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kentopedia · 8 months

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♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai

he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k

note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever

the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living.

it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning.

it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford.

you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room.

hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils.

someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning.

you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?

the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen.

you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting.

the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance.

you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight.

you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there.

he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.

you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.

still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them.

perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle.

the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.”

“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”

his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you.

“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?”

you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.

and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent.

it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.

you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on.

he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?”

the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.

“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?”

you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly.

he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.”

nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead.

“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides.

“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.”

your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”

“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”

you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”

his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.”

it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god.

that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers.

it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely.

already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.

“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated.

he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.”

you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?”

he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”

there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?

“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”

“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.”

you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?”

he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”

“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.”

you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?

“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.

“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.”

“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.”

“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."

three weeks pass before you see him again.

you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.

osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side.

you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came.

night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart.

though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him.

you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.

“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.”

“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?”

he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations.

osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges.

“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”

“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”

“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes.

it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together.

“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet—

“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.”

osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.”

he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.

“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”

he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.”

you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?”

osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”

you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth.

maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart.

he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide.

“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”

your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched.

his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”

you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.”

“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.

your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone.

you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin.

“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure.

“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.”

“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.”

osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.”

there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”

“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.”

you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position.

he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh.

“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.”

“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud.

your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”

“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.”

“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"

he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.”

you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails.

breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over.

osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”

he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel.

osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”

you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips.

“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach.

you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. “please, osamu, please,”

he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features.

you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further.

though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.”

sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you.

“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—”

“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”

his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir.

“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.”

“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour.

your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder.

you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth.

“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.”

you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—

“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?”

“you don’t want to.”

you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.”

he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room.

you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green.

“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”

you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.

“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.”

his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin.

the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat.

for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.

though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.

“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”

your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room.

“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you.

osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath.

but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?”

your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan.

you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways.

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

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zqmbiescorpse · 1 year

Text

THE MORNING AFTER THE LAST

lottie matthews x female reader

a/n: i used the word 'homosexual' once and every time i see it i giggle a bit, so if it feels out of place for you it felt out of place for me too lmao

summary: you and lottie have always been suspiciously close for best friends. one night at a party, the feelings finally surface. the only thing left to complicate the situation is a plane crash and a possession.

warnings: alcohol, smoking, brief mentions of homophobia, kissing, sexual tension, suggestive themes, possession, minor depictions of violence (like once i think)

word count: 5.6k

(masterlist)

Your head pounded rhythmically, in time with the pulsating music blaring all around you; the consequence of partying in the middle of nowhere with an abundance of alcohol. By some miracle, you and your team had made it to nationals and were due to fly to Seattle the following morning, so naturally, every member of the Yellowjackets could be found here, either drunk or high - in hindsight, it was not the best idea, but you were teenagers, a lame excuse for the fact that you'd get up to some stupid shit.

If you'd had a mind of your own and had refused to succumb to the pressures of high school, you would most likely be at home now, snuggled up in the warm comfort of your own bed, attempting to fall asleep since tomorrow was going to be very busy for you. Without a doubt, as much sleep as possible would have prepared you for the day, even if you were kept awake for a little while due to an overwhelming anxiety and excitement gathering in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies were congregating to flutter around down there.

However, you were currently standing propped up against someone's car. You didn't know whose it was, just that it was oddly parked in the middle of the party, surrounded by towering trees and irresponsible youth. Either way, it provided you with something to lean on, eliminating the need to hold yourself up while you slumped against it - red plastic cup in hand, you occasionally sipped the cheap alcohol, the flavour reminiscent of metal, bitter and sour, burning the back of your throat as you slowly swallowed it until there was nothing left.

Why were you here then? You'd find yourself pondering that question every other moment of the night, each time, your brain would trigger a similar answer and you'd suddenly be fine with the atmosphere again. The social gathering was merely a non-suspicious justification to spend time with Lottie, who was off scrounging for more beer to supply the both of you with. It hadn't been long, a few minutes max, though, you still wished she'd hurry up and come back. You weren't really invested in conversing with any other members of your team, or anyone else here that attended your school for that matter - leaving you awkwardly awaiting Lottie's return.

This didn't automatically mean that you disliked the people you would play the sport with, you did like a large majority of them and they were your closest friends. You weren't a loner, despite your lack of socialising at that moment which suggested otherwise; everyone else seemed to be scattered about, maybe in pairs or threes, moseying around with their own designated companion. You'd even catch glimpses of some of the girls kissing random guys, undoubtedly sparking trouble and unwanted romantic drama. You didn't want to be part of it. Ultimately, you were quite content with reducing yourself to clinging to Lottie's side, as you typically did.

The girl was witty, and cleverly humorous despite the fact that she was more subtle than harsh, never getting in anyone’s face or poking unnecessary fun at an oblivious target. She wasn't mean, bearing no intent to harm or cause trouble. Aside from her stunning looks and adorably gorgeous face, her genuine friendliness, sarcastic nature, and intelligence only ever intensified your infatuation with her. In addition, Lottie was incredible at what she did, her footwork being the cleanest on the team - how could you not admire her?

At times, it frustrated you to no end, considering the world you lived in, people would avoid homosexuals like the plague, meaning you had precisely zero people to talk to about your troubles. You'd attempted to dismiss such feelings for your best friend, however, each instance proved useless.

Creating distance between the pair of you failed miserablely, for starters, the image of you and Lottie Matthews being miles apart caused eyebrows to raise immediately - purposely avoiding her made you feel deflated while it drastically upset her. It was inhumane to do that to someone, especially someone so special to you, therefore, that plan was scrapped within minutes. Besides, you played soccer together for your school, it was only a matter of time before you'd be attached at the hip again.

'Newbie' was not the correct term for you, regarding your experiences with the team, nevertheless, you couldn't help but question your own utility. Although you could never exactly pinpoint why you were valued so much, apparently everyone else thought you were a spectacular asset and essential if they had any hope of winning Nationals. You disagreed.

On the other hand, Lottie acted like she was your personal hype woman, constantly drowning you in praises throughout every second of every game. Those things got under your skin, in the best way possible. It was a miracle that your performance didn't waver when she'd encourage you with such charming words, blushing and fumbling after every compliment.

You watched the brunette make her way toward you, a new batch of murky liquid in her hands, your heart a flutter at the mere sight of her. Lottie stumbled across the bumpy terrain, careful of the mud to prevent a fall, yet, she didn't hesitate to raise an arm excitedly to greet you. You smiled, shyly returning the wave.

"Jesus Christ, what idiot chose here of all places to have a party!" Lottie giggled, slipping the new cup of alcohol into your old, empty one.

"I have no idea, we kinda just show up, no questions asked," Your response was nonchalant, "Oh, thank you, by the way, for the drink," You quickly added on, eager to show your gratitude, even if it was over something minor.

"What?" She stared, wide-eyed, struggling to hear you over the booming beats of whatever shitty song was playing.

"I was just saying thank you for the beer!" Somewhat slurring your words, you began to shout, ensuring that you wouldn't need to repeat yourself again.

"Yeah, of course! It's no problem!"

Neither of you was severely intoxicated, at best it was more of a faint buzz guiding your bodies closer. The proximity gradually narrowed - there was not much hesitation as you were too busy caught up in the pointless, drunken conversation flowing between you and her.

Equally giddy, you became progressively needy, hanging onto every word she spoke, whereas Lottie continuously rambled on about everything and nothing, informing you about insignificant details; a vast grin plastered to her face. Out of all the Yellowjackets, it was obvious that you and Lottie had consumed the most alcohol, the image of you together - fairly isolated from everyone else though still in view of anyone sober enough to care - her free hand lazily played with the ends of your hair and you gazed up at her wearing a toothy grin.

Although it was strange for her to publicly display physical affection for you, the action didn't linger on your mind due to the woozy atmosphere. The man-made peace surrounding you, created by the beer, was soon broken by a few incoherent voices quarrelling suddenly.

"You're a fucking sociopath!"

Lottie, instantly detecting where the commotion was coming from, followed the sound of arguing. You trailed behind her, also eager to see some excitement.

"That was Shauna, right?" You inquired, cracking up at the idea of Shauna of all people getting into it with someone else, she was definitely not the type to start trouble.

"Sounds like her," The taller girl delighted, "Look! There, with Taissa."

You and Lottie merged with the congregation of people intensely monitoring Shauna and Taissa as they bickered back and forth about an incident that had occurred prematurely. Van had evidently been tangled up in the crossfire, the poor girl trying her hardest to separate her agitated teammates. You momentarily realised the situation was because of the gruesome injury inflicted on Allie, having been present when her flesh was ripped off her leg and her kneecap smashed.

"I don't need you to defend me? Last time I checked you were totally fine with the whole 'freeze her out' strategy," Nat, feeling targeted, counted herself into the dispute, "I don't know why you two decided to come over here and just laugh when you were very much involved too?"

Her attention focused on you and Lottie, pointing fingers, exaggerating your amusement that had washed over with concern long before it had been mentioned, and hearing everyone shout at each other conveyed the seriousness of the situation plenty.

"Hey, what? We're not laughing?" Lottie defensively piped up, "I even said that I was unsure about it! How was I supposed to know that Tai would take it that far!"

Natalie shook her head, unimpressed with Lottie, instead, aggressively addressing you now. You hadn't spoken a single word, yet, the terror that shot through your veins was indescribable.

"What's your excuse? Apart from the fact that you go along with anything Lottie does," The blonde condescended.

"Fuck off Natalie, I didn't do anything. I didn't bust her leg and ruin her chances at playing sport," You quipped back at the unwanted blame, humiliated at whatever she was trying to hint at concerning Lottie.

"Bull. Shit."

Many negligible disagreements erupted violently inside the once collective dispute, drawing attention to you and your group. The volume was out of control, girls verbally attacking one another over nothing, arguing for argument's sake.

Due to the commotion, you started to attract bystanders, which in turn, alerted a very annoyed Jackie. She stopped what she was doing and promptly stomped over, disappointed and desperate to defuse the situation. Stern words from the girl with honey-coloured hair swiftly lead the fighting members of the Yellowjackets into a clearing, isolated from the party's intense atmosphere.

You suppressed a groan at the suggested team-bonding activity, not particularly thrilled to forcibly compliment them at Jackie's request. Originally mimicking a military lineup, everyone disassembled from the formation and awkwardly approached each other, mumbling positive affirmations.

You were fortunate enough to be right next to Lottie, the taller girl swivelling around to meet your smaller self. She was without a drink, likely thrown it away before arriving at the new destination - in its place was a freshly lit cigarette. The crisp air dancing across your bodies sobered you up a bit, although not completely, you still felt more capable of thinking straight.

There were millions of compliments you could've shower the beautiful brunette with, deciding what to actually say was a challenge. Taking drags of the cigarette and blowing the smoke in your general direction, because Lottie knew how it would make you blush, she peered down at you expectedly, awaiting an answer. Alternatively, she could've just taken the lead but didn't, for reasons you couldn't figure out.

"Jackie seriously couldn't think of anything better to fix our problems," You offered, seriously unsure about what to say to her. Lottie certainly wasn't going to let it go, yet the issue of accidentally being too forward and implying your romantic feelings for her was a looming threat that held you back.

"What is it, not got anything nice to say to me?" She mused, smirking.

"I admire your commitment to sport and…" You cut yourself off.

"And what?"

A strangled chuckle left your tightening throat, leaving Lottie amused.

"I don't know, well, I was gonna say something like…you're a really great friend to me."

For a millisecond, you considered coming out with the truth and telling her how pretty she was. Ultimately, you fumbled and quickly covered it up, though you couldn't shake the feeling that Lottie knew how awfully you were lying.

"Sure, you're a good friend to me too," she mocked, playfully jabbing her finger into your shoulder before returning the cigarette to her lips.

This your eyes followed, trailing up until you inevitably met hers. You didn't know if it was because you'd gained confidence after the alcohol you'd had throughout the evening, or if you had internally decided to be more bold - forward with her - but you didn't want to look away. You couldn't look away.

You noticed as Lottie's face changed from playful, to something more gentle, yet serious, like she had been suddenly whisked away in the same trance that had lured you into a daze. The ever-present background noise of the girls laughing and joking with each other danced happily around your ears, your subconscious pleased to hear your teammates having fun again. Though, you felt isolated from them, too focused on Lottie's plump lips and how they would part slightly, ready to say something, but freighted to do it.

Her tanned skin glistened under the shine of the moon, creating something other-worldly out of someone who was already beyond ravishing. The distance between you shortened with each second, Lottie's hands were itching to reach out and pull you closer - you craved it.

"Me and Shauna are gonna start heading back, get home safe!"

The lust-filled atmosphere concealing you and her from the rest of the world crumbled, the interruption from Jackie announcing her and Shauna's exit brutally snapped the pair of you back into reality. There were a few awkward glances shared while you casually backed off from her. Nothing really happened; the fear of rejection crept in nonetheless, wondering if you'd overstepped her boundaries.

Jackie and Shauana disappeared into a clearing, prompting many of the other girls to disperse and start to make their own way home.

"Are we leaving too?" You shyly asked, the tension from moments ago playing on your mind.

Lottie paused, considering her options thoroughly. She scanned the surrounding area, her face radiating an internal conflict so severe she couldn't have just been deciding whether she wanted to return home or stick around for a little longer.

“No. We’re staying.”

Her voice was fierce, a dangerous fire blazing in her eyes as she snatched your wrist and dragged you further within the trees, the taller girl guiding you to an unknown destination. You didn't complain nor protest. It was completely in the norm for her to do whatever she pleased with you trailing not too far behind. One could even say, you were totally whipped. She had your entire trust.

"Where are we going, Lottie?" You laughed nervously - that curious, giddy feeling back again.

"Away from everyone…just the two of us."

You couldn't determine her tone and you couldn't see her face. A silent blush tinted your cheeks. Was she messing with you? Was she purposely sounding so seductive? Did she know how hard your aching heart was pounding frantically against your chest?

