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evabby · 21 days ago

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SHE WON'T GO AWAY.

OVERVIEW : you can't seem to break free from your relationship with abby.

WARNINGS : toxic relationship , arguing , angst , emotional distress , manipulation , crying , toxic!abby , mean!abby .

AUTHORS NOTE : just remember these types of relationships are NOT okay at all!!! i hope u guys enjoy angst aaa also two posts in one day because i am proud of thisone

two hours earlier, you had confronted abby at a party.

she had been leaning against the kitchen counter, her arm draped around another girl casually — as if this was something she was used to doing. she was laughing with her, and getting way too close to the girls face, with her cocky grin making your stomach twist.

“what the fuck is this abby?” you had asked, crossing your arms tightly. you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, your voice unsteady. this was embarrassing. your own girlfriend was getting too comfortable with another girl in front of god knows who— everyone! abby turned to you, unfazed, her grin still plastered across her face.

“what’s what?”

“this,” you gestured at abby and the girl. “you told me you’d stop flirting with other people. you said you’d try.” abby shrugged, taking a long sip from her drink before answering.

“relax, baby. we’re just talking.”

you felt the frustration bubble over. “i can’t do this.” you huff, turning around and walking away, ignoring abby’s calls after you.

your relationship with abby was so confusing. you never knew when abby was calm or upset, she was so unpredictable.

there were rare moments, when abby would pull you close to her, her arms warm and reassuring around you. and for a second, you would believe in the illusion of love. in those moments, abby would whisper promises and sweet nothings, and you would convince yourself that maybe, just maybe things have finally changed.

but the next day, the warmth was long gone, and abby would retreat. leaving you to feel invisible, as if the night before when she held you never even happened. the shift in her behaviour was always subtle at first — a cold comment here, or a dismissive glance there — but over time, you could eventually see the pattern, the way she would make you feel like you were always the one to blame.

she had some way of twisting everything just to make you doubt yourself, as if it was your fault for not understanding her ‘complicated nature.’

you would find yourself almost walking on eggshells, doing everything and anything just to please abby, hoping to feel even just a ounce of love like she showed you some days, it would make everything feel right to you.

but these moments were always followed by the emotional distance abby created, and you would start to feel like a second choice, like you were something easily discarded when abby no longer needed you. you promised yourself countless times that you’d walk away — that it wasn’t your problem, that you couldn’t deal with her highs and lows, her endless mind games, and everytime you’d come close,

every time.

abby would show up again, with her familiar smile and eyes filled with a mirage of love, and you just found yourself trapped yet again.

abby’s touch, her smile, the way she would act like nothing had happened melted your resolve like warm honey, and suddenly it seemed impossible to leave.

you knew this wasn’t what love was supposed to feel like, it was supposed to be safe and comforting, not this constant rollercoaster you had to go on with abby.

you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing yourself in the process.

the more you tried to assert your boundaries, the more abby pushed, testing how far you would bend before you broke.

each time, abby would pull you back in with a few sweet words. you’d forget all the hurt, all the empty promises she constantly made.

abby was the only person who truly understood you, right?

the knock on your apartment door later that night startled you out of your thoughts.

“open the door,” abby called, her voice calm but firm. “i know you’re in there.”

you hesitated for a moment before standing, you told yourself you’d only open the door so that abby wouldn’t make a scene, that you wouldn’t let her in. but as soon as you unlocked it, abby pushed her way inside.

“ab-” you start, spinning around to face abby before getting interrupted.

“look, i get that you’re upset,” abby started, leaning against the wall as she let out a sigh. “but do we really need to make this a whole thing? i didn’t do anything wrong.”

you stared at her. “you didn’t do anything wrong? abby, you were all over that girl. and this isn’t even the first time. you keep doing this and then acting like it’s fine because according to you, that’s just ‘who you are.’”

abby chuckled, crossing her arms as she continues to lean on your wall. “and that’s the problem, is it? you don’t love me for who i am. just wanna change me, huh?”

“wh- that’s not true.” you shot back, your voice cracking slightly. “i just want you to love me. is that too much to ask for?”

abby stepped closer, her expression softening just slightly. she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “you know i love you baby. you know i care.”

“if you cared then you’d stop doing things that hurt me.” you said quietly, your heart aching at her words, even though you knew better than to believe them.

abby’s smile faltered for the briefest moment before it returned, sharper this time. “i think you’re just scared, sweet girl. you’re scared because you know you need me just like i need you.”

you froze, your chest tightening. she always did this — twisting the blame and turning it all on you.

“you.. you’re—” you sigh, taking a deep breath before you say your words. “you don’t care about me, abby. you just don’t want to lose control.”

abby’s eyes narrowed, her smile fading completely, for the first time, she looked uncertain, but then she straightened, the cocky mask slipping back into place.

“maybe you’re right,” abby said, her voice low. “but you’re not going anywhere, are you? you won’t walk away from us.”

“stop. you humiliated me. you promised you’d stop flirting with other people, but you don’t even care how that makes me feel, do you?”

abby scoffed, “for fucks sake. it’s not like i cheated on you baby, grow up. you’re so desperate to play the victim, it’s pathetic.”

you flinched at the word. pathetic, that one always cut the deepest and abby knew it. she always knew exactly how to hurt you.

“pathetic?” you said, your voice breaking. “you’re the one who can’t go five minutes without making me feel like i’m not enough for you.”

abby stared at you, her gaze sharp and cruel. “maybe you’re not.”

the words hit you like a slap, and your chest tightened, making it hard for you to breathe as the tears you fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over. abby didn’t flinch, didn’t soften. she stood there, her arms still crossed, watching you crumble like it was amusing to her.

“you always do this.” abby said, her voice even. “you make everything about you, about how hurt you are. i don’t have time to babysit your insecurities.”

you covered your face, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

abby sighed heavily. “come on baby,” her voice was softer now, but no less condescending. “don’t cry. you know i don’t like it when you’re upset.”

you wanted to argue, to scream at her, but the words caught in your throat as abby stepped closer, pulling your arms away from your face as her hand cupped your jaw to tilt your face up so your eyes met hers.

“’m not perfect baby,” abby murmured, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “but you can’t tell me this doesn’t feel right. you can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

you hated how your body betrayed you, leaning into abby’s touch whilst your mind screamed at you to pull away.

“i hate you.” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips, as abby wiped away one of your tears, her touch light, almost too soft for someone who was so cruel.

abby smiled. “you don’t hate me,” she murmured, her voice low, almost soothing,

“you could never hate me.”

before you could respond, abby’s lips were on yours, taking advantage of your vulnerability. at first, you stiffened, the shock of the kiss overtaking you, you hated abby, didn’t you? do you? you should.

but her kiss — soft and urgent, possessive yet tender, sent a wave of heat flooding throughout your body, drowning out every other thought. the kiss was everything: a promise, a manipulation, a confession, all at once. abby knew how to make you forget,

how to make you feel like maybe you were wrong for trying to break free.

you wanted to pull away, to fight it, but your body betrayed you. you could feel the pull of abby’s warmth, the way her hands tangled in your hair, her grip tightening as if she couldn’t stand to get you go. for a moment, you closed your eyes, giving into the kiss, your hands resting weakly against abby’s chest, the emotions swirling inside of you — rage, hurt, longing — all of it tangled together, making you dizzy.

when you finally broke apart, your breath was ragged, your heart still racing.

“you’re cute when you’re mad y’know,” abby said, her voice dropping to a low, teasing tone, “you think you’ll find someone better than me? someone who gets you like i do baby? who puts up with all of this?” she gestured vaguely at you, her smile never faltering.

“you don’t put up with me,” you whispered, your voice still shaking. “you make it all worse.”

abby tilted her head, confused. “then why are you still here, baby, hm? if i’m so awful, why haven’t you left yet?”

you had no answer. your mind raced, trying to search for something, jesus, anything to say. but abby was right. she always was. no matter how many times you swore you were done, you always caved.

abby stepped closer again, her hands holding your waist tightly. “you know why,” she murmured, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “because you love me. and you know i love you. even when i piss you off. even when you’re yelling at me like you are now. you need me, angel. just like i need you.”

your knees buckled slightly as abby’s grip tightened. “you don’t need me,” you whispered, “you just don’t want me to leave.”

abby smiled, her lips ghosting over yours. “maybe. but are you really going to leave me? walk out of that door and never look back? you can’t do it. you know that.”

the worst part was, you knew she was right. you hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t let go. you couldn’t stop craving the moments of affection abby gave you, the way she could make you feel like the centre of the universe with just one look.

so when abby kissed you again, you didn’t pull away. you let yourself melt into the familiar warmth of her touch, let yourself believe, if only for a moment, that this time would be different. that abby really did love you in the way she needed.

abby’s hands gripped your face, the kiss deepening with a possessive intensity that made your heart race.

“that’s my girl,” abby whispered against your lips, “knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

masterlist.

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

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Playtime with Daddy (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x "Stepdaughter" Reader

Warning: Smut, Daddy! Kink, Roleplay

Note: Everyone is over 18!

It was a Sunday afternoon when you were alone at home with your stepfather Cillian and, as usual, you spent some time together, playing games.

Cillian had a magnetic charm about him that made you feel safe and protected, despite the fact that he had been married to your mother for only a few short months. His warm smile and twinkling eyes drew you closer and his gentle manner put you at ease. As you sat beside him during your game, the scent of his cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of wood and musk, filling you with a sense of warmth and comfort.

"So," said Cillian, glancing over at you fondly, "how have you been feeling lately? Any troubles I should know about?" His voice was soft, almost tender, as if he genuinely cared about your wellbeing.

You hesitated before answering, the corners of your mouth pulling downwards slightly. "Well," you began, your voice cracking just a bit, "I have been a little curious about things lately." You paused, looking up at Cillian, who gazed back at you with an unreadable expression. "Things like, you know..."

Cillian raised an eyebrow, his face impassive. "Like what?"

Cillian asked, his curiosity piqued. There was something about the way you hesitated to finish your sentence that intrigued him. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was that you wanted to know more about.

