his muse? he asks them all, because he has to know.
— student!kaveh, who only later apologizes for his overbearing first-impression, while swearing up and down he wasn’t like that usually, and explaining his current predicament. perhaps you pitied him, or found him quite charming- whichever it was, you accepted his proposal to be his muse in exchange for some funds, much to his delight.
“thank you, thank you, oh, thank you! my assignment won’t be so lifeless after all!”
— student!kaveh, who arranges a time and place for you at his dorm with a sense of bravery he has absolutely no idea where he picked up from. when you come in with the most random set of outfit he’s ever seen, he chooses to hold back his tongue over your enthusiastic participation.
“sit tight!” he says, holding comically large canvas whose shadow swallowed up the whole room, “relax, and do whatever your heart tells you to do.”
— student!kaveh, who usually simply sketches things out of pure photographic memory, starts simple and structured for once. where would the chair go? where would you sit? would you look too stretched out if the table properties next to you weren’t matching? where should he exaggerate? how would the chandelier be hanging to get the perfect lighting? how would the painting behind you affect the composition?
— student!kaveh, who usually lets his hand dance on his canvas, plans everything out this time, and lets his mind flourish under the guidance of your radiant beauty. your soft smile, your relaxed posture, and your twinkling eyes lets him have fun- and he finds joy in drawing backgrounds, especially the furniture, for once- to emphasize the way you pose.
— student!kaveh, who drinks an ungodly amount of coffee every night and lets his sheer will do the rest, stops by in the kitchen to make you some snacks. he worries for you; “are you alright? is this posture tiring you? do you want water? i can get some for you. do you want some snacks, too? we can take a break. i don’t have much here, but i can always make a quick trip to the market.”
— student!kaveh, who finds joy in conversation with you while he works. you seem to harbor a decent amount of knowledge fitting for a scholar. if you talk about other subjects, kaveh’s more than willing to listen. if you enjoy studying architecture, that’s fine too! whatever the topic is, you both seem to have an endless stream of opinions and discussions to open up about, and watching your mouth run off on any particular topic brings him much satisfaction. it is always fascinating to understand another person deeply interested in a subject.
— student!kaveh, who starts to explore other color schemes in order to find the perfect one for you. your radiance is something that should be brought out and emphasized on his canvas, something future generations can look at and admire. maybe a bit of pink for the shadow? how about purple to shade your hair instead of gray? would yellow compliment your shoes? he thinks of them all, dabbling in this and that, until his palette blooms in different smears of colors.
— student!kaveh, who is willing to go on a rant to explain how you were the perfect muse, how your smile made his hand itch to draw it out, how your eyes crinkled and held the weight of your soul, how- oh. did he say muse? would you like to be? kaveh doesn’t mind in the slightest if you could continue to. in fact, how about he treats you to a nice meal tonight? the sun is setting, anyway, and it’ll be his way of saying thank you. (please say yes.)
— student!kaveh, who, after half an hour of deliberation on whether parting his bangs in a certain angle would make him look more presentable or not, shows up that night at the venue with a small sketchbook in his hands, telling you not to worry about it. every time your lips turn a certain way, or when the light hits your hand just right, he frantically sketches it down underneath the table, much to your confusion.
“did you enjoy the meal? hm? that? oh, it’s nothing. please, go on. you said something about how your friend could aether-edit?”
it was a pleasant time, despite him constantly dodging your questions on what in teyvat’s name he’s doing, and believing the constant rush he feels inside his head whenever you laugh is perfectly normal. you’re his muse, aren’t you? it’s only natural.
(and if the dinner spreads any rumors- well, kaveh thinks it’s normal to feel giddy, too.)
— student!kaveh, who, when looking at his graded paper days later, is pleased to know it is graded with high praise. the professor even commented on how he is finally starting to get a firm grasp on studying basic anatomy of architecture. (hmph. he thinks he was pretty good at anatomy up until then as well, but okay.) good- he’s put a lot of effort into that painting.
— student!kaveh, who insists on thanking you for the high grade again, the next time you run into each other- only this time with a bouquet of flowers, and a blush on his face.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin kaveh#genshin impact kaveh#kaveh x reader#kaveh#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin kaveh x reader
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A+ Student Pt.4
Masterlist!
(Fem reader, bit of angst.. ish? suggestive, dramaa , got a lot to catch up on so this is a pretty long part😚 you guys deserve it tho, not proofread!)
Summary: Y/n is a great student in her college, always getting good grades. Her college professor Matt, thinks she can get even higher ones with some “extra credit.” That is until she meets her new gym teacher..
(Quick little note: hey guys I haven’t written in a while so I may be a bit rusty but I hope it’s ok)
“How’d you get here so early?” Lizzy walks up to me, I’m sat on the bench where Chris’ stuff was previously. “Oh I.. I came in here at break to get ready before everyone.. I feel insecure for anyone to see me getting dressed.” I lie through my teeth, less than half hour ago the exact person who is teaching us this gym class was balls deep inside of me.
“You are stunning y/n,” Liz chuckles “no need to be insecure but okay.” She side hugs me gently. As the class fills up Chris walks through the door from the cupboard, the exact one we were.. you know. His eyes dart to mine and I awkwardly smile. “Okay girls, we have an important choice to make..” he starts to speak.
“You have a choice between what you wanna do in gym class, basketball with me or soccer with Ms Jones.” He clears his throat, “so uh.. stand on this side of the room if you wanna do basketball, and that side for soccer.” He points and shrugs. I stand up and follow Lizzy, she starts to walk to the Soccer side and I pause.
“Y/n? You love soccer right? Come on.” She smiles, “I’d rather.. step outside my comfort zone, you know.. push myself to try something new.” I smile enthusiastically, but the truth is I just wanna see Chris more. “Oh okay! I’m good at basketball I’ll do it with you.” She walks back over to me.
There’s about 8 girls on the basketball side and the rest are standing for soccer. I guess they’d rather have a female teacher, I would too if my teacher wasn’t so hot, but it’s pretty bare I don’t know how we’d do with 4v4 in basketball. “You won’t like this..” Chris talks to the class, interrupting my thoughts. “We have to mix the female and male classes,” complaints fill the gym.
“I know, I know you guys don’t like it but, because of the work being done on the boys gym, the boys need to come into here. Temporarily, and then the class can go back to normal and we won’t have to split it.. okay?” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. All of a sudden, the boys pile into the gym.
Chris explains what either options are and all the boys start to pick a side. It’s fairly equal in the end, either side having a good amount of us but I start to feel anxious at the difference in how many girls are doing basketball compared to soccer. There’s a good 20 boys on this side.
The other group goes to the soccer field and we stay put. I get budged by a boy, he’s gotta be at least 6ft. “Ouch.” I mutter, he turns around to face me and I realise just how tall he is, the height difference is too different I don’t like it. “You alright? Sorry my friends push eachother around.” He chuckles awkwardly.
“I’m okay thanks.” I go to turn away and his hand places on the side of my arm, I tilt my head in confusion. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around.” He smiles, his brown eyes looking down at me. “I’m y/n, I tend to keep to myself.” I shrug. “I’m Mason.” He looks me up and down, “how tall are you?” He laughs lightly.
“I’m 5ft 3.. why?” I smile nervously. “I’m just worried how you’d do with a bunch of 6ft something boys playing basketball. You’re the shortest here.” He laughs. I hold back a smile, “I’ll be good. Bye Mason.” I rolls my eyes and I feel his gaze burning into me as I walk to Lizzy. “Flirting much?” She smirks, “no.. he’s not my type.” I shrug.
“Hmm sure.” She laughs slightly, I look over and see Chris looking at me, he turns his head to face the boys putting up the basketball hoops. I smile to myself, “ohh.” She whispers, drawing my attention to her, “hm?” She grins, “you like the teacher? I thought you liked Professor Sturniolo?” I shrug and sigh.
“Right let’s get into teams, we need two captains to pick the people for their team..” Chris spoke, “what about you Mason?” He scans the room, “no girls wanna be captain? Okay then Will you can be the other.” He smiles. His perfect smile.. perfect teeth. “Y/n.” Mason says my name and I look up to him, “what?” I awkwardly look around, “I want you on my team.” He looks down at me.
I look around, I’m the second person he’s picked.. why me? I know nothing about basketball and I’m not even his friend. “Oh.. okay.” I walk over to him. I see Chris glaring in the corner of my eye.
The teams get picked, Mason picked Lizzy because she’s my best friend, Which is nice I guess. They start to play, I don’t know much on basketball and I freeze when 5 boys rush past me to get the ball. “You okay?” Lizzy calls to me, she’s lucky she’s a tall girl. 5’9, she can keep up with them but I look like a lost puppy.
“No.” I say back to her and she chuckles before pointing next to me frantically, I turn and a basketball comes plowing into my face. I freeze again, not wanting to embarrass myself by crying but that fucking hurt like a motherfucker. I feel tears build in my eyes and Chris runs over to me, “hey you good?” He speaks softly and calmly, hands on my shoulders.
“I..” I go to answer but I just start crying. Without thinking he pulls me into his chest and hugs me. The sounds of feet scuffing on the ground stops, “you’re okay, just a scratch.” He smiles as I pull away from the hug and he turns my face, holding my cheek and observing the scratch. It feels like nobody’s here, it’s just us. Until..
“Everything good in here?” Its.. Matts voice? Chris’ hands drop off of me and all the other people are watching me. I feel nervous as Matt walks up to us, “I don’t have a class, thought I’d watch my brother teaching.” He spoke falsely as his eyes meet mine. “She ok?” He’s talking as if I’m not there. “Uh yeah.. gonna need to clean the scratch though.” Chris awkwardly chuckles.
“I can take her to clean it? Maybe she can explain how she walked out my class earlier.” He smiles, and a few ooos come from people around me. “Uh yeah okay.” Chris says, but I know deep down he doesn’t want me alone with Matt.
“Come on.” Matt motions me to walk with him. “Distracted in class?” He spoke up, breaking the short silence. “Uh no. I wasn’t looking and it came out of nowhere.” I shrug. “At least Chris was there to give you a little comfort hm?” He spoke harshly and sarcastically. I just hum in response.
“Where’d you go when you stormed out of class?” He turns into the janitors closet, where the med kits are kept and I follow. “To the bathroom.” I lie, “don’t lie to me y/n.” He sits me down on a stool and grabs a med kit off the shelf. “I’m not..” he cuts me off by shushing me. “You went to gym class didn’t you? Wanted to practice? I bet you weren’t practicing basketball were you?” He hisses as he leans down with an alcohol wipe in his hand.
“I.. what do you” I breathe in sharply as he pushes the wipe on my face without warning, the stinging causing my eyes to water. “Ow.” I look up at him, blue eyes burning into mine. “You think I didn’t try to find you after you didn’t come back? I did.” He seems hurt.. does he know? He grips my chin and turns my head to get better access to the scratch which is bleeding lightly.
“What do you mean?” I speak innocently and he groans. “You’re a slut.” He smirks, “fucking slut.” He stands up and bins the wipe. “A slut? What do..” he cuts me off, “stop asking me what I mean y/n. You know exactly what I’m saying, you and Chris were.. practicing in the gym closet hm?” He sighs. My face goes red.
“I didn’t.. you were flirting with that new girl, I just..” I also sigh, he scoffs, “flirting? Don’t turn this on me, I wouldn’t have done anything with her but you? You brought it upon yourself to..” he grumbles as his eyebrows knit together, “well if you don’t want anything with me why should it matter? You said it yourself, you don’t wanna lose your job.” I smirk.
“I thought you wanted me y/n.. me.” His voice cracks slightly but he collects himself and leans against a shelf. “I’m a college student Matt, I’m gonna fuck as many people as I want and can, don’t take it personal.” I laugh. “You don’t get it y/n..” “no you don’t get it Matt.. I wanted you, so badly, I still do but Chris? He hasn’t treated me like shit.” I lean my head back.
“I’m sorry y/n. I just love my job I don’t wanna lose it.” He whispers, “you’ve made that clear professor Sturniolo. Thanks for helping with this scratch.” I get up and walk out the closet. He follows after me. I’m being dramatic I know, I’m making this about me, it’s his job and he loves it I shouldn’t try to get it the way but.. “Maybe I could show you that I do care?” He whispers as he catches up with me. “What do you..” I look at his face, his pupils have dilated and he’s smirking.
“Oh..” I turn to him, “what changed your mind?” I chuckle lightly, “I imagined Chris’ face when I tell him I fucked you better than he did.” He whispers his face full of lust, I fight my instincts to kiss him, because of cameras. “you really shouldn’t be so competitive.” I smile as I continue to walk. “Where can we go?” He mumbles.
“I’m not doing it with you right now, I’m still worn out from.. basketball?” I lie even though Matt knows what I mean, there’s a janitor at the end of the corridor. “Oh okay.” He fake pouts as I turn into the gym, “I’ll text you.” I smile before we part ways.
As I enter the gym, Chris walks up to me. “All good now?” He asks, tilting his head. “Yeah.” I smile lightly before I walk up to Lizzy, “you seem happy?” She laughs, “yep all good.” I feel someone’s hand on my shoulder and they turn me around. Mason, I forgot about him. “I’m so sorry, on behalf on James. Your cheek okay?” His hand hovers over the fading scratch.
I pull away from him, “yeah it’s okay thanks, maybe get James to apologise to me himself instead of you.” I look over at James, who waves awkwardly. “Copy that.” Mason spoke, stifling a chuckle. “Why are you laughing?” I ask, “Im sorry it’s just.. don’t worry.” He pats my shoulder and walks away.
Lizzy goes to say something but I stop her, “don’t. I’m not into him.” She laughs, “he’s into you though, why aren’t you into him? He’s tall, brunette, brown eyes, strong.. he’s the whole package.” I huff, “if he’s so amazing why don’t you ask him out?” I speak impatiently. “Because I’m.. I’m uh not into tall people.” She chuckles awkwardly.
“There.. you aren’t into his height and I’m not into his.. everything.” I smile softly.
Class ends and we sit in the gym, “wanna skip Math?” Lizzy speaks up, budging my arm to get my attention. “Where would we go?” I ask curiously, “the bathrooms? We can make a fake out of order sign and chill in there.” I laugh and grab her face, “Lizzy you genius!” I bring our faces close before letting go.
She clears her throat, “they don’t even use out of order signs anymore, they write it on paper it’s easy to copy.” She smiles at me and I quickly pull out my notebook, I hand her the notebook and a pen and she scribbles down “out of order.” She grabs tape out of her bag and sticks it on the top.
We run to the bathroom and stick the note on a door and sit in the cubicle. She sits on the toilet seat and I’m on the top of the toilet, where the flush is. My legs are either side of her and I accidentally kick her. “Sorry.” I whisper.
We hear someone enter the door and they start talking, “I’m telling you, I would climb him like a tree, have you seen his tattoos?” It’s the new girl, Kelly. “Not my type Kel.” Some girl speaks back, “yeah you love stuffing yourself full of bbc don’t you.” Kelly laughs loudly, “don’t say it like that, but.. basically yeah.” They start to giggle.
“Also how can you have a crush on a teacher? That’s like weird.” The other girl spoke, me and Lizzy are staying silent. “Yeah I wouldn’t do anything with him, I wish I could but maybe I’ll hit him up once we’re out of college.” She laughs, and they leave the bathroom.
She was talking about Matt.
A/n: ooooo, drama. Sorry for the long break, my posting is gonna be pretty messed up because your girl has appointments😚 but anyways.. y’all know I love to add to the plot so we’re plotting super hard rn, I need to feed y’all, ur basically my children fr<3 anyways I’ll stop yapping but dw you may get some Matt smut soon? Whattttt🙈 Also who tf is Mason bro💀 bros obsessed.
Anyway hope it was ok, I haven’t written in ages.
Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @mattybslover @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @bueckerslover @fratbrochrisgf @sturniol0s @alwayssublimedelusion @certifiednatelover @freshsturns @riasturns @sturniololvrrr @maryx2xx @whicked-hazlatwhore @cammie4298 @sturnsjtop @sturnzblog @chr1sgirl4life @evie-sturns @milasturniolo @jaxyy219 @mattsturniolosbae @h3arts4harry @littlebookworm803 @realqueenofpepsi @elsxz1
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#sturniolos#smut#chris sturniolo fanfic#matt
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Hi! I love your Nathan stuff and i always come back to read them whenever i’m in my nathan phase.
i was wondering if you’d be down to do #q and #3 for the kiss prompts with nathan. i was reading over them and i thought of a dumb scenario where he’s been trying to get a kiss all day but it’s just dumb little pecks every time. i just know he’d get so sassy about it.
if you don’t feel like it or don’t think it works with nathan then don’t worry about it! thank you!!
I'm guessing that q was meant to be 1. If it wasn't and I wrote it wrong....soz
Prompts: Small kisses littered across the other’s face; A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.
It's no secret to the world that you and Nathan are a couple, but on the average day-to-day, you don't go out of your way to advertise that fact.
When you're busy, you're more focused on pushing the company forward, not pushing your relationship forward. Nathan does it, too, and on hectic days, you don't take offense. The two of you are busy, and for as much as you love one another, you don't always make your romantic relationship a priority.
Come to think of it, the two of you hardly ever make it a priority.
Friday morning is no different.
You're on a call. You're listening closely to the feedback from your Chief Marketing Officer—the feedback from your annual summit is less favorable than you'd like. Your user base is concerned about the increased reliance on AI, but you're not relying on it—you're developing it, leaning into it, into the ways that your users have been accessing it—otherwise why the fuck else would you have developed it?
You nearly miss the sound of the knock on your door, but you glance up, doing a double-take when you spot him lingering in your doorway. He raises his finger to his lips, and you know that he wants you to avoid mentioning that he's listening in or has joined you in the room. He does this sometimes—like an Undercover Boss situation without the cameras and shitty wigs and fake buck teeth. You nod and wave him further into your office, adding, "Go on, I'm listening," When the product manager on the other side of the call goes quiet.
Nathan creeps further into the office as your product officer goes on, planting his palms on your desk and leaning in. You hardly turn your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek before waving him away.
--
You catch sight of him again in the elevator, but you're distracted again, eyes and mind focused on your phone, on the email that you're answering. You lean over, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips before stepping off of the elevator at your floor.
--
It happens in a crowded hall. You hardly catch sight of him, but you know that it's him, somehow—in the way that the others go quiet and stuff, and the hush of their otherwise free conversation. You reach out as he reaches for you, catching hold of his hand and giving it a squeeze before you push onto your meeting.
--
It's been a normal day. So why is Nathan beating the shit out of his punching bag? You lean in the doorway of his home gym, watching him rain blows down on the bag in front of him. You eye the sweat gleaming on his biceps and forehead, the steady pounding of his gloved fists against the vinyl.
"...Let up, he's already dead," You finally tease.
Nathan's punches slow before he ultimately reaches out, slowing the bag. You're surprised by the heated look that he points toward you as he turns in your direction, taking slow, measured steps toward you.
"Did you eat already?" You ask—but he doesn't answer. You watch him plant on his hands on his hips, drawing in deep breaths to steady himself.
"Kiss me."
"...What?" You frown.
"Give me a kiss—a fucking real one this time."
"I gave you real ones—"
"A real goddamn kiss, not those stupid little pecks I got all day."
You roll your eyes, straightening up and beginning to turn away. "Alright. I'm going to go make my dinner. Come and find me when you've moved on from being so fucking dramatic—"
You aren't able to turn fully away from him before he grasps your hips, pushing you back against the door jamb. Your breath catches in your throat, and you hardly get the chance to get a good look at him before Nathan's lips are descending greedily against yours. Your eyelids flutter, but you let them close and settle as he presses his body flush against yours. You sigh quietly, allowing your arms to loop around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the beads of sweat that have gathered at his nape.
Nathan draws away just enough for you to draw your breath, his tongue teasing against the seam of your lips.
"I ask you for a kiss again," He murmurs, "That's what I fuckin' want. Understood?"
You smile, hardly holding back a giggle.
"You're the boss."
Tag list:
@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;
@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;
@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ;
@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box
@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @foxilayde
@writefightandflightclub ; @thedukeofcaladan
#Nathan Bateman x Reader#Nathan Bateman x You#Nathan Bateman/Reader#Nathan Bateman/You#Nathan Bateman fic#Nathan Bateman imagine#kiss prompts#this fic is not at all inspired by my complete loathing of the google i/o summit this week.#.......#(i lie it is indeed inspired by that)
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Team Up I (NSFW) FT Chodan and Momo
Authors Note: Have y'all checked out Qwer… I mean Sheesh. Also I am aware that I may have a type. Part II: Coming eventually
The first time I met Chodan I was at a random bookstore in California looking for the most recent volume of Kaiju no. 8, Go Go Loser Ranger and ultraman. I noticed her nabbing a few copies of bleach (my favorite of the big three) she was wearing a simple white shirt and dark pants. Cautiously I approach she tracks me and I force my most confident and resolute smile. I think of an opener but she beats me to it.
“I see you like manga. How do you feel about Bleach.” She asked.
“It is my favorite of the big three. I love its expressive art style and how the author portrays and draws “black characters” his portrayal is only second to the author of Soul Eater and Fire Force” I respond. The lady smiles like I passed her test.
“My name is Jihye,” I nod
“Okay Jihye I dig it, but seeing you up close up you have this weird sense of familiarity.” I lied. Jihye smirked
“Well, that depends are you on twitch.” She asked seductively she was surprised when I shook my head. Seeing the opportunity I say,
“I got it,” I say mock recollecting, “you’ve been the lady running around in my dreams” Jihye laughs and smiles.
“You’re funny I like that. What’s your name?” She questioned
Two years later
“Okay, Cho. I am at arrivals,” I say to my girlfriend who’s been driving around the airport waiting for me. She had flown in the week prior for a series of shows across Japan. I was flying in to see "League of Legends" World championship which was in Tokyo this year. I was also staying an extra two days to see the showcase because I love her so much. She didn’t know it though.
When I saw her I smiled. “Hey sexy thing, you waiting for me?” she asked as she rolled the window. I smile as I get in
“You know you saying that makes me sound like a prostitute,” I tease.
Cho smiles back, “Well maybe I think you are a cheap whore. You would still be my favorite though.” I laugh with her as she drives off.
“So where are we heading?” I ask as she drives from the airport.
“Our little love nest than a PC Bang probably, don't worry though they have a card shop attached so you can play commander,” Chandan said with a smile.
“You know me so well,” babe I say as she pulls up to the Hotel’s parking Chodan smiles before kissing my cheek. We get into the hotel and I set my bag down and take in the view.
“You like it?” Chodan asks. I nodded and turned to her
“Yes, but I like this view more,” I say as I watch her take off her jacket and reveal her tight tank top. I kiss her and she chuckles
"You're such a slut you know that," She teases while bringing me in for a passionate kiss. her hands wander across my chest and arms before she breaks the kiss and lifts the tank top over her head. her eyes are wide with lust as I smile before responding
"Well, when my girlfriend looks this hot how can I say no, ya know?"
"Well, Why can't I just be sexy without my whore of a boyfriend needing to fuck me?" She teases back. Playing her game I respond in kind
"I can take a nap we don't have to do this," I respond. Cho responds aggressively by throwing my shirt off me and forcing my pants open.
"I have gone without this evil but delicious cock for 4 months. you are not going to deprive me of it any longer," she growls and I worry slightly because she's never done that before. but my fears are soon pushed away as she takes my cock into her mouth. Her tight vacuum seal around my rod is intoxicating and causes me to begin moaning for her
“Ah fuck Jihye,” I moan out reverting to her real name. She takes me in further than she ever has as her throat relaxes around my cock and her eyes scream at me to go deeper, so I lightly grab the sides of her head before fulfilling her request. I plunge my cock deeper. Her gags and my moans are the only audible sounds resonating in the room I look down at my lovely girlfriend and gone is the cute girl I have come to love and cherish replaced with a hungry predator. She devoured my rod with the fervor of a starved animal.
Her adorable bright eyes left dark tainted by the shadow of lust as her throat stretched to accommodate me. Her eyes invite, no demand I cum down her throat as she challenges me to fuck her face harder, which I do. I thrust with more force as she gags more on my cock her eyes roll into the back of her head signifying her satisfaction. Her spit is flying her makeup is ruined but she is euphoric in her body as I watch her finger herself. Unable to hold off any longer my dick churns massive amounts of cum down her throat as I exploded into her tight wet throat. Chodan moans causing an almost secondary orgasm on top of my original one but I hold out. I needed to own her pussy as well. When I left her mouth she stared at me with a disheveled but blissed-out look,
“Thank God I had that itch in my throat for months, and only your cock could scratch it” Chodan joked before stripping the rest of her clothes. Her tight body enticed me to further depravity but what sealed the deal was her sizable bust swaying in the cool air hypnotizing me to fuck her for real this time. I grabbed Chodan wordlessly causing her to yelp before I stuff her pussy with my cock
“Hey? Ooh fuck.” her voice went from a high-pitched yelp to a pleased moan. My cock invaded her insides as she said, “Oh is my slit gonna cum again?” she always knew the words to set me off as I began slowly I pulled out just enough for the tip to remain in her before slamming my whole length back in. Chodan moaned no longer having the mental capacity to do anything other than take my cock which she always did so well. I groped her mesmeric orbs she called breasts and forced her body to be flush with mine instead of having her bent over the bed. My primal instincts took over as I thrust into like an animal trying to impregnate her. The harder the better.
Chodan throughout all could only moan before she came on my cock. Her moans rang through my ears like melodic percussion as she lost herself to the pleasure but I as her drenched and sloshed pussy squelched and squeezed my high was not far off. I explode into my girl as she moans “Oh God yes, oh God yes,” we collapsed onto the bed with my cock still inside her. When we woke up she rode my cock again to her and my fulfillment. Then we took a quick chaste shower Cho and I went to the PC Bang she mentioned.
You and Momo were heading to PC Bang after a long and stressful day at work. As you walk in Chodan and I bump into y'all.
"Oh Gomen," I reply. You look at me with a curious look as I return the look.
We stare at each other for a bit of time before Momo says to Chodan, how pretty her hair is. you notice my deck bag and ask if I play mtg in English. I nod and you gesture for Chodan and me to join you. Momo and Chodan split off while we find a nice table to play at.
"Do you play modern?" You ask.
I nod.
"Oh good, I hate 1v1 commander."
"I do as well," I reply, "that is why I built Domain Zoo," I added.
"Okay good you are playing an archetype and not Jank," you reply relieved pulling out indomitable creativity. We get set up and I face you. I pull out my dice.
"Do you want to go first or should I?" I ask. You point to yourself and I give you the thumbs up. We shuffle up and you and pregame action I play Leyline of the guildpact. You give me a thumbs up and play your turn 1 Ragavan. It gets to my turn I play an arid mesa and tap it for an Esper sentinel. you look at me surprised and then on your next turn you cast a bolt (directed at me) and then I draw a card. You swing Ragavan and pull a leyline of the guild pact off of my top. I shrug at this, but before we can get further into the game the building begins to shake. We look at each other and run outside. As expected a Kaiju is wreaking havoc on the city. I take out my transformer and you take out yours as we do our transformations “Hyperion” you yell
“Hyperion X” I yell
We transform and fight the kaiju. Through our combined efforts it honestly barely an issue. We deactivated our transformations before the HDF could even arrive.
“So you’re also a Hyperion?” you ask. I nod and quantify
“But I was born here,” your eyes narrow and you respond
“Hmm, that’s a first,” you say.
I shrug and reply
“Well my parents like this planet, as do you it seems,” I tease as I watch our girlfriends walk up to us in their full HDF combat attire.
“Oh good Dota you’re safe,” Chodan says relieved. You and Momo look at me confused.
“Dota?” You question.
“Oh right, I never introduced myself. My name is Dakota King but everyone calls me Dota usually.” I respond you nod and then Momo says,”
“Okay well then Dota and Chodan how about we get some lunch since our date was ruined,” Cho and I nod as we follow the older couple. We went to a nearby restaurant and had a pleasant experience where got to know each other. I learned that Momo and you were part of Japan's HDF force (You were a cleaner, and Momo was a fighter), and we also learned that Chodan's subgroup would be working with Momo's group for one of the upcoming showcases. After we ate our fill Chodan and I left.
"They seem nice," Momo says to you when the two of you get back to your shared apartment.
You nod, and reply, "I wonder if they have any other plans? Maybe we can see them again."
Mom lights up, "Ooh I'd love that," she says happily. The two of you then quickly discard the other's clothing and begin making out. Momo moans into the kiss.
"Someone is excited," you say to her. Momo nods,
"I have you all to myself tonight, and I am going to enjoy it," Momo said.
#kpop fanfic#fanfic#male reader#kaiju au#momo smut#twice smut#hirai momo#twice momo#chodan#chodan smut#qwer#Qwer Chodan
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Hickey Prompt
Colin lingered in the doorway, a soft smirk dancing over his mouth as he watched her; flustered and mumbling to herself. “It truly is not that bad, you worry yourself for nothing.” He mused, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Penelope scoffed at him, “Be quite serious, Colin. I fear the masses shall be distressed for my safety if am to attend in this state.” Pushing himself from the wall, he took three long, slow strides across the room before he was pressed behind her, watching her reflection as she ran her hands over the smooth, bruised skin of her chest and neck.
Colin had to admit - he particularly pleased with his handiwork. She was littered from jaw to sternum in a spectrum of colours he had stamped onto her. Shades of scarlet and damson fluttered down and across her full breasts, displaying the path of Colin’s affections a little too clearly. He supposed, as he lifted a gentle hand to her cheek, that he may have gone too far.
Maybe.
His digits twisted around a loose strand of golden hair at the edge of her face, drawing it back behind her ear and allowing his fingertips to trace over her bare skin toward the edge of her shoulder, and back again to rest heavily in the crook of her neck. Penelope’s breath hitched in her throat ever so slightly, but Colin heard it.
“Well,” he dipped his head to her, letting his warm breath coat the back of her neck, delighting at the speed her flesh broke out into goosebumps. “While I have no desire to create cause for concern, nor do I wish to have every member of the ton enquiring about our marital affairs,” he drew his lips closer as he spoke, until they were brushing against her nape, “I would so love to discern the look on Lord Debling’s face if he were to see how you let me mark you.”
#polin#bridgerton#colin x penelope#colin my wife bridgerton#lady whistledown#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#bridgerton imagine#i haven’t written in so long#fic prompt#bridgerton netflix
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Title: Joyful Gatherings
Note:I think I post a lot,But I have many drafts,hope you like it ;3 request are open oh and I changed few things..everything is made up...and if you want to talk I'm here,Tell me your inspirations and ideasI was thinking of writing something,Lana Del Rey's Lolita is my inspiration at the moment (I love her songs:) what do you think should I write it?
Summary: Set in 2023, the Button and Vettel families gather for a dinner filled with laughter and joy. Reader, Jenson Button's little sister and Sebastian Vettel's wife, has exciting news to share that leads to heartfelt reactions and playful teasing.
Warning: Fluff, family banter, pregnancy announcement
Retired!Sebastian vettel x wife!reader!Button, Jenson Button x reader!Button ,
Jenson's wife x reader [her name is Emma]
It was a warm, summer evening in 2023, and the Button household was abuzz with laughter and conversation. The dining room table was set for a family feast, filled with delicious dishes that Jenson's wife Emma had expertly prepared. Jenson, Emma, and their children filled the room with their energetic chatter. Seated at the table were also Sebastian and you his wife, who happened to be Jenson's younger sister.
Sebastian, now retired from Formula 1, had taken to the quieter life with ease, but the camaraderie and competitiveness still ran strong in the group. Tonight, though, there was a special kind of excitement in the air. The two families hadn't gathered like this in some time, and it felt good to be together.
Jenson was mid-story, recounting a particularly daring maneuver from his racing days, when you, sitting beside Sebastian, glanced at him. You squeezed his hand under the table, a silent request for reassurance. Sebastian met your eyes and gave a small nod, his smile calming your nerves.
Taking a deep breath, you cleared throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Everyone, we have some news to share."
All eyes turned to you, curiosity piqued. "What's going on?" Jenson asked, his tone playful yet concerned.
"I'm pregnant," you announced, your voice wavering slightly with emotion.