The brunette came to a halt and you followed suit. Lottie finally spun around, meeting you face-to-face, her eyebrows were furrowed and her breath against your skin was unsteady, but it didn't stop her from grabbing your jaw and sloppily locking her lips with yours.

Tingles and hot flushes spread across your body due to the very sensation that was her mouth pressing bruisingly into your own. Any whimpers or whines you let slip as you reciprocated the passion she was gifting you, were shushed, Lottie taking the quickest of breaks from being attached to your lips to remind you to keep quiet made your insides melt - having the opposite effect, instead encouraging you to get more impatient.

She forcefully guided you backward until the rough bark of a tree was up against you, your hands clutched to her waist and your nails dug deeper because of this, earning a pleasured groan from the one who was basically on top of you. You could taste the liquor from earlier on her, she could taste it on you too. It didn't stop either of you from wildly exploring each other's mouths.

Desperate to somehow be even closer to you, Lottie's weight smothered you, her height compared to yours left you with no chance of gaining control, but that wasn't an issue at all. Unintentionally, she lifted a leg for reasons only justifiable because of the positions you were in and the circumstances of a limited area, causing her knee to press into a certain spot between your shaking thighs. A moan slipped from your throat, louder than expected.

"Oh, my," Lottie chortled, taking a step back, "Did you like that?"

"Shut up and keep kissing me…please."

She obliged, buzzing with delight, the kisses slower at first, filled with love, the pace gradually picking up until you found yourselves similarly to where you were before: heated, messy, and running out of air.

The weight from your foot cautiously stepping up the rickety rungs of the old ladder made quite a racket, the wood rotting, similarly to the entire foundation of the cabin. It was a surprise that the structure was even suitable to live inside. Your designated pillow and blanket were slung over your arm, consequently, you struggled to make it to the top - climbing a ladder one-handed was not on your bingo card for this summer. Then again, neither was surviving a plane crash and having to live in Canada's brutal wilderness for an insufferable amount of time.

"What are you doing?" Taissa, who must have heard your endeavour, leaned over the entrance of the attic, "Here, I've got you."

The athlete assisted you with ease, collecting your belongings for you and placing them to the side so they would no longer be an inconvenience.

"Thank you, Tai," You nodded, briskly moving to set out a place to sleep, busying yourself in an attempt to avoid any questions you knew were about to come your way.

"Why are you up here?"

"I just thought I'd support my friend, prove to everyone that there's nothing to be scared of and that the cabin isn't haunted…" You lied confidently.

"Right…If you were so sure, why did it take you this long to join me up here? I mean, I would appreciate it more if you displayed your so-called unity ten minutes ago? When I proposed the idea and got no response? You tryna make me look stupid?" Taissa quipped, mostly light-hearted, but you knew that she wasn't buying it - she was more bothered about getting the truth out of you than wasting time being annoyed.

You brushed it off with a laugh, kneeling down to fluff up your pillow and adjust the extremely thin blanket-crafted mattress. You relaxed yourself against it, now snuggled up on the floor. Taissa copied this, bringing herself to get comfortable next to you.

"So are you going to tell me the actual reason why you chose to come sleep in this creepy attic?" She was relentless, never shutting up unless your response was satisfactory. "Shouldn't you be down there, with Lottie?"

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" You choked, disappointed that she'd guessed part of your problem this early on.

"Oh c'mon, don't be like that, I'm only pointing out that it's unusual for you to be this far away from her. You and Lottie, not up each other's asses? That's unheard of," She smirked.

"Okay, shouldn't you be down there with Van, then?" You mimicked the suggestive question, turning the suspicious homoerotic friendship allegations onto her this time.

Taissa let out a sigh. Not because of you or anything that you'd said, rather, she missed her secret lover after mere minutes of separation.

"Van's too freaked out, she wanted to stay with the others," She spoke, deflated, the cheeky way of her words had disappeared, the reality of what you'd seen at the seance front and centre in her mind.

"I'm terrified," You bluntly admitted, "I'm way too scared to be near her and I know how selfish it sounds but I can't do it. Lottie…she, well, she was fucking possessed!"

After the party, you and her never spoke about the kiss. Things carried on between you as they normally would, thankfully, yet the memories of that night corrupted your every thought. You assumed that the plethora of alcohol you shared caused her to forget, which was still strange since you remembered it perfectly, but ignored it anyway. If she genuinely had no memory of it, that would probably be for the best; you'd hate to ruin your already-established friendship.

However, over the past week subsequent to the crash, there was a minor difference in her that made it so the pair of you were somehow closer than before, this including physical closeness to one another. Hence, you were under the impression that she simply refused to mention the kiss due to reasons unknown. Possibly some variation of fear.

Then, as her way of 'pulling her weight' to help the group adapt to their new life, Jackie cooks up an amazing idea to host a seance that, in turn, offers Lottie up to any available demons, her body becoming a vessel for the supernatural.

It was horrifying. The delicate flicker of the candles had blown themselves out, ripping away any source of light; the room was filled with disorientated screams and panicked suggestions to make Lottie stop chanting - your 'sort-of girlfriend' had been repeating something demonic in French, successfully freaking everyone the fuck out. Vague translations had left the group mostly in the dark about what was happening, the only parts that were figured out included the spillage of blood and the demands of an unnatural being.

The shock that struck you then stayed with you now, the thought of sleeping next to her was unbearable, thus explaining why you relocated to the attic to be with Taissa.

"It's okay to be scared, you know that, right?" She offered, trying to smile.

"I feel horrible though. I can't believe I just left her because I'm too much of a coward to face an issue that wasn't even her fault!" You fussed, grumbling into your hands to hide your face and the tears that were forming in your eyes.

"Hey, it's not your fault either. I'm sure Lottie will understand if you spend one night away from her, with good reason might I add," A friendly chuckle strived to cheer you up, Tai shuffled up to you in case you needed to borrow her shoulder.

"We kissed."

You don't know why you told her, you were planning on keeping it a secret, locking it away forever like the situation never even existed in the first place and was just another daydream, about your best friend, that nobody would ever know about.

The girl beside you took in a shocked breath, "Shit…I kinda guessed that you weirdos liked each other a bit too much but oh my god I wasn't expecting that."

"We've both been acting like nothing happened that night. Then this had to happen and make everything more complicated." You explained, slightly calmer than you had been a few moments ago.

"Try not to worry about it. Get some rest, clear your mind, and talk to her about it tomorrow, okay?

The suggestion had you nodding in agreement, what else could you really do at that point in time? You were in great need of an undisturbed rest and if you had to move away from the possessed culprit to do that then it was in your right to do so. You concluded that at the first chance you got throughout the busy, chore-filled day, you would go off and find Lottie. The idea made you anxious, nauseous even, but you couldn't avoid her and 'it' forever.

When you finally awoke the next morning, the sun was beaming through the window, golden rays shining down on your face and painfully in your eyes - you rolled over to avoid it, only to discover that Taissa was already gone.

It must've been later than usual since nobody besides Coach Scott could be found inside the cabin, everyone else had vacated it to carry out tasks, individually pitching in, which you were falling behind on due to the late start.

You recalled Shauna asking you to assist her with something, probably revolving meat rations. You weren't sure why she chose you of all people to help her with that stuff, but you supposed it was because you originally showed some willingness and then suddenly, you're dragged into it every time.

Luckily, you spotted her immediately, stood around with Jackie, seemingly waiting for you.

Apologies for unintentionally lying in came tumbling out of you, explaining how Taissa kindly forgot to wake you up. This earned you a hearty chuckle from Shauna who reassured you that it was okay, and that she knew you'd take a little longer as Tai had taken it upon herself to inform the group that you needed the extra rest. Feeling partially relieved, you followed Shauna into the forestry areas to the shed where the dead animals were kept - you didn't fail to notice Lottie's absence.

As instructed, you thinly sliced the portions of raw meat for rationing; the blade smoothly cut through. It wouldn't be long until you'd run out of food again, the one deer unfortunately wasn't enough to sustain the group forever, hence, you'd rather not worry about it, the hunters were out doing all they could and you had to put some faith in them.

Your mind drifted to Lottie, not a great decision since thinking about her was very distracting and you were wielding an extremely sharp knife - to accidentally slash your fingers while concentrating on her would be an amusing story for everyone else, not so funny for you however.

"Are you nearly finished?" Shauna checked up on your progress, peeking over your shoulder.

"Pretty much, yeah," You murmured, preoccupied, "Hey, have you seen Lottie this morning? I'm just curious since she wasn't around the cabin."

"Yeah I saw her, it wasn't for long," She recalled, "Laura Lee took her to the lake. You know, after the seance and everything…she's been acting really weird."

Having finished your task, you placed the knife down and rested your palms against the rigid table, then said, "I don't know how I'm realising it now but, something has been wrong with her for a fair few days. We haven't brought any attention to it, is all.

With a dirtied rag, Shauna wiped the blood off her hands and urged you to do the same.

"Maybe keep an eye on her if it makes you feel better. I think we've all been acting reasonably different." She replied, wanting to keep the hopes high, this you appreciated, giving her a small nod as she gathered up the meat and took it away to be stored.

You sighed deeply and shut your eyes tight, focusing on nothing, ensuring that your head was clear. The heat alone, out there in the wild, made you feel exhausted.

Stretching your back, you heard a faint rustle from no more than a metre or two away. Expertly scanning the surrounding area, you were ready to snatch the weapon up from the table and call for backup. If you were lucky, this could've been your next meal. Your mouth almost watered at the many possibilities of which animal would come into your vicinity without a single clue in the world of what their fate would be. The low grumble in your stomach grew.

Emerging from the trees, you quickly learnt that it wasn't an animal at all, it was Lottie; her hair had been wet but was gradually drying, some of the strands still clinging to her face, and the t-shirt she was wearing had a few damp patches splattered about.

Abruptly feeling awkward, you met her eyes sheepishly, waiting patiently for her to break the silence.

"Is now a bad time?" She carefully questioned you, her hands joined together in a nervous clump.

"Not at all," You uttered, feigning confidence when you were actually as equally anxious as she was.

"Can we talk?"

You had no objections, having been patient all day, awaiting an opportunity to set things straight with Lottie. Trailing behind her into the woods, you thought back to the party, the way she was leading you to a secluded area so the pair of you could be isolated, it was a direct parallel to that night that seemed a lifetime ago, the night where you had hopes that your relationship might have progressed.

"Is everything okay, Lot?" You gently asked.

"Where were you last night?" The taller girl decided you'd walked far enough and that this spot behind the cabin was suitable to converse, thus she stopped, "I woke up and you weren't there."

"I went to the attic."

"Why?"

There was no use in lying, it wouldn't benefit neither you nor Lottie, the excuse that you went up there for Tai, that you failed in convincing her, wouldn't make much sense anyway because the brunette had slept through the proposal. Plus, you just wanted to be honest. That's why you agreed to this in the first place.

"I was scared of what happened to you," You admitted, the anxiety you felt after seeing her possessed came flooding back, distressing you all over again.

Lottie paused, conjuring the perfect response. She didn't say anything - a small, understanding, but sad, nod was the best she could do. A harsh pang of guilt struck your lower body.

"I'm sorry, leaving you like that was probably wrong and I shouldn't have done it, I didn't mean to upset you, Lot. I'm really sorry," You apologised sincerely, "I'm not freaked out anymore, maybe a bit on edge still but, you're better now, right?"

You wondered if you sounded too whiny, your intention was to ensure that your best friend was okay, nothing else.

Her big brown eyes swirled with confusion, she couldn't even tell herself if she had returned back to normal, her voice brimming with anxiety, she whispered, "Do you hate me for what happened?"

"What, no! Of course not, I promise I don't hate you," You explained in a panic, absolutely heartbroken that you'd caused her to say such ridiculous things.

"I don't just mean that," Lottie slowly spoke, testing the waters as she was concerned about approaching the upcoming admission, "The party too, we never talked about it."

To say you were astonished was an understatement. Lottie, someone who you thought had completely forgotten about the kiss, openly acknowledged the fact that it definitely happened.

"I didn't say anything because I didn't think that you remembered, or that you chose to ignore it. I could never hate you, especially because of something like that. It was amazing!" You exclaimed, red tinting your cheeks, joy spreading across your face.

This same cheer infected Lottie, her frown lifting into a beautiful, more confident grin.

"Yeah, it was good," She agreed, blushing furiously.

Although she appeared happier, the furrow of her brow indicated that she remained slightly apprehensive, prompting you to inquire, "What is it, Lot?"

"There's another problem, I think I've been seeing stuff and I don't know if it's real or not." The brunette troubled, shuffling around.

"Like hallucinations? Visions?"

"Visions. I went to the lake earlier, with Laura Lee, and she dunked me under the water - and I ended up in a candle-lit room and then I saw an explosion and… I don't know what's happening to me," She rambled on, her eyes pricking with tears.

You reached out to her, firmly rubbing her shoulder for comfort, "You can talk to me about anything, I'm here for you."

"So, you'll believe me? Laura Lee does, but the others are cautious. You're the one that I need." Lottie's expression was solemn, entirely serious about the discussion you were having; her vulnerable side shining through.

"I believe you and I trust you. I care about you so much, you know?"

Your attention was brought to the blossoming pink patches covering her face due to your honesty, the taller girl experiencing an overwhelming mixture of emotions, she launched herself into your open arms. You hugged her back, tightly, letting go wasn't something that you'd be doing anytime soon, the height difference when you'd have such drawn-out, warm embraces always succeeded in making you laugh.

After an undetermined amount of time, you both instinctively pulled away simultaneously. You gazed up at her, body language oozing with love while you brushed her dark strands of hair out of her face. Lottie's tanned hand cupped your cheek, you could see that she was feeling the warmth radiating off of it, yet, it didn't humiliate you, it felt freeing.

You leaned in close, pecking her soft lips once, then going back in for a second short, though, sickly sweet kiss. Lottie began to giggle - the melodic noise identical to the one you would hear in the Yellowjackets locker room after a long, tiring game, or when you and her exclusivity went around invested in your own dumb shenanigans. It had been a while since you'd heard it, your heart beating faster as a result.