"Well," you started again, your voice trembling ever so slightly, "I guess I'm just...curious about the way I feel, down there... I have this funny sensation when I am spending time with you." The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could stop them. Your cheeks reddened as you looked away, hoping he wouldn't be too upset by your confession.

"It's nothing really," you whispered softly, "I mean, I don't think it's anything bad..."

Cillian chuckled softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey now," he murmured gently, "There's no need to feel embarrassed," he went on to say before suggesting that he would have a look.

"You want to have a look at my special place?" you managed to whisper, your heart pounding against your chest like a trapped bird. You could feel the blush creeping up your neck until it reached your ears, causing them to turn hot and prickly. Cillian's gaze held steady, locked onto yours, his lips curling into a small smile.

"Why not?" he replied, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "After all, we're family now, aren't we?" He leaned back slightly, giving you space to rise from your seat.

"I suppose so," you agreed meekly, feeling a strange mix of apprehension and excitement swirling inside you.

"Very well then sweetie, lie down on the bed for me so that I can have a look at your little hole to see if everything is okay," Cillian asked you as he reached down to remove your panties, exposing your wetness.

You hesitated but eventually complied, reluctantly lying down on the bed in the dimly lit room. You shivered, the chilly air permeating your skin.

"Good girl now spread your legs apart for me so I can see it properly," Cillian instructed, his voice hushed yet commanding.

Your heart raced, but you complied, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

He moved closer, running his fingers gently across your inner thighs, sending chills up your spine.

"Just relax, baby," he whispered reassuringly, his tone soothing your anxiety.

As he examined you closely, his eyes flickered with a strange glint.

"You know, honey, I need to ensure that everything is good down there," he said softly, reaching out to gently stroke your thigh. "To do that, I might need to take a look inside."

You swallowed hard but something about his gentle manner made you feel safe. "It's alright, baby," he assured you, noticing your apprehension. "I promise it won't hurt. In fact, I think you'll enjoy it," Cillian coaxed, his warm breath fanning against your inner thigh.

"Okay daddy," you finally mumbled as his fingers grazed your lips, tracing the outline before delicately parting them, exposing your soft pink hole.

"Relax, baby," Cillian murmured, his voice like a lullaby, soothing your frayed nerves. "I'm just going to have a look, hmm?" he then said, and you clenched your fists, trying to brace yourself for what was about to come.

His finger brushed against your entrance, causing a jolt of sensation to shoot through your body.

He parted your labia softly, revealing the delicate inner workings of your body. His scrutiny was meticulous, as if he were examining a priceless artifact.

"Everything looks good so far," he murmured. "Your opening is very small though, isn't it? It's quite beautiful, actually."

Your cheeks turned red, and you wanted to crawl under the covers from embarrassment. But his kind tone made you feel less self-conscious.

"You see, baby," he explained, "this little hole here is usually reserved for your partner someday, but today, daddy gets to explore it firsthand."

His words shocked you, but his soft touch felt comforting, almost loving. You bit your lip, unsure how to respond.

"Don't worry," he whispered, stroking your cheek. "I'll be gentle. I will just put one finger inside now, alright?"

Cillian's index finger slowly pushed past your barrier, breaching your sacred space. You gasped, unprepared for the intrusion. A mix of discomfort and excitement coursed through you. His finger wiggled deeper, stretching you open. You squirmed beneath him, biting your lip to suppress moans.

"Does it hurt much?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, not really," you lied, trying to convince yourself. "It feels weird, I guess."

His hand cupped your face, turning your chin upward toward him. "You don't have to pretend with me, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing away the tears that had pooled in your eyes. "Tell me how it feels."

"It's just so big," you whimpered, clutching onto his arm, "and it hurts a little."

Cillian nodded his head, looking deep into your eyes. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice low and full of affection. "It will get better once I start moving my finger in and out a bit. You will see."

He then winked at you, then carefully inserted another finger along with the first one.

The burn intensified, searing through your core, and you arched off the mattress, letting out a muffled cry.

"It's all right," he consoled you, kissing your forehead tenderly. "You're doing great. Just breathe deeply and focus on my touch."

You listened to his advice, inhaling a sharp breath and exhaling long and slow.

With encouragement from Cillian, you began to relax, allowing your muscles to loosen around his fingers. The discomfort eased, replaced by a new sensation that made you arch your back and groan softly.

"That's it, sweetheart," Cillian praised, his voice thickening. "Feel it for me. Let me hear those noises you make."

A flush swept over your face, but you let loose a soft moan, reveling in the odd pleasure. Cillian grinned wickedly, his fingers thrusting faster, deeper.

"There you go, baby," he crooned, his voice husky with lust. "Let daddy listen to those pretty sounds you're making."

You cried out, unable to hold back any longer. Your hands balled into fists, nails digging into the sheets, as wave after wave of bliss consumed you.

"Maybe daddy can put something else in to your little hole now that you are a little more stretched out," Cillian suggested, withdrawing his fingers and watching your reaction carefully.

You glanced up at him, your gaze filled with curiosity and trepidation.

"Like what?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths.

A devilish grin stretched across his face. "Well," he teased, leaning close to whisper in your ear, "maybe a toy or even…"

You held your breath, waiting for him to finish.

"Or even what, daddy?" you prodded, desperate to see where this would lead.

"Maybe daddy could put his penis into your hole," Cillian teased, his tone laced with mischief. He reached down and rubbed himself through his pants, hinting at what he meant. You gulped, your insides twisting nervously.

"But wouldn't that hurt?" you ventured, hoping to stall the inevitable.

"Only when it first goes in," Cillian responded, a sly twinkle in his eye. "And then you will get used to it and it will even feel quite nice," he said and you flushed scarlet, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"Are you sure it won't hurt too much?" you managed to ask, swallowing hard.

"I am sure," Cillian said. "Despite, you are a big girl now and big girls do this kind of thing all the time."

You felt your heart pounding fast, your mouth suddenly dry. The idea of having your stepfather's penis inside you terrified you, but at the same time, the thought aroused you.

"Okay daddy," you stammered, your voice trembling. "I... I think I'm ready," you forced out, your palms sweating.

Cillian patted your cheek, his smile growing wider.

"Alright, baby," he said, pulling his pants down slowly. "We are going to do this together."

You stared wide-eyed at his erect member, the sight both terrifying and mesmerizing.

"Are you sure, daddy?" you whispered, a lump forming in your throat.

"Oh, yes, baby," Cillian replied confidently, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've been dreaming about this moment ever since you moved in with us."

He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs.

His erection stood tall and hard, eager to breach your untouched depths. A bead of sweat trickled down your neck, and your breathing quickened. You knew what was coming, but you couldn't stop it.

"Take a deep breath, baby," Cillian encouraged, his eyes locked on yours. You took a steadying breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Now, I'm going to guide you through this," he assured you, placing a hand on your hip. "I'll be gentle, I promise."

You nodded, your grip tightening on the sheets underneath you. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you, baby," he breathed warmly against your skin. "I promise it'll be worth it."

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his manhood resting against your folds.

"Okay," you muttered, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

"Here we go," Cillian said firmly, guiding your hips upward slightly. "Daddy will put his penis in now, okay?" Cillian spoke softly, the intimacy of their situation heavy in the air. You couldn't find the words to speak, your mouth dry and your heart hammering madly in your chest. The silence hung thick between you, the tension mounting.

"It's going to feel different from earlier," Cillian said, pausing briefly. "Remember, I told you big girls do this all the time? So you're going to be a big girl too, aren't you?"

You nodded silently, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Your heart pounded erratically in your chest, the anticipation building heavily within you. You couldn't believe what was happening, but something deep down urged you to continue.

Cillian guided his tip to your entrance, his swollen shaft throbbing against your sensitive flesh. You tried to remember to breathe, but the anticipation made it difficult. With every centimeter that inched closer, the heat built between your legs.

"Just push back against me, baby," Cillian whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as his cockhead slipped inside you.

You strained to accommodate him, feeling his thickness stretch you painfully. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gripped the sheets tighter. The sensation was overwhelming; it was unlike anything you'd experienced before.

"Shh," Cillian murmured, his fingers stroking your hair. "Just breathe, baby. Relax."

You nodded, forcing yourself to remain still, despite the burning discomfort that radiated from your core.

"You're doing great," Cillian encouraged, his voice hoarse with anticipation. "Just breathe and let daddy in."

You nodded, your hands shaking as you attempted to grasp the sheets beneath you. "It feels so huge," you admitted, the truth spilling freely from your lips.

"I know, baby," Cillian said, his voice cracking slightly. "That's why you should relax and let daddy guide you through this."

He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips cool and comforting. "Just push back against me," he whispered, his breath fanning against your heated skin as he reached your barrier.

You winced, the sudden burn catching you off guard. He paused, his breath shallow, as if reading your reaction. "Sshh," he murmured, his fingers combing through your hair. "I know, baby," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

"The next bit will hurt, but it's necessary for daddy to fully put his penis into you," he said, his voice hushed and low. "I'm going to push now. Are you ready, baby?" Cillian asked, his voice strained with anticipation.

"Yes, daddy," you answered, your breath hitching unevenly as, with one swift thrust, he tore through your barrier.

You screamed out, your nails scratching his back.

"Shh, baby," Cillian soothed, his hand cradling your cheek. "It's over now. I am all the way inside you now," Cillian murmured, his breath tickling your ears as he started to move inside you.

"You're such a brave girl," he added, his voice thick with emotion. "Daddy loves you so much."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a strange sense of pride wash over you. Despite the intense pain, you realized that you had done something incredible. You had let your stepfather inside you. The realization sent a rush of warmth through your veins.

"I love you too, daddy," you managed to say, your voice cracking like fragile porcelain as Cillian thrusted deeper inside you.

His response came swiftly, a feverish grunt coupled with a desperate thrust.

"Fuck!" he hissed, his chest heaving with exertion. "You're so tight, baby."

You moaned softly, your body responding involuntarily to his passionate movements.