For a moment, there was silence as the news sunk in. Then, the room erupted into cheers and congratulations. Emma reached over to hug you, while Jenson clapped Sebastian on the back with a hearty laugh.
"Well, Vettel, looks like you're not wasting any time!" Jenson teased, his grin wide.
Sebastian chuckled, his arm wrapping protectively around you. "Guilty as charged," he replied, his eyes twinkling with joy.
The children, caught up in the excitement, were peppering you with questions about the baby, while Emma joined in the teasing. "Better get ready for those sleepless nights again, Seb!" she laughed.
"Ah, sleep is overrated anyway," Sebastian retorted, drawing more laughter from the group.
Jenson shook his head, still grinning. "Just make sure to teach the kid how to drive properly, not just fast."
"Oh, don't worry. With an uncle like you, they’ll have the best of both worlds," Sebastian shot back, earning another round of chuckles.
As the night went on, the two families continued to share stories and jokes, the atmosphere light and filled with love.
Emmma leaned over to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can’t believe it! Another little one in the family. How are you feeling about it all?"
"Honestly, I'm a mix of nervous and excited," you admitted. "But with Sebastian by my side, I feel ready for this new adventure."
She squeezed your hand warmly. "You two are going to be wonderful parents. And don't worry, we'll be here every step of the way."
"Thank you, that means a lot," you said, eyes misting over slightly.
As the evening progressed, the conversation shifted to future plans. Jenson, always the doting brother, promised to be the best uncle and spoil the baby rotten.
"Just remember," Jenson's wife said with a wink, "we're always here for you. We're family, and we'll face everything together."
You smiled, your heart full. You looked around the table, at the faces of your loved ones, and felt a profound sense of gratitude. It was in moments like these that you realized how truly blessed you are.
Later in the evening, as the group began to wind down and the children were ushered off to bed, you found yourself alone with Emma in the kitchen, tidying up the remnants of their meal.
“You know,” she began, handing her a plate to dry, “when Jenson and I found out we were expecting our first, I was terrified. I didn’t know the first thing about being a mom.”
You looked up, surprised. “You? You’re such a natural, though.”
She laughed softly. “It didn’t feel that way at first. But you learn as you go. And with a partner like Seb, I have no doubt you’ll be just fine.”
“Thanks,” you said, feeling a bit more at ease. “It’s good to hear that. I mean, I’m excited, but it’s all so new.”
She smiled warmly. “And that’s the beauty of it. You get to discover it all together. And you’ve got us, too. We’re just a phone call away.”
They shared a knowing smile, the bond between them growing even stronger with the shared understanding of motherhood.
As the evening drew to a close, and the families began to say their goodbyes, Sebastian pulled you close, whispering in your ear, "I can't wait for this next adventure with you."
You looked up at him, eyes shining. "Me too," you whispered back.
And as two of you stepped out into the cool night, hand in hand, they knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, surrounded by the love and support of their family.
Short fic as always,(cause after wattpad i don't feel confident to write long fics).. i love Emma she is so sweet. Hope you liked it ;3...oh And I was thinking of writing about Jenson and Emma, as well...is it too much? Okay so hope you have good day or night and don't forget to drink water
#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel#jenson button x you#jenson button x reader#jenson button#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#fanfic#f1 drivers
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Hello! I have a question that is about nerve issues, but falls under the general topic of chronic pain.
I have a character who plays the bass guitar. She has obtained a lot of nerve damage, especially in hands and arms, while working in difficult conditions. Playing the bass can be painful for her on most days, impossible on some, because of the way the instrument is held (and the repetitive fine motor movements).
I am worried about accidentally presenting this as a glorification of pushing through pain, or accidentally making it seem like yet another plot saying, "Isn't it so tragic how this disabled person can no longer do things they enjoy?". Do you have any advice on avoiding this?
There is some context I think may be important here. The character's nerve pain is based on my own, but to a lesser degree (I have had to give up playing all musical instruments, longhand writing, drawing).
I'm asking this question, because, to be honest, I completely avoid talking about things I used to do but now cannot, like the things I listed above. This is because I worry people will just think of me as "ruined" or "a tragedy". (This is what has happened when I talk about it.) I don't want this insecurity to bleed into the way I write the character, because what I really want to do is just write a character who is disabled in the way I am.
I apologize if this is a bad question, or if this is not fitting with the rules. Thank you very much for reading this!
Hello,
From what you've told me, I don't think you have anything to worry about. A lot of people will continue to do things they love even with our disabilities making it hard to do them the same way we once did. It's just one of the character's passions, something she enjoys, she just has something that impacts how long she can play before needing to take a break. There's no problem there. I still draw because I like to, dyspraxia doesn't matter beyond putting a limit on how much I can do in one sitting.
Also, you're writing about your own experiences. Maybe you've got different reasons, but it sounds to me like you're basically writing about a character like you who's having experiences where her disability impacts her hobbies. It's completely fine for you to do that, full stop.
I really like this premise, and I think you're going to do a great job with it.
Mod Aaron
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Hello! I really like your fics and I saw your spotify event! I love Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridges too so, since you've already wrote Lover (really sweet and cute), I'll ask for "Went looking for a creation myth" (I Know The End is my FAVORITE song) with Zoro. Thank you very much! 😊
I KNOW THE END — RORONOA ZORO
roronoa zoro + went looking for a creation myth
content: fem! reader, fluff, part of the spotify wrapped event
notes: i’m so sorry this is so late! i hope you like it <3
as a pirate, there are few days you get to just relax and explore places you visit, especially given the particularly high bounty of yours and the rest of the strawhats. you struck gold when you docked in a small town that was amenable to pirate-visitors and very opposed to marine presence.
you, nami, and robin are lounging on some beach chairs the locals lent you. while robin’s deep in her newest book, one that’s bigger and thicker than her last one, you and nami watch as usopp, luffy, and zoro wrestle at the shoreline. usopp manages to get an upper hand on zoro, springing onto his back and covering his eyes. “now, luffy!” usopp yells and luffy’s launching himself towards the two. they all collapse, usopp and luffy laughing raucously and zoro grumbling and cursing beneath them.
“hello to the most beautiful women in the world,” sanji says as he approaches, balancing a tray of iced drinks. “care for refreshers? hibiscus and honey iced tea.” the drinks are a rich fuschia with a lemon at the rim and the sight makes your mouth water.
“thanks, sanji.” you take a drink and pass another to nami while sanji circles your cluster of chairs to get to robin, who doesn’t even look up as she flips a page and takes a glass.
“oi, lovecook, do we get anything?” zoro saunters up the dune, followed by luffy and usopp.
“no.”
zoro scowls before turning to you. “let me have a sip.”
“no!” you say, drawing your glass close to your chest. you can feel the condensation gathering at your fingertips. “get your own!”
“curly brows won’t give me one,” zoro says. “what’s the big deal, just let me have some of yours?”
“no, you always say you’ll only have a little and then glug down half!”
“isn’t a perk of a being in a relationship sharing things with your partner?’
you snort, “please, you’re the biggest hog of us all.” zoro glowers and you sigh, “fine, you big baby.” you hold out your drink and he goes to take it when you jerk your arm back.
“what now?” he asks.
“one condition.”
“what?”
you grin brightly, tapping your cheek. “a sip for a kiss.”
“you’re impossible,” he says, cheeks flushing but he leans down anyway and pecks your cheek. your own cheeks are warm and you’re not sure it’s from the sun.
you let him take a few sips of your drink before you say, “that’s enough, babe.”
“what? it was barely a drop! just a little more.”
“that wasn’t meant for you, mosshead!” sanji says, snatching the glass from him. he looks into the nearly empty cup and scowls at zoro before turning to you apologetically. “don’t worry, i’ll go whip up another, pretty.”
“thanks, sanji.”
“don’t call my girlfriend ‘pretty.’”
“don’t tell me what to do!”
“i’ll say whatever i want to you!”
you’re not surprised as you watch sanji aim a kick at zoro, your boyfriend immediately parrying. as they start kicking up sand, nami shouts, “ugh, can you guys do this somewhere else?” to their credit, they move their fight elsewhere (before nami has the chance to throw her discarded sandal at them).
she leans back in her chair and groans, “i don’t know how you put up with him sometimes.”
“patience,” you reply and she snorts.
“i don’t even remember how you two got together,” she says. “it was just like one day you were both single and then the next day, you told us you were dating.
you smile a little. you’re fond of the memory — the look of shock on the rest of the crew’s face was priceless, and predictably, sanji and zoro got into an argument about you and how zoro is the last person qualified to date you.
“how’d it happen, anyways?”
“what?”
“you and zoro?”
you try to think back on how it happened. it wasn’t like some sparks-fly moment like you’ve read in some of robin’s books nor some burning confession that was just bubbling up inside you. you remember the day he asked you on a date very well, though.
you were sailing on a calm part of the ocean, and it was a sunny day with a gentle breeze. luffy, chopper, and usopp were playing some card game that was rapidly devolving into a cheating match. nami was tending to her tangerine tree while franky and robin were deep in some conversation.
you and zoro had finished training in the gym and were lounging on deck. you basked in the warmth of the sun, on the verge of sleep, and you rolled over. you bumped into zoro and went to apologize but he just shrugged and pulled you in, letting you rest your head against his chest. “this comfortable?” he asked.
“yeah, you’re a good pillow,” you sighed, closing your eyes.
there was a brief pause before zoro said, “i heard nami and curly brows talking about the island we’re going to. said there was a nice restaurant there. want to go?”
“sure, that sounds nice. are you going to be able to play nice with sanji there?”
“i was thinking it would just be use. you and me.”
you crack opened a eye and glance over at him. he wasn’t looking at you but you could see some red creeping up on his ears. you cuddle into him. “yeah, that sounds nice.”
you turn back to nami and say, “i don’t know. it just felt right. natural.”
she seems content with your answer as she nods and leans back in her chair. you do too, closing your eyes, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and your boyfriend’s distant yells.
#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes#kaiijo's spotify wrapped event#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro x reader#one piece x reader#one piece imagines#one piece scenario#zoro x you#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro fic#zoro fic#zoro imagine#roronoa zoro imagine
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I as so excited you open your request.
Can I ask a ThurfianxF!reader based on your Thrawn mate story? I would love if reader was sent to the Chiss Ascendancy by Thrawn (like he knew reader would match with Thurfian by her smell or something)
This will challenge our xenophobic boy, and I'm sure the fact that out of all he gets to meet his "mate" thank to Thrawn, will piss him off more than the fact that the reader is human.
g:xkf;glghogfuhfd THURFIAN MY BELOVED ❤️❤️ My old man ❤️❤️❤️ He would have a heart attack in all honesty 🤣
Beautiful drawing by the talented @thrawns-backrest
Tags : Thurfian is an ass, xenophobia, mate system and culture, attempted assault, Thurfian saves the day (Go King!)
Thurfian lays his head on his hand, scrolling on his comm. He likes to get an idea of the current climate through comms during his rare break times throughout the day to compare the info he receives on his official feed on his computer. It helps him get new points of view and perspectives.
That also means going through an impressive amount of tabloids. He really should look into how to block these sites on his comm, they are a nuisance and a disgrace to true journalism. He is scrolling through one of them rapidly when the title of an article stops him.
“Truly cut for the role? Why the Mitth Patriarch’s lack of mate highlights a worrying trend.”
He remains fixated on that one for a solid minute, completely flabbergasted. His first instinct is to call his lawyer to have that tabloid closed for the affront, but it passes quickly. Instead, he puts his comm down sighing, feeling tiredness washing over him. He passes a hand through his long braided hair, laying his head back against his chair.
The most painful thing is that that rag is true. All Patriarchs of every family recorded in history with a big H had a mate, no exception ever. Some found them sooner or later in life but none reached his age without a partner sitting with them on the throne. He is quite the exception.
The shameful exception.
He feels Thivick disapproving gaze on him during diplomatic dinners with other Patriarch and their mates, the seat next to Thurfian being desperately empty.
His hand comes to loosen his collar to allow him to breathe better. He closes his eyes, feeling defeated.
It was not always like that in his life.
He used to collect lovers back in his youth, potential mates or not, none were safe from his charm. A large collection of Chiss visited his bed when he was a young adult. He shamefully admits that he played potential mates to get access to their intimacy before leaving them when they were no longer fun. Non-potential mates were less difficult, they both knew what they were here for. And then he started his career as a syndic and left dating and playing around in the past to dedicate himself to his career. He, naively he will admit, thought he would meet a new potential mate at work, getting to know each other day by day, falling in love over time, and deciding to mate and unify himself with her, finishing his life at her side. Something simple and uncomplicated.
Boring to some, sufficient for him.
But all the women he met were taken, non-compatible, or rejected him. Mates tend to get together young when they can, way younger than he was already back then. He made peace with his situation, choosing to focus on his career and what he could do for the Mitth, becoming a “mateless”, one of those people who failed at settling down with a compatible person in time. Not the most glorious, but he could do with it.
And all was well.
Until he became a Patriarch.
And his situation was brutally rubbed into his face again.
A Patriarch without a Mate is a failure.
No matter their results.
Having a mate is the first step toward respectability in Chiss society, and a Patriarch failing at that task is the subject of gossip and mockery and always on the verge of being overthrown in favor of a more stable individual. It is such an easy insult to throw at him. And he fully deserves it. If he didn’t play so much with potential mates in the past he wouldn’t have his sulfurous reputation of player and heart stabber. Not so many potential mates would have rejected him since then.
He recalls how he used to modify his smell with perfume, something highly prohibited in Chiss society. Misguiding the potential mate of someone else by modifying one’s scent markers is highly illegal.
But he was young, hot-headed, and an idiot.
And today he pays the price of his entire life choices. He grew and matured decades ago but the harm had been done.
Sometimes he envies mateless species. Simply living and falling in love or living free of the marital and mating duties... Sounds comforting and liberating.
When was the last time he felt the presence of a potential mate?
Several years, easily.
More than ten years since he last smelled that delicious scent of honey, liquor, and tea leaves on someone. The one scent signaling him that this person is compatible with him. The same as his.
He greets his teeth.
“The Mateless”
His unofficial title when his back is turned.
His shame, his dishonor. The stain in his life.
But what can he do now? He is fated to finish his life alone, the question is more about how he will meet his end. Back in time, non-mated Patriarchs could get executed for failing their family, for being too unstable, and for not providing an heir to the family.
It was millennia and millennia ago, of course. Chiss evolved past those barbaric laws, but the prejudice remained, remembering Thurfian that ages ago his life choices would have guided him to the pillory.
Thurfian suddenly freezes and opens his eyes wide, almost trembling in shock.
That smell...
No.
It’s impossible. He must hallucinate, that’s the most logical explanation.
Thurfian suppresses a laugh at his own idiocy. Of course, it is impossible. Crossing paths with a potential partner at his age is simply improbable. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, what a stupid thought just crossed his mind!
He turns back to his files, waiting for the hallucination to settle.
But five minutes later, the scent he stopped hoping for is still here. Well present.
Heady.
Overporwering.
Making his head turn and his heart pumps harder. He almost starts feeling vertigo.
He gulps, passing his hand through his long hair.
He needs to calm down and be rational.
This is impossible.
But the delicious scent of tea leaves titillates his nostrils, like a dare, like a temptation.
He needs to be sure!
He almost jumps on his feet, before remembering who he is and calmly exiting his office. He is the Patriarch and a Mitth for the Warrior’s sake! He slowly, almost lazily walks in the corridors of the Manor.nHe really needs to keep his expectations low. They surely already know about his scandalous reputation. But maybe...
Just maybe...
They could come from a far enough away world to have never heard about it!
Highly unlikely!
But he cannot help but hope.
The further he walks into the Manor, the more significant the smell of tea leaves gets, the notes of honey and liquor mixing deliciously, enhancing that superior scent. Thurfian chides himself. By all accounts that mysterious person will already be taken and mated to someone else. But nothing prevents him from coming to meet and befriending them.
Yes.
A friend is also appreciable, he has so little left since he accessed the throne. He nods to himself. A friend would be perfect.
His comm rings, prompting him to stop to check it.
It is a Syndic of the family signaling that a stranger with the highest priority code message wishes to meet Thurfian, waiting for him in the Manor’s salon. The message is short and leaves no guessing about the urgency of the demand.