Her palm traced your skin until she arrived at your chin, tilting it upwards, accessing your mouth easier as she towered over you - this kiss was not a short peck. It wasn't a sloppy, heated mess either, rather, it was slow and filled to the brim with affection.

"So are we like a thing then?" Lottie beamed, remaining incredibly close to you with an indescribable bliss.

"If you want things to be official, then I do too," You marvelled, mirroring her wide, toothy grin.

You continued to pepper kissing all over each other's faces, showering your counterparts in affection. From there, things were appearing more positive; your hopes were high for the future.

#lottie matthews x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 2 #yellowjackets season 1 #showtime #wlw #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x female reader #taissa turner #shuana shipman #jackie taylor #vantai #mistyquigley

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spinningwebsandtales · 1 month

Text

Imagine Going On A Park Date With Steven

Steven Grant x FemReader

Rating: G

Warnings: Slight steam but mostly tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Requested by @the-marshals-wife

(A/N:) If anyone couldn't tell, I had a little too much fun writing this piece! And it is one of the most fluffiest pieces I've ever written! I hope that you enjoy it my beloved friend and to all the other Moon Knight fangirls I hope you enjoy it too! I hope to get more writings up and into my queue as I have some news to share, I'm just waiting on some answers first! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Steven wiped his sweaty hands onto his jacket. He hadn't been this nervous since his first day on the job at the museum. And though he loved history and teaching others, he struggled socially. Then he met you. Perfect and kind and an absolute dream. It had been that first encounter in front of the dinosaur section that him tripping over his feet, more so than usual. It wasn't until your beaming smile had his racing heart calming and him quickly agreeing to your invitation to coffee.

After that simple outing for coffee, Steven had begun to realized how much more often you were hanging out around the museum. Runs for coffee, turned into unexpected lunch meetups, and walks to a bakery for a quick sweet treat. This was the first official date between you two, and Steven had been the one to buck up enough courage to ask. And now he was standing here at the park entrance sweating profusely as he waited for you to join him. After he heard of the small festival happening in the local park and how you enjoyed little get togethers like this, he was more than happy to do something a little out of his comfort zone when it came to you. So he prepared himself and wore his best but comfortable clothing.

"Steven!"

Your voice had him quickly looking up and the sight of you had him wiping his hands once again, this time on his pants. His throat tightened at the sight of you in a modest sundress that flowed gently around your ankles, comfortable flats with freshly painted toenails on display, and a sun hat that protected you from the sun.

"Sorry I'm late," you panted while adjusting your small bag. "Traffic was bogged down on main street. I barely got through."

Steven shook his head, still completely speechless. Your head tilted, concern in your bright eyes as he still hadn't said a word. Feeling like the most awkward being alive, Steven cleared his throat trying to dislodge the words he wanted to say.

"You look absolutely amazing," he finally said. You laughed making him blush bright crimson as he realized he didn't reply to your lateness.

"Thank you," you replied taking everything in stride. "You look handsome as per usual."

Steven stammered, scrounging around in his bag he quickly pulled out a little box of chocolates. The edges a little bent from being stuffed inside his crammed bag.

"These are for you!"

"Oh chocolates," you took the box gratefully. "We'll share these later!"

He nodded before offering out his hand. You took it seemingly unaware of how badly he was sweating. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and lead the way through the park gateway. People seemed to be everywhere, but it wasn't where the crowd was overwhelming. A couple bands played at each end of the park and in between was different vendors. Some sold food, several advertised different games for prizes, and a few scattered around were selling chances to win more advanced prizes. To your glee there was a stand selling snowcones, but you wanted to leave that for last. Right now you just wanted to enjoy finally having a fun date with Steven Grant.

The whole place a whirlwind of color had Steven dazed, the only anchor was your hand guiding him along. In moments you both had made it halfway through the park, trying to decide what you both would like to do first. Steven wasn't much for the more physical games, but he could outdo anyone in a trivia game. You managed to rope him into playing a ring toss game with you. With a basket of rings before each of you, you both proceeded to toss the rings towards the bottles set up in a wooden box. The clink of the glass bottles had his heart racing faster and in a blink of an eye, the rings were gone and he was no closer to a prize. You on the other hand were able to ring two bottles for a couple smaller prizes. You were handed a couple of small keychains, one a smiling sun and the other a sleepy looking moon. Both adorable in appearance, you couldn't help but grin.

"Here," you held out the moon keychain towards Steven.

"I didn't win it though," he stepped away.

"I know but I want to give it to you," stepping closer as he backed away. "You give me moon vibes so I think you should have it."

Steven reluctantly took the keychain, "I'm supposed to be winning you prizes."

"Real couples share the burdens," you kissed his cheek before leading him to another game a few feet away.

His cheek tingled where your lips made contact and he promised himself in that moment that he would win at least one thing to give to you. He never felt more determined until now.

Three games later and you both found a bench to sit at and take a break. It was this moment Steven revealed the little galaxy patterned bear, that he had won at a rubber duckie game, while you had waited in line for a couple bottles of water.

"Now I get to the gentleman and return the favor," he boasted with a small grin.

You gasped taking it gently from his hands and gripped it to your chest, "It's so cute! Thank you Steven!"

"It's nothing that special."

You gasped playfully punching him in the shoulder, "Shut up yes it is! I shall name him Stevie and he will be my bestest mate!"

Steven suddenly took great interest in his shoes, "I hope he doesn't take my spot then."

Noticing his blush, you gently reached down to take his hand and threading your fingers together. Steven's head jerked upward, from his nose to his ears a pretty bright pink.

"I don't think anyone could take your place Steven," you replied gently.

With sudden bravery, to which he had no idea where it came from, Steven leaned in closer. His nose brushed against the stray hairs that had escaped from your hat, tickling him. Your breath hitched at his gentle caresses on your fingers. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat as his lips pressed against your cheek tenderly. You leaned in closer, your eyes closing, letting Steven do whatever he liked. You could trust him and you knew he would never take advantage of you.

"No one could take your place either," he replied, his warm breath puffing against your now blushing cheek. He clapped his hands, startling you from the searing moment. "How about a snowcone? You've been eyeing the stall since we got here."

"What about dinner," you whispered.

"Life's too short not to have dessert first," he replied matter-of-factly.

You laughed, "Who am I to argue with the master historian?"

Steven stood up from the bench and once more offered you his hand, "Shall we milady?"

"We shall," you agreed heartedly and took his hand. Deep down inside you knew that taking his hand in this moment meant something more. You felt like you both were taking your first steps into something more, bigger, and beyond either of your understanding. But you felt a giddiness taking over. As long as you got to explore this future hand in hand with Steven, you couldn't help but feel like everything would turn out just right. You gave his hand a little extra squeeze and as he looked at you with knowing eyes, you knew he felt the same way as you.

#Steven Grant X Reader #Steven Grant / Reader #Steven Grant #Moon Knight #Steven Grant Imagine #Moon Knight Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing #Request

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gemini-sensei · 6 days

Note

HDJSHDH i need to know what happens with bad boy robby and his date with larusso’s sweet innocent daughter 😭

i imagine he picks her up at her house, driving a car he took from his mom and some flowers and chocolates he also stole, wanting to save what little money he had in order to pay for whatever they were gonna do.

it’s so cute to think of him getting all ready for a date like maybe ironing his clothes and spraying cologne 🥺

i think he’d either wanna go to a concert, arcade, or like a theme park or fair. all of these he’d want to impress her and show off. he’d buy them both some snacks and drinks to share, maybe a smoothie with two straws cus he saw it in a movie and thought girls would find it romantic. at the end of the date he brings her home and heads to leave but she invites him inside for a bit, they end up either watching movies and falling asleep together on her large comfy bed (maybe something else🤭)

thank you so much for answering all of my super long requests<3

I love your super long requests 💗 don't be shy to send more 😉

Robby would be the one to wanna pay for everything so he's scrounges up some cash to do so. Of course he steals the flowers and chocolates because the money can be used elsewhere. He wants to impress Reader and she's a rich Encino kid, so of course he has to do everything like a gentleman.

However, this is sweet, goth LaRusso!Reader. She doesn't care about money or what he's able to get her. One their daylte, she probably pays with her dad's card before Robby has the chance to take our his wallet. She doesn't care about the stereotype where guy pays for everything on the date. She just wants to have a nice, fun time with her date.

I thought they might go to a concert, but I love the idea that they go to a fair!

They totally eat fair food and sit at a picnic table while drinking a smoothie together. She totally finds two straws romantic, not that she'll admit it outloud. She has an air of gothic mystery to keep up, similar to his bad boy attitude he keeps up with. He definitely puts his arm around her while they walk around the fairgrounds, holding her close as he gives off that 'I don't care' attitude to everyone they pass by. It's actually so sweet.

They go on rides together where he holds her hand the entire time and they're laughing together, just having a nice time together. They spend the time waiting in lines talking about any and everything, just getting to know one another that much better. And cliche as it may be, they have their first kiss at the top of the Farris wheel 🤭 totally unplanned. It was just the perfect moment.

When the night is seemingly over, Robby is happy with how things are seemingly going to end. He takes her home and walks her to her front door, but then she mentions how she doesn't want the night to end and asks if he wants to come inside. He has nowhere he has to be, so he comes inside and they decide to watch a movie in her room. Her family aren't home, so there no one to bother them or bombard them with questions. She strategically told her dad that she was going out with friends and definitely not his new hire from the Auto Group.

It's sweet and innocent at first, but as they forget about the movie in favor of lip locking and gentle touches. Being that he wants to be gentlemanly, he doesn't touch past her waist but he does get some squeezes in. He can't help it. Her waist is so soft and squeezable 😏 so he has to at least get one in, which makes her gasp and their lip locking turns into making out.

They lay on her bed making out for what feels like forever before they have to part for air. She giggles when she sees her black lipstick smeared on his lips and she can't help kissing his cheek to leave a black smooch on his skin. And maybe a few more down his neck. Robby is not opposed to any of this and perhaps they get a little carried away with each other 🤭 either way, their night together is unforgettable.

#s1 robby #goth!reader #larusso!reader #robby keene x chubby reader #robby keene x reader #robby keene headcanons #robby keene smut #robby keene #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei

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pixaho · 3 months

Text

Rude Boys With Girlfriends

♥ Pairing | Rude Boys x Girlfriends ♥ AU? No |

♥ enjoy! Also I have a discord server now for fellow H&L writers who want to promote, share ideas, collaborate, or just have fun in general. It will be at some point put out. I've also not been posting recently due to writing a bunch of other stuff so I do hope you all enjoy this!

M.LIST H&L LIST

SM☺KY

♦ FIRST MEET

You met Smoky when you and him were kids, obviously he couldn't adopt you as a younger/older sister since you were the younger/older sister of P. But you knew each other since you were kids and you had frequently taken care of Lala and Eri as you all got older.

♦ DATES

Your dates with Smoky consist of going to the Nameless Road's orphanage and spending the day with the kids there. Smoky says that he thinks of Nameless Road as a family and is willing to take care of them, so why not spend your dates there? Of course he scrounges up lunch for everybody but especially for you two.

♦ FIRST TIME

He was kind of scared that he could get you sick with what he had so he tried not to do it with you, until he couldn't. You guys had been frustrated over a minor thing that he was trying to fix and you both took your frustrations out on each other, sexually. He was soft when trying to do it because he never wants to hurt you.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments are rare. He always shuts the arguments down by being thoughtful and thinking about it.

♦ JEALOUS

Nope. He doesn't really have a reason to be jealous because he believes that if if you don't have a good relationship with him, then you should find someone else.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

TAKESHI

♦ FIRST MEET

You were running from Doubt members as a kid when Takeshi grabbed you (he was also a kid) and shushed you. He knew why you were running and decided to take you with him. That is when he introduced you to everyone.

♦ DATES

Unlike Smoky, his idea of a date in nameless road is to take you to the highest point there and stargaze. Commonly refers to you as a star because he thinks you shine like them. He's a romantic, what can I say?

♦ FIRST TIME

You guys actually had your first time while you were stargazing. One thing led to another and you were ontop of Takeshi under the stars. You guys were slightly drunk. Lala may have accidentally saw y'all but she silently cheered you on.

♦ ARGUING

They only really happen when he doesn't tell you whats going on. He tries to bypass it by telling you everything is okay and asking you how your day is but it ends in arguments because he'll lie. He goes to Smoky when he doesn't know what to do.

♦ JEALOUS

He does get jealous, he doesn't like to admit it though. He will only show it by being all lovey dovey when your attention isn't on him.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

♦ FIRST MEET

You were apart of Sannoh Rengokai when Cobra came by, a few guests with him. You knew a few of them except for one, P. You were intrigued by him so when Cobra offered to introduce you to him, you took the chance!

♦ DATES

P is awkward with dates, he doesn't entirely know what to do considering he grew up on Nameless Road. He leaves them to you or he asks the others, this leads to a fire being started (trashcan / barrel) and the roasting of some good food.

♦ FIRST TIME

Your first time with him was while the rest of Rude Boys and Nameless Road were asleep. He took you to a secluded tent far away from everyone else and romance happened (and a wee bit of magic too).

♦ ARGUING

He isn't around that much and when he is, arguments are rare. He usually spends his time cuddling and/or snuggling with you until the others need him. He loves you too much.

♦ JEALOUS

Jealousy jealousy jealousy. Yes. Short answer is YES. He literally hates every good looking person secretly because he wants to look better than them to keep you.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

(We barely know him but he's cute)

♦ FIRST MEET

You happened to meet Yu when you were helping others get medical help as a kid. Smoky had come by, being pushed by Lala to see you, and brought someone new. You were introduced to Yu and helped your family member to clean him up.

♦ DATES

His confidence leads him to setting up dates in and outside of the Nameless Road. These dates are typically in parks with food and near the coast.

♦ FIRST TIME

You guys had your first time when Yu got back after a fight. He had been really injured and you were helping him clean up. Well, one thing lead to another and you guys did it. YIPPIEEEE

♦ ARGUING

Arguments aren't rare and they actually happen a lot. Yu hates arguments as they often remind him of before he met you so he always tries to find the salutions. But these are typically about his confidence getting in the way and how he doesn't realize it.