"So fucking tight," Cillian growled, his breaths becoming ragged. "Oh, god, I'm losing control," he groaned, the intensity of his words echoing the fervor of his thrusts.

You moaned, your nails clawing at the sheets beneath you. Each surge of sensation threatened to unravel every thread of restraint left within you.

"You make daddy feel so good," Cillian rasped, his voice barely audible in the dimly lit room.

The scent of sex lingered in the air, a potent reminder of the taboo act unfolding between you.

Your toes curled instinctively, your body reacting to the raw sensuality of the encounter.

"Do you know, baby," Cillian whispered into your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating, "how much I've fantasized about this moment?"

You shook your head, the pain dulling into a steady throb.

"I never imagined it would hurt this much," you whispered, your voice weak and trembling.

Cillian slowed his pace, his thrusts weakening with concern. "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

The dim light filtered through the window, casting shadows on the walls. You tried to sit up, but the effort was overwhelming.

"It's fine, daddy," you lied, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm just getting used to it."

You didn't want him to worry about you, even though the throbbing in your pelvis was unbearable.

"Just keep going," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cillian sighed, his grip tightening on your waist. "Okay, baby," he agreed, his voice strained with desire. "But if you need me to stop, tell me, alright?"

You nodded, your lips pressed tightly together. The last thing you wanted was for him to think you weren't enjoying yourself.

"Daddy is almost done," he promised, his words punctuated by heavy, labored breaths.

You lay there, panting and drenched in sweat, but there was no denying the pleasure that coursed through you with each thrust.

"Daddy wants to show you how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice thick with passion.

His words stirred feelings within you you'd never known existed.

"I'll make it good for you, baby," he promised, his kisses peppering your neck.

You moaned softly, the sensation of his erection filling you erasing the lingering sting of pain.

Cillian's thrusts turned from tentative to relentless, his rhythmic motions driving you wild. The dampness of your thighs and the smell of sweat and sex enveloped you, cocooning you in a haze of lust.

"God, baby," Cillian groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. "You feel so perfect," he told you and, suddenly, it hit you. A wave of pleasure surged through your body, and you clutched the sheets tightly, wanting to scream but fearing it would ruin the moment.

"It's okay, baby," Cillian murmured, his thrusts slowing down, allowing you to revel in the euphoria coursing through you. "Cry out, baby."

You did, your voice breaking through the silence, a high-pitched wail that echoed in the enclosed space. It was liberating, frightening, painful, and pleasurable – all at once.

The release of your pent-up emotions, accompanied by the physical demands of being fucked roughly by your stepfather, was an indescribable rush. Your eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy, overwhelmed by the tidal wave of orgasms crashing down upon you.

"Oh, fuck! Baby, you're squeezing me so tight," Cillian exclaimed, his grip tightening on your hips. Every thrust drove you further into a state of frenzied bliss. This was forbidden, wrong, but oh, so enticing.

"Daddy is going to put some of his cum into you now, okay?" Cillian murmured, his fingers skimming along your stomach as he neared his orgasm.

"What do you mean, daddy?" you asked, a wave of unease washing over you.

Cillian smirked, his eyes glistening with lust. "Nothing to worry about, baby," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Just a little something special for your hole. Like a magic potion," he groaned as his climax approached. He plunged his erection deeper within you, thrusting with a renewed urgency as he tumbled over the edge.

The force behind his release surprised you, as his semen surged into you, filling you completely.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, panting heavily, thrusting into you. "Soak it all up for daddy," he groaned.

You squirmed beneath him, feeling the wetness oozing from your sore pussy. His release had filled you to the brim, creating a strange sensation that contrasted sharply with the raw pleasure you had experienced moments ago.

As Cillian continued to thrust into you, you could feel him soften slowly, his erection subsiding.

"Baby," he gasped, his voice strained and raw with exhaustion. "I am spent," he groaned as the intense encounter had left you both drained.

"Me too," you told him. "And I am so glad I have married an actor," you smiled, looking at him intently. "This kind of role play is a real turn on for me and I bet you had a lot of fun playing your role as my stepfather, huh?"

Cillian chuckled softly, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "Yeah, I must admit, it wasn't half bad," he agreed before pulling you in for a kiss. "I hope you enjoyed it."

"Loved it," you whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip before pushing him away slightly. "But I have to confess something."

"What's that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"It was kind of awkward calling you 'daddy' during sex," you confessed, blushing slightly.

"Yeah," Cillian agreed, running a hand through his messy brown hair. "It does sound a bit strange, doesn't it?"

"Well, it was still hot," you admitted, giggling nervously.

"Of course it was," Cillian laughed, giving you a playful nudge. "I'm irresistibly good at my job, right?"

"I suppose," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. "I'll give you that much credit."

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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14dayswithyou · 7 months ago

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Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

#💌 — answered.#💖 — 14 days with queue.#to be tagged later #icant-pickthenameiwant

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bookuce · 7 months ago

Text

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book also uses the actual names of the wrestlers. Gionna is Liv Morgan, Austin, is Xavier Woods, Josh is Jey Uso, Jon is Jimmy Uso, Trinity is Naomi, Alina is just Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO REPOST OR TRANSLATE MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE.*

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 1,827

PART TWO

PART THREE

“Say, I have a question for you,” Austin says, giving Alina a bright smile. She smiles back at him, a sign of friendliness.

“What’s up?” She asks.

“How does one manage to be as beautiful as you? I mean, you are stunning, whew!” He exclaims. Alina giggles softly at the compliment. She places her arm on the back of the couch, propping herself up on it.

“That’s really sweet to say, Austin, thank you.” She grins.

“No, thank you for blessing me with your presence. I can end the night now knowing I got to talk to you.” She rolls her eyes at his words. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to do and why he suddenly took interest in her, but who was she to be rude? They’ve talked a few times in passing, but it was never for long. “We should get you on UpUpDownDown.” He says. She immediately begins to shake her head.

“I don’t really play video games. I’ve never been good at them.” She answers honestly. To let her come on the show would be a waste of time. She also wasn’t comfortable embarrassing herself like that in front of several people. She has watched a few episodes and knew it was a fun show, but her participating? Not happening.

“I doubt you’re as bad as you say you are.” He assures her.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” She promises. “I am terrible at games.”

Jon still had an amused grin on his face while he watched the two talk. This man is stupid, he thought. Either Austin was crazy, or he didn’t care. Shit, probably both. “That man is going to kill his ass,” Jon mutters to Trinity.

“That’s on him.” She says, not looking up from her phone. “He warned him.” Jon looks up, catching the moment Josh pauses in his tracks at seeing Austin and Alina talking.

The eldest twin taps his wife’s thigh. “Look, look, look…” He points in Josh’s direction. This was going to be good.

Josh was happily on his way with Alina’s drink until he saw Austin had done the opposite of what he told him. They were sitting close, too close for his liking, and they seemed deep in conversation. Alina would smile at him, and Austin would smile back.

Nothing he says could be worth smiling over like that, he thought. Josh glances down at the drinks in his hand. Just go over there and give her her drink. He’ll move. Don’t cause a scene. It’s nothing, he tells himself.

If jealousy could kill, Josh would be dead ten times over. He craved the attention that everyone else got from Alina. The way she smiles at them, the way she talks to them. He wanted her to do the same to him. Instead, she’s awkward and quiet at times. That was frustrating to him. She never really hints at what goes on in her head. It made him question whether or not he should even feel how he felt. Then he’d see her trying with guys and failing, and it would make him feel some way. He just wanted to make her happy.

Josh sniffles, quickly regaining composure. He resumes his stride over to the group. When he approaches, he holds Alina’s drink out between the chatting pair. He was purposely blocking Austin’s view of her face. Alina turns to look up at him. “Ay, I got your drink.” He says, his eyes fixated on the guy next to her. Alina slowly takes the drink from him.

“Thank you, Josh…” She says.

“No problem.” He says quickly, now slowly swaying from left to right, a sign of impatience.

Alina continued to stare at him, but he would never meet her gaze. No, he was watching Austin, who was smirking at him. “You gonna sit down, Uce?” Jon asks, leaning forward. The elder twin was ready to jump up to stop his brother from doing anything stupid.

“Nah, I’m good.” He says, not breaking his glare. “You good, Uce?” He asks Austin. That was him telling Austin to move. Here he goes, Alina thought. She finally looks away from him, her lips touching the brim of her cup. She slowly tilts the cup back, drinking the cup full with no breaks. It’s going to be a long night. Austin scoffs slightly, his smile still intact.

“You got it.” He says finally, putting his hands up in defeat. He moves back into his previous spot. Josh moves to sit down in his seat.

“Was that necessary?” Alina asks.

He reaches down, grabbing her legs and pulling them between his own. “Yep.” Alina probably shouldn’t have giggled, but the two mixed drinks she shotgunned and tequila shots were beginning to creep up on her. He shouldn’t grab her like that.

“And who are you supposed to be?” She asks. Josh doesn’t answer her. Instead, he takes a swig of the beer in his hand. She places two fingers on his left cheek, forcing him to look at her. She lifts her eyebrows, waiting for a response. One never came. “That’s what I thought.” She drops her hand from his face. They would exchange stares until Josh would glance down at her lips. Lina would suck in a deep breath before inevitably looking away. He shouldn’t look at her like that. “Well, I want another drink.” She mutters to herself. “Who wants drinks?” She asks.

“I do,” Austin chimes in.

Alina moves to stand but is pulled back down to Josh. She plops into his lap, a gasp leaving her lips as she does so. He really shouldn’t grab her like that. “Nah, get someone else to do it.” He says. Alina’s brows furrow at him before she reaches down to remove his hand from her thigh.

“Please, go to hell.” She says, prying his hand off of her.

“Or I can go with you to the bar. How about that?” When she stands, so does he. She doesn’t argue with him, but she does roll her eyes. Alina turned her attention to the group again, only to find them staring at the pair. They weren’t sure what they were seeing. Was it fighting, flirting, or some sick combination of both? “Drinks?” She asks, gesturing to everyone.