But not even a family name? Thurfian frowns, dubious.
And the salon is exactly where the delicious scent is leading him right now.
When he reaches the large and heavy old-style wooden doors of the salon the delectable smell invades his lungs and nose, he can breathe it in at each inhalation. That’s definitely them!
He opens the door to meet the Syndic who sent him the text.
“Patriarch?” They ask surprised, “What are you-”
“I am here to meet them.” He cuts them short, walking past them.
“Ah! Patriarch! Wait! Plea-”
Thurfian keeps going and passes the arches with palpitations.
He turns his head and...!
Stops dead in his tracks as the stranger turns their head to his arrival.
An alien!
A... Human!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I need your help for a delicate mission, Commander.” Grand Admiral Thrawn said to you, skirting his desk to sit.
“Of course, Grand Admiral.” You stend to attention, “What can I do to serve you?”
Thrawn smiled tightly. Always energetic and willing to serve, obeying every one of his orders and missions with brio and excellence. You were one of his most trusted officers with Karyn Faro. Nothing he could ask you would throw you off your rhythm or deter you.
You crossed paths pretty early in your respective careers. You were one of the first to recognize Thrawn genius and merit in warfare and followed him ever since, asking the chain of command to affect you with him on every ship he received the commandment of.
Your loyalty towards the Empire slowly melted into loyalty towards the Chiss. He never said anything, that he, himself, could fail and precipitate your end. That he could become your very death if your true colors were revealed.
But you were just so good at your job! He trusted you with his life and he worked to keep you both out of the blast radius. He needed your competencies and skills at his side.
But...
Maybe the Ascendancy needed you more.
He remembers.
The man, looking straight at him with cold detachment during his trial before disappearing in silence.
His Patriarch.
Single and alone.
Unstable, they would say.
How could he command the Mitth family in those conditions?
Thrawn somehow sympathises. He knew he could only rise so high in Chiss ranks as a mateless, that at some point his genius would stop carrying him and his mateless character would stop any further ascension.
They needed someone with something to lose in command.
Not an unstable like him.
And as freeing as it was for him to come into a system where mates were not the norm, he also realized long ago that he couldn’t change his home in any meaningful manner. That the mate order was here to stay.
But maybe he was also not the only one suffering in this system. Now that he has risen to the top he understands the pure loneliness and isolation that come with power, but if it is here to stay for him, he can maybe still lend a hand to that man.
It is not uninterested, far from that. It is purely strategic. Chiss politicians seemed to care a lot about the mating order, to the point that mateless individuals could get fired at any given moment in favor of a mated. And Thrawn remembers his History books, the fate reserved to mateless Patriarchs.
To those men and women who failed to conform to Chiss values and therefore weakened their families. And although he has no real good grasp of politics, he has no difficulties imagining that a weakened family of the nine could greatly destabilize the current system and the Chiss Ascendancy as a whole.
So if he sends you, his little miracle back home, maybe he could help stabilize the powers in place. That was risky, but beating the odds is his trademark after all.
Admiral Ar’alani discussed it with him lately, confirming that the Patriarch that sent him away was still in place, still mateless, still unstable, and therefore dangerous to the Ascendancy.
Thrawn could very well wait for him to fall and get replaced, but Ar’alani told him that he remained a very powerful blood Mitth. A powerful blood Mitth that would owe him a very, very huge debt if his plan worked. And he knows he will need all the allies possible when he gets back from exile to the Ascendancy.
So maybe
Just maybe
If he sends you to that man...
You may just be his ticket to more power and freedom to protect his people.
Honestly, he didn’t believe it at first when he met you. How could you, an individual from a mateless species, be compatible with a Chiss?
But his smell didn’t misguide him. Your scent and pheromones are highly specific and match his Patriarch’s profile.
By all means it was a crazy plan, but he already agreed with Ar’alani that she would take you on the Steadfast and guide you into the Ascendancy. As an Admiral without ties to any family, she will be able to give you access to the Mitth Manor by playing her cards right and he will give you his message, his “peace treaty” as Ar’alani called it.
That’s very much not his style and usual strategies but how could he survive in the long run if his tactics don’t evolve with the times?
“At ease, Commander. It is a very peculiar mission, that will need fineness, dexterity, and tact, but I trust you. I know you will rise to the challenge!”
“For you, I will!” You assured him.
‘For you’
If you were any of his other officers he would have chastised and corrected you in an exemplary manner! You were here to serve the Empire and not just a single Grand Admiral.
But your relationship evolved past that point long ago and he came to appreciate your devotion to his person.
And right now he hopes this devotion is as deep as he imagined it for you to accept this mission. Because this is not just a diplomatic mission. It is a life-changing mission.
Mating with someone isn’t a laughing matter to the Chiss and he knows full well you will go without knowing your true purpose.
He cannot reveal it to you.
You would say no.
Understandably.
And he does feel guilty to trap you in such a way, but he knows his time is limited in the Empire and he must prepare his return to the Ascendancy. And a willing Mitth Patriarch could ease a lot of difficult situations.
He remembers his discussion with Ar’alani a decade ago, about how he saw people as tools. He needs to see you that way to send you there, no matter the friendship that came to form between you two. He eases his guilt thinking this is not such a horrible fate for you, to become the Mitth Patriarch mate is to live free of worries and wants, in a comfortable home with sophisticated and cultured persons.
You will have it easy.
At least money-wise...
Ar’alani warned him of Commander Eli Vanto’s tepid welcome among his people and chances are you’ll get the same. He knows you can take it, he is more worried about the Patriarch’s behavior.
Will he ever accept a human as a mate? Will the Chiss accept a human as a Patriarch mate?
Your status as a diplomatic agent will protect you but as soon as you will set foot in the Manor, the Patriarch will understand and his reaction is unplannable.
But those who don’t try and take action get nothing!
“I need you for a diplomatic mission. A very, very long diplomatic mission...”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"State to me again. Why are you here?" The Chiss asks you.
You straighten your back and readjust your position on your chair. What doesn’t he understand ?
“I am here on behalf of one of your good friends. I bring you a message and an offering of peace and appeasement, he also asked for me to offer my service to you.” You repeat, controlling your tone to not sound condescending.
It is simple really.
The chiss, the ‘Patriarch’ looks at you intently, his hands clasped before his lower face, his burning red eyes fixing you like he was trying to disintegrate you. What’s annoying you is his manner of bringing a perfumed handkerchief to his nose every five minutes, like he was keeping a gag at bay. You took a shower and dressed in a freshly washed uniform, why does he act like you reek?
Does Chiss have more sensitive olfactive receptors? Does humans smell is that unnerving to other species? Thrawn never specified any such info to you.
“Because you think he is one of my… ‘Good friend’?” The Patriarch asks with a sneer.
“He is your fellow Chiss, and a Grand Admiral of a close power nation with sensitive information about the immediate survival of your Ascendancy. He considers it sufficient to demand you listen to his propositions."
The Chiss eyes fall back on their equivalent of a datapad, reading again what Thrawn proposed. You’re only the messenger with Admiral Ar’alani, Thrawn didn’t specify to you the intricacies of his proposition and wrote everything In Cheuhn, his mother tongue.
As the man reads again the terms of the treaty you take time to observe him in more detail. Tall, with deep blue skin, and burgundy red shiny eyes, despite being older than Thrawn he is dignified and haughty, clearly still having long decades before him as Chiss live longer than humans according to your Grand Admiral. His clothes are expensive with very intricate embroideries and multiple layers of pricey fabrics, the prominent red color seems specific to this family. Braided long hair in a sophisticated fashion, makeup enhancing the sharp Chiss features, now you know why Thrawn had the habit of underlining his eyes with red eyeliner… A single intricate ring, probably a family heirloom, proof of his role as head of the family.
So this is the man...
The one you promised Thrawn to serve, for ‘the good of both species and future diplomatic relationships’ as he put it. You silently sigh. You are doing it for him. For the genius that he is and his mission… You had all the time to question your sanity and why you accepted.
But you know why…
Because Thrawn’s gaze was clear and assured, and this could only mean one thing
Victory.
Thrawn warned you this mission could take as long as a year, if not more… way more. But you accepted nonetheless…
Well at least this ‘Patriarch’ isn’t displeasing to look at, it is your only consolation considering his bad temper. He never once was impolite but made absolutely no effort to make you feel welcomed and comfortable.
As a soldier, you don’t mind. As a diplomatic agent, his lack of concern is a red flag for the mission.
“Why you?" He asks out of the blue, eyes lazily raising back to meet yours, or rather to make you lower your head.
You don’t. You look straight into his burning gaze, unflinching. Is he asking why Thrawn sent a woman? His contracting throat muscles indicate his real mood, the little patience he has, and his true desire to have you walk away from there.
"Grand Admiral Thrawn trusts me.”
That’s litteraly the only reason he gave you. You could tell he had another reason, but what Thrawn wants to keep hidden, will remain hidden.
The Patriarch raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"I already conducted several diplomatic missions, I am…was his go-to officer for them and speak several wild space languages, like the one we are using now. I was the most suited for the job."
He sneers, your answer far from satisfying him.
“I am afraid that isn’t sufficient to be worth my time."
“I know your secret.”
Again, he raises an eyebrow.
“And what secret do you think you know exactly?” He inquires with a sadistic smile stretching his lips.
"How you travel through space. Without any Navigation computers. This secret.”
His smile vanishes instantly, an incredulous expression flashing on his face before melting in a controlled, but very much real, anger.
“You are lying.” He modulated his voice carefully, the tone is almost sweet with a note of poison.
You very sternly shake your head.
“Grand Admiral Thrawn took care to teach me. He wanted to make sure you would not send me back, not with my knowledge.” You plainly state.
His expression closes back in a detached, cold, and aloof expression. You cannot read him anymore.
“You are bluffing. He is an indiscreet and a fool, but he would not betray the secrets of our navy like that.”
You sigh, reaching the end of your patience.
“You use little girls with very rare capacities.” You let him know without a shadow of a doubt.
He closes his eyes slowly, taking in the information that yes, Thrawn did actually spilled the secret to you.
“You realize I could very simply have you executed and get done with all of this?”
“I am under the protection of Admiral Ar’alani and Supreme Admiral Ba’kif.”
You hear a faint growl emanating from him. Whatever happened between them, the Patriarch and the Supreme Admiral aren’t on good terms.
You try to smile politely.
“Come on Patriarch, are the mighty Chiss so terrified of one woman? I am but a messenger from one of your compatriots, only wishing to do good for our two nations. Take it as the opportunity to build privileged ties and bounds with a future powerful neighbor. Your family would be on the forefront of the scene and the negotiations.”
“Do not teach me how to do my job.”
“Far from me that idea.” You temper, “I am merely pointing out the benefices you could get by listening to the Grand Admiral.”
“You spoke so highly of your dear Grand Admiral. Learn that he left us with a terrible reputation and was sentenced to be exiled for treason. We do not give credit to his words or any of his peace offerings.” Once again, he takes his scented handkerchief to his nose and deeply inhales it.
“I am aware. He also contests those accusations but counts on your common sense to see the bigger picture.”
“I think we are finished here.” He stands haughtily, “I will ask Admiral Ar’alani to conduct you back to your Empire and your dear Grand Admiral.”
“I am going nowhere, Patriarch. He bestowed me this mission and his trust and I intend to honor both.” You stop him firmly.
He contemplates you with lassitude.
“Why going so far for him?”
“I trust him.”
“That cannot be the only reason.”
“To you, it may not be sufficient. To me it is. I learned to know him and I saw the grandeur of Great men in him.”
“How touching. Someone will escort you to the do-”
“I invoke the Protocol 39 of Chiss laws for diplomats.” You cut him.
This time you thought his head would really explode.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thurfian lets the fresh water roll on his skin.
He is absolutely fuming.
Where did you learn about that stupid protocol 39?! That damn law should get repealed urgently! A law offering asylum to alien diplomats who know about that particular protocol has no place in their books. It is a useless remnant of a past era of the Chiss Ascendancy when they were weaker.
But you knew about this protocol and invoked it out loud, and now he has to offer you protection...
He sighs.
Of course...
Ba’kif told you. It is the only possibility.
Whatever Thrawn planned, Ar’alani and Ba’kif are in leagues with him, leaving him all the mess to deal with.
What in tarnation Thrawn had in mind? Revealing one of the most dire secrets of the Ascendancy to a human? That Vento one wasn’t enough, he had to send another lost puppy to the Chiss. But this time he sent it to Thurfian.
He almost wants to laugh thinking back at that ‘peace treaty’ as you called it. Gibberish, unenforceable, naive. Thrawn learned absolutely nothing about politics during this decade. His true goal is so apparent and frankly Thurfian feels like he spat in his face.
Who does he think he is? And who does he think you are to even think this could work?
Him? Mitth’urf’ianico? Mating with an alien? Thrawn lost the last remnants of his foolish mind.
How would that even work? You humans have no mates, what did he hope would happen?
He gulps, his throat dry.
His own body hoped for something...
To his horror.
His dignity revulses at that thought, but his body awakened quite... brutally at the proximity of a compatible individual.
A young
Unmatched and single
Potential compatible individual.
He hates to admit it, but you are the prime example of a perfect Mate. A shame you are an alien, that spoils everything.
But his body, again, disagrees with his morals.
It only sees a potential, fruitful, and willing potential mate, ripe and ready for the harvest. His own body betrays him, desperate to get to know you better and pushing things to their climax.
It his demanding you, craving you, your scent, your voice, your touch...
It has been almost 6 months.
6 months of pure torture for him. Of his body feeling the presence of an available mate and entering fight mode to deter any potential rivals. 6 long, long months he tried to put the most distance between you two, keeping you as far away as possible, hoping it would ease his urges and cravings, only for his organisms to demand you harder, resorting to pain to force him to get closer.
6 months of him being hunted by lustful, disgusting dreams of you two together, waking him in a cold sweat, hard and shameful.
And you had to keep harassing him! In the name of your Warriordamn devotion to Thrawn you kept testing him every day. He has to hand it to you, you are dedicated.
He sees himself in you, back in his youth when he pursued lovers, the relentless chase, and the thrill of the hunt. But you have no idea of the true reason why Thrawn sent you here, to him. Would you have been a Chiss, he would have reveled in your insistence.
He tried everything to make you leave of your own will, to the subtle passive-aggressive ways to downright discrimination and hate. Anything to keep you far away. But you took it all, unflinching, dignified, keeping your head high in front of everything the Chiss threw at you.
He lowkey respects your attitude. He understands better what Thrawn saw in you and how you earned his respect and friendship. Not everyone would have held on before such treatments, he has met plenty of Chiss that would have chickened out long ago.
But you didn’t.
You remained, with your insufferable smugness and attitude, as infuriatingly spruce as ever.
And now he really has no ideas left to escape you and the temptation that you are for him.
He dreamed so much of dropping to his knees before you, kissing your hand reverently if you promised to be his and his alone, to devote yourself to him like you do with Thrawn, if you let him do what it pleased him to you...
He woke up horrified each time.
What other reaction was he supposed to have in front of such dreams?
Give in? Not a chance.
He remembers how he tried to push you out of his office the first day, your delicious smell was so overpowering he honestly thought he would pass out from his awakening urges. The last time he felt so... Alive was decades ago. He had to inhale his perfume handkerchief to limit the vertigos and baseless pulsions he felt pushing in his veins. He slammed the door once you exited his office, taking support on the wall to not fall to the ground with how he was trembling. He needed a long, icy cold shower after that.
You are no Chiss! How could you have such an effect on him?!
Did Thrawn knew?
Did he deduce that it was possible? Oh he really thinks he did Thurfian a favor, that he will be indebted to him.
But he just sent him a tormentor.
When Thrawn comes back
If
He comes back...
He will find Thurfian in the forefront of his detractors, ready to guide him to the pillory. He will find the exact opposite of what he tried to create.
Did he really think he would be able to come back untouched just because he sent him an alien to fuck? Thurfian remembers Thrawn having difficulties with relationships and socialisation but this is a real new low...
And to think he expects him to lower himself to you?! Him, the Patriarch of the Grand Mitth? Does he think he is desperate to find a mate? That he will accept anyone thrown his way? Even an alien?