♦ JEALOUS

Lets his confidence cover the jealousy but will show it by drawing and/or writing on your skin using his fingers.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

♥ Mutuals | @talusional @dillpick

#elixirol0gy #high and low fanfic #high and low #highandlowfanfic #frothing at the mouth #highandlowsmut #fluff #high and low smoky #high and low Rude boys #Rude boys #Highandlowsmoky #smoky x reader #rude boys x reader

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jampc · 10 months

Text

sweetener ; prologue

chapter 1

a/n:

i had so much fun writing this scenario and imagining reader's financial struggles. sugar daddy jotaro to the rescue lol :P let me know what you think and check out my other fics <3

pairing:

jotaro x fem!reader

warnings: power imbalance

abuse of power?

tags: sugar daddy, sugar baby, student, professor

you stared blankly at your bank account, sighing deeply as you mentally tallied your meager income from your part-time job at the local convenience store.

just thinking about your rent for the month was making your head spin, and you couldn't even afford to splurge on a nice meal once in a while.

you could barely scrounge up enough money to pay your tuition, let alone buy the textbooks you needed for your classes.

it didn't help that your professor was taking a sabbatical leaving you with dr. kujo as your stand-in lecturer.

dr. kujo was a no-nonsense professor who seemed to have zero tolerance for late assignments or excuses.

his lectures were strict and demanding, requiring you to keep up with every word he said.

still, you couldn't deny that he was easy on the eyes, despite his grumpy demeanor.

the way his crisp, white lab coat accentuated his broad shoulders, or how his hat hid his piercing blue eyes made your heart race.

it didn't matter anyway, he probably had a gorgeous wife or husband waiting for him after class.

you sat patiently during his lecture, scribbling notes diligently when suddenly, you heard someone clear their throat.

looking up, you realized dr. kujo had called on you, and you were zoning out instead of answering.

"where is your text book?" he asked sternly, gesturing to your empty desk.

"o-oh, um..." you stuttered, blushing hard. "i couldn't afford to buy it this semester.

"i've been copying my friend's notes and trying to look up the chapters online."

dr. kujo raised a brow, his eyes softening slightly as he watched your embarrassment deepen.

"go to the library after class," he instructed.

"get a photocopy and a notebook. don't come to my class unprepared again."

you nodded eagerly, grateful that he was allowing you a second chance.

as class ended and everyone began shuffling out, you gathered your things and headed for the library, but were interrupted by a voice calling your name.

turning around, you came face to face with dr. kujo standing before you, his large hands in his pockets as he looked down at you.

"let me drive you to the library," he offered, nodding his head toward the parking lot.

you couldn't believe your luck, not only was dr. kujo tolerating your financial struggles, but now he was willing to give you a ride as well.

climbing into his sleek, black car, you admired the interior, marveling at the plush leather seats and wood trim.

everything about it screamed luxury, and you wondered if dr. kujo always drove such a beautiful vehicle.

as you arrived at the library, dr. kujo parked and turned to you, his icy gaze meeting yours.

"come to my office tomorrow afternoon," he instructed.

"we need to talk." your heart raced at his words, wondering if you were in trouble or if maybe, just maybe, dr. kujo saw potential in you.

the next day, you anxiously knocked on his office door, shifting uncomfortably as he bid you inside.

dr. kujo gestured to the chair in front of his desk, watching silently as you sat, smoothing your skirt before clasping your hands tightly in your lap.

"you struggle financially," he stated bluntly, startling you.

"how badly do you want a better life?" you blinked rapidly, unsure what he meant.

dr. kujo stood and rounded his desk, towering over you as he leaned against the edge.

your breath caught in your throat, your cheeks burning as you stared up at him.

"dr. kujo, why did you call me down here-" "jotaro," he corrected, cutting you off.

"outside of class, you can call me jotaro." you swallowed thickly, noting his intense expression.

"answer my question. how badly do you want a better life?" you chewed your lip, uncertain of his motives.

was he mocking you? making fun of your financial situation?

"i-i do. very badly," you finally replied, unable to break his gaze.

jotaro tilted his head, a faint smile forming on his lips.

"i'm willing to offer you a unique arrangement" he explained.

"i'll become your... benefactor of sorts."

your mouth fell open, realization hitting you like a freight train.

jotaro was proposing becoming your sugar daddy.

spoon-feeding you lavish gifts and spoiling you rotten in exchange for a few dates.

part of you was repulsed, ashamed that you were considering such an arrangement.

but the other part craved the lifestyle jotaro was offering, desperate to feel the finer things you never thought possible.

"what would this arrangement entail?"

you asked softly, already knowing the answer. jotaro slipped a business card onto his desk, his long fingers gently sliding it towards you.

"discuss terms and expectations with my personal assistant."

he instructed. "when you agree, you will sign a legally binding contract.

she will handle the finances and coordinate our... meetings."

you took the card and slipped it into your purse, rising to your feet slowly.

"that is if you agree, of course," jotaro added, returning to his chair behind his desk.

you smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "give me tonight to decide," you promised, excusing yourself as you left his office.

walking home, you weighed the pros and cons, torn between morals and desire.

that evening, as you rummaged through a fast food bag, struggling to budget your groceries for the week, you made your choice.

you pulled out jotaro's business card and dialed his assistant's number, excitement and shame blooming in your chest as she discussed terms and expectations.

#jjba fanfic #jjba #jjba part 3 #jjba jotaro #jojos bizzare adventure fanart #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #kujo jotaro #kujo jotaro x reader

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spellsparkler · 4 months

Note

27 with Lae'zel!!

27: Maintaining a weapon between uses

Confusion, Row learns, makes Lae’zel look faintly murderous. They could laugh at the look on her face, but she wouldn’t appreciate it, so they don’t.

Instead, they both stare at the blade on the tarp on the ground, the clouded metal too filthy to shine in the sunlight. The scabbard rests against Row’s knee. “Huh,” they say, and glance up at Lae’zel’s slitted eyes and incredulously raised eyebrows, back down again. “Mortifying.”

Lae’zel – of course – agrees more fervently than they’ve ever seen from her. “It is,” she says emphatically. “You should be embarrassed.”

Row didn’t even plan it this way, which is perhaps the most ridiculous part. They’d approached Lae’zel’s tent – rapidly growing from their scrounged poles and lengths of fabric into some elaborate set-up that borders on ostentatious – with their sword-scabbard hanging from their hand by its straps, and they’d asked a favour. (Sword, is, perhaps, a misnomer. They found it – honestly can’t even remember where, the ship and the first few hours out of it are a blur – and stuck it onto their belt at some stage, the dull-metal blade with its thick handle and blunt edges. It’s not long, but it’s no hand knife, either. A longer sort of dagger, maybe. It doesn’t seem like it’s made for smallfolk, so the distinctions aren’t perhaps of much note. It’s something that can be used for stabbing, under the right circumstances and when few other options are available, and they’d been under those circumstances today, when their citole had been knocked out of their grasp – thank fuck it hadn’t been really damaged – hence the inept stabbing. And hence the blood.)

(Lae’zel is interesting, in that she’s stubbornly difficult and also profoundly, logically easy. The thing coiled watchful behind their right eye helps, of course, but of their quick-growing and motley crew here Row honestly finds her the most straightforward; all harsh-cut stone and if, then. But the magnitude of the threat as she perceives it is quite different, and the unfamiliarity of everything around her puts her on her guard, if she’s ever known how to be off it in the first place. Mapping her out is simple – laughably so, with the tadpole there to chart the topography at a glance – but finding a hollow to mould themself into is extremely hard. She’s too scared shitless to want anything, which is odd, seeing as how some of the others’ wanting is made entirely out of fear. Row is unconvinced she knows what a friend is, so any quest to puzzle out how to become one might be entirely doomed from the get-go.)

(But she is fun to poke at; and the gambit Row’s taken, much as it seems to vex her, is not without its merits. The earth’s been so thoroughly knocked out from under her that any steady footing brings relief, and to that end she seems to like the pattern of Row’s raillery and her own answering irritation almost as much as they do. She likes things that have become familiar. And she visibly hates to be idle.)

Row had asked for help with their more-or-less sword, seeing as martial weaponry is their last resort but it’s still better than nothing; they needed it today, they could need it again, and it won’t do them much good if it’s rusted or dulled or otherwise damaged. Lae’zel had glanced up at the orange-washed sky and magnanimously agreed. The blade hadn’t come out of its scratched leather sheath on the first pull, which was, in retrospect, the first clue – but they’d pulled, and pulled, until finally it came loose and clattered on the tarp-covered ground, smelling quite bad and tacky with hours-old blood.

The inside of the sheath must be filthy, too. Row wrinkles their nose. Lae’zel continues to stare at the weapon as if it’s a personal insult – as if the blade had killed all her family, or, worse, had tried to and failed.

“You didn’t clean it,” she says.

“I didn’t,” Row agrees gravely. “Evidently, I need the help.”

There is a lengthy pause. Lae’zel reaches out to touch the dried-out grime, pinches still-viscid gore between finger and thumb. The makeup around her eyes has smudged something fierce. She asks, “Why?”

Row pokes at it, too, still watching her carefully out of their right eye. It feels unpleasant. “I didn’t think about it,” they say smoothly, and Lae’zel looks, still, like she is considering taking up the sort-of-sword and plunging it directly into their gut, which Row is beginning to think is just the expression her face makes when she isn’t sure what else to do. (It’s very strange to her, perhaps more so than literally everything else. She was practically born – hatched? – with a weapon in hand; Row’s ineptitude is not just an embarrassment, it’s incomprehensible. It affronts what it is to be alive.) (Behind their eye, the tadpole writhes.)

Honestly, Row isn’t sure how they forgot to wipe it clean. They remember they’d gotten within reach of their instrument very suddenly – they must have just stuffed it away so they could grab the citole out of the mud. And promptly forgotten about it. They’d all been in danger of dying – there’d been other things on their mind.

Lae’zel’s lip curls. “Get the soap,” she says, and Row does.

(It’s the one bar of soap they have, residing in its pouch in the supply pack. It smells a little of lemongrass. It’s used sparingly, shared between the whole camp – except Shadowheart, who had her own with her and seems ill-inclined to share, and Wyll, who found a sliver of lye soap in the pack he was given before he left the Grove. It’s a shame Row didn’t anticipate getting snatched up by a flesh-ship on a quiet mid-week night; they’d have prepared better.)

Lae’zel takes the soap; she scrapes off just a corner with her short-clipped nails and mixes it in with enough water to make something like a lather. She doesn’t speak while she does it, but she moves slowly, careful to let Row see what she’s doing, the way she spreads the mixture down the flat of the blade, bubbly and sweet-smelling. When she takes up a ragged scrap of cloth, she tosses them one, too – they fail to catch it and pick it up from the dirt. They watch as she starts scrubbing the blade – fiercely, in long lengthwise motions, even the particularly stubborn gore yielding eventually under her hands.

“Should I clean it like this every time?” Row asks, fixing her motions with rapt attention.

“After every use,” Lae’zel says. She turns the blade over. “It shouldn’t take this long.” A pause; she glances up from her work, eyes rimmed with black. “This is a shoddy weapon. The metal is weak. I’ve never seen its like.”

Row shrugs. “It’s a backup.”

Taking care of a sword-thing, they learn, is not difficult. It’s essentially the same process they go through with any bladed tools, and that’s something they’re no stranger to. The only difference is preparing for and attempting to negate the corrosive influence of blood. Lae’zel offers to show them how to sharpen it, although she seems unconvinced that its edges won’t crumble at the slightest pressure. They agree, and discover they don’t enjoy the sound of a whetstone.

She looks at them – straight-backed and stern, hand resting by the oiled whetstone – and scoffs. “You’re worse than a child,” she says; her voice is very muffled by the fingers Row’s stuck in their ears.

They remove them. “Than a Gith child,” they reply, because they’re quite confident they’re better at weapon maintenance – or usage, when it comes to that – than any child not hatched with a sword in hand. Lae’zel glances at the blood-smeared rags, thoughtful, and Row doesn’t even need the tadpole to see her remembering the tiefling children and their wooden weaponry, their grips uncertain, their feet slow and arms ill-weighted. She’d looked very perplexed, upon seeing them.

She nods, now, sharp and expressive. “Yes,” she says, “You’re right. Faerûn’s children are much worse at combat.”

It sounds so unfamiliar in her mouth; Row quirks a brow. “Did you mean Fay-run?”

“I said –” Lae’zel starts, and then she scowls, eyes slitted, looking down her nose. She sits so steel-straight that she’s got double height on them, even when they’re both on the ground. (Row thinks they might need to start dragging around crates to stand on; craning their head to look everyone in the eye is starting to give them a horrendous crick in the neck.) “I said it correctly,” Lae’zel insists, icy. “I don’t make the same mistake twice.”

The hollow space behind Row’s right eye shifts, cold and running as river-water. “Sorry,” they say lightly. “I was joking.”

Lae’zel looks at them. In the faint orange light of the sun beginning to set, her eyes look molten golden.

She takes up the apparently abysmal-quality blade. “Don’t,” she says, with steely finality, and she holds it out to them, hilt-first.

#completely clueless as to the quality of this. who knows! I'm not editing anything today and you can't make me #row tag #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #my writing #microfic #lae'zel #bg3 tav

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wordofthewicked · 2 years

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Showtime- Paul Lahote

Fic description: A chance meeting one sunny afternoon on La Push brings you face to face with Paul Lahote. Your strange connection with him, and the fact that it was his soccer ball that broke your nose, you were wrapped up into an unseen world that lived in tandem with yours. How far are you willing to go for true love? How far are you willing to go to protect the people you love?