“Get me another beer, Uce,” Jon says.

“Vodka Cran for me.” Orders Trinity.

“Two more shots of tequila.” Gionna requests.

“I’ll have a beer too.” Austin adds.

Alina steps around the couch, marching over to the bar. Josh follows behind her, leaving the group once more. Everyone exchanged glances at each other after the exchange. “They get like this every time they drink together,” Jon says, shaking his head. “How long before they fight and get us kicked out?” He asks, looking at Trinity.

“Depends. How many fruity drinks have Alina had?” She asks. It was always the fruity drinks that got poor Alina.

“Just one so far.” Gionna answers.

“It’s that bad?” Austin asks.

“Yes, fool!” Jon exclaims. “That’s why I said leave her alone! Them folks are crazy!” Alina and Josh, with alcohol in their systems, are a match made in Hell. Josh had been drinking since before Alina got to the club. The beer in his hand was his seventh. He had about three more in him before he was at the point of no return. Alina was on her third mixed drink, two of which were fruity. The tequila shots would bring her up to five drinks in total. She swears she has a high tolerance for alcohol, much like Josh does, but doesn’t. Neither of them do.

Separately, they were fine, but together? It’s a whole other story.

Josh follows behind Alina, his pace slower than hers. To him, it seemed she was trying to put space between them. She would tell him he was correct if he had to assume out loud. She shouldn't be turned on by the way he was acting tonight, but here she was, practically foaming at the mouth. Alina makes it to the bar, eyes fixated on the alcohol on the wall before her. The bartender would immediately come to her, ready to take her order. “One tequila sunrise, three beers, and a Vodka Cran.” Alina orders. She turns to Josh, who’s watching her. “I’m forgetting something.”

“Gigi’s shots.” He answers.

“Oh, right! And two tequila shots!” She says, turning to the bartender. The bartender walks away, leaving the couple alone. Josh placed his beer on the bar top and leaned in towards Alina.

“You look good.” He tells her.

She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “Okay.”

“Here you go.” He huffs, shaking his head at her.

“What do you want me to say? Thank you?”

“Uh, yes? That’s the normal thing to say to compliments, Alina.”

She wasn’t much of a compliments person. It makes her feel like someone wants something from her when she hears them. The people pleaser in her would forever deliver even when she didn’t want to. “Thank you, Joshua.” She says finally.

“You’re trying to be funny.”

“I said thank you!” She says, laughing. Josh places his hand on the barstool behind Alina, blocking her in. After a bit of silence, she turns to him. “You look good too.” She says, leaning into him. The bartender put out her tequila sunrise, and she immediately grabbed it.

Josh glances down at his appearance. “Do I?” She nods. “I put this on for you.” He jokes. Alina would take a sip of her drink, humming softly at it. “Is it good?” Josh asks, leaning into her again.

“Yeah, taste it.” She brings her glass to his lips, all while still holding his gaze. Her stare always made him weak in the knees. All she had to do was look at him, and Josh was under her command. He’d part his lips slightly, allowing the rim of the glass to touch his lips. She’d tilt it back, letting the orange liquid touch his tongue. The taste of Orange Juice came and went quickly. All that was left behind was the strong taste of tequila. Josh pulls his head back. “Yeah?” She asks, lowering her drink.

“Nah,” He says quickly, shaking his head. “That drink is strong as hell.” They both start to laugh. God, they were drunk. Alina leans into his arms, burying her face in his chest. His hand would move from the chair and touch her back. That touch was the catalyst for what was to come. His fingertips would trace her spine, sending shivers along her body. She’d arch towards him, lifting her head to look at him. They were very close, their noses almost touching.

“You shouldn’t touch me like that.” She whispers.

“My bad.” He whispers back. His hand would curl against the small of her back, now closing and opening in a scratching manner. She shakily breathes, her head tilting down to break his gaze. “Lina.” He calls to her.

Ah, fuck it, Alina thought as she pulled his face to hers in a bruising kiss.

NEXT PART

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: So y'all blew the first and second parts of this up...that's cool lol.

Thank you to everyone who is reading this so far! I really do appreciate all the kindness and support I am receiving! It means a lot to me!

Stay tuned for part four!

🏷️list: @paigereeder @wrestlingprincess80 @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @trashbin-nie @meannaim @siriuslycee

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #main event jey uso

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milaisreading · 2 years ago

Text

Caught in the middle

Pairing:

Nagi Seishiro x Reader x Reo Mikage

Warnings ⚠️: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open. This is my first time writing anything poly related.

A.N: due to popular demand (5 people asked) I am in the process of making the Kaiser x Reader x Ness version of this.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to:Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Are you alright, (Y/n)? You have been quite out of it?" Anri asked as they both left Ego's office to do their daily tasks. The girl has been acting weird for a few days, Anri noted. (Y/n) would forget where she had put some documents, accidentally tripped multiple times a day or would zone out. What was weird to the woman was her reluctance to help the team out, which was the basic requirement for her job. Anri was worried and brought it up with Ego, but the man dismissed, unsure what it was either. But today she will find out what it was about.

(Y/n)'s whole demeanor changed and she turned into a nervous wreck as she noticed the way Anri was looking at her.

"W-what do you mean? Everything is fine! Nothing to worry about here." The girl laughed nervously and Anri shook her head, not believing a word (Y/n) was saying.

"You have been acting weird the whole week, tell me what the issue is."

"Nothing is the issue-"

"If you don't tell me, Blue Lock might need a new manager soon." Anri said. She didn't really mean those words, but it was the only way she could get a word out of (Y/n). The bait seemed to work on the girl, as she looked around the hallway for a moment and sighed, admitting her defeat.

"It's just... I have some issues."

"Is the team the issue?"

"No, no it's me. I... I did something I shouldn't have done." (Y/n) quickly answered back, worrying the woman.

"And what did you do?"

"I... promise you won't tell anyone?" (Y/n) asked in hesitation.

"Of course I won't, now what is it?" Anri asked as (Y/n) took a deep breath and spoke up.

"I think... I might have fallen in love... with someone from the team." (Y/n) said as Anri took a moment to process her words.

"Ahh! So that's why you were so hesitant to see them alone. This is adorable, (Y/n)! Who is it?" The woman asked in delight as the girl moved a little closer.

"That's the issue, it's not really one person... more like two..." (Y/n) admitted, embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Two? Who?" The woman asked, intrigued by now more than ever. (Y/n) felt her face heat up more and she motioned for Anri to move closer. Anri felt her eyes widen as she heard the names and started giggling.

"Them?! Oh my God, I need to see how this will end! When do you plan on confessing?"

"Never!" (Y/n) answered back, shocked that Anri would even ask her.

"Never? And what do you plan to do with your feelings?"

"Hide them. Bury them inside me and hope they fade away. Confessing would make it just awkward, especially when those two are so close."

"I don't think that's a smart idea, (Y/n)-"

"It's not! But it's better for everyone. Besides, their main goal is going to the World Cup and not their manager confessing to them. Let's just leave it at that."

Anri sighed as (Y/n)'s justification, but decided to keep quiet.

'It's not like it won't come out eventually... Knowing how obvious she is.'

While Anri and (Y/n) were talking, neither noticed Reo and Nagi hiding close by. They heard the whole conversation and were left baffled at (Y/n)'s confession.

'Our... My manager in love with two people from the team?! Who could that even be? We don't have many eye-catching guys, except for me that is.' Reo thought, trying to think of someone.

'Hm? I wonder if it's me, we are pretty close and she let's me sleep on her and play games during rests. It has to be me.' Nagi thought, blushing a little bit at the thought.

"She likes me?" The two said at the same time, then narrowed their eyes and glared at each other.

"What are you talking about, Reo? (Y/n) obviously loves me. Didn't you see the way she always wakes me up and makes sure I don't miss my meals." Nagi argued as Reo rolled his eyes.

"That's called taking care of a child, Nagi. What (Y/n) needs is a man who knows how to treat her well and take care of her. Which is me."

"Man? We are both the same age, calm down. I can relate to (Y/n) more and take her to fun places."

"And I can buy her anything she needs or wants and can make her laugh. Besides, she always compliments how well I adjust my moves against an opponent. Also, she really likes listening about all the places I have been to."

"And she loves listening to me talking about my video games and we have common shows we like. Besides, my scores always leave her speechless.... that wide-eyed expression always looks cute on her." Nagi sighed, his cheeks turning red. Reo nodded his head and smiled, remembering some things he liked about her too.

"I like it when she turns a little shy once the attention of the room is on her. And did you see her expression when she saw her favorite meal was for dinner?"

"Aha~ it was so cute."

The duo nodded their heads, both having a dreamy expression in their faces as they thought over (Y/n)'s confession.

"Do you think that she maybe likes someone completely else? She never said the names, at least we didn't hear them." Nagi suggested, making Reo gulp and shudder.

"Horrible, horrible thought. Well... I will take it upon myself and confess to her. Then we will see who she likes." Reo said, getting up from the ground.

"Bad idea, let me do the first step." Nagi said, trying to push his friend our of the way, but Reo glared at the taller and shook his head.

"No way are you doing it first."

"Get out of the way, Reo."

"Fuck off, no!"

The two argued for a while, but stopped once they heard Ego call them to join the training session.

The whole day for (Y/n) was quite a hassle. Not only did Ego give her a lot more work than usually, but the team was acting off too. Well, not the whole team, just Reo and Nagi. They were at each other's throats the whole time. They would either make snarky comments towards each other, trying to beat the other's score on the field or just glare when someone else from the team would talk to her. It was really hard to work with them like this not only for (Y/n), but also for the rest of the team. Ego had scolded them a few times, but it didn't work.

'What a day... why are they acting so off? This is worse than that time Nagi picked Isagi to play with.' (Y/n) shuddered at the memory, remembering what Chigiri had told her about the bathroom incident. Shaking her head, the girl thought back on the two and her heart picked up a few beats.