He knew Thrawn had weird views but this one is an insult plain and simple.
He exits the shower to go down and eat breakfast with his family. Another long day ahead of him. Another load of pain waiting for him. He needs to get rid of you...
He needs to find a way. Any way.
He passes the large arches and his senses are immediately assaulted by your... obsessive scent. He swiftly takes support on the wall to not fall before the sheer power of your presence.
He REALLY needs to get rid of you, murder is still an option. It can still happen.
You are speaking with a member of the Mitth about something he does not care about. His first instance is to leave and climb back up in his suite, but that would be an admission of weakness on his part. That would be admitting you do have an effect on him, and he doesn’t intend on revealing that.
He already has enough problems like that. If Thrawn and his socially impaired character were able to deduce that you are compatible with him, then that means everyone in the Mitth Manor picked it up by now. He needs not to be a genius to know they all speak behind his back. And that’s also why he forbade you from leaving the Manor despite him trying to avoid you. He will not let the rest of the Ascendancy know one of his possible mates is a human.
Leaving the room right now would give them prove them right.
And that is not happening.
He takes his seat and takes out his questis to read today’s meeting and missions, ignoring you blatantly. He almost manages to focus and forget about everyone’s presence when he hears you laugh.
Cristallyne and melodious.
Delectable to hear.
So pleasing to his ears...
He deeply inhales to take back the upper hand but cannot help a guilty side glance in your direction.
You are radiant, smiling with a gleaming shine. You smile at another male, giving him your attention.
And that...
Infuriates him!
He mentally shakes his head, he needs to stop being so foolish but he cannot help the rising ire in his veins.
You are speaking an accentuated Cheuhn now. You made very great progress, proof of your brilliant intellect and willingness to serve him. And that accent is just soooo... Exotic and musical, just so pleasant to listen to.
He wants to listen to it for hours, he wan-
He chastises himself. He wants none of that. He is not jealous of that man. He does not dream about you every night.
This is not him.
This is his baseless urges and instincts speaking. Not his personhood.
He is way better than that. Way above that.
Way above you...
He would rather remain ‘the Mateless’ than associate with you. And prove Thrawn’s point.
This trial is far from over...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You silently walk in the corridors of the Manor. You don’t want to get spotted, Patriarch Thurfian would be heavily displeased if one of his guests spotted you. You just want to grab a snack anyway, you will not take long.
You listen to the music emanating behind the closed doors of the ballroom of the Mitth Manor, a very large party is taking place. You received explicit interdiction to appear, not that you wanted it anyway. You can hear the lively discussions and waves of laughter, this is a lively party. You reach the kitchens and start picking up in the dishes destined for the banquets.
A bit of this, a bit of that... You grab a fruit and head towards your room.
As you walk past one of the doors opens, letting you have a glance at the party. You have a sneaky look, only to cross gaze with Thurfian inside, looking straight back at you, frowning, ordering you to get the fuck out of here pronto. You scurry away, not wanting to get him on his nerves.
You’re not especially in the correct attire to be seen by all those guests. You are in your nightdress, ready to go to bed after your little snack, and you will really look out of place among those high-standard guests for sure.
You sigh, after a whole year here, Thrawn didn’t show up as promised. You knew it could take longer than what he told you, but you are almost a prisoner here, forbidden from leaving the manor altogether, your weapons and uniforms confiscated. They limited your contacts with Ar’alani and Ba’kif to a minimum. You had to fight tooth and nail to just have the right to own a questis.
Thurfian cannot bear to see you. He forbade you from approaching him entirely, but in every room you enter he seems to follow, only to look at you with disdain and horror and leave without a single word. You don’t know what his problem is but if he could have banished you to the other side of the Ascendancy, he would have done it.
Thank the Maker Admiral Ar’alani explained Thrawn’s plan to Supreme Admiral Ba’kif and he gave you that nice little trick with the protocols. Or it would have been a nice little trick if you could have accomplished your mission given by Thrawn, but in those conditions it is impossible.
‘Sorry my friend, I failed you for the first time’ you think bitterly.
“I told you they hide an alien!” A male voice raises behind your back.
You stop and spin on your feet to meet the disturbance of your peace. You met a group of four tall Chiss, looking at you up and down. Something in their demeanor displeases you immensely.
“And quite a looker! Look at that skin color, it looks so soft!.”
A fifth man appears behind your back, blocking the only other exit of the area.
“Where are you going like that, little one? You will need an escort, a lot of bad people roam around that kind of party.” One of them speaks casually as they all circle you.
“I thank you for your concern, good sirs. No need to bother with me, I am going away immediately.” You inform calmly, discreetly looking for an opening.
The situation is not yet dramatic, but with five men against you, you will be in severe difficulty.
“Mmmmh listen to that accent, it is absolutely lovely. Can you sing well too?” The one behind walked so close that he could grab a strand of your hair to wrap it around his finger.
You immediately slap his hand away.
“Careful man. She is feisty.” One snigger.
“I love them feisty.” He responds licking his lips, “Tell me girly, are you the pet of the house?”
“I am no one’s pet.” You growl.
The next one approaching will receive your fist in his teeth.
“A hottie like you, hidden away from the rest of the world like a secret... Someone wishes to keep you all for themself.”
You fight the desire to sigh loudly to their face.
“You are imagining things. Slow down the wine and let me pass, I need to sleep.”
“You can sleep with us if you want. We have the whole night ahead of us.” One of them grabs your hand and attempts to pull you away towards a darker room.
You throw your fist in his face, feeling something broke under your knuckles and hearing a growl of pain. The man is projected against the wall violently, under his comrades round eyes.
“You BITCH! Seize her!” He growls, his hand pressed on his bleeding nose.
They suddenly jump on you, grabbing your arms and clothes to tear them apart. You bite, claw, punch, and kick them back, giving them a hell of a hard time. But it is clear very soon that you will not win against five pissed-off opponents, not without a blade. And slowly fear settles in.
No one will hear you.
No one will save you.
No one wi-
A gunshot blasts in the air, stopping the commotion entirely.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He just had a bad feeling.
When he first smelled tea leaves, liquor, and honey he just felt ire in his veins, what the fuck were you doing around here? When he caught a glimpse of you between the two cracked open doors in your nightdress he felt his stomach tie itself in knots and his heart pumping faster.
He shot you with his gaze to make you get out! Away from him you devious temptress!
But when he saw this group of men leaving the ballroom right after you, he felt the ground opening under him.
He knows very well this kind of gaze they had. How many times him and his friends had to fight off creeps like them to protect their girlfriends back in the day? A lot. Too much.
Way too much.
He could not fight off the cold sweat rolling in the back of his neck when they walked past him with that deranged smile.
His hand unconsciously slid inside his inner tunic, feeling the cross of his personal Charric solidly attached in its straps. His head told him to stay in the ballroom, that aliens’ problems weren’t his.
But his heart told him that he couldn’t let such a horrifying act happen to any woman he knew, not under his own roof, not even to a pain in the neck sent by Thrawn, alien or not. His own morals couldn’t tolerate it!
And his instinct screamed at him to protect you specifically, his organism growing territorial and protective over you. You seem very well trained, and a part of him knows you are deadly with a weapon.
But he confiscated each and everyone of your weapons and sealed them away.
He even confiscated what you called a comlink. You will have no means to call for help. No one will hear your screams.
He put you in this situation!
And as that thought strikes his brain he realizes that he is furtively following the group of young men, his charric in hand. He doesn't see or hear them. He only has to follow your delicious scent..
He reaches a door and hears a moan of pain. A woman’s voice.
Your voice.
He sees red, all rational thoughts leaving his head. He kicks the door open and shoot a random mirror, dangerous glass shards exploding across the room.
They all stop.
You’re on the ground, nightdress torn apart, face bloody, limbs pinned to the ground with one of the creeps lying on top of you.
Your abusers turn toward him, their ears still ringing from the loud sound.
“Get off her.” He orders coldly.
“Patriarch Thurfian, what are yo-” Thurfian doesn’t let him finish and fires at the foot of the one speaking up, making him scream a pitiful wail of pain.
“Get.Off.Her. Or I shoot you down like dogs.” Thufian very calmly, very slowly, but very menacingly repeats.
He is dead serious he realizes. He has no idea who they are, they very well might be sons of important syndics or magnates, but he knows that if they don’t obey he will shoot them dead without any second thoughts about any of the consequences.
His gaze falls on you. You are in terrible shape and visibly terrified. His heart bleeds at such a sight...
He treated you terribly for an entire year to push you to the door and you took it with grace and determination, unsinkable. He never thought he would see such an expression on your face ever.
This fear in your human eyes is absolutely odious. He wants to get rid of it immediately.
Your attackers let you go reluctantly while the fifth is crying on the floor, holding his wounded foot. The one laying his disgusting body on top of you groans as he gets up, displeased that his fun is now ruined.
Do those types of men know no decency? No sympathy? No respect?
“Protecting your candy, heh?” The one on top of you chuckles, looking at him.
“What?” Thurfian snarls, heading the canon of his charric towards the chest of the impertinent.
“I smelled it on her.” He licks his teeth. Absolutely revolting, “What would the other Patriarchs say if they knew about her, I wonder?”
And suddenly, Thurfian’s anger subsides. His boiling blood turns into icy cold water in his veins and his mind gets clearer. His trembling hand shaking with fury steadies perfectly and he simply presses the trigger. The revolting man gets thrown back, hit in the chest. His friends jump and shout in surprise, incredulous that he dared fire his fellow Chiss over an alien.
Thurfian takes his comm out to ring his bodyguards as they look at their unconscious friend lying on the ground in a pathetic position.
In an instant, Chiss in uniforms enter the little salon, handcuff your attackers, and call an ambulance for the trash that got shot. Thurfian walks to the table. During the commotion you crawled in a corner of the room to put as much distance as possible between you and your assaulters.
You are trembling, knees pressed against your chest, your human skin soiled by your blood, almost naked in the cold room. He gets on one knee and detaches his Patriarch coat to pass it around your shoulder.
You shudder as his hand inadvertently brushes your shoulder. Look at you, terrified and lost.
And that is his fault. Only his fault.
Without a single word, he seizes your body and lifts you up bridal style. You yelp in surprise, looking at him with questions in your... gorgeous eyes. He carries you out of that room, without a single word for Thivick that just arrived.
Your scent reaches Thurfian nose again, and for the first time since you arrived in his manor, he indulges. He deeply inhales those delicate and harmonious notes.
His heart jumps in his chest as he feels you pressing yourself against him, huddling your wounded body against his, laying your head on his shoulder.
He should feel indignant. Revolted. Absolutely revulsed!
But the proximity feels comforting, it feels right. Like it was meant to be all along.
Did the Warrior himself placed you on his way? Did he remained mateless all of this time because he was waiting for you?
He doesn’t know. And frankly, he doesn’t care. Having you in his arms feels like the only good thing that happened to him in a long, long time.
He has a lot of explaining to do. But first, dressing your wounds.
He enters the infirmary and lays you in one of the beds. The medic stands up to start the treatment but Thurfian simply pulls the curtain, isolating both of you from the rest of the world. He washes his hands and washes your face delicately with a wet cloth.
You wince in pain, you received several blows that tore the skin apart in several places, and bruises of a variety of colors are already flourishing on your human skin.
“I am terribly sorry, (Y/n).” He simply says.
What else can he say after such an aggression? What words could comfort a victim?
“They will be brought on trial. They would not go unpunished.” He assures you.
You sniff with disdain, not believing his promise for a second.
“You all say that each time that it happens, but nothing gets done.”
“You have my word. With the testimony of a Patriarch, they will not be able to escape justice.” He tries.
You huff again, pushing his hand away.
“Why would you even do that? You made it very clear I was not welcomed anywhere in the Chiss Ascendancy, especially in your presence. Why shoot one of you for a ‘mere human’?”
He can feel the pain in your voice, how it twitches your features, how you gulp with difficulties.
‘Because I am physically incapable of seeing you suffer.’ are the first words popping into his mind and he almost says them out loud before biting his tongue.
But this is the truth. The fear he felt when he saw you in danger, the urge to tear those men’s eyes out of their sockets for just breathing weirdly in your direction, the absolute desperation when he saw your eyes widen in horror and fear.
He had to fight his attraction and desires towards you the entire year for him to shoot a man down at your first trouble. He hid behind the pretension that it was only his instinct getting desperate to not find a proper mate that they were desperate to settle with anyone, even a lowly alien.
But seeing you in this state makes him feel so guilty. He could have made your stay pleasant, welcomed you properly, and shown you the wonders of Chiss culture. But he locked you inside the Manor and limited your contacts with the outside world out of fear.
That they would know that you were made for him.
He could have made it easy for everyone and even facilitated future diplomatic relationships with humans like you proposed when you arrived.
But no. He had to act like a child and now look at the results...
“Because it is my job to protect guests under the Mitth roof.” He answers, muzzling the truth. “I will make sure it will not happen again.”
“I do not believe you.”
“I shot a man for you tonight.”
You turn your head away from his red gaze. He feels the urge to dive in the crook of your neck and kiss it, his body wants to hug you close and make sure you are safe.
But maybe...
This isn’t just his body speaking.
Maybe it is simply him too...
He wants to kiss your lips and swallow your pain and fear for you to only know peace and serenity in his arms.
He won’t, obviously. You are in shock, now is not the time for romantic advances.
“You could have just sent me back to Thrawn... You did not want me here anyway, why not allow me to go back to him?” You ask, fighting back sobs.
Now that things are settling down your body needs to evacuate the tension and stress of the aggression.
So you start crying.
Stabbing his heart deep.
‘Because I couldn’t let you go...’ He thinks with a sigh, realizing it as the thought crosses his mind.
He disinfects and dresses your wounds in silence, letting you cry to your heart’s content before sitting down and taking your hand in his, squeezing it gently.
“Things will change from now on. I will give you back your weapons and uniforms, I will let you explore Csilla as you wish, and I will arrange a rendezvous with Ba’kif and Ar’alani. If you wish to go back to Thrawn, I will set you free...”
His hearts bleed at those words because he knows he wants the exact opposite as he is proposing it to you.
“But if you wish to remain and finish your mission, I would appreciate sharing a cup of tea with you, one day at your convenience. I want to know you better...”
And a little more he hopes.
Maybe one day you’ll forgive him.
Maybe one day you will hold his hands and call him yours.
He will wait, as long as it takes...
@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037
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Pastiche
Summary: You and Arthur escape through writing.
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!Reader
Word Count: 2,345
Trigger Warning: Tuberculosis, death
Tags: angst, sadness, high honor Arthur
a/n: Thanks for you kind words on Chiaroscuro. I've enjoyed writing again so much! I'm in my tragedy era. My hs english teacher's voice haunts me when I'm writing, so I spent a lot of time scrutinizing this. Didn't mean for it to be so long, but I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
pastiche: a work of art or literature that imitates the style or character of another, often as an homage or tribute.
You knew there was something special about Arthur Morgan the day you met him. Despite his best efforts to believe otherwise, he was easy on the eyes, and his dry humor combined with his strong sense of honor sealed your crush on the cowboy. Everybody else could see that he was sweet on you, too, noticing when he pulled you to sit at the fire with him or how he watched you around camp. As more time passed, you'd become mostly inseparable, taking every moment you had to sneak away together. One of your favorite places to escape to was the fields of Little Creek River in Big Valley. You'd be reading a book and glance over to find Arthur staring intently at an animal until it was out of sight. Then he'd open up his journal and sketch it. He wasn't doing that today, though. He was staring across the field, but you could tell he was elsewhere in his mind.
"Got somethin' to say," his eyes met yours earnestly. When he told you he loved you, a laugh erupted deep from your belly. Dumbfounded, he asked, "The hell is so funny?" his own laugh betraying his attempt to be solemn. It was hilarious to you that he didn't think you already knew that and that he didn't know you absolutely felt the same.
Another day, you were lying in Arthur's lap in the grass. Just the day before, he had returned to camp with bruised knuckles and some poor fool's blood on his face—one of Strauss's clients. You longed for a life where bruised knuckles and loan sharking were distant memories.
"Where would you be if you weren't here," you'd asked, holding his hand in yours. He stroked your thumb with his and gazed over the valley like always.