TW: underage drinking, drug use (weed), disgusting fluff

Showtime Masterlist

General Masterlist

Part Seven

To say that I am overwhelmed is an understatement. The amount of love this story has received recently is nothing short of insane. I’ve been writing online since I was 11, and I’ve never had so much love like this. I see every comment, reply, reblog, like, message- even if I don’t respond right away. It makes my heart happy that you guys love this little silly story like I do. I’ve got several more works I’m writing currently (Jacob, Seth, Embry, and a fun little Embry and Paul) that I’m planning to begin uploading soon. Thank you for your support and encouragement, it revitalized my love for writing in a way I didn’t know was possible. Part nine might be on a delay, as I head back to school in a few days! But don’t fret, I won’t make you wait too long! Feel free to send in requests, I’m working on some rn for Paul! I write for any of the boys, plus the Cullen’s as well!

~~~

Part Eight

The night you spent alone at Paul’s house was nothing short of magical, but in the coming days, you felt a sort of shift in your relationship. Paul was more physically affectionate than ever before, much to the dismay of the pack. Yet, whenever you caught him staring at you, it seemed like an unspoken question was hung on the tip of his tongue.

You two managed to spend nearly none of your time alone, always having some assortment of the pack by your side. Once Tuesday had rolled around, you were sure he was doing it on purpose.

You didn’t have it in your heart to question him, afraid that maybe he regret iti ted sleeping with you, or taking the relationship that far. It seemed silly to worry, since neither of you were virgins and you were basically bound together as soulmates. Still, every time you thought you’d have the courage to ask, someone would come barging through, ruining the moment.

By Thursday, you’d had enough. During a usual hang out with the pack, you’d all decided to marathon as many horror movies you could scrounge up at Blockbuster. You were curled against Paul’s side, your mind not focused at all on the movies.

Without speaking, you stood up, turning to walk through the kitchen and out the side door. You were certain Paul would follow you, and your confirmation came at the sound of the screen door falling shut.

“Y/N? Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, his voice so soft and full of concern. “Did the movies get to you?”

You laughed a little, shaking your head. “No, it’s not the movies. I’m just… what’s going on with you?”

Paul furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“It seems like ever since we… you’ve just been avoiding me.” You answered, your anger fading away.

“I don’t understand, babe. We’ve been together every day.”

You sighed, running your hand down your face. “That’s not what I meant. We’ve been with the boys every day. I don’t want to monopolize your time, but I figured, I don’t know, that we’d spend more time together? Just us, you know?”

Paul frowned, moving to close the gap between you two. “I’m sorry, I thought you liked hanging out with them.”

“I do! It’s just… was I that bad in bed that you regret it?”

Paul paused for a second, before bursting out in laughter. His head was thrown back slightly, and his whole body shook.

You slapped his arm, your eyes widening in shock. “Paul! I’m serious!”

“I know, that’s what makes it funny!” He answered, resting his hands on your hips. “Why the hell would you think I didn’t enjoy having sex with you?”

“Because it feels like you’re trying to prevent it from happening again.” You drawled, not understanding his confusion. “You’re sending me such mixed signals, honestly. You’re practically on top of me 24/7, but you’re afraid to be alone with me. I feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Paul pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That was the second most amazing day of my life, baby, believe me. I just wanted to give you some space, since we had promised to take it as friends, first. I thought I’d let you process it without feeling like you needed to discuss it with me.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re an idiot?” You questioned, grabbing his face with your hands. “Why on earth would I want space? I wanted to talk about it, dumbass.”

The door of Emily’s cabin swung open again, and Seth poked his head out. “Paul, Y/N? Everything okay?”

Paul stiffened at his voice, and turned around to tell him off. You jumped in first, pushing away from him and smiling at Seth “Yes! I just wanted to stretch my legs for a bit. We’re coming back now.”

You ambled up the wooden stairs, and pushed yourself in past the younger boy. The lights inside the living room were now on, and the half the pack was standing around.

“We decided to take a snack break,” Embry explained, opening another bag of popcorn. “Jared ate all the popcorn.”

You laughed, shaking your head at the boys’ unrelenting hunger. Emily was giving you a curious glance, and she swept across the kitchen to lean over the counter and eye you and Paul. “You two alright?”

You nodded, sending her a quick smile. You glanced back at Paul and saw his jaw was tense, and his gaze was fixated on your figure. You nudged him playfully with your shoulder, and he broke out of his trance to capture you in a hug. He pressed his chest against your back, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We need to talk, Y/N.” He spoke, his voice deep.

“Later,” you whispered, trying your best not to draw attention to yourselves.

It didn’t work. Even without their supernatural hearing, the pack had definitely picked up on the strange vibe shift between you two. You didn’t want to make things awkward, and you knew that Paul was likely delaying your conversation because he was avoiding the inevitable. Your relationship had changed, things weren’t the same as before.

Did you want to make things completely official? You’d been planning to move across the country for the last four years of your life, and attaching yourself to Paul would only complicate that further. Yet, you were already attached, in a way that no time or distance could change. You were meant to be together, and each day that passed just made that clearer.

You wiggled out of Paul’s grasp, turning around to kiss him gently, before you excused yourself to the bathroom. When you had closed and locked the door, you flipped your phone open and tried to think of some excuse to head home. It was still early, and your curfew wasn’t for another two hours. Still, you decided the best thing to do would be to leave, so you could think without prying eyes, or Paul’s intoxicating scent. You held your phone up to your ear, silently wondering why you were making such a show of it when you were alone.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” You spoke to no one, knowing that your voice would carry to the living room. “Ugh, seriously? No one else can come get you guys?”

You paused, trying to make it seem like there was your father’s soft pleas on the other end of the line. “Fine, I’ll be there in like 45. Yeah, love you too.”

You flipped your phone shut and slid it back into your pocket, before flushing the toilet and washing your hands to make things seem normal. You took a deep breath, ready for the amazing show you were about to put on. When you reappeared in the living room, you donned your best bummed face.

Paul furrowed his eyebrows at you, trying to seem like he hadn’t obviously listened into your fake phone call. “Everything alright babe?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. My parents were heading back from dinner in Port Angelous and got a flat. The jack’s in my trunk, so they need me to come get them. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut movie night short for me.” You explained, moving to put on your jacket.

Paul frowned, meeting you with your coat and helping you put it on. “Do you want me to come with you? I could help change the tire and then we could head back here when we’re done.”

You smiled and kissed him, holding his hands in yours. “As sweet as that is, I’ll probably just go home after I get to them. It’ll be easier than driving around all night. I’ll see you on Sunday though, right?”

“Right.” He repeated, his face clearly disappointed. “Well, let me at least walk you to your car.”

“Always the gentleman, Lahote.” You winked, standing on your toes to give him one last kiss, before biding everyone else a goodbye.

When you got into your car, you drove back home, your parents confused to see you so early. You explained you were tired from the day and didn’t want to be out driving late, and they appreciated your foresight.

You raced up to your room, turning on your ancient computer and waiting for it to finish loading up. You headed to your email and clinked on the acceptance link for John Hopkins, staring at the words on the white screen.

With your heart beating wildly in your chest, you clicked decline.

~~~

The party was on full swing, and your head was spinning as you stumbled outside.

“Y/N? You alright?” Mike asked, following after you.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Tyler’s been cornering me. I’m just gonna call Paul to come get me.”

Mike frowned at this, but didn’t press. Instead he pulled a brownie in a sandwich bag out of his pocket and broke it in half. “Snack for the road?”

You laughed and accepted it, eating it as you dialed the familiar number. Paul answered on the second ring, his deep voice concerned. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Can you come pick me up? I’ll text you the address.” You asked, avoiding his question.

You could hear shuffling and the jingling of keys. “On my way, where are you?”

You gave him Tyler’s address, and shortly hung up the phone, trying to pass the time until he got there. You probably had over half an hour, unless he floored it there, which you wouldn’t put past Paul.

Someone reached for your arm, and you jumped, turning to see Jessica’s smiling face. She was definitely a few drinks in at that point, but still much more sober than you were.

“Jess, you scared the hell out of me.” You enthused, grabbing her arm.

She rolled her eyes, steadying your swaying frame. “What’s this I hear about you leaving?”

“Paul’s coming to get me.”

“Y/N, you’re drunk as hell. You aren’t leaving with some random guy.” Jessica argued, her drink sloshing a bit as she flourished her arms in emphasis.

“He’s not some random guy, he’s my boyfriend.” You reminded her, giggling at her confused face. “How much have you had to drink?”

Jessica frowned, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you high right now?”

You stopped and widened your eyes. “No, I’m on the ground.

“Christ.” She muttered, smiling at you. “You’re gone.”

“I’m right here.” You joked, nudging her arm playfully.

You saw a familiar figure traipsing his way across the lawn, and Jessica followed your gaze. You weren’t sure how so much time had passed, but perhaps that had more to do with the edible in your system than anything else.

Jessica smiled widely, eyeing up Paul as he approached. “Hey, I’m Jessica.”

Paul gave her a quick glance, but his eyes returned on your messy appearance. “Paul. How much have they had to drink?”

Understanding lit up Jessica’s features. “Ooooh, you’re Paul, I see. Uhm, I’m not honestly sure. I only saw them take three shots, but they were playing beer pong for a few hours, so…”

“Lovely. Alright babe, let’s get you home.” Paul laughed, coming over to wrap his arms around you.

You nearly melted into his touch, half jumping into his strong arms. “I can’t go hooooome. Not like this.”

“I know, I know, I’m going to take you to Emily and Sam’s cabin to sober up.” He responded, as you stumbled a bit into him.

You giggled, glee filling up your face. “Oh I love it there. Will everyone else be around, too?”

Paul laughed at you, shaking his head. “Probably. Though I don’t think they’re going to be prepared for you.”

“Carry me.” You demanded, jumping up suddenly, so Paul had no choice but to catch you.

He scooped you into his grasp gently, laughing again. He thanked Jessica, who was still slightly open mouthed and staring at him.

Paul carried you and placed you in the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in before moving to the other side to get into his seat. He started the car and headed towards La Push, while you incoherently began telling him about the party. You were definitely nearly yelling, but he didn’t seem to mind.

Once you arrived at the cabin, Paul opened your door and lifted you up, cradling you against his chest. You snuggled into him a bit, inhaling his familiar scent deeply.

“Try your best to not be too obviously drunk, alright? I don’t want us to get lectured by Sam.” Paul whispered as you stepped into the porch.

You nodded furiously, but knew that Sam could probably smell the alcohol on you from where you were now. Paul opened the door and walked in, setting you down on your feet. You stumbled a bit, but leaned against his side for support, and wrapped an arm around his middle. You shot the group a wide smile, and they returned your gaze with a knowing look.

“I’ve already lost my chance to seem sober, haven’t I?” You asked, your face red and warm.

They all nodded, Quil laughing loudly. “We knew you’d be drunk as soon as Paul said he was picking you up. You don’t leave a party before 12 if you’re not super fucked up.”

Emily snipped at him for his language, while you giggled to yourself.

“Actually, for your information Mr… wait what’s your last name? You know what, it doesn’t matter. What was I saying? Oh yeah, I did not leave the party because I was too fucked up. I left because Tyler kept flirting with me and he was making me uncomfortable.” You drawled out, giggling as you struggled to find the right words to say.

Paul looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me that? I would have sorted him out.”

You giggled again, stumbling as you moved back to place a hand on his chest. “Well because Mr. Lahote, see I know what your last name is, I didn’t want you to wolf out on a stupid 17 year old at his house party. Would’ve caused a lot of problems, and I’ll be honest with you, I am waaaaaay too drunk to have helped you calm down.”

Paul stiffened a bit at your words. “You don’t think I can control myself?”

You sighed, your limbs becoming tired as the alcohol kept seeping into your body. “I don’t know, either way it would’ve made a scene. And I didn’t wanna have to explain why my boyfriend was trying to fight the party host.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, and his grasp on your waist tightened. “Boyfriend?”

You stared at him in confusion, your mind too slow to comprehend what he was confused about. “Is that the wrong word? Isn’t it boyfriend? Boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend. Well now it doesn’t even seem like a word.”

Paul laughed lightly, shaking his head. “You’ve just never called me that before.”

“Oh,” you furrowed your eyebrows, your mind beginning to process the situation. “Is… I mean is that not what this is? Are we like, platonic talking everyday, and falling asleep on the phone, and kissing? That doesn’t feel platonic to me.”

“It’s definitely not platonic, no.” He confirmed, moving forward to hold both of your hips.

You smiled up at him, standing on your toes to kiss his nose lightly. “Well, then you’re my boyfriend. Calling you my soulmate feels too cliché to me, plus other people wouldn’t understand.”

Paul laughed at you, kissing your forehead. “No, boyfriend is good. Great even. I just didn’t expect it.”

“Well that’s what you get for making me wait a week to talk to you about it.” You replied, your head lolling over on your shoulder, the weight of it becoming unnecessarily heavy. “You’re my boyfriend, Paul. Even told Jessica and everything.”

Suddenly you became overly aware of your breathing, feeling like it had become manual. You took a step back and closed your eyes as the room began to sway around you in that familiar way. Between calling Paul to pick you up and heading outside of Tyler’s house, Mike had slipped you an edible, and you had forgotten about it until this moment, until it hit you like a bus.

“Woah- you alright?” Paul asked, seeing you sway on your feet.

You giggled in response, nodding happily. “M’fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He murmured, his eyes taking in your face in concern.

You hummed a bit, falling into his arms dramatically as you laughed. “I am absolutely fantastic, actually.”

“You definitely can’t bring them home like this.” Emily commented, frowning slightly. “You both can stay here for the night.”

“I’m supposed to stay at Bella’s.” You responded, leaning back drastically so Paul had to hold you in a dip. “Oh well, now I didn’t plan on how to get back to Bella’s.”

“I’ll text my dad and tell him we’re staying here.” Bella spoke, pulling out her flip phone.

You squealed upon hearing her voice, pushing away from Paul to stumble over to the loveseat she was curled up on. “Bella! It’s Bella, oh my gosh I didn’t even see you! Bella!”

Bella laughed, shaking her head. “It’s me, Y/N.”

“How has your night been?” You asked, leaning against the armrest of her chair.

“Much less exciting than yours was, I presume.” She responded, smiling up at you.

You hummed in thought, before frowning. “My feet hurt.”

Paul walked over to you, a backpack in hand. “Alright, let’s get you comfortable.”