'Even with all these arguments, I can't be mad at them. They are both so charming and cute. Reo with that cute smile of his and how he is always so eager to explain and talk about various topics with me. And Nagi, he is so calm and easy to talk to, tho he can be easily annoyed at times. But still, he is such a great player and friend, not to mention he is handsome...' (Y/n) stopped in her tracks and shook her head in embarrassment.

'Calm down, (Y/n)! You need to stop thinking like that before it gets too awkward! They are great friends, that should be enough for you-'

"(Y/n)! There you are, I was looking for you everywhere!" The girl shrieked as Reo's voice was heard and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to himself.

"R-Reo?! How can I help you?!" The girl panicked at the closeness, but made no attempts to move away or something. The boy grinned at her and spoke up, neither noticing Nagi approaching them.

'S-so...close.' (Y/n) thought.

"I wanted to tell you something! It's urgent!"

"You do? What is it?" The girl gulped as Nagi cleared his throat, standing on the other side of her.

"We have to tell you something." Nagi corrected.

"Yeah, we." Reo grumbled.

"Is it about how off you two have been acting the whole day? Did you two fight?" The two looked at each other awkwardly and Reo let (Y/n) go.

"Well yeah, it involves you too." Nagi admitted.

"Me? What did I do?" (Y/n) asked, her nervousness fading into confusion as the two looked at each other and back at her.

"We kinda heard what you said to Teieri-san this morning." Reo answered. (Y/n) kept quiet for a moment, her eyes widened slowly and she started getting lightheaded.

"Y-you two did?"

'They couldn't have heard their names, right? I whispered it to Teieri-san.' (Y/n) gulped and looked back at the duo.

"So, who are they? Who are the guys you like? Trust me, I can fight-" Nagi groaned as Reo elbowed him to his stomach, then sent the flustered girl a nervous smile.

"What we Nagi wants to say is... we both... well..." Reo grew nervous and started avoiding eye contact with (Y/n) as Nagi recovered from the hit.

"We both like you. We wanted to tell you this before you confess your feelings to whoever the assholes are."

"That's enough, Nagi." Reo warned the albino as (Y/n) looked at the duo in shock.

'They both... like me? What now?! This can't be happening... I was planning on never confessing and living alone with a cat or two.' The girl shock her head as the duo kept on arguing.

"I..." (Y/n) started and caught their attention. Both boys looked nervously back at the girl, expecting her to reject them or something.

"I...well the guys u was talking about were... actually you two."

Nagi and Reo's eyes widened, cheeks turning red as they kept on staring at the girl in shock. Embarrassed, (Y/n) covered her face unsure what to do or say.

"So... are we now a-" Nagi cut himself off, embarrassed to say anything.

"I am so sorry, this is all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut." (Y/n) said. Reo shook his head and walked up to her, removing her hands to look the girl in the eyes.

"It's not your fault, it's really nobodies, but we should have approached you differently with this... but now that it's out, Nagi and I thought of something." Reo said, catching (Y/n)'s attention.

"And what would that be?"

"How about... we 3 try dating?" Nagi now spoke up.

"You mean us 3...at the same time?" (Y/n) asked as the three nodded nervously. The girl thought over the idea, it sounded unusual. Not that she didn't hear of those relationships, but she never imagined herself in that spot. But, would it hurt?

"That sounds nice." (Y/n) admitted, smiling a little. Reo was the first one to speak up, tightening his grip on her hands.

"Alright then. Don't worry (Y/n), I will be the best boyfriend you can find-"

"You mean we will be." Nagi corrected as he walked over to the duo and picked (Y/n) up.

"Nagi!" Reo glared at him as the girl started fidgeting nervously.

"Come on, I want to sleep." The boy said, running off with Reo yelling after him.

"Hey! Come back here!"

"Hmm... no!" Nagi yelled back as the girl let out a giggle, holding tightly onto the boy.

#bllk #blue lock anime #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock manga #manager reader #reo mikage #reo mikage x reader #nagi seishiro #blue lock nagi #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock reo #reo x reader x nagi

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moodymelanist · 1 year ago

Note

Hair pulling / rough sex for nessian!

send help I’m addicted to writing mean and possessive Cassian and it’s all @dustjacketmusings and @c-e-d-dreamer’s faults

When Nesta finally got home from her work gala, Cassian was up waiting for her. She hadn’t been able to get a plus one for tonight, so when he’d gotten home from the gym, their apartment had been far too quiet for his liking.

“Hey baby,” she greeted him with a soft smile as she walked into their bedroom.

“Hey,” he replied, unable to take his eyes off her. He’d been relaxing on top of the covers, the ends of his hair still a little damp from his post-gym shower, but the sight of her had him sitting all the way up. “Woah.”

Nesta looked absolutely stunning in her dark blue dress and matching heels. She’d smoothed her hair back into a neat chignon, and the combination of her dress’ sweetheart neckline and her hair being pulled up was really doing it for him. The dress made her eyes look even bluer than usual, and he was torn between wanting to peel it off her or watching her walk around in it for a little longer.

Cassian hadn’t gotten a chance to see her in person before she’d left for her gala, and he knew right away that if he’d caught a glimpse of her beforehand, there was no way he would’ve let her out the house looking like that.

Now that Nesta was finally home, though… Cassian couldn’t wait to ruin her.

“How was your night?” Nesta asked, completely unaware of the direction Cassian’s thoughts had taken. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief before moving onto her earrings, turning to look at him with one brow raised when he didn’t answer her right away. “Cassian?”

“It was fine,” Cassian eventually answered with a lightness he didn’t quite feel. He was far too busy thinking about all the ways he was going to make her beg for his cock. “How was yours?”

“It was fine,” she replied slowly. She placed her earrings up in her jewelry organizer, caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror hanging above the dresser, and frowned a little. “Are you okay?”

“Am I supposed to be okay with knowing you got all dressed up for other people to look at you?” he asked. He made a point of trailing his eyes over her slowly, from the top of her golden-brown head to the bottom of her tights-clad feet.

Nesta visibly swallowed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she realized what game they were playing. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” Cassian asked, getting off the bed so he could come stand behind her. “Which part of that was confusing for you, sweetheart?”

“I don’t care about other people looking at me,” she answered. She inhaled sharply as he pressed himself against her, letting her feel the way his cock was already starting to harden. “I just care about you.”

“So other people were looking at you,” he replied, focusing on the first half of what she’d said even though the second half made him want to smile. This game of theirs wasn’t much for smiling, though, so he shoved it down. “Was it fun?”

“No,” she denied immediately.

“No?” he repeated. He was picking up steam now, and it probably wouldn’t be much longer until he got to take her apart. “It wasn’t fun having every man in the room panting over you?”

“Nobody was panting,” she insisted. “I mean, a few guys tried to flirt with me, but I didn’t—”

“What,” Cassian said flatly. He played up his possessive streak when they did this, but the thought of some guy trying to talk to Nesta when he wasn’t around made his blood boil. “What did you just say?”

Nesta’s breathing picked up. “I didn’t — I told them all to fuck off. I promise.”

“You didn’t tell everyone you were taken?” he asked. “That you already belonged to somebody?”

“It was a work event,” she countered.

“Yeah,” he told her. “You probably couldn’t tell them that you’re mine.”

“No,” she breathed.

Cassian pressed in even closer, really grinding his hips into the curve of her ass now. “I guess it’d be unprofessional to say that I own you, right?”

“A little,” Nesta said, her voice hesitant as she tried to work out where he was leading her.

“But it wouldn’t be wrong to say,” he said back. His right hand let go of the dresser in favor of creeping up to wrap around her throat. “Would it?”

“No.” Her heart was beating fast where his thumb was pressed against her pulse. “I’m yours.”

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours,” she repeated back to him, the sound like music to his ears. “Only yours.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” he told her serenely. “But a little reminder never hurt anyone, did it?”

Cassian gave Nesta’s throat one last squeeze before he took a step back from her warm body. He yanked up the hem of her dress, exposing the thin material of her tights and the dark color of her underwear underneath them, and made quick work of removing every barrier between his mouth and her cunt. From there, it was easy to press a hand to her shoulders and bend her over the dresser. She was so gorgeous bent over like that that he almost said fuck it and stuffed her full of his cock, but she was even more beautiful when he’d made her come first, so he decided to stick with his original plan.

“Oh, fuck,” Nesta moaned as Cassian spread her legs apart, sank to the floor, and buried his face between her legs. “Oh my God.”

Cassian groaned right back, the taste of her nearly overwhelming him. He’d been thinking about this from the moment he’d gotten home, and if it were up to him, he’d let her sit on his face and use him to come any time she wanted.

It wasn’t always up to him, but right now, it absolutely was.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he told her, pulling his mouth away so he could slide a finger inside her instead. “And all mine.”

Nesta rocked her hips back, silently demanding more, and Cassian was more than happy to give her what she wanted. He added another finger and had to bite down on the inside of his cheek as he watched her take it, his cock so hard now it was almost painful. She was always beautiful, but watching her take any part of him — his fingers, his tongue, his cock — would always make him go a little crazier than anything else.

“God, Cassian,” Nesta moaned as she writhed above him. “Love you, love your fingers, feel so good—”

Cassian knew Nesta’s body almost as well as he knew his own, and he’d gotten her off this way so many times that he knew what all those delicious, choked-off whimpers meant. He didn’t dare change what he was doing, not when she was this close to the edge, and continued to suck at her

Nesta cried out loudly as she came, her body tensing as her orgasm swept over her. Cassian couldn’t see her face in the mirror from where he was kneeling, but hearing her moan and whimper through it was almost as good. His tongue didn’t stop until she reached around and swatted at his head, and he gave her clit one last flick of his tongue before he pulled away.

“What’s your color?” Cassian asked once he’d stood up. Nesta was still bent over and her head was tucked into her arms, so he leaned closer to her ear to make sure she could hear him. “Sweetheart?”

“I’m so fucking green right now,” came Nesta’s muffled reply.

“There’s my good girl,” he replied, the praise rolling easily off his tongue. “You ready to keep being good?”

“Yes,” she answered. She finally raised her head up and he was pleased to see her mascara was a little smudged around the edges. “I’ll always be your good girl.”