"Hard to imagine." He mumbled, sounding far away.
You nodded in agreement and replied, "You're always writing or drawing in your notebook. Maybe you could've been an artist or a writer." The thought brought a soft smile to your face, and you imagined, just for a second, a life where Arthur's biggest worry was perfecting his latest masterpiece.
He huffed in dry amusement, "Probably wouldn't have known how to read if it weren't for Dutch and Hosea."
You assented again and sighed, the smile on your face growing wider.
"Arthur Morgan: author and illustrator." You held your hands up in dramatic fashion as if envisioning the words in front of you. Then you untangled yourself from him and sat up, "You could, you know? It's not too late. Maybe a biography?"
"A story about my life, huh?" He looked at you with a dumb smile, "I think a book about dirt would be more interestin'." He bobbed his head up and down as if nodding made his thought more true. You shoved him playfully, and he raised his eyebrow at you and held out his hands questionly. "What? There's all different kinds of dirt," he started counting on his fingers." Brown dirt, red dirt, hard dirt—"
You cut him off, "I'm serious, Arthur! This life…it ain't one normal folks live." A shit-eating grin crept up his face as he fought not to make another joke at his own expense. He shoved it down and kept listening. "Sure, it's just your life to you, but other people might find it interesting, exciting, even."
He thought for a second, then put his hands in the air, mimicking you, "The Confessions of Arthur Morgan: The Detailed Life of a Gunslinger by Arthur Morgan. Sounds like a Pinkerton's wet dream."
"I see what you mean," you trail off, fingers playing in the grass. "Could change the name. People publish under a different name all the time. There's a word for that, I think."
"Pseudonym," he responded, his accent thick. "Think it's got one of those silent letters in front." He said it so matter of factly, and it confirmed what you already knew about him: he was far more intelligent than anybody ever gave him credit for. Still, you left the idea alone and thought Arthur had, too.
Then, on another afternoon in the fields near Little Creek River, he spoke out of nowhere. "Arthur Callahan or Tacitus Kilgore?"
"Hmm?" you asked, barely glancing up from your book.
"For the pen name," he confirmed, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
From that day on, your trips to Little Creek River became writing sessions. He bought a notebook that you two would trade off, coming up with ideas for the dramatized life of the gunslinger. You'd taken some creative liberties, and the story wasn't exactly a biography anymore. It had shaped into a Western love story. Arthur Callahan, after living a bad life, met someone who made him want to be better, an angel sent to rescue the devil himself. Arthur Callahan would get the perfect ending; a normal life. It was all Arthur's idea.
"It's not my story; it's ours," he'd told you.
You had been daydreaming about the possibilities for your novel for some time, but the chaos of life with the gang left little room to focus on it. The sudden move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point made things worse. Somewhere in the move, the manuscript was lost or destroyed—either way, it was gone. You couldn't hold back your tears during your next trip to Big Valley. Arthur's big hands swallowed your face as his thumbs wiped your tears away.
"Shhh, we'll rewrite it, sweetheart," he promised.
Despite Arthur's gentle nudges, you couldn't find it in you to rewrite the story. Another day, he'd invited you to ride with him, heading off to your usual spot. He'd asked once more if you were feeling up to writing again. When you rejected the idea, he shook his head, seemingly surrendering.
"Fine! You're so damn stubborn." There was no malice in his voice, though, and his eyes twinkled a little. "Looks like I gotta take matters into my own hands." Instead of stopping the horse in the fields as usual, Arthur stopped short, cutting into nearby woods. Eventually, he halted outside of the small cabin that was Vetter's Echo and hitched the horse outside.
"Come on," he said, helping you down. "I've got a surprise for you." You walked up the cabin's steps, and he swung the door open to a small living quarters. "It don't got a back door, and I'm pretty sure the feller living here got mauled by a bear, but it's got one of these things." He gestured to the desk in the corner of the small cabin, a typewriter sitting atop it, "I don't have the first clue about using it." So he left it for you to figure out. He'd sit on a stool beside you, reading from a notebook, and you'd type slowly at first, but as time went on, the keys felt as familiar to you as a gun trigger did to him.
Then things started falling apart. You'd moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point, then to Shady Bell in a matter of weeks. The men went on a job to rob the bank in St. Denis, and most didn't return. You'd forgotten about the manuscript while trying to survive and spent weeks worried about Arthur and everybody else.
Then he came home to you, waterlogged but alive. You'd never felt more relieved. He was skinny and had a persistent cough, blaming it all on his rough journey. But it didn't stop him from finishing the book as promised. He'd write whenever he had a chance, and you'd go back to the little cabin in the woods, you typing and him reading.
Then he couldn't get through a page without coughing. You listened, concern etched on your face as he told you about his coughing spell and subsequent visit to the doctor in the city. Tuberculosis: practically a death sentence. After that, he'd step back when you tried to be close to him and wouldn't let you kiss him or be intimate with him. You spent a lot of time crying while he dipped his head in profound shame.
Weeks later, he woke you up at night, gently shaking you and whispering to not alert anyone else. "C'mon, get dressed and ride with me." He was serious, his jaw set, his voice low but demanding. You didn't know what was wrong, but dread ran through your veins. You rode far away from camp, mostly in silence, your anxiety not letting you say anything.
"You're gonna live a good life. "he finally said, breaking the silence. Your eyes stung, and you felt a lump in your throat.
"I don't want to hear this right now, Arthur."
He shook his head, frustrated, and spoke through clenched teeth. "Listen to me." His tone made you flinch. He'd never taken on that tone with you, ever. "This whole thing with Dutch, it's over. You gotta run. Gotta get out and make a good life for yourself."
You wanted to protest; you weren't going to leave him, not now. But then you saw the waiting stagecoach up ahead. Your heart dropped and shattered into a million pieces. You reached around him to pull the horse's reins, coming to a skidding stop. You hopped down and started shaking your head, frantic in your movements and words.
"No, Arthur. No."
You wiped away the quickly falling tears as you turned, fast walking, almost running back to that godforsaken camp that was Beaver Hollow. Even in his sickness, it only took Arthur a few big steps to reach you, grabbing you by the waist and turning you to face him. And then you cursed at him, pounded your fists against his chest, and wailed into the night. He just pulled you close to him, squeezing you until you didn't fight anymore. He gave you a stack of cash, made you promise to run, and said he'd come find you after it was all over. But both of you knew, deep down, that you were setting eyes on each other for the last time. He kissed your head. You sobbed into his chest, only letting go when the impatient stagecoach driver beckoned you.
"Never could've imagined I'd know somebody as perfect for me as you." All you could choke out was, "I love you," over and over and over again. He slipped a folded letter into your hand and helped you into the coach filled with your things. He stood silently with his hat in his hands while you rode off into the night. You sobbed for as long as your body let you while the coach took you down to Copperhead Landing.
First, Tilly showed up with Jack, and then Sadie came with Abagail. But then John arrived bearing Arthur's hat and satchel with a look in his eyes so terrible that it brought you to a screaming sob. That night, when everybody had finally settled down to sleep, you slipped away, leaving a note of thanks and well wishes. You were alone then, the way you wanted it to be without Arthur.
Eight years; it had been eight years since everything went to shit. In eight years, you worked your ass off with any odd jobs you could find. Keeping busy was how you cured your broken heart. You'd tried as hard as you could to forget about the life you'd once lived until you read a headline in the newspaper: MICAH BELL KILLED. The memories flooded back to you, and you returned to a place you hadn't visited in a while. You only kept 2 things from that time: a letter from Arthur and the manuscript you'd written with him. Forged in Fire, you called it. After all this time, you couldn't remember who came up with the name, but you remembered why. You two were like tempered metal; the more you walked through hellfire, the stronger you became.
Then there was Arthur's letter. You'd read it only once before today.
"Things I wanted to say but did not have the courage to say aloud." was scrawled across the top of the page, followed by a list.
"Keep visiting Big Valley.
Keep writing.
Publish the book.
Watch every sunset.
Trust your gut.
Please, be happy."
You heard his voice through every word. He'd underlined the third point: publish the book. In that moment, you decided to take a leap. You wrote to a publisher and sent a copy of the manuscript. And that's all it took. Things went into a tailspin after that, and before you knew it, you were holding a hard copy of the manuscript you and Arthur had worked on together all that time ago.
You'd made an effort, then, to find Abigail and John and Jack. They were held up at a ranch, Beecher's Hope, and were married now. You caught up with the Marstons and apologized for hastily disappearing all those years ago. They were happy for you, and you for them.
On your departure, John took your hand, "I don't talk about him much these days, but I don't think he loved anybody like he loved you." He paused for a moment and forced his eyes to meet yours. "He's buried out in Ambarino, near Donner Falls. Top of the mountain. I can take you." You declined John's offer but set out east toward Donner Falls the next day.
You found him around noon and watched wistfully as an eagle flew from its spot on a rock behind the flowery grave. You fell to your knees, no longer able to control the tears flowing down your face. "I did it, my love," you choked through tears. It'd been a long, long time since you let yourself feel this pain—a longing to reach something impossible. You dabbed the tears away from your eyes and sat in the grass, hugging Forged in Fire to your chest. "Thought I'd read it to you," you spoke into the air. You opened the book, cracked the spine, and read "Chapter One: Heaven's Fall, Hell's Rise."
#i like coming up with fancy words for titles#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur#read dead redemption 2 photography#rdr2 photography#rdr2#rdr2 community#Arthur Morgan x gn!reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x male reader#arthur morgan fan fiction#arthur morgan fanfiction#arthur morgan angst#arthur morgan fic#rdr2 fanfic
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I have realized that my awkwardness allergy comment the other day may have come off the wrong way, so in an attempt to remedy that I'm gonna list everything that was SO GOOD about the last chapter.
Niffty getting a "disguise". What little description you gave I imagine her twirling in an Alice-style pinafore. Now I wanna draw American McGee Niffty, blue dress and bloody knife. Also the Cherub being so accepting and nice to her? Great.
Emily. Just everything about Emily, I love her. Especially with Lucifer. I adore her being super chill about him fucking up her name and I need more of that in this fandom. EMILY & LUCIFER BONDING!!! And her genuinely calling him beautiful and him not getting it? Ow my fucking heart. Even more when Alastor seems to notice Lucifer doesn't get it and I just imagine him being struck by a hint of jealousy at the compliment, and then immense frustration that Lulu is so clearly oblivious to how lovely he is. Delicious.
Alastor having boosted Lulu's confidence in his wings? Alastor KEEPING THE FEATHER? T^T Also I lose my shit every time you bring something back from previous chapters. Not enough people do that shit in their writing and it is wonderful.
Alastor being absolutely haunted by Angel's little comment lol. All while knowing that Lucifer, while likely aware of the implication, was not at all thinking about it when he did it. This being of Pure Temptation having the most innocent thoughts behind a perceived lewd act is amazing and adorable and I fucking love it.
Them bickering over ice cream because Alastor is a little shit I love how dumb they are.
Angel's FUCKING ACRONYM lmao because he would.
Alastor being comfortable enough overall with Lucifer to be willing to pretend to make out with him in public despite wanting to crawl out of his skin at the concept? iofhihisifoishuoisdh
How goddamn smooth Lucifer is when putting on a performance of seduction. He is THE Original Temptation and I love it. And him still being mindful of Alastor's comfort and not actually kissing him? AAAAAAAAA 1000% better than if he'd actually kissed him this gives me life. Beauty incarnate in words.
Lucifer finding Alastor's anxious-unxperienced-yet-smooth flirtation incredibly hot and then being startled by the thought despite, y'know, everything else that's happened. XD Can't blame him since the number of relationships he's had can be counted on one hand if not one finger, but he's so internally oblivious I cannot.
"Have you been doing this with other people?" Alastor actually being somehow surprised that this millennia-old, gorgeous, adorable eldritch being, known for THE first temptation into sin, fucks? Despite the blatant evidence in Charlie's existence? And being upset about it? And additionally feeling like he needs to know about Lucifer's sexual history for...reasons? Possessive much? XDDDD
And then being stunned silent at the suggestion and likely realization that he is, in fact, jealous, and probably still not knowing why? And Lucifer's oblivious teasing and then absolute confusion and awkwardness when Alastor DOESN'T DENY IT UGH had me kicking and screaming like a teenage girl.
And again, I'm hyper-sensitive to awkward so me being uncomfy isn't unexpected when Lucifer is by nature an awkward little bean. It can be a sign he's being written well! And your writing is so good that I keep coming back and I'm hoping I'm building up a tolerance. That would be good for me. ^^; I look forward to every Friday for this!
Anyway, hope you're having a marvelous day and you know your worth, that worth being AMAZING. okaybai
Aw were you worried? Thank you so much, I appreciate you clarifying your thoughts!
I love Emily, definitely want more of her! And THANK YOU, I have a million references to previous chapters - as I was trying to compile them into my Fun Facts section it just got too long so I couldn't include them all haha.
I'm a romantic so I want their first kiss to be really beautiful and meaningful!! Super thankful for your message. Very sweet of you 🥰
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carry me out.
jean kirstein x reader , modern a.u.
summary ; you've let your predetermined, statistical thoughts on being loved carry you out for a long time. maybe you realise that jean should be an exception.
warnings ; HUGE trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, especially in the beginning. overall very angsty, but slight comfort at the end. no pre-existing relationship, only the indications of one. underage (?) alcohol consumption (please be safe n responsible with alcohol!)
a/n ; finally wrote a fic after like a month lmao im so sorry. a) for being gone so long and not updating my other fics but also b) returning with another heavy one. no promises if this is me coming out of my haitus, though, i still have end-sem submissions to worry about. everything has been hell but hey atleast im alive! anyways, as always, enjoy! also if you ever need anyone to talk to, im always here. please know that. youre not alone!
taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kiernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes (please feel free to skip this story, even if you are tagged, if it's too heavy for you!!)
huge thank you to @raazberry my absolute favouritest person for beta reading this :3
masterlist is in pinned post ✿ enter my taglist! ✿
You weren’t going to live past the next three years.
You knew this – it was written in your teary-eyed thirteen year old self’s note to a much older you, “if youre still the same after everything and you still feel like this all the time, then why keep trying? If youre not happy in somewhere outside of your head, then why keep living? Do you really want to live past 24?”
The letter may have been written against your better judgement, and you could still feel the cold of your marbled bathroom tiles and the too-bright florescent light above your head as you tried to stop your hand from shaking, but you lived by it. In all reality, your hopes were dwindling, and this misshapen version of you that sat infront of the mirror looked more like a smudged charcoal drawing instead of your face. You didn’t know how or why it was the way it was, but you had to live with this, live with the burnt and shaky outline of yourself thanks to the years you spent with your light still ablaze.
you sigh. Its all you know how to do.
The door knocks and you shift from your mirror to the source. Your heart skips a beat and everything lulls into a low hum.
“hey,” he says, with your name on his tongue as if he’s kept it there for years. “we were thinking about going out now that midterms are over. You wanna join?” he asks, his thumb pointing to the invisible invitation outside of your room.
You blink, humming the semblance of what you’d call love in your mind. “maybe. What’s in it for me?” you ask. A smile graces your face and it doesn’t feel that foreign.
He pretends to think, humming out the same tune that played in your head every waking moment, his voice a low and calm tide. “free food?”
You breathe out a laugh. This bit doesn’t feel like a play, it doesn’t feel like a script with big block letters and directions and your name written in all caps. It feels normal. It feels foreign.
“don’t tell sasha, though.” He says, pointing a finger at you with a loose fist.
“I make no promises.” You really don’t.
“well, then, you should."
Maybe you would.
Connie’s laughter would usually be described as an annoying 11 year old’s, but today, it offered you comfort like ice against a bruise, and marco would usually be described as a worried father, but his warmth was appreciated when he held the door open for all of you to walk in. sasha was already inside, chatting with her boyfriend who couldn’t be more happy to look at her with his chin resting on his palm and a soft smile on his face. Sasha’s animated voice could usually be described as the babbling of a child, but today it offered to be the noise that you craved. She was dressed well, with a bow tied gently into her hair and you wondered how you got this lucky to be half-present in the light of these fools.