Bella stood up to give you her seat, and you plopped down numbly, giggling as you ran your hands over the soft blanket that she had left behind. Paul kneeled down in front of you, and you furrowed your eyebrows as he unzipped the backpack.

“What is that?” You asked, leaning forward in interest.

Paul chuckled, unzipping your heels and tugging them off, before replacing them with a pair of soft fuzzy socks. “It’s my go bag for you. I figured since you’d be spending a lot of time down here, I should have a stock of things you might need, that way you’re always comfortable.”

You leaned forward even more, peering down into it. “What did you get for it?”

“Uhm, let’s see… the socks, makeup remover wipes, deodorant, hair ties, a hair brush, tooth brush, toothpaste, pads, tampons, chocolate, pain killers, and some snacks so your blood sugar doesn’t get low again. Oh, and I have a pair of my pajamas in here as well, just in case.” He responded, digging through the bag as he spoke.

You didn’t reply, staring at him wide eyed. Paul shifted under your gaze, discomfort flooding through his body.

“Is that weird? I wanted to help make the transition of being here easier on you. Emily helped me pick things out. I live with my dad and brothers, so I didn’t have any of this stuff at my house. I didn’t want you to need something and not have it.” He spoke, rambling a bit as he became nervous.

You giggled, falling back into the chair and wiggling your toes in the fuzzy socks excitedly. “I am absolutely going to marry you one day, Paul Lahote.”

Paul paused at your words like he was stunned, before shaking his head and standing up. “Alright, let’s go get you changed into the pajamas. You can’t be comfortable in those clothes.”

You knew he was right- the tight red skirt and black bralette were both revealing and uncomfortable- but the thought of getting changed seemed like too much work. The room was still spinning, and your high was making you sleepy. “You can’t be comfortable in your clothes.”

He laughed, leaning forward to grab your hands and pull you up. “Jeez, Y/N, if you wanted me out of my clothes that badly, you should’ve said so earlier.”

You giggled at him, realizing how short you were without the aid of your heels. “You didn’t give me the chance, unless you wanted me to ask in front of the whole pack.”

“Do you need help getting changed?” Paul asked, holding tightly onto your waist, and doing his best to ignore your comment.

“Mmmm… maybe. It seems hard.” You replied, closing your eyes and resting your hands on his forearms. “Everything is hard. Except your skin, it’s so soft. Are you always this soft?”

“Uhm, I think so? Are you sure you’re alright?” He questioned, tilting his head at you.

You giggled in response, opening your eyes to look at him. “Can I tell you a secret? You can’t tell anyone else, okay? Mom and dad will get mad.”

“Mom and dad?” Bella repeated, confused.

You rolled your head to the side, resting it on your shoulder to look at her. “Yes, Sam and Emily. Mom and dad, or I guess dad and mom.”

“I could see that.” She replied, smiling.

“Right. Well, don’t tell them, but Mike gave me a special brownie.”

Paul sighed, wrapping his other arm around your waist. “So you’re cross faded right now?”

You hummed in response, pausing at the look on his face. “You don’t seem happy with me. I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have called. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”

“No, no, no. I’m glad you did, baby. I just don’t have much experience caring for intoxicated people, and the weed isn’t going to help any.” He admitted, ushering you off toward the bathroom.

You stumbled into it, and Paul shut the door behind him as he placed the backpack on the counter. He began pulling things out, and you sat down on the toilet lid to wait. The room was still swaying slightly, and you felt uncomfortably warm with the substances flowing through you.

Paul grabbed your hands and stood you up again, his hands moving to your skirt before freezing. He silently asked for your permission, and you nodded. He unzipped the red fabric, and pulled it down your now bare legs. He kept his face forward as he held out his pajama pants for you to step into, and you held onto the counter as you did. Once they were on, he tied them tightly around your waist so they wouldn’t fall.

Paul looked at your bralette in confusion, trying to figure out a way to get it off of you. You giggled a bit, turning around to reveal the zipper that kept it together. He didn’t hesitate, pulling the metal down as the fabric split in half, and he tossed it on the floor. You felt him stiffen at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra, and you turned around without hesitation. He kept his eyes trained on your face as he slid the shirt over your head, and you pushed your arms through it. He then sat you back down on the toilet, and took out a makeup remover wipe, before cleaning your face of the few layers you had painted on.

You felt your heart swell as he worked, watching the intense concentration on his face. You’d never had a guy treat you so gently and affectionately before, and it was taking everything in you not to wrap your arms around him. When he was finished, he pulled out your updo and had you turn to the side. Gently, he brushed your hair out of its knots, and ended up braiding it.

“Wow you’re good at that.” You admired, holding the finished product in your hair.

Paul laughed, picking up your clothes, and zipping them into the backpack. “My hair used to be longer than yours.”

You tried to imagine that, but your brain couldn’t come up with a steady image. “You should grow it out again.”

Paul smiled at you. “Maybe one day, darling. Let’s get you back to the living room, alright?”

You nodded and stood up, immediately stumbling again. Paul wrapped an arm around you, and you looked up at him. You took one of your hands and pulled his face towards yours, trapping his lips in a passionate kiss. You felt such an intense desire to have more of him, to have all of him right then and there. You tried to deepen the kiss, and his grip on your waist tightened. He let the bag fall to the floor, and pressed you back against the counter of the sink. Instinctively you hopped onto it, and wrapped your legs around his waist, before returning your lips to his. He groaned slightly, and to your displeasure, he pulled away.

“Y/N, you’re drunk. You should go lay down on the couch.” Paul spoke, backing out of your grasp.

You hummed in annoyance. “Or we could stay here. I mean, no one has to know.”

He shook his head, picking up the bag again and grabbing your hand. “Doesn’t matter, baby. You’re still drunk.”

You sighed, hopping off the counter and slipping, while muttering to yourself. “Jeez, no drunk hookups for us?”

Paul didn’t respond, he just returned his hand to your waist to steady you and pulled you into the living room. You returned to the love seat, and smiled to yourself, brushing your hands along the fuzzy blanket again.

“This is the best place in the world.” You mused, squeezing it between your fingers. “This house, all of you. I can’t imagine being somewhere better.”

Paul shot you a weird look. “You’re an affectionate drunk, huh?”

You laughed, letting your head loll to your right shoulder as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Depends on the situation. Usually I’m a horny drunk, but you shot that down in the bathroom.”

Jared and Quil burst out laughing, before Paul shot them a death glare. Emily moved to the kitchen and handed you a glass of water, and you took it with a shaking hand. You nearly spilled it on yourself as you felt your arm jerk unexpectedly.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Why are you shaking that badly?” Paul asked, kneeling down to be level with you.

You dismissed him with your freehand. “Happens when I smoke too much.”

He frowned. “When did you smoke?”

“Sometime before playing pong. It’ll go away soon, it happens all the time.” You answered, reaching out to play with his hair affectionately. “Your hair is so soft. You really should grow it out again. Maybe I can learn to braid then.”

Paul rolled his eyes, standing up and squeezing next to you on the loveseat. “You can’t braid hair?”

You shook your head, drinking half the glass of water before handing it to him for safe keeping. “You shouldn’t trust me with glass. I always break glasses when I drink. Mike nearly banned me from coming over after I shattered 2 of his mom’s in the same night.”

Emily took the glass out of Paul’s grasp, and returned instead with a plastic cup. The room was mostly silent, and you realized that you were something of a spectacle to them. It made you almost sad, knowing that none of them got the typical high school experience, or could even really get drunk since their bodies were so warm and they burned the alcohol off easily.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, sweeping the room with your eyes before looking at Paul. “I should call someone to come get me. I’ve intruded on your evening.”

Paul frowned, placing an arm around your shoulders. “You haven’t intruded on anything, okay? I’d rather be the one to take care of you while your drunk, that way I know you’re safe.”

“Okay, thank you. For coming to get me. I appreciate it a lot. I got really overwhelmed being there tonight, which I’m going to assume had something to do with the shots Mike kept handing me while we were playing pong. I’m only really good at it when I’m drunk, you know. We’re the champions of our grade- nearly undefeated.” You babbled, reaching up to play with his hair again.

“You seem to go to a lot of parties.” Emily frowned, her voice worried, not judgmental.

“I mean, yeah. It’s senior year, you know? Everyone’s getting ready to adjust to the college party scene. Except me, of course.” You laughed, smiling widely. “I’m not going to college anymore.”

Paul sucked in a sharp breath. “Wait, what do you mean you’re not going to college anymore?”

You smiled at him, running a hand down his toned chest before returning it to your lap. “I mean, I’m going to go to Forks Community College, then I’ll probably transfer to SU to finish my degree.”

“But that’s not what you want. You wanted to go off to the East Coast. I know you got in to John Hopkins, so why aren’t you going?” He questioned, his face concerned.

You giggled a bit, rolling your eyes. “I can’t leave you, obviously. I hate not seeing you for a day. Do you think we’d survive being apart for 5 month stretches?”

“We’d figure it out. I don’t want you to give up on your dreams for me, ever. That’s not something you should have to compromise.” Paul argued, his face incredibly serious.

You shrugged, drinking more of your water before returning it to his hands. “Doesn’t matter, I made the decision already and declined Hopkins. I can study biology here just as well as I can out there.”

Paul sighed, cupping your face gently. “I wish you would’ve talked to me about it. I would’ve encouraged you to follow your dreams, go where you need to be.”

“I am. I mean, I went back and forth a lot before I made up my mind. Tonight just made it so clear, you know? The whole time I was at that stupid party, all I could think about was how much better it would’ve been if you were there. I don’t want to go off and get drunk in a frat house, I don’t want to go anywhere away from you.” You admitted, shrugging at him. “I never had a reason to stay in Forks, but now I do.”

Paul seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he just smiled at you and handed you the glass of water. You continued drinking it, falling somewhere lost in your thoughts. You stayed silent, mind focused on the boy next to you, and the trajectory of your life now.

“What’re you thinking about?” Paul asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

You finished your drink and handed the empty cup back to him. “Fate, I guess.”

“Fate?” He echoed.

You hummed, smiling. “Fate. It’s what brought us together, isn’t it?”

“Dunno, haven’t thought about it.”

“Well, I have. And I’ve decided it’s fate. For us to have met on the beach, you to have broken my nose. All of it had to happen exactly as it did for us to end up together.” You concluded, nodding as you spoke.

Paul smiled and ran his hands down your arms. “Fate it is, then.”

You smiled back, before your face fell in realization. “Oh, I should’ve talked to you before calling you my boyfriend.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“No! That’s a big step. We were just friends, but then I mean, we slept together Paul. That’s not something friends do.” You emphasized, your eyes widening.

“It is if you’ve got the right friends.” Quil suggested, which earned him an uncomfortable look from the rest of the room.

“Why don’t we talk about this in the morning, when you’re sober, okay?” Paul suggested softly. “And when we’re alone.”

You groaned, rubbing your itchy eyes dramatically. “It’s not like they won’t just hear about it later, anyway. What’s the point in having a private conversation if they can just read your mind?”

Paul sighed, frowning at you. “Doesn’t mean they have to witness everything first hand, you know.”

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter. I just don’t want you to be mad at me for calling you my boyfriend. I didn’t think about it, I guess. It just felt right.” You continued, pursing your lips. “Once I said it to Jess, it was like I had said it a million times before.”

“Please don’t hold it against yourself, baby. I would’ve let you call me your boyfriend the day we met if you’d wanted to.” He confessed, his face a bit dazed. “You took me by surprise, but there’s nothing else I’d rather be.”

You smiled at him, licking your lips as you realized how dry your mouth was. Emily refilled your water, and you took large gulps before talking again. “What was the best day of your life?”

“What?”

You giggled a bit, sitting up straighter. “You said that the second best day of your life was when we slept together. So what was the first?”

Paul looked away from you, suddenly finding your hands interesting. “Dunno how you’re still so with it when you’re this far gone.”

“It’s a talent, really. I can’t walk for shit, but I can talk coherently, and run from the cops. Or danger, probably. But then again, I guess there is no danger when I’m here. You’d never let anyone hurt me.” You mused, pushing your hands against his chest and shaking him gently. “Stop avoiding my question.”

He sighed, looking at you with feigned annoyance. “The day I met you.”

You laughed, your whole body shaking and convulsing, tears falling out of your eyes. You couldn’t help yourself, though what you found funny about his answer, you weren’t quite sure.

Jared whistled lowly, quirking a smile across his tan face. “Even your partner things your answer is dumb.”

You spoke through giggles, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “No, it’s sweet. The best answer I could’ve imagined. I just didn’t expect it, so it was funny.”

Paul chuckled at you, pulling you against his chest to kiss your head. “You’re a mess right now, babe.”

“And you get to deal with it for the rest of your life. Aren’t you a lucky man?”