“That’s right,” he agreed, sneaking a kiss to the side of her temple before standing back up. She tried to follow him up, but he pressed a hand to her back to keep her bent over. “Did I tell you to move?”

“No,” she breathed. He knew how much she loved when he manhandled her, and he wasn’t about to let her mess up the fun. “I’m sorry.”

“I move you when you need to move,” he told her, moving his hand off her back so he could untie the loose pants he’d been wearing. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so his cock bobbed freely in the air once his pants were off. “You understand?”

Nesta nodded furiously, the motion dislodging some of the pins in her hair. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.”

Cassian had been ready to fuck Nesta’s brains out, but he paused when he realized her hair must have been killing her. He reached out and pulled pins out at random until her hair fell around her shoulders, her sigh of relief proving his guess right.

“Much better,” he said, giving her scalp a quick scratch before he dropped the pins into a random container on their dresser. They could sort that out later; he had other, much more important plans right now.

Nesta sucked in a breath to speak, presumably to thank him for letting her hair down, but Cassian stole the words right out of her mouth. Whatever she was going to say was swallowed by a shocked little gasp when he rubbed his cock against her cunt and slowly thrusted inside her.

“Oh, fuck,” Cassian groaned as his cock was enveloped in Nesta’s tight heat. They’d had a lot of sex over the years, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she fit perfectly around his cock. “So perfect.”

“Been thinking about this all night,” Nesta moaned from below him. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” he asked, using his free hand to grip her hip as he began a steady rhythm. She was still mostly dressed, so he had to slide under the fabric of her hiked-up dress to get a hand on her bare skin. “Were you thinking about me when those motherfuckers were trying to flirt with you?”

“I only think about you,” she answered breathily. “Nobody else can — oh, fuck, baby — fuck me like you.”

“Nobody else,” he agreed. He shifted the hand on her back higher so that he was holding the back of her neck, and the force of his thrusts made her shift a little onto her toes. “I’m the only one who can give this needy little pussy what it needs.”

“Because it’s yours,” she replied, moaning as she tried to arch her back for an even deeper angle. “I’m yours, everything is yours—”

Nesta knew every single button of his to push, and Cassian loved her for it. It made him want to see her face that much more, so he stopped pushing down on her back and moved his hand upwards until her hair was in reach.

“Look at me,” Cassian demanded, wrapping hand around the bronze curtain of her hair and pulling.

Nesta gasped as her head was suddenly yanked up, her eyes wide as she met his gaze in the mirror. “Cassian!”

“Every noise out of your pretty little mouth,” he growled, fucking her hard and fast now, “is mine. You understand?”

“Yes, yes, fuck,” she agreed, panting. She looked absolutely debauched and he loved it. “I’m yours, I told you, nobody else—”

Cassian’s orgasm hit him so strongly and so suddenly it was a miracle his knees didn’t buckle. He pulled Nesta as close as humanly possible and thrusted hard, grinding his cock as deeply into her as he could while pleasure washed over him.

“Love you so much, sweetheart,” Cassian panted into her ear the second he could speak again. He gently untangled his hand from her hair and pressed a series of kisses to the side of her face, already switching into take care of Nesta mode. “You okay?”

“Mhmm,” Nesta eventually responded, her eyes fluttering shut. “So good. Love you too.”

He chuckled softly to himself before gently pulling out. “Come on, Nes. Let’s get you into the shower.”

“How was your gala, anyway?” Cassian asked after they’d showered, put on fresh pajamas, and gotten into bed. He looked at her with a cheeky grin before adding, “I promise I’m actually listening this time.”

Nesta stared at him for a few moments before fondly rolling her eyes. “It was fine. Thanks for asking.”

#acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar kinktober #kinktober #moodymelanistwrites #anon asks #Nessian prompts

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unhinged-summer-fun · 25 days ago

Text

the foolish heart's guide to not repeating history - chapter 3

Pairing: Dream of the Endless "Morpheus" x F!Reader

A/N: happy turkeys everyone, sorry I haven’t updated common grounds I am also eager for me to write it

series masterlist

chapter 3: elsewhere, elsewhen

Around 1000 B.C.E.

“Well, aren’t you a treat?”

The dripping red interior of the Heart of Desire is as slippery as it looks. You have to truly search for your footing before you find it, and even then, your center of gravity seems infested with butterflies. “It’s nice to meet you, Desire.”

Their golden eyes turn icy. Desire is caught off guard by your familiarity and assertion that this meeting can be summed up as nice. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen one of you.” Curiosity can be an element of Desire—wanting to know more and see more. After all, they’re one of the more inquisitive siblings of the Endless, always sticking their nose in their siblings’ businesses.

“No, you haven’t.”

Their bright red lips turn down into a sneer when you don’t elaborate. They sweep closer to you in a sensual burst of summer peaches. Like the white eyes of Destiny and the green eyes of Destruction, the golden eyes of Desire seem to see you in a way that strips you bare and still finds you concealed and mysterious. Wanting, in every sense of the word.

“You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” They like to play games. More than that, they like to win. You have become a curious opponent to them, one they have not yet puzzled out a victory against. Even when besting an enemy becomes standard, Desire never offered something like mercy to them.

They certainly never offered it to Dream.

It’s that thought that chills your once-cordial voice.

“You don’t know me. I am not from here. I am from somewhere much further from here than even you can fathom. I am of something much older than you can imagine. And I wish to talk with you.”

A tittering laugh bubbles from their throat, beautiful and melodic but shaken. “Then let’s talk.”

“I will keep this short. You are to stop this game you have started against Dream. You do not possess the hindsight of Destiny nor the foresight of Delirium, but I do. You may not like being told what to do, but I promise you that your days shall be numbered upon one hand should you continue this path, Desire. Tell me you understand this.” Your voice shakes the floor beneath you, like the pounding heart of a hunted deer.

“I understand,” they say instantly.

“You think you are protected by the promises made by the Fates, so long as you adhere to the rules. You are mistaken. In continuing this path, all blood spilled will fall upon your hands, and while my sisters can be kindly, I will not be; do not cross me.” You draw nearer to them through your promises, and your breath blows with the chill of the Wind Between Worlds. “I know your nature. You believe there is little you have to lose in doing this. You are mistaken. The scorpion goes down alongside the creature they kill. Do not make me an enemy, Desire of the Endless.”

Their beautiful face becomes drawn with badly concealed fear. It was very, very rare that a being could overpower an Endless, and even rarer did those beings give the equivalent of a shovel talk. Over several minutes of breathless, stunned silence, respect and curiosity eventually fade into their eyes.

“Thank you for the advice. I will take it.” They are not happy to admit it. Neither are you. But the word of an Endless is impossible to recant.

“Thank you.” You smile. It’s fanged. “For your promise, I will not leave this gift unrepayed. You may ask me one question, and I will give you one answer.”

The tension dissipates at the recognizable meter of the Fates—a boon has been offered. Much like the Endless, the word of the Fates, when recanted, would destroy all it touched. Desire knows they have momentarily taken the upper hand.

Desire considers you like a predator watching its prey, wolf-golden eyes warming into a primal kind of mischief—the kind that gleams the same as any trickster-god you’d ever met. Though logic dictates that their question would not harm you, you feel the shift in the air that speaks of sour intentions.

You’re mistaken. The question does hurt.

“Do you really think he’ll love you?”

The Hum tells you every answer to their question instantly, and the overwhelming result is—

“No.”

Desire looks shocked—like they weren’t expecting you to answer, let alone give that answer. But they asked what you think, not what you believed or hoped. You don’t owe them either. You nod your head in conclusion to the conversation and walk to their Gallery.

“But why are you—?” Their words cut off when they remember the terms set to ask questions of the Fates. Not wishing to incur another debt to you, they quickly change tactics. “Pursuing a cold heart like Dream’s when you don’t think he’ll love you back seems… foolish.”

“It would, to you,” you shrug. “I don’t pursue this thinking he’ll love me. Not this time. But I am alone in that opinion. Farewell, Desire.”

“See you around,” they say, and you fall away away away into the Sunless Lands.

Gallery-to-gallery is the right move. It tickles you that Death has living quarters, and the family picture on the wall is touching, if a bit ridiculous. As if all of the Endless would sit that close for something like that.

The door slams open within moments of your arrival. Death herself charges in, bearing that thunderous expression that all seven siblings share. She rarely frowns, but the strange nature of… well, everything about your presence is troubling at best. However, you have the blessings of your sister-selves. For all your doubts about belonging, their approval fills you with loads of confidence.

“Hello,” you say, clasping your hands before you. She looks you over with an arcane kind of concentration, but she flinches back at whatever she sees.

“…hello.”

Reminding yourself that these people are not your friends would be best. In another place, another time, she liked you. She trusted you. You were friends. You knew she liked the honesty and the simplicity of those who knew what they wanted. “I have not been here long. I have little to trade that you would want, and I am in no place to ask favors, but I would ask your patience to hear a story, and I would make a request.”

She peers into you, her brown-black eyes wise and keen. She tilts her head and doesn’t comment on the reason for your visit. There is no reason for her to doubt your intention, only your motivation. She must recognize the self-same energy that Desire had, for she does not ask a question of you outright. “I did not awaken you.”

You shake your head. “I am… I believe the best word is a prototype.” More like a scrapped concept.

“I’ll say,” she says, the ghost of a smile stretching her lips. It’s generally a good sign, humor. You’re only ever wary of it from Desire. “You feel like the Fates. Requesting something of me seems redundant. You’re exceptionally powerful in your own right.”

“I’m actually not. Think of me as a savage weapon whose blows never land.”

“So what is your story?” she asks, eyes gone serious. “Start from the end.”

The Hum senses the question in the air, and shows you darkness, sadness, heartbreak—all your own. But that is not the story you came to tell.

“Dream will die.”

In every universe, Death and Dream were all but twins. The connection they share, the deep family ties and affection—they have at least this in every universe. You see the same kind of pain in her eyes that you remember from the funeral.