Jean was always next to you, always to your left, always silently giving you his secretly undivided attention. Even as connie got another round of drinks for the table, even when sasha ate all the fries that were supposed to be shared, even when marco, ever the extrovert, went to mingle with friends from his other classes, even as niccolo held sasha’s hair back when she entered an unsaid drinking competition with Mikasa and her unshaken record, he was there. To your left, looking at his right with a warmth and gentleness that would’ve shaken you had you noticed it.
There was chatter. There was always noise, something to occupy your mind, as you played with the condensation on your glass, silently waiting for connie to shout out another drink that he presumed youd enjoy. To his credit, you did enjoy them, but maybe downing them in one go wasn’t the best idea if you truly wanted to savour them, and if the attention you were getting from your left wasn’t so alert, you’d have left this bar a long time ago.
And this didn’t mean any harm to your friends. Of course not, they couldn’t help but be the sun. they couldn’t help being this all consuming light that couldn’t stop itself from touching and spilling onto any surface it could find. Truly, you loved them for it like how you loved the sun – from a distance, looking at it through squinted eyes because you were afraid of it’s beauty. No, it wouldn’t be their fault that you were too much of a coward to feel what they offered to everyone without the hesitation you had.
“this is the part where you tell me what’s on your mind.” Jean says from beside you, memorizing a script you weren't aware of. theres a chord in your mind that rings out as he does, beginning an unfinished song that would continue on for as long as you lived.
You hum. It gets lost with the increasing sound of the song in your head and around you. shaking your head, you say something that’s unconvincing to your already deaf ears. “nothing,”
His palms slide over your wrist, covering up the embarrassment your pulse brings to yourself with a softness that doesn’t fail to shake you this time, noticing the way he looks around the place youre in – a bar? Youre not sure. You haven’t been sure where you ever were – and stops as he finds one. He gives you a once-over and leads you to the haven he’s scanned around for. he refuses to remove his hand from your wrist and some small or large or whatever-is-remaining part of you wants him to keep it there until your body evolves to accommodate his skin on yours.
You wonder how he feels. For the first time in a while, you wonder what it feels like to live outside of your head, outside of your own whatever-is-remaining body, outside of the stripped bare bones with pieces of meat stuck on it after charred teeth having gorged upon it night and day for twenty years. Does he see you that way? Could he stand to see the state you had yourself in, an unholy and unceremonious shrine to yourself, with nothing but the most minutest proof of your existence instead of everything you’d always wanted to become? Or does he see you as something that remains standing despite it? Would he see you as just that- the proof of the proof?
“there we go. No more noise.” He says decidedly and you’d agree a thousand times over. The chord he plays still reverbs through the empty nest of your chest and you agree – its as present as the noise of silence.
You hum again. You have no words to say. He doesn’t let go of your wrist and you pretend not to notice, just as he does. His fingers are calloused and weathered under unsaid conditions but you hope its because of love. It’s a large word to say, to think and to feel but you’ve long since forgone the formalities of having to speak. In your head, all words mean the same and nothing at the same time.
“saw a cat today.” He says. In your head, you agree.
This means something. Each word he says has its own representation, its own grip and handle on you instead of it all being everything.
You lean against something solid. Only then do you realise youre at a rooftop – climbing the stairs wasn’t registered when you spent your time staring at your beloved’s back, observing how his shirt moved over his skin with every consequential step, every meaningful breath. You became even more blind to the bodies of people that were a thousand times more present than you.
Only then do you realise the brightness of the city lights under you. the building you were on didn’t look all that tall, but it seemed taller than the rest. There were people there, being alive, breathing their own air and their own sound as yours made none. You let jean’s breathing be enough for the two of you until you’d find the dormant strength in yourself to find your own.
“brown and ginger fur. It was this tiny-“ he says. You throw him a glance because youre afraid looking at him for more than that would leave you with no choice but to keep burning, and his hands cup an invisible ball-like shape. You smile, looking back at the distant windows that carry their hopes into the night sky. “If I see it again, im gonna name it cookie.” He says.
Your smile grows gentler under the curtain of your fingers that are curled up against your lips, your chin on your palm. You wonder then, again, how he sees you. do you seem uninterested? You don’t mean to be, and he should know, but you don’t have the courage or the guts to let him know otherwise. Your words will get jumbled by the time you decide to regurgitate it, they’ll spill out of you in a blurring mess. You’ll end up having to say your name thrice to believe youre still here, if at all.
He's silent. His shoulder brushes against yours and you feel this like a script of a play – written in big block letters with his name signed over it, written in the brackets because its something that needs notice.
HES BRUSHING YOUR SHOULDERS LIKE HE ALWAYS IS, and youre an idiot because you think it makes you yourself. In a bracket, its specified with your name on top in big block letters – HE SEES YOU.
When you turn your head to that god-awful, all consuming left side again, he does. He sees you and you decide that now is a good time to return back to the whatever-is-remaining body again. Your bones shake with the song that keeps playing when he’s around and maybe the hopefulness of the open window lights of the city before and after you carries your hopefulness with it.
Maybe the light that his eyes reflect can carry out your silent grief with him. Maybe the burden you hold over yourself for so long – the one that you’ve gnawed and scratched and kneeled and digested over – maybe this all consuming shake in your body could use some pre-written and pre-determined accompaniment.
He doesn’t say anything. Whatever his script is, he doesn’t follow it. Maybe its his silence that speaks more about you than you could fathom for yourself. He carries out your grief and takes it for what it is – the proof of all of your love. He carries it out in his eyes, in his hand that is calloused because of words he hesitates to speak and carries in his fist, hidden behind his back. Only now, hes thankful for this silence. You understand it better than anyone, he thinks.
The big block letters in all caps overweigh the desperate letter you wrote to yourself when you were thirteen. He shift beside you, HIS ARM IS AROUND YOUR SHOULDERS AND HE’S HUGGING YOU NOW and youre a little hopeful now. Youre a little hopeful that your longing has a partner. That your teeth can still be capable of letting go. That your tongue is capable of saying “thank you,” muttered against the warmth of his chest and his too-weak left side that carries his heart flutters against itself and he’s glad for how weak his left side is. He’s glad he feels your words ten times over because of it.
Whatever this script is, whatever dialogues are written and edited and predetermined are either being fulfilled or being gone against. You don’t care. You have the time to read it later. You have the choice to never read it ever again.
He holds you. your words don’t muffle because he hears you.
He hears you, and this is not a compulsion. Its not written in the script, no, loving you has always meant breaking the rules, loving you has always meant going against the forces of the nature that shaped you. jean didn’t seem to care much for rules, anyway.
#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein x reader#aot#jean kirstein x you#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#jean kirschtein#marco bodt#sasha braus#connie springer
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I think it's time to move on....
I have made a decision that was very difficult for me to accept even though it sounds very silly, Since I really didn't want to do it but for different reasons I have to...
I won't give you too much trouble and think about it so much, I'm leaving the WH Fandom, but please don't take this the wrong way, it's because really... I'm already very tired of everything, I'm tired of them inventing things about me, calling me very names... controversial
I have received very cruel and rude messages in my inbox, calling me "X" thing or calling me in the worst ways that a person can be judged... just for writing and drawing a dark story, Because it is The only thing that attacks me is not for anything more serious... just for freeing myself creatively
People... I know that some may notice it, others not so much, but I am an extremely shy and quiet person, it really is difficult for me to talk to new people or do new things, that is why I am almost a living grave because of the directions of my social networksor internet in general. Since I only focus on publishing my art, commenting on a few things and that's it! That's all I can do in my case
But I don't think even I have socialization problems... People can't stop bothering me, right?
I had already had problems with many users before trying to cancel me in the Fandom for my story... but this is the last straw. I'm already tired of being stressed about this shit, because I'm not really a bad person or I even do something bad
It's just that people love to judge someone who really doesn't deserve hate, since on the one hand they don't know them and on the other they only judge the person for their work when in reality they reject this type of actions, in this case the second way... it affects me too much
So I'll say it in a way that's not so rude, I'm sick of all those idiots who talk without even thinking a little about their words full of shit and contempt, so I just want to leave it alone and I'll officially leave this Fandom that's became extremely toxic....
I want to find the peace and pleasure of being in a Fandom where people appreciate what you do for the love of the work
I no longer want to continue seeing how people kill each other for so many bad things... For my part, I no longer want to be seen as a pest or a threat even though I never did anything wrong...
I hope to be better received in other Fandoms where my interest is extremely high! and that you continue to support me in my future projects
I thank all of you who have supported me in my art... I don't want you to worry either, I won't stop drawing! I just don't want to be in this horrible Fandom anymore -
Anyway, I'll leave the nonsense aside, Thank you all for everything you have done and for reading this far
👋❤️ ¡See you soon! ❤️👋
#meganixart#I think it's about time#my art#fandom#welcome home#thanks for reading#my stuff#Thanks to everyone for your support :3#Don't worry#I'm fine!#toxic fandom#my artwrok
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Rising Tides (Chapter 2)
A lot of you guys liked the first one, so I quickly wrote this one just to clear up the cliffhanger on the first part hah~ (Sorry not sorry) But, hope you guys enjoy because I really like these characters and plan on actually doing more drawings of them!
Word Count: 4.3k
CW: Mentions of death, Description of Death (Doesn’t actually happen), I think that’s it but if not you guys tell me!
2- Nico
I didn’t know where I was going. The last thing I remember seeing were a pair of blue eyes and then nothing. Now, I was being taken somewhere in the fist of this giant freaking mer that’s taken me as a snack. How do I know? Oh well, what else feels soft and sort of squishy when you were just in a cave? A hand. So no here I was, in the midst of a panic attack while also trembling so much I was so sure that this mer kidnapping me could feel it. I mean, it wouldn’t be surprising.
The water around me was moving, which was the only indication that I wasn’t going to die just yet. Were they saving me for later? There has to be some way out of this. I couldn’t stop the panicking thoughts in my mind. I didn’t want to die. At least not yet. I didn’t even know how long we’ve been moving. Hours? Days? Something like that.
My tail fin was still torn, but I’d bet if I really tried I could swim. Just not as fast. Would it be enough to escape this mer? Probably not but it was worth a shot. I didn’t really get a good look at how bad the tears were in the dark cave, but I’m sure it’ll heal on it’s own in just a couple days. Hopefully. That’s if I can get out of here.
I felt us stop moving, making me press my back into the flesh behind me and try to make myself seem smaller. Where were we? I couldn’t see anything but the purple scales that came from my own tail.
“Haven’t seen you in a while-“ The voice stopped abruptly, “Want to explain?”
“A shark was chasing a mer, I couldn’t be there in time before the shark got ahold of the little guy, and here we are now.” It sounded like a tired voice. It was louder too. I held my breath when the hand opened up, leaving me entirely out in the open. My eyes darted all over the place. There was a tiny little reef in an underwater ravine looking thing, along with some things that looked like another mer was living there. Just some feet in front of me was a mer just a little taller than a human, with a dark green tail, eyes, and dirty blonde hair that somewhat covered his eyes. Who was this?
My eyes looked around, trying to find the face that connected to the mer that was still holding me (Oh my gosh please let me go I don’t feel so good right now-) But I’ve never seen a mer as big as he was. And that just made me all the more terrified. I was maybe the size of his fingernail, if I was lucky.
Dark blue eyes were trained on me, instantly making me bite back the scream I wanted oh so badly to let out. I stuffed my tail closer to my side, tryin got hide that I was hurt, but I’m sure he already knows. But does he know how badly? Maybe I can somehow trick him? It was a long shot, but I’m pretty sure I could.
The mer holding me looked away and turned towards the other mer that was studying me. I couldn’t help but catch the white tuff of hair in his brown hair. That was weird. Not the thing I should be worried about though. The green-tailed mer swam up to me, catching sight of my torn tail fin and sighed, shaking his head.
“You’re not going to be able to swim for a long while, little mer.” He gestured for him to see more and I couldn’t help but listen. Why was this one helping? Did he have the big mer under control? Was he somehow controlling him into not hurting either of us? What was going on! Seriously!
I stared down at my torn fin, seeing really just how much damage there was. Nearly all the thin pieces of skin were torn off, and the webbing was almost all torn up. Only a few small pieces remained intact. That explains why it hurts to barely even move it. But I won’t be able to swim for a while? How was I going to get back home? I doubt that either of these mers would help me out. It looks to me like the green-tailed one was just going to help me out a little, but he wasn’t going to entirely. I was still frail that the big mer would try to eat me.
“Yup. This will take a while to heal. What were you doing all the way out here anyways?” The stranger asked. What do I even say? I don't’ even know why I was there. Because I saw something mysterious in the distance? Do I say that I was just exploring? Both were true. What do I say?
My mouth quivered before whispering a quiet answer, “I-I just s-saw a sh-ship…” I couldn’t finish the rest of my sentence when the big mer had his full attention on me like he could hear me. I doubt he would be able to. I was such a coward. No wonder everyone in the town wanted me gone. They would be all dead if I stayed and a mer his size came around. Though, I’m pretty sure this mer was huge even by other instances.
“Hmm. Well, I can’t really help you heal up a wound like this. It’s just going to take some time. I would say for you to go home, but I’m sure that’s pretty far from here, right?” The green-tailed mer smirked, crossing his arms. I couldn’t move, but he already guessed the answer. I didn’t even know where I was. For all I know I could be an entire days travel back to home instead of the one hour swim it had taken for me to get to that reef. Not to mention I’m sure this big mer was going to end up eating me as a not-so filling snack. I shuddered at the thought.
“Sorry, kid. You can’t stay here either.” Why couldn’t I just stay with him until I was healed and ready to head back home? I would prefer that over staying with the big mer that hasn’t said a word since he let me out. It kind of creeped me out. Plus it looked to me like he didn’t even want to here here right now. Yeah? Well neither do I. Actually, I wouldn’t even be here if he hadn’t taken me.
“So… what do I do with him?” The big mer asked, looking kind of annoyed now. I was still trembling, but now would be a good time to escape. Now that the green-tailed mer was up close to the big mers face. Otherwise no one’s attention was on me.
I forced myself up, noting that the skin below me didn’t seem to notice. I took my chance, pushing myself up and trying to swim off, but nothing. Only a burning pain every time I moved my tail, and I was back on the fleshy surface below, not even able to slightly move at all. I groaned to myself, realizing that even if I did manage to swim off, even if I stopped for a second I would slowly start flowing down to the sandy ocean floor. Great. Just great.
The two were arguing behind me while I stared out into the deep blue ahead of me. There was nothing out there except for a few large rocks and large pieces of seaweed that covered most of the floor. I wasn’t going home. Not anytime soon at least. I was going to die. These people weren’t going to help me, and when I do end up getting better, I would just be eaten, right? The big mer probably thought that if I was hurt I wouldn’t taste as good. I trembled slightly, looking back at my torn up tail. If I hadn’t came all the way out here maybe today could have ended differently? Then again, they were right about my tail being the death of me. They all were. Wow. I really am unlucky.
“Fine, he’ll stay with me until he gets better, but after that, he’s gone.” The bigger mer growled at the much smaller one, then I was wrapped in a tight fist once again. I’m dead. I’m so so so dead.
———Callum———
Did I care that a small mer was literally going to die if I didn’t help them? Yes, of course I did. Did I expect to have to take care of them until they healed up? No, no I did not. Who knows how long that would be! I couldn’t see the damn wound myself, but from watching the little mer try to escape earlier it looked like he couldn’t even swim a foot away without his tail stinging him. Of course I felt bad, but why did I have to take care of them? They got themselves into this mess in the first place.
I groaned, swimming back to the cave I’ve called home for a good while. It was surprise to wake up to someone screaming. I had thought it was just my imagination, but when I saw the shark- I thought something was up. Why was the mer even there anyways? Did he even stop to think that something else could be living in there? Or even if there wasn’t what if he was just cornered by the shark that looked about three times his size. Then he’d really be dead. He’s lucky I’m not some sick psycho who’ll eat him.
To be honest, I really did feel bad for the little guy. I mean, if I were that small and something like that happened to me, I would be terrified. I can literally feel the slightest little tremble in my hand coming from him right now. I’m not a heartless monster like most mers my size. It’s just… I don’t really want to be around someone so afraid of me. Which was why I wanted Archer to take care of him and not me, but of course he can’t.