“The luckiest man alive.”

~~~

Tag List:

@sorrow-and-bliss @fangirling-4-ever @emme-looou @swidkid @sunsetevergreen @yourwonkywriter @avis15 @shawrs @rottenstyx

Comment, message, reply to be added!

#twilight #paul lahote #leah clearwater #sam uley #embry call #jacob black #quil ateara #wolf pack #seth clearwater #paul lahote x you #twilight wolf pack #jared cameron #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x y/n

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myriadeyed · 7 months

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How do we all feel about questioning posts that are way too long because I originally wrote them on Dreamwidth and was just having so much fun constructing them like some kind of prose

I'm starting to think that sometimes, maybe the best answers are the simplest ones, that you came up with right away before then overcomplicating things with forced "cool" or "rare" answers. Answers that make the most sense because they're so obvious as to be staring you right in the face, and not answers that you had to scrounge up from circumstantial subconscious fragments. Red-tailed hawk was the second theriotype I ever confirmed, and the first bird one. I've always been a buteo, and I knew that, but I went with Harris's hawk instead for so long. I guess it was because I knew red-tail was the "basic" bird kintype and thought people would think not that I was faking, but that I didn't actually do any research or have expertise on birds and went with red-tail because it was the only one I knew, which is almost a worse libel to me. Or because I felt like red-tail was too obvious, too simple, too easy, maybe too influenced by media and what's always been more popular? Early on in my blog I had even written a whole post, which blew up (well, for therian Tumblr standards), about the importance of looking into other predatory birds before one confirms red-tailed hawk, so the idea of then confirming it myself felt almost fraudulent, like I was a con artist.

Ever since accepting I'm also a red-tail, while I thought I was both, I just can't see myself as a Harris's hawk. It doesn't come naturally, it feels forced. I had this same problem summer of last year after I had been trying to explain why I felt like a hawk and decided on Harris's hawk, but "demoted" it to just a familiar cameo shift because it just didn't feel like I was being genuine. It felt like a mask. I had thought the problem was that I was too many different species, I had too many theriotypes, some of them were just wanting to be something, and I needed to Occam's razor down what was real and what was wishful thinking, and Harris's hawk was the first to go. But since then, I have confirmed additional theriotypes -- sea slater, mosasaur, as examples -- and harmoniously, with mental equilibrium. And it wasn't the first time I confirmed Harris's hawk only to feel like it was just off. The problem was the species, and this past August when I really truly accepted being a polytherian instead of trying to reduce reuse recycle with my theriotypes constantly and force myself down to three or four like I was shaving down a wood sculpture, which meant I accepted being a red-tail too (after so long too! Almost seven years), I was suddenly so much more focused on being a red-tail than I ever was on being a Harris's hawk. I just didn't feel like Harris's was important. It was like having a textbook that I loved reading, but then one day I got a shiny newer, updated version, and pretending like the old version was still my favorite had no point, because it was outdated and wasn't accurate.

Anyway, with all that being said, I think I have narrowed down my red-tailed species, which frankly feels more significant to me than being a Harris's hawk at all did. I see myself most in a paler color morph, but not completely white like a leucistic. I am drawn to both central northern American habitats like those in Alberta or Wyoming, and south western American desert habitats like places in Arizona and New Mexico. One of the reasons for clinging to Harris's hawk was that I felt so strongly about being a desert hawk, but felt like I must be a red-tail that lived in greener areas. I did not consider the possibility of a migratory subspecies that winters in the Sonoran.

May I introduce the Krider's hawk, Buteo jamaicensis kriderii, my specific subspecies. While much lighter in color than most red-tails, I am actually a particularly dark-colored individual of this subspecies. I see myself so gracefully in these photos.

I feel so at peace with this. I'm not a Harris's hawk, and more importantly, what makes this not like the last few times I de-confirmed Harris's hawk, I know what I am. I can send this piece of my personal history off to sea, finally satisfied with its closure.

#decipherings #therian #alterhuman #birdkin #hawkkin #← so followers know what they're getting into before they open it

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blueikeproductions · 10 months

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So another EarthSpark thing that came to my attention was Ratchet and Drift were pitched into being in EarthSpark.

Neat.

They were pitched as having trying to look at the Cyber Sleeves the kids had, with Ratchet and Drift having scientific and philosophical thoughts on what they are despite not having a solid answer.

Also neat.

They were also pitched as being married.

Not neat.

This stranglehold IDW has over Transformers needs to end yesterday. I liked IDW, but it’s clear Hasbro wasn’t feeling it anymore, and the attempt at a reboot didn’t help. Not to mention, toys made with the IDW cast in mind don’t appear to sell well. Tarn appears to be the exception, because it’s Tarn, and he’s awesome, but I’ve also never personally seen him in person in stores. Fellow comics original Jhiaxus yes however, so take that as you will. It’s also why so many people were surprised two nobody IDW2 robots, an Autobot and an Acenticon, were getting toys. Even hard core fans have no idea who they are or much desire for these two, and I say that with my open fondness for Autobot Scrounge.

The couplings in IDW always felt kinda forced… I’ve often viewed them as crack ships, some working slightly better than others. I thought Chromedome and Rewind was handled the best, and I’d be very open to seeing them in EarthSpark as (one of) the gay couple(s) in the show.

Drift and Ratchet being a couple comes kind of out of nowhere. I get there was this opposites attract thing going on with an atheist and religious guy, but the joke got old quickly. Besides some implications Drift and Rodimus were more of a thing, age differences are a sticky point for me. A lot of the main couples amounted to twenty something kid hooking up with grandpa or grandma. I know age is more of a suggestion in TFs, but it always bothered me. Tailgate Cyclonus also fall into this for me, but I also preferred their dynamic being a plucky son and stand offish father learning to care for each other. The moment it became romantic I lost interest and felt kinda creeped out T’be honest. Same with Drift and Ratchet. Ratchet’s said to be super old, not quite Kup or Alpha Trion old, but he’s up there. Drift in comparison is about Hot Rod’s age, and met Ratchet at a clinic on Cybertron when Ratchet was already older than dirt… The two being a crusty grandpa who loved his grandson but doesn’t quite get his interests was a dynamic I liked.

I just think there’s better options romantically for Drift and Ratchet. Closer in age too. I imagine in the interest of fairness the EarthSpark versions would be closer in age. RiD15 Drift, to me at least, seemed a bit older than Bumblebee and was more of a stern but well meaning uncle/father to Sideswipe, Jetstorm and Slipstream. Prime Ratchet felt married to his job meanwhile…

Admittedly I’m surprised Drift was entertained at all. A lot of the IDW original characters seem to have been benched in media for the time being, and Drift’s role in Cyberverse was lauded as the most idiotic thing the show did for both supporters and detractors that even the writers regret using him that way. It kinda feels like that particular instant sorta sullied the character for some frankly…

If we do get Ratchet back in particular, since we have Steve Blum reprising Starscream, I say let’s get Jeffery Combs to reprise Ratchet. Drift I’m not sure. It’s easy for me to say Eric Bauza should return, but maybe there’s a better alternative for a potential EarthSpark Drift.

I don’t think you can really do the proposed plot anymore since that ship has sailed, but there’s a role for Ratchet and Drift, just not as a couple. Ideally, just make a new couple. Gears having a boyfriend would be funny, someone who can see through his sourball antics, or give Pipes an aquatic mode boyfriend he was wanting. -checks- Hmm I dunno have it be Pipes and Waverider, that could be fun.

#blueike productions #transformers #blueike #autobots #decepticons #maccadam #macadam #transformers earthspark

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ladyazzyscoffeecorner · 2 months

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Makoto Needs to Punch Something and/or Gourdeno as a Minor Deity!

Okay so "Makoto Needs to Punch Something" is from Persona 5! I'm not sure how many people who've read my Arise fics have also read my Persona 5 fics, if anyone at all, but this was from when I was deep into character studies and trying to push myself to get back into writing well before Arise released. What I have posted in that fandom isn't particularlly long or revolutionary, but they were fun to write! This is what I had for this WIP, and I think at some point I'd like to return to it and complete this, even if it's short. "Makoto needed to punch something.

It was a bold statement tucked away in her head while she felt an unease under her skin like rolling waves, manifested in the tight grip on her bag and prim smile plastered to her face. Didn’t she say goodbye to being the obedient Student Council President already?

That thought raced through her mind even as she thought of the work piled on her from her position, school work and the Phantom Thieves. It was never ending. A sprial with no end in sight." --- Now "Gourdeno as a Minor Deity" is fun. It spawned from the KtFA discord and one of the many conversations we had there. I needed an answer to how Gourdeno managed to travel between the realms as well as trying to do some world building around the optional Spirit Boss fights we get in Arise. This ended up being the result. The biggest obstacle I have here is I need to either replay Arise or I need to watch the Gourdeno quests to finish this potential one-shot off. Or maybe two-shot depending on the content within BtD because I still need to finish that. I hope you enjoy what I've written so far! "The shape of the world had changed many times over the years. Gourdeno only vaguely remembered them, his memory fading with the ebb and flow of time. Despite the many hours he travelled the length of Dahna, he found himself constantly looking to the road whenever he rested. There was never a shortage of people enthralled by the recipes he would bring and the food that he could scrounge up. Every village greeted him with joy and a place to tell his stories by their hearth. There had always been enough food and time to spare. At least there used to be. Dahna had taken on an odd shape when the angular red creatures invaded. Clans of mages had gone missing, and the remaining clans had become reclusive. Despite his status as a minor spirit, when he did find their settlements, they started to turn him away for fear it was some new trick. A false moon hung in the sky, always staying between Dahna and the proclaimed Rena. Gourdeno remembered a time of infant planets that stretched too far out stars and wondered what had changed since their birth.

It was around the same time that the major deities that ruled over the elements began to slumber. He missed seeing their lumbering forms decorate the earth and sky. The gentle calls they sent out to their brethren suddenly being silenced left an ache in his heart he had never experienced before, and it chilled him to his core far more than the mages who regarded the major deities as their gods turning away had. As the red creatures scattered across Dahna, he found himself lost on the road. Settlements began to view him with suspicion, and his heart ached for the times when they greeted him with cheer. Still, there were enough people who believed that the gods would walk the earth and would offer kindness to strangers. The stories of wondering gods had not been erased. But it had been a long time since he had seen any of the fellow deities that used to walk the planet with him. He only hoped that they had slept much like the major deities that had fallen into slumber with the stolen mage clans.

That changed when the stolen children of Dahna returned, proclaiming they were instead the children of Rena. As they decimated the settlements and enslaved their brethren, Gourdeno wondered what had happened to allow such horrors to exist on his fair home. A chill had begun to set in on his being, and he knew without a doubt that his brethren either slumbered or were gone from the world. They relied on the belief of others to sustain themselves, and Gourdeno had not seen them in an age. It tugged at his heart as he travelled among the newly enslaved children of Dahna, and his heart broke when he found he had little to offer them in the face of their plight. Food became scarce, and even he was limited in the delights of food. He guarded his recipes while he hid among the shadows from the red creatures. He didn’t know if they were truly aware of what slumbered within the planet itself, but he didn’t dare reveal himself in case they did. Regardless, the red creatures seemed obsessed with the newly minted Lords that governed the five areas of Dahna. As Gourdeno slipped between the realms, he saw firsthand how the astral energy being harvested was changing the landscape. Once lush grounds turned to barren rock and dust while greenery grew in abundance, not two realms over. One realm had its warmth completely stolen, pooling into the barren land while it lived in perpetual night. Dust was thick in the air of another realm, and the wind whistled sharply against the rock face. Lastly, the realm that he had been most fond of became submerged in water, turning into a nightmare to travel.

It wasn’t until years later, as he was face down in a cold snow bank, that his hope started to fade. It had been centuries of scarcity and Gourdeno was so very tired of the perpetual hunger that gnawed at him. Would he fade too?"

#Persona 5 #makoto niijima #WIP #one-shot #i write things #ao3 writer #tales of arise #Gourdeno #Listen I think the foodie man is not-so-secretly a spirit himself bouncing between the realms in Arise and he demands food as tribute #Shionne would treat him as her patron saint and I don't think anyone can convince me otherwise #I just think these characters are neat

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dittomander · 1 year

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honestly as a fanfic writer, the fact that like 90% of the eoa magic system is knowledge exclusive to Mateo is such a wildly freeing thing. he had to teach himself magic based off whatever limited resources he could scrounge up in his basement, written primarily in a language he also had to teach himself, that he had no one else to practice with, and he had no one he could get feedback or support from

(and even post-series, all the other wizards he has regular contact with are vastly less experienced than him, if not his students outright)

so whenever there's a discrepancy in how the magic system works, or if there's something that doesn't make sense about it, instead of handwaving it as "well it's magic so it doesn't have to make sense" I can instead say "okay but what if Mateo is just misinformed", and then I get to play around with how it might *actually* work and how Mateo might have been doing the magic equivalent of doing the wrong calculations to get the right answer.

because like. he doesn't know. it's impossible for him to know exactly what Avaloran magic was like Before Shuriki, because there are no wizards left from Before Shuriki. he could just have wrong assumptions sometimes. and he would have no way of knowing that. and that's so much fun to play with.

#elena of avalor #eoa #mateo de alva #the sheer *potential* of 'mateo meets other wizards' fics...

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arlenianchronicles · 1 year

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Hi I am very interested your dark!Mae AU.I feel sorry for Maedros and twin, especially how much crap Maedros had to go through. But I have some questions, don't have to answer them all. 1) So in this Au Melkor wins and takes over the whole of Middle-earth.But what about the other Valar? Have they left Arda or are they still Aman. if they are, why don't they do anything. Or are all of them trapped in the Door of Night? 2) What happened to celebrimbor or galadriel, are they still alive.How did

Hello, anon! I'm happy to answer your questions as best as I can! (and I think one of your questions got cut off at the end there; feel free to send it in another ask if you want!)

About the Valar, that's something that I haven't really thought about yet ^^;; So allow me to brainstorm on the spot! XDD I think they would've attempted to fight Morgoth once they lost the War of Wrath, but the problem is that they would've likely destroyed Arda in the process, or at least damaged it badly (like with the Battle of the Powers at the beginning of the Silm) -- and any Elf/human/Dwarf allies still standing would be caught in the onslaught. I believe that's one of the main reasons why the Valar never directly fought with Morgoth throughout the Silm (aside from the Battle I mentioned) because the resulting war would just be destructive and devastating.

From what I understand, the Valar (and Maiar) cannot leave Arda until the end of the world. Their power is contained and bound to the world, hence their title of Powers. That being said, some of them could've fallen during this second war with Morgoth, and maybe others were thrown through the Door of Night! I can definitely see Morgoth doing that, while keeping a few as his prized prisoners for different reasons (like Manwe, Varda, Arien, etc.)