You did not anticipate her asking for your point before you’d attempted to make it, so reordering the elements of your story takes a few moments with your eyes closed, settling the Hum once more.

“Dream will die, and you will collect him as you collected your sister. He will be killed by the Kindly Ones, but not until his kingdom has been shaken to the firmaments, countless innocent beings destroyed, and every scrap of happiness has been ripped from him repeatedly until he has no more choices than to accept it.

“I am not from here, no. I am from a place where all this happened before my eyes. It is similar enough to this place that the history there is doomed to repeat itself here. Mistakes were made in the place I come from. He made mistakes, everybody in his family made mistakes, starting as far back as his father. Each of us made stupid, prideful mistakes. I don’t intend for them to happen again. The Endless are accused of inability to change. But this is not true. They change too slowly to be noticed. And in his case, too slowly to save himself.” You plead with her to understand.

“Then that is his fate, terrible as it is!” Tears choke her voice. Perhaps she also smells the scent of death upon him. Perhaps her brother smelled the desolation in his bones long before you noticed it. By the time you had, it had been too late for him. “No matter your intentions, to recant the word of the Fates is impossible. This is his fate, disastrous as it is.”

“It does not have to be.” The rattling in the walls responds to the timbre of truth in your voice.

Her eyes cast about the room, watching the family portrait go still on the wall. She waits for the goldfish bowl to stop trembling before she turns to you again.

“Who are you?”

Hmmm—stars, void, chill—I suggested he create a sword—why should I stay on the path?—pristine sand behind you—a ceaseless—hmmm—friend—you truly do belong with him, don’t you—hmmm …

“I’m someone who wasn’t built to belong. But Dream made me feel like I did, for a while. And I owe it to him to… to make sure he’s still able to do that.”

Death considers your motivations.

“He doesn’t tolerate anyone’s meddling in his affairs, you know. Even from me. Even from… whatever you are.”

Ouch. You wince and cross your arms, fidgeting a little as you further course-correct. This wouldn’t be as easy as shaking down Desire. “It wouldn’t be as direct as that.”

She matches your posture, crossing her arms and giving you a look of disbelief. “He wouldn’t consider it that way if he ever found out.”

“I know that. Just… hear me out, please. I’m not trying to prevent you from… doing your job or anything, but… let me start over, and tell you the story I wanted to… before you asked to spoil the ending.”

A flash of macabre amusement crosses her face before she stifles it back down. “Why don’t you have a seat? Would you like a drink?”

This is so off course from what you thought this conversation would be that you accept. The Hum seems to have short-circuited at the hospitable not-questions Death had asked. Why don’t you have a seat? Indeed, why not? A drink between friends should always be accepted. Once the wine has been poured (red wine, very appropriate, very appreciated), she crosses one leg over another and leans back, waiting. Go on, then, the tilt of her head says.

You can’t look at her as you speak.

“Grief is powerful, you know? It’s… I know you’re not responsible for all of it. Actually, you’re not responsible for any of it. We are all accountable for our own grief. But also our anger, and disgust, and… and happiness, and peace. We are ultimately responsible for confronting it, grabbing hold of it, and letting it go before it does any harm.

“But going through it alone, doing the work alone, it’s impossible, for the big griefs, and angers… for the smaller ones as well. Mortals, gods, the Endless, and everybody in between—anybody who feels anything—are not exempt from that rule.

“Even the half-Endless son of a muse.”

Death goes still, tense with realizing who you’re talking about, and where your story starts. Death would come for everyone eventually, but occasionally, she would know about some well ahead of time. She has appointments to keep, after all.

And tomorrow is Orpheus’ wedding. You do not have time to waste.

I believe she wouldn’t find it very funny to begin with a sing in me, muse, but it amuses me to think about. Right. Sorry. I don’t know for sure where differences in this universe and the next begin and end, but—I’ll make a few guesses to the similarities:

Dream has not grieved his lost loves; he has not mourned the deaths of the friends he insisted he was indifferent towards. He has not confronted his anger toward his father nor his loathing toward his mother and chooses to wait out the storm of his every emotion. He has traded his peace and happiness for the sake of responsibility to his function.

Really, for someone so obsessed with responsibility in the first place, his personal responsibilities have been neglected to the point of certain doom. He has not changed this part of himself for ten billion years.

Am I off the mark?

No, I thought not.

But Orpheus is young. Extremely young. He is a child. And as much as his father may wish it, Dream cannot wait out his son’s grief over what’s coming because what is coming will be disastrous in cosmic proportions.

You already know the ending.

When Eurydice passed away, Orpheus, unable to accept her departure, denied himself the right to mourn her, even refusing to attend her funeral. This denial of grief would lead him down a path of tragedy.

He had been taught that his father’s family moved the stars; why couldn’t they help him? On some level, he knew beseeching his grandfather Zeus would not yield him the results he wanted. He instead went to the Dreaming to beseech his father for aid in bringing back his bride.

In response to his son asking for help, Dream proved incapable of helping him grieve. In Orpheus’ eyes, he’d been betrayed.

It’s important for this tale to note that Orpheus was not an Endless, but his blood still bound him to the ancient laws set by the First Circle. He had, through youthful hubris, broken the same law his father had seven thousand years before: that an Endless could not love a mortal.

At first, I couldn’t parse what the Circle was thinking with that rule, but when I saw the ruinous path that grief and loss spurred them both toward, I understood: the Endless that chose to love and feel enough to grieve were more likely to grieve when they loved and felt things for mortals, for loss was ever so close at hand.

That’s the trouble with mortals: they die.

Dream’s perceived indifference to his son’s pain led Orpheus on a ruinous path. From his hurt, he denied Dream as his father and asked his uncle to open a door to your realm—so that he might convince you to bring back Eurydice. Of course, you’re a professional, so you told him she’d already gone to Hades.

But Orpheus did not know the truth of the afterlife: one’s final destination is ultimately the choice of the one who died. That upon their arrival to the Sunless Lands, there was a place for them, somewhere they belonged… where they need not grieve, need not anger, need not do anything but be. Some souls choose to punish themselves for all eternity, and some leave their fates in the hands of the gods. His wife had gone to Hades. She had made her peace with it.

You do not choose where they go. You show them the options and all the doors available to them. They go through those doors themselves.

You tried to tell him, but he did not hear your advice. The moment you denied him, all he heard was another betrayal from his kin, and his grief worsened and deepened.

He asked you for a favor.

He asked you to bring her back, but you would not. It went against your function. Orpheus believed himself clever when he asked you to let him try to get her himself, to petition Hades himself for the return of his love. You warned him what this would mean should he fail or succeed, but he was a child, and had not even lived his life. He did not truly know what it meant when he traded his death, his choice in the afterlife, for the opportunity to divest Eurydice of her own.

He was a child.

He was Dream’s child, though. And he’d do foolish, ruinous things for love. As a father would ruin themselves for their children’s happiness.

Ultimately, Orpheus’ attempt to retrieve Eurydice was in vain. As the tale goes, he was given one chance by Hades to walk from his House to the land of the living, leading Eurydice behind him. Should he turn to ensure she was there, he would lose her forever. He could have walked through the darkness for years, uncertain if she was following. His impulsivity could have been the thing that turned his head. Some accounts say he was tormented by the sound of her agony, others say she asked him to look back. But his desire to see her outweighed his desire to save her, leading to his ultimate failure.

I like to believe that he finally understood what you meant when he turned. That she’d found a place she’d chosen for herself, one where she uniquely belonged because she wished it. And because of his selfish wants for her to belong beside him, he was putting both of them through more and more suffering, an endless kind of suffering.

Given time, love, understanding, and the opportunity to grieve and heal from his hurt, he could have figured it out. I spent three thousand years ruminating about this, and had even asked him about it myself. But the lesson was only learned when it was too late, when the Furies had doomed him in divine retribution for making them weep.

After his failure, Orpheus spiraled into despair and apathy. He ignored his mother’s attempts to protect him from the fate trudging toward him. He let himself be torn apart by the Bacchante, and his head landed in the sea, undying but unliving now, too.

Thousands of years later, he would ask Dream for a boon in exchange for a prophecy. His boon was death, and his father did not deny him. This lifted the protections of the Fates, and when vengeance came knocking in the Dreaming, his doom opened the door, and he died. His death was a direct result of his actions and inactions, a tragic end to an existence overflowing with love and grief.

You’d glossed over much of the unpleasantness of Dream’s downfall but feel you had made your point adequately.

Death looks troubled, though you aren’t as familiar with this face as you were in the other universe. “All this happened where you came from?” she asks, frowning at you.

Hmmm—She is dead. You are alive. So live.—

“Elsewhere. Elsewhen.”

“What would you have me do? Not collect Eurydice at all? Refuse my nephew of his bargain? Break the blood bond myself?”

“No.” You finish your wine in one go to silence the buzzing in your ears. “Changing those courses of fate would be too much of an intervention, and that future would not last long before the band snapped back into place. I ask you to talk to your nephew. Give him the wisdom he deserves before his father can harden his heart. Sit with him as long as is necessary, and grieve his loss with him.”

“Telling Dream to simply not be an ass when the time comes seems like the most natural intervention point.” She gets up to grab more wine.

“It’s not my place to live anyone else’s life for them. Dream’s place is not to live his son’s life in his stead. He won’t give that advice because he doesn’t believe it. Because he doesn’t believe that grief will end or that hatred can pass. And like his son, he wouldn’t believe it until too late. By saving Orpheus from his folly, Dream can be saved. It won’t be instantaneous, but he will be safe.”

You accept another glass of wine and allow her another question. “And what’s your place in all this?”

The Hum, for once, is curious to know the answer and does not give it to you.

“I want him to be able to change and live a life free of the unhappiness I explained.”

“You love him.”

“I do.”

She’s pleased with your quick answer and delighted by your ready reply.

“Were you lovers, then?”

You laugh, nearly spitting out your wine. “That seems awful familiar of you to ask a stranger.”

She shrugs, amused with herself. “He dazzles his lovers, but never any to the point of changing his fate,” she explains. “I do not want to know the details, but I am curious about the context.”