After swimming back home for about an hour, I looked for a place the tiny mer could stay at comfortably. I decided on a small little platform with a little seaweed growing. There was some sand too and a few coral bits. I’m pretty sure there were some small little caves he could fit himself into as well. Not too bad honestly.
I opened my hand, revealing a shaking little mer. I bit the inside of my cheek, tilting my hand slightly to let him down on the rocky platform that seemed all too big for him. I wonder what I looked like to him… Probably huge, intimidating. Exactly what I was expecting. Oh this is going to be a long couple of weeks. I would take him home, but I’m sure that would only bring him more problems if I just came to wherever small little community he was a part of and just left him there. Especially when I’m about 80 percent sure that tail of his doesn’t make it easy to talk to many people already.
“If you need anything, yell. Don’t try swimming off, you’ll only make my job a million times harder. Otherwise, you’re stuck with me until you can swim on your own again.” I crossed my arms, looking for a reaction, but only seeing shock on the littler mers face. Should I get to know his name? No. There was no point when I’d only remember it as just another person who was afraid of me.
I swam off, leaving the mer by himself. I doubt he’d try to swim off. If he did he’d just sink right to the bottom of the floor anyways. Plus, it wouldn’t be hard to track him. It’s not like I’m trying to keep him captive here, it’s just I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know who this mer is. I don’t plan on finding out either since this will all just be over soon anyways, right?
I wrapped in on myself, going back to sleep since I was abruptly woken up. I can just go get food later… and eat away from the little mer.
——————
A couple hours later I woke up, the water felt just the slightest bit warmer, which meant it was a little after midday. I should probably check up on the little mer. I wasn’t all too worried about him escaping, much less him getting himself into another situation, but still. Checking wouldn’t hurt.
I swam, rubbing my eyes and yawning when I get to the spot I left him at, not seeing any sign of him there. I searched for a while, gently moving away some of the small stalks of seaweed and still not seeing the little mer. Wow. Did he actually try to swim off? I chuckled a little, but I was still the slightest bit worried. I brought my face closer, spying something purple hidden under a tiny rock. How the heck does he even fit under there? Oh well. I wasn’t about to rip off the rock he’s somehow found a little home under. If it makes him feel safe, then I won’t bother. But I still have to ask him something.
“Are you… hungry? Just come out of your little hiding spot if you are.” I watched for any kind of movement, but nothing. When was the last time he ate even? I guess I’ll leave him be for now. If he doesn’t eat anything tomorrow then I’ll just get him something. I’d hate for him to starve to death just because I didn’t get him anything. I feel like that would be the worst way to die in my personal opinion.
“Alright. Don’t leave.” I ordered, swimming off to go get myself some food from my usual grounds. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten myself really. I kind of wished that he came out though. Just so I could get a better look at him. The only thing I’ve really noticed was his tail and just how small he was and that was pretty much it. Though, that was kind of my fault for just leaving the second I was able to.
When I came back, no longer hungry, I saw something small sitting down in the open sand area of the little area. Oh. He was out? I was gone for a good while though. I swam silently, not trying to scare him. What was he doing? It kind of looked like he was just messing with something in his hands. A shell?
He turned his head slightly, letting out a yelp of surprise when he saw me and rushed to go back into his hiding spot. My heart fell, but I knew this was going to happen. It’ll be over in about two weeks. Then he’ll swim off and forget about you, maybe tell this story to his future kids or something. I didn’t know what other mers did when this happens to them. Though, I doubt this specific thing happens.
I didn’t say anything at all when I swam back in. I didn’t plan on talking a whole bunch. I’m pretty sure the little mer didn’t either. I’m only here to make sure he has everything he needs to survive, that nothing won’t try to eat him either.
———Nico———
This was the same cave I was in not so long ago. Just a different part. It seemed more like an open cage where I was at right now. A platform that held a few tiny fish that somehow survived here, some snails, there were some small anemones, rocks, a seaweed patch. I also found some small caves I could fit into hidden behind some of the seaweed, but I didn’t really want to stay there. It really felt like a prison if I were being honest. Like he’s had other mers there before. The worst part was that he already knows about all the hiding spots, so if he were mad at me he knows exactly where to look for me. That’s always great to know. So, there was no possible way for me to get out. It would take me too long just to swim out of the cave, and even if I did, he could just track me down.
I’ve already accepted my fate. I was going die here. Whether I liked it or not. My best bet was to just avoid him as much as possible, which I think I’ve done pretty well so far for it only being a couple hours. What can I say? I was terrified of dying, and that guy is pure death to me. I feel like he’ll just rip me up into pieces at any point, and that’s what really gets me.
So here I was, hiding underneath a rock where he could very easily take it off. I’m surprised he hasn’t already. I’ve found that the place I was in wasn’t all that bad. It was comfortable, easy for me to move around. Not too bad, but I would really like to go home. I miss it already. I just want to go back to my little home inside the coral and sleep peacefully on the soft sand. What would my parents do when they realize anyways? No one would want to look for me. It was sad actually. What was I even supposed to here? Just wait to be eaten? I’m pretty sure that’s what was going to happen anyways.
I recently found out that the big mers tail was a pretty dark blue color, which explains why he was so big in the first place. Most mers with a blue tail grow to be pretty big, but I’ve never seen one his height before. I think I’ve only really seen one where I was a little bigger than their fist, but this is an entire different thing. I mean, who wouldn’t be when someone fifty times your size was supposed to “take care of you?” How was that even possible?
I crawled out of my little hiding spot, picking up the colored rock I had found earlier and continued to fidget with it. Everything would be fine… right? He’d let me go eventually. I wound’t be eaten, and then I can forget all of this ever happened. Oh who am I kidding? I was unlucky, nothing would ever work out for me. It always takes a turn for the worst. I sighed, too tired to even bother with going back into my hiding spot, and made myself comfortable in the sand. I just have to hope it’ll all work out in the end.
——————
When I woke up, the giant mer was laying on his stomach, head resting on his arms as he stared out into the deep ocean. I tried not making a single sound as I pushed myself up, glancing over at my tail and seeing that it was still torn up. So it really wasn’t a dream. Or nightmare I should say.
I held a hand over my mouth as I made my way to underneath that rock, but something caught his attention to make him look over where I was. He glared at me, watching me go still and hold my breath. He rolled his eyes before swimming closer to me, the fast and effortless movement making me dizzy as his face took up most of my vision. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t-
“Are you hungry yet?” I shook my head, not wanting to make him do extra work just to keep me alive. There’s also the fact that he might just want to to eat more so I taste better. Well, no thank you. I’d rather die of hunger than die while inside his mouth. The thought made me slightly gag, earning a confused look from the mer.
He let out a sigh before swimming off, fast water hitting me in the face from his careless movement. Yeah… I did not feel good. Neither did that fact that I didn’t even know his name yet. I feel like I should know the name of my future killer. Wait- don’t think like that.
The mer came back with something in his hands, dropping a few small fish in a pile in front of me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard. I can’t tell him that I don’t eat fish. Then that’d start a new problem, which I can’t really afford considering the situation I was in. Then, he did something I completely unexpected. He propped his head up with his hand, elbow on the platform he had me on, and watched me with an annoyed look on his face, “I’m staying here until you eat. And I know you’d probably prefer me as far away from you as possible, little mer.” He smirked.
He wasn’t wrong.
What do I do? I was hungry, and I suddenly regret not eating that plate my mom made me the day before. I don’t even remember the last time I ate. Great. I don’t want to eat fish I though! But I have to unless I’m really about to just stay this close to someone who could swallow me whole without even trying- STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT!
I pushed myself towards the little place under the rock where I currently call home, only to be stopped by a fleshy surface in front of me. I backed away so fast I’m surprised I didn’t trip over my hands. I heard a quiet chuckle above me, like he was having a good time.
“Just eat. It’s not poisoned or anything.” I couldn’t help but catch the slight tone change. Like he actually sort of cared about me? I don’t know how to describe it, but it didn’t stop my heart from beating rapidly and my body start malfunctioning (Like literally I couldn’t move even if I wanted to it was too busy trembling so much)
I scooted closer to the fish, a shaky hand holding one that was about the size of my entire arm. If it’s the only way to get him to leave me alone… I took a small bite, hating how the fish didn’t even taste bad, it’s just I don’t like seeing dead fish. I dropped the fish back into the pile, forcing myself the crane my neck up at the mer, who, for a split second, had a sympathetic look on his face before he just fixed his position. I did what he asked me to… could he please just leave me alone?
Instead, he waited. I don’t know how much time had passed, but this guy is extremely patient. Doesn’t he have better things to do? Like… well I have no idea what he does but it’s obviously not waiting on some insignificant mer to eat something. I didn’t eat another bite, and I guess that’s when it clicked in his head.
“You… don’t eat fish, do you.” He sighed, closing his eyes. At least I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t do anything but hide my torn-up tail and fidget with my hands while staring at the sand.
“What do you eat then?” I couldn’t answer his question. And I guess he realized that too because he just started listing off things he could find until I finally nodded my head. I was scared if I didn’t at least answer him like that he’d do something to me. So then he left, ordered me not to leave (Which I couldn’t do anyways but I still listened because I was scared of what he’d do if did end up leaving) I quickly glided over to my little makeshift home under the rock and stayed there, shaking. What would I have done if he didn’t realize that? What would happen if he wasn’t willing to wait? Would he just have eaten me there and then? I curled in on myself, mindful of the many loose pieces of thin fin on my tail.
He came back a couple minutes later, dropping some kelp and taking his same position again, making sure I actually ate. It was uncomfortable, but I knew if I didn’t he’d just force me to one way or another. Threaten me. Yeah, I’m okay. No thank you. Instead, I ate what I could in case I wouldn’t get a chance like this again and watched as he just grabbed the rest and placed it somewhere. I hate everything about this.
———Callum———
I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t eat fish. He’s practically on himself if he were just a tiny bit smaller… It’s sad to think about really. It wasn’t even that hard to gather any of the kelp, so I don’t know why he forced himself the first time. He could have at least told me. I didn’t mind going out. Then again, I didn’t exactly make that clear to him either.
I left him alone like I had promised, watching him hide in the seaweed, but it was easy to spot him in the green with that bright purple tail of his. I found it to be nice really. It wasn’t really a hazard to me like other mers probably find it to be, but it’s really a nice color. I don’t think he thinks that though.
Meanwhile, I tried to figure out just what I could do in the meantime. Usually I just go out and explore, but I don’t think I can just leave the little mer all alone for so long. Something might actually come, then I’d have to deal with that guilt. I don’t think taking him with me is an option, because I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of me and the last thing he would want to do is be around me. I sighed, looking back out in the ocean, feeling my eyes become heavy. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe I should actually learn his name.
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Wowwww. Y’know, rereading this chapter, I don’t think I like it, but oh well. Yes, I know Callum is just sarcastic and hard to get used to, but he’ll warm up to Nico. And yes, he’s just taking care of Nico because he feels bad for not being able to help out in time.
Hope you guys liked it (I kind of didn’t) and I hope I can get you some drawings of these two soon! (I love them sm aghhhh) Thanks for reading!
#g/t#g/t writing#g/t community#sfw g/t#giant/tiny#mermay#rising tides#Oc: Nico#Oc: Callum#Oc: Archer#I swear these two are so fun to write with#The drawings are coming together alreadyyy#again#im not an artists so just stick with me TwT#But I hope you guys are actually enjoying this piece#I wasn’t so sure about it tbh#But thanks for reading!#love you guys ❤️
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My New Book Is Out! | Tokens of Zeal
My new book is out!
Buy it! Buy it now!
That's right: In secret, on January 2 of this year I began writing a book of essays. Some of you may know that I have an online journal, which I created in the summer of 2003 when I was just 21 years old and have kept up with ever since. For my new book I went back to the journal and read through it, entry by entry, drawing out excerpts of interest that became conversation pieces for 81 various and sundry essays reflecting on my past life and past thoughts.
The essays are short, often very short. They are less challenging than my usual writing, I would say. My purpose was not to advance my personal frontier of philosophy and intellectual thought in 2024, or to reach a niche audience of deep thinkers, but instead to reflect sincerely on some things I've seen along the way and muse upon how my thoughts have changed and stayed the same over twenty years.
I mention this to you because I am a bit worried that anyone who reads this book might think there's not much to me as an author, and might be dissuaded from reading my works of fiction when those books eventually come out, so I'll lampshade that by adding that I wrote this book in two-and-a-half months. Make of that what you will. I told myself I wouldn't self-sabotage the book by needlessly saying negative things about it, and I am proud of it, not only the fact that I finished it at all, let alone so quickly, but of the actual contents too.
This book is "Volume 1" in a hypothetical series, as it doesn't cover the entire twenty years of the journal but only the first four months, from August to November of 2003—at which point the essays had reached "book length" (lol). So really this book is a snapshot of my life in the latter half of 2003. At that time, I was fading out of college due to financial hardship and other issues, and did not realize that I would never (as yet) return.
I have been wanting for years to go back and reread my journal, and writing a book out of it was the perfect impetus to finally do it. I think a few things stand out about the Josh of 2023:
First, my principles have remained remarkably consistent, but my awareness and understanding of the world has grown drastically, and so those same principles have led me over time to some different policy views and worldviews on some things.
Second, I was a 21-year-old arrogant block of cheese, full of hormones and self-conviction, and that definitely shows up at times in ways that I simultaneously am not proud of and yet which I admire for their sheer gall. There is something very magnetic about the old me which doesn't exist anymore.
Third, following up on that point, it was pretty inspiring and encouraging to revisit the old me, with all that native optimism and drive. I don't express those qualities anymore because life has worn me down and also because I have come to recognize that humanity's problems are a lot more stubborn and irremediable than I thought. By glimpsing into the past, I couldn't help but be cheered on by the old Josh's proud, utopian sense of human inevitability. It lifted my own spirits in the here and now!
I made the mistake of announcing the book on Patreon right after I finished writing it, i.e. back in mid-March. Then I had to wring my hands every week about how post-production was taking longer than expected. Between the irritating realities of formatting a book in software not properly equipped to format a book (never write a book in Google Docs), the complexities of my detail-oriented manner and strong vision regarding the cover design (and engaging for the first time ever with modern generative AI, and having to learn those ropes), and sustaining illnesses and other life priorities and so on, it would take me another two months in all to finally reach today, where I can now publicly declare:
The book is done! It is for sale right now. It is called:
Tokens of Zeal: Words from a Vanished Age
(Caption: Book front cover of Tokens of Zeal: Words from a Vanished Age, by Joshua Calars.)
You can buy it through Amazon in either paperback or e-book format. (I recommend the paperback version for aesthetics as it is much truer to my design vision for the book's layout and appearance, but my profit margin is actually a dollar bigger with the e-book version, so really just go with whichever version you prefer.) It is available in the US as well as in basically all the other countries that Amazon has expanded its publishing service into. If you need help finding a link to a particular version, give me a ping and I will point you there (if there is a "there" to be pointed to). This is my second published book, following Prelude to After The Hero in 2015, and the first book to be published in print.
If you do read it, first of all thank you! It's an honor that you would take the time. Second of all, I would love any feedback you care to offer. That's not a platitude either; feedback is hard to come by and I really would be interested in anything you have to say, good or bad. You can e-mail me, DM, reblog this, drop an ask, or tag me in an independent post. Whatever you like! Feedback will help me greatly when I eventually get around to writing Volume 2. And feel free to leave a review on Amazon, whether good or bad (though hopefully you enjoy the book); I am told it pleases The Algorithm. But most of all, if you enjoy the book, tell someone about it! Your word-of-mouth is currently 100 percent of my advertising budget, lol.
That's all. I wrote a book; it took four-and-a-half-months; it's done now; and it's the first time I've ever gotten to hold a book that I wrote in my hands as a physical thing, and that's pretty neat.
#Tokens of Zeal: Words from a Vanished Age#New books#Self-publishing#Shameless author self-promotion#Joshua Calars#I am trying on “Joshua Calars” as my new pen name with this book#“The Sinistral” that I used with the Prelude to ATH didn't quite sit right with me#“Calars” is a word in Relance that refers to sunset#They/he are my pronouns; “they” is what I prefer but I won't get mad at you for “he”
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