As for the Valar and Maiar who survive the war, I think they'd join up with the surviving Children and bring them far East to a place that's not yet completely under Morgoth's control, and hold off his forces from there. They'd likely form a rebellion of sorts, but since Middle-earth is almost entirely overrun, it would likely take a while to plan and sort out everything, and ensure the safety of survivors -- kinda like in The Last of Us, where Jacksonville is a self-sufficient town of survivors, walled off like a fortress against the infected and other human groups that might try to harm them.

And this leads to your second question! I think Galadriel and Celebrimbor, along with their respective Elf groups, would've been forced to separate from the other allies and retreat after the War of Wrath. They'd be hunted down by Morgoth's forces, but once the Valar decide to get directly involved, their Maiar would bring the remaining Elves/Men/Dwarves far away to a safer spot. But they wouldn't be able to gather everybody due to how much Morgoth's forces have scattered them, and there isn't much time to scrounge up everybody when the Valar are gearing up for a second big battle.

So Galadriel and Celebrimbor are likely still alive when the twins arrive in the Second Age! As for whether the twins hear anything about them, or if the survivors will launch some attack, I'm not sure yet ^^;;

Thanks for sending me your questions, anon! It really pushes me to develop the AU further (and brainstorming on the fly is lots of fun, too! XDDD)

#asks #anon asks #tolkien #silmarillion #au #dark maedhros #elrond #elros #valar #maiar #galadriel #celebrimbor #maedhros

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a-s-levynn · 8 months

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Firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)

so i'm gonna attempt to answer all 6 of these in one go under this one but wow.. 30? hooo boy.. let's get to it, and see how many i can manage to scrounge together

ps. up front: It took a bit actually to finish it, it kinda consumed my past day and a half but y'all this was such an exercise in self reflection because you really have to think what is it you actually like or are proud of about yourself not just list 2-3 surface lvl copout. And it turns out can be a lot more than expected. It can be small things and weird things and unconventional things. Just things. It also was such an unexpected morale boost, like.. yo.. i actually don't hate myself as much as i thought?

(also sorry for typos in advance i didn't have the mind or time to correct them, maybe later)

1. Let's start easy. My hair. The natural curls it has. I hated it for so long but by now i enjoying them so much, especially the past year or so when it got longer. (imagine will ramos type curls. it's dead on i just don't have that thick of a mane) I stil lstraighten it occasionally but not nearly as much as i used to. Also in the summer the ends go red 'cause of the sun lightening it up, which ends me up with a real fun natural kind of ombre.

2. I'm a good problem solver. I can be awful practical at times but it helps with situations that needs solving instead of panicking.

3. I kinda like the fact that despite my loath of cooking/baking and all foodmaking in general, i am a pretty good cook.

4. I'm a good listener. At least i like to think i'm a good listener.

5. I'm a fast learner especially if it is shown prolerly step by step once.

6. I'm not the most creative person on the planet but i'm fairly decent and i like that.

7. You know what, i'm actually proud of the effort i make to be judgemental as little as i can. Because nobody is perfect but i actually do try and for most part it's going great.

8. This ties into the 2nd one but i like the fact that i can be objective to a degree that i'm able to emotionally detach from situations to the point that i can assess them level headed.

9. And on that note i'm stupiddly self aware. Of my faults and shortcomings as well as my capabilieties (however limited they are) and it helps me a lot to work on myself to be a decent human being.

10. I'm really good at eyeballing things. Like for example back when i did cosplays i usually didn't had to do any sort of mental gimnastics or calculations to figure out how large my props should be. 9 out of 10 times the first draft was perfectly sized.

11. To think of it i like the fact that i not just realized but accepted that i'm not perfect, never wíll be but that is okay.

12. I'm proud of the fact that i know i'm not the smartest person in the room, ever. I'm not smart academically speaking. I'm more practical-smart, but i'm not all knowing and the knowledge of that makes me want to learn shit. Ther eis always room for improvement and learning.

13. High pain tolerance.

14. Honestly i like that i made it up until now in life and still going. It wasn't always a sure thing but for the most part i'm liking the fact that it happend. That i made it.

15. I like being on a good path with being unapologetic about who i am, what i like and why am i the way i am.

16. I'm actually good negotiator if i make an effort. I'm fairly good at diffusing arguments.

17. This is a funny one but i like that i can identify people i know by their movements from far away. See, my eyesight isn't the best so i usually memorized bodylanguage faster than faces since i was a teenager. So it lead to some fun situations like me and someone else waiting for a third and i was like yeah they are like 500 m away so you can't see the face or anything but i already knew it's the person we are waiting and people go like "wow how did you know?"

18. As messy as it is i like how my handwriting can be so varied. I learned to write tilted cursive but my grandma forced me to learn non-tilted cursive and later i started to use non cursive and it became this weird amalgamation and now i can write in a lot of different aesthetics and i like it. Also made me the go to person for forged singitures back at school but that's an other story..

19. I like the fact that i don't hold grudges. I feel like they are a waste of time and energy and just weigh you down. So i can just.. go past them. I know shit happend, i acknowledge it but i'm not agonizing over it.

20. I like the fun fact that for elementary school i wasn't put into the music specialization because i had good hearing and a decent voice but because i had unusual rythm sense for my age at that time. Than i learned to sing okay but it was so funny. Everyone around me got in because they could sing and i was just riddiculously good at replicating rythmic excercises. (crying shame my father sold out the drumkit from under my ass before i could have really gotten deep into it.. i might've ended up on a different life path.. i mean i did play bass for a time but it wasn't the same, altho i kinda feel the itch to pick it back up again for a few years now just for amusing myself at home)

21. I like the fact that dispite the school system's damnest efforts i still do a lot of thing with my left hand. I was ambidextous since birth but out ancient education system think it's better if every kid is right handed. But my parent's didn't gave a shit, just let me do my stuff however it was comfy for me. So i use for example knives with my left but write with my right, that sort of mixups. It's fun how it can confuse others when they don't know the bg story for it.

22. Honestly i joke about my eyecolour being the literal colour of goose shit but i say that because i find it extremely funny and i like weirdly funny things in general.

23. I like the fact that (as per my knowledge) i'm not allergic to anything. With the level of nihilism i sport on the self-preservation front it would have been an interesting thing.

24. On the artsy and craftsy front i can work with multiple mediums which is fun. When i feel like drawing on paper i can, when is feel like paintig i could, i can do papermashe, amateur jewellery making, sewing, i can also do paper forlding, photography, and as you saw if i have the fancy to dabble in sculpting i have a decent shot for it not turning out terrible. I'm not amazing in any of them but i'm decent enough that i'm not just enjoying the process but i actually like a fair amount of the end results.

25. I'm good with maps and navigation in general. It's very rare for me to get lost at all. (only exception is large buildings.. i'm practically direction blind in closed spaces)

26. I love the fact the i learned english essentially by playing online video games, reading comics and watching movies. Now i have an official exam paper thingie but it was an aftertought for my resumé more than anything else.

27. I like that i'm basically friends with my mom.

28. An other funny one but i find it amusing that if you talk to me about something, even if i have no idea about what you are talking about it, but if you are excited i'm going to mirror you level of excitement without conscientiously trying to do it.

29. I like my sense of aesthetics in general.

30. And i like the fact that i can pick up on the most random small details and be unreasonably excited about it. I like being excited about stuff. You know, child-like wonder and all that i guess. Dunno, i just like it.

And that is it. It was a lot but yeah.. Have a bonus cozy sleeping cat if you chew all this text:

#levynn answers #anon ask

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the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink · 2 years

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Frustration (Mikey Way x reader)

Kinktober day 6: Angry make-up sex

Summary: After a friend posts a picture of (y/n) having fun with them, Mikey finds that he’s rather jealous - and his insecurity leads to an argument that can only be resolved one way.

Word count: 1471

Warnings: silly little argument + conflicty stuff, dubious consent (like there’s no clear no, but also no clear yes - it’s just heavily suggested that our reader is fine with what’s happening) ,degradation

“Hey, I’m home.”

When their boyfriend didn’t answer, (y/n) stuck their head around the door frame, concerned. He was sat at the kitchen table staring at his phone with a deep frown. “Mikes? Is something wrong?”

A muscle in the side of his face twitched slightly. “You went out wearing that?”

They glanced down at the very short shorts they had chosen to go out in. “Yeah. You saw me when I left… what is it, what’s up?”

He shook his head in disbelief, holding his phone out. “This.”

It showed the photo their friend had posted on Instagram earlier, one (y/n) had loved. There were eight of them crammed into a tiny booth seat at the pub, legs tangled over each others laps and arms around waists or shoulders. Everyone was dying with laughter and nobody was looking at the camera - it was the perfect semi-candid shot. “Okay, what about it?”

“You think it’s appropriate to go acting like that in public?”

They rolled their eyes at his tone. “We were out for a couple of drinks, not whoring ourselves out on street corners. And nothing I ordered had booze in, before you ask. I was just having fun. It’s hardly illegal.”

That didn’t seem to help his temper at all. “Okay, but why are you getting so… personal with people in public?”

“They aren’t just people, Mikey, they’re my friends. Why is this bothering you so much?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He huffed sarcastically. “Maybe it’s because you’re my partner. You’re taken. You shouldn’t be out showing yourself off like you’re single.”

Their eyes narrowed. “Showing myself off? I was hardly doing that. Hell, you were invited! If you were so concerned about me having fun with people without you then you should have come along.”

“What, so I could sit there and watch you drape yourself over a whole host of random people?”

“They’re my friends!” Their jaw dropped, furious that he was being so childish. “You know, some of us are capable of making friends with people without having to scrounge them off an older sibling.”

Something in him snapped at that dig. “Say that again. I fucking dare you.”

(y/n) snorted. “What, you think you’re all big and scary because you’re six inches taller than me? Get fucking real.”

Suddenly they found themselves pinned against the wall, Mikey’s leg shoved between theirs and a familiar hardness pressing against their stomach as he glared down at them. “You’re gonna pay for that.” He didn’t give them the chance to respond, slamming his lips into theirs and tugging firmly at the handful of hair he’d seized. Judging by the way they moaned against his actions, he was doing the right thing.

Breaking the kiss, he manhandled them through the doorway to their bedroom. “Strip. And kneel.”

They scoffed, arms folded. “Make me.”

This time when he kissed them, his hand kept such a tight grip on their throat that their mind was going fuzzy from lack of blood. When he finally released them he fixed them with a glare that made their hair stand on end.

“Next time you say no to me, I won’t touch you at all. I’ll tie you up and make you watch as I get off all by myself while you’ve got no way of doing the same. Is that what you want?”

(y/n) shook their head, and he smirked. “That’s what I thought. Now strip.”

They’d barely finished removing the last item of clothing when he moved to stand directly in front of them and pushed them to the floor, also totally naked himself. “Open your mouth.”

“No.”

“You’re really pushing your luck today, aren’t you?” He seized their chin tightly, squeezing until their mouth hung open. Scanning their face for any sign of doubt or worry - there was none - he rammed his dick into their mouth before they could talk back, groaning as they gagged a little around his length. “That’s better, putting that pretty little mouth to good use.”

His cock hit the back of their throat over and over, and he watched as tears mixed with the saliva that trailed from the corners of their mouth. The sounds he was making were almost unholy, and despite the force he was using them with, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel their own pleasure building. They’d never been the most vanilla of couples, but this was certainly the roughest Mikey had been with them in a while. And they were loving it.

Both hands on the back of their head, he held them down so their nose brushed his pubes, ecstasy flooding through him as their warm, wet cheeks fluttered around him. “You’re my little whore, aren’t you? You belong to me. You can go out looking like a common slut for all the world to see, but only I get to see you like this. Like the needy little bitch you are.”

He let them go, listening to their choked gasps as they got used to being able to breathe properly again. It took very little effort to drag them onto the bed, spreading their legs so he could kneel between them and press himself against their entrance. They keened softly, putty in his hands as he pinned their wrists above their head.

“You keep your hands to yourself, and maybe I’ll give you what you clearly want. Huh? No touching. If you move those hands, I won’t let you cum for the next week.”

They nodded and he let go, smiling as they kept their hands in place. “So good, doing as you’re told.” Gripping their hips harshly he thrust into them, straight away moving at a punishing pace and relishing in the cracked moans his movements were pulling from their throat. He fucked them relentlessly, fingers digging into their soft skin as he dipped his head to sink his teeth into their chest.

They arched against him, still just about keeping their hands away as they struggled to speak. “I - shit, so close. Need you.”

He slowed for a second, resting his forehead against theirs as they whimpered. “Now, do you think you deserve to cum? Do you think you’ve been good enough?”

“Please. Fuck, I can’t… please.” They became even more incoherent as he slid a hand between them, pressing his fingers against them in a way that made them squirm. “Oh God, Mikey!”

The way they cried his name so reverently was more than enough to convince him, and he started thrusting again, somehow managing to go even deeper than before. It was only a matter of moments before they were tightening around him, muscles spasming as their orgasm left them boneless.

“Fuck, that’s it.”

Pulling out as they came down from their high, Mikey only needed to jerk himself a few times before spilling across their stomach with a groan, vaguely aware of them stroking his shoulders encouragingly as his vision greyed out. He collapsed next to them, breathing raggedly as they ran a hand through his sweaty hair. Neither of them said a word. After a couple of minutes they got up, already walking slightly stiffly as they headed for the en suite, cleaning up the mess he’d made. When they were done, they grabbed his water bottle and brought it over as a kind of peace offering, snuggling back under the covers. He took a drink and sighed, guilt sinking into his chest as he saw the beginnings of the bruises already littered across their delicate skin.

“I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to start a fight over.”

(y/n) shrugged. “I mean yeah, it was. But I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have said some of the things that I did. I gotta say though, I really like your method of conflict resolution.”

“It wasn’t too much, was it? I didn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“You want me to be honest? Fine. Michael James Way, I think that was some of the best sex we’ve ever had.”

He snorted, tucking an arm around their waist. “Glad to hear it. I mean it though. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I... I just can’t help but think that you’d be happier with someone who wasn’t me. Someone more sociable, more of a party animal. Someone who isn’t worse at socialising than a nerdy seventh grader.”

“Hey, no.” They propped themself up on an elbow so they were looking down at him. “No way. You’re the love of my life, and I need you to start believing that. Nobody compares to you. I don’t wanna imagine what my life would be like without you in it.”

He pulled them down again for a kiss. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

“And I fucking love you, Mikey fucking Way. No matter how much of an idiot you are.”

#mcr #my chemical romance #mikey way #mikey way x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2022 #who doesn't like a bit of angry sex #poor mikey is feelin a lil insecure though guys #poor baby just needs a cuddle methinks #fanfic #fic #oneshot #writing #writing challenge #drabble

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