“I love him,” you affirm. “I have loved him for ten billion years. He has loved me for a blessed some of that time.”

“So doing all this is done in an effort to be with him again.” She frowns at you.

“Absolutely not,” you scoff. “It is impossible to grieve someone like Dream. He’s never really gone. Staying there, in that universe where he both was and was not, where fractured pieces of him live in the borders of reality and dreams, I… there, he was living life how I had done for ten billion years. Never belonging, never making a mark where I wanted. I never had him, so how could I lose him? And how do you grieve someone who isn’t lost at all? In the end, all he did was change.”

“You grieve them by letting them go. You don’t turn around to check if they’re behind you. You walk through your existence ever onward, hoping they are there with you but accepting that you’ll never know.”

It’s a solid truth if you’ve ever heard one. “It is not in my nature to accept fate as it comes. I am the savage weapon that severs any hand that would cut the strings of whom I love. I refuse to let him go. Not without trying to fix things first. This time, it will be different.”

Your words shake the walls again, but Death doesn’t look away this time.

“It will be different,” Death repeats to herself. “Let me get this straight: you want me to have a conversation with my nephew to convince him to accept his wife’s fate and not make a foolish bargain with me so that he will… ultimately not kill his father three thousand years later?”

“That’s not exactly what I asked… but yes.” You grimace. “I’ve already put other protections in place, but this is… I don’t want him to hurt like I know he would. He seeks enough suffering on his own.”

She’s quiet for a moment, then laughs. “He really is the same there as he is here.”

“I’d guessed.”

She deliberates your question with careful thought. “Alright,” she murmurs, nodding her head. “I think I have my answer, but I have a few more questions for you.”

“Ask away.” You brace for the Hum.

“You mentioned not belonging. What do you mean by that?”

“In the other universe, I didn’t show up in history or memory, except for the memories of the Endless, my sisters, and infrequent circumstances outside of that. I think it stems from pissing off Destiny or something. From what I’ve seen of this universe, the rules seem to be the same. I didn’t quite start off on the right foot with your older brother here, either.” It’s a complicated theory, but a theory you’re used to. It’s sound enough that the Hum seems to agree.

“Will you just walk away after all these plans are set? You wouldn’t want to… I don’t know, pursue him?”

“Dream of the Endless does not allow himself to be courted,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I told you I’m not doing this with any underhanded attempt to be with him or set myself up in that position. And it’s true. The clearer I keep my motives, the better. I want to spare him and his son the unhappiness of at least the next three thousand years. Or at least, spare them what I can.” Happiness and peace are the two things Dream did not allow himself. He’d be able to find them safely, at the very least.

“So what will you do when this is done and he is… saved?”

You shake your head, the Hum sending permutations rolling and rolling and never settling.

“I have no idea.”

INTERLUDE

#unhingery #TFHGTNRH #dream of the endless x reader #Morpheus x reader #dream x reader #sandman fanfiction #the sandman #dream of the endless

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not-poignant · 10 months ago

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Hi there! I absolutely love your works and, having followed you for a while now, I also really admire you as a person and an author in general. Every update on AO3 and Tumblr is always such a delight. I'm sorry if this ask is coming out of the blue or if it's something you've been asked before, but how did you take the plunge from writing predominantly fanfic to posting original fiction in serial form and also self-publishing novels? I'm currently in the process of drafting two original works after writing/posting fanfic regularly for years, and I'm just lost as to how to set everything up. I have a general idea (post chapter-by-chapter on AO3 and offer early access and some exclusive content on patreon or some other subscription service), but it all feels so daunting right now. Any bit of info or advice on how you got started would be immensely appreciated <3

Hi anon,

Tbh, I went from writing fanfic to original fiction because I had original characters in my fanfiction and readers asked me about them.

I had no kind of...dreams of being an original author in this way, I was published via other pathways already, and fanfiction was really an escape for me, a chance to break with all the conventions of standard writing and just do what I wanted.

But I needed a broader cast than what the movie gave me re: my first fanfics, and I added my own OCs, and left them in the background as much as possible, but even back while writing that fanfic, even the OCs were getting fanart. Sometimes readers would send me anons about them, or ask me more details about them.

Finally, I decided to write some hatesex between them, just something to kind of...idk get it out of my system? Answer what the readers were looking for?

The flow through therefore felt natural. Game Theory flows very naturally on from From the Darkness We Rise & Into Shadows We Fall. And from there, moving into other original works has been easy, in part, because I've often being doing alternate universes from a core of original characters.

If I want to introduce new original characters, I introduce them in stories where pre-existing original characters have already been established.

I didn't even start writing original works with a view to making money off that. In fact I thought it was a very foolish thing to do. A lot of people on AO3 don't want to read original works on AO3 and refuse to do it or only do it if it's PWP / pornography.

I started my Patreon account because readers asked me to. I got asks from very very generous people who wanted to know my Paypal, or asked if I'd start a Ko-Fi, and finally a few people just asked if I'd start a Patreon. I said I didn't think it was a good idea, and they said it was up to them if they wanted to pay me or not, but I should at least consider giving them the choice.

From there, I found it all very overwhelming. I made lots of mistakes. I had to go on hiatus for a year because I promised too much and couldn't deliver on many of those rewards. And for many years I only offered one early access chapter per week for one story, and my main stories were never early access (and still aren't, Underline the Black goes up for everyone at the same time - and while that may change in the future, it's definitely unconventional).

I've always been transparent with my readers that with very few exceptions, if they just wait, they eventually get everything for free. But if they want to support this kind of writing and/or enjoy it, and can comfortably afford to send some dollars my way, they can ensure that I can keep writing this way.

I have for a long time offered no exclusive content at all, I believe that can do well, but it's not my preferred way of doing things.

This career has been incredibly reader driven, anon. I would not personally attempt it cold, without a really fantastic readerbase who encouraged me every step of the way in the first place, because I am a cautious, insecure writer who doesn't like to take risks. So I can't give you advice on how to build this career without the support of the readers there in the first place, and I believe the only reason why I had their support was, in part, because of the actual strength of the writing itself. Which isn't to say it's the best, it's not, it's what I needed at the time and it's what a few other people needed, and that's basically how this works.

If you turn up with the writing, and the audience comes, and they want the story, you have the career.

In terms of practical advice - you can introduce original characters in fanfiction, just be aware that readers tend to be hostile by default if they pull any significant 'screen time' away from the fandom characters (and readers are extremely savvy to authors trying to build a financial business through AO3)

It IS daunting, but the good news is you can do a soft launch. You can open a Patreon or Ream account tomorrow and tell no one. You can mess with your graphics and your tier rewards to your heart's content when you don't have any subscribers. Build a buffer of early access/chapters, and make sure you don't overpromise on anything. Whatever you think you can realistically deliver to readers, cut it in half, because the stress of chapter update deadlines every month can really add up and it's a very different landscape to novel releases.

You can take your time, you can build interest slowly.

Remember you can never ever mention any kind of site where you're getting paid inadvertently, sneakily, or directly on AO3. You can't mention Ream, you can't mention Patreon, you can't mention Ko-Fi, you can't go 'learn more about my writing here' and link to those places. You can't mention buy links. You can only mention sites like Tumblr, Linktree, Twitter etc. Places where the point of sale isn't happening. Not doing so risks AO3's Not For Profit status and risks your entire account, and it's not worth it.

I did an interview with Subscriptions for Authors where I actually talk about many of these things so you can watch (or listen to) the podcast here if you're inclined! It also talks about the importance of community-building, gratitude to the readers, and generosity.

I am here because my readers wanted me to be. So I'm very concerned with making sure I can give them the best writing possible within my abilities. This makes me not very suited to offering 'how to start in this career' advice because it was a happy accident. It's hard to teach something I have never done your way myself, anon, because I worry I'd give bad advice. My writing had people turning up, but I'm not sure anything else I did, added much! I think responding to Tumblr asks and replying to every comment helped too! But...I don't know for sure.

But this career path does make me pretty well suited to offering 'how to keep this going' advice, because I've been doing this for ten years. <3333

#asks and answers #pia on writing #pia on subscription #pia on fandom #i don't know how i got this lucky #but i do know that i stay lucky because i work hard on the writing #so the writing is where it's at #i've been thinking a lot lately on drafting some kind of course on #how to write hooky serials #but if you're writing novels/books that won't be very suitable to you!#i'm not writing serials to turn them into novels #i'm just writing straight up serials that are very messy and difficult to turn into novels lol #idk i do all of this ass backwards #and recently just pulled out of giving a speech on my success as a disabled author #because i actually feel like i'm not good at what i'm doing in a way that is tangibly useful to others #if nothing else anon #make sure you join the Subscription for Authors Facebook #and watch some of the podcasts on YouTube #Christopher Hopper's keynote speech is particularly good

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themarydragon · 5 months ago

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How um

How illegal is it for me to ask about multiple fics for that ask game. Just out of curiosity.

Because I would love to know about some of the fics I haven’t heard about, like Bloomic Toasty (WHAT is that), and I would love to hear your thoughts about The Chakwas Fic (supreme group trauma edition).

But I am also 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 about any mention of the totk fics. Respectfully.

You can answer this privately if you want, I’m genuinely not wanting to be a pest here

Completely legal. Any fine I might charge you, you have prepaid in kindness.

"Blooming Panic" is a great little visual novel somebody on here turned me onto, with "Bloomic" being the self-referential shorthand they use in-game. It was great for a mental break last winter when I was sorta in the shit and I think it's free on itch.io That and Andromeda Six (not yet finished) and Our Life were a nice break from darker/harder games and were exactly the diversion I needed. A+ do recommend. That said, there's four routes for Bloomic, and each route has "good" and "bad" endings (as per usual) and the 'bad' ending for Toaster (not their real name) Would Not Stop rolling around in my head. It haunted me. So "Bloomic Toasty" is my taking The Bad Ending and fixing it. Because I can't stand sad endings. Life is sad enough, I want my escapism to be different. I don't have the power to give myself or my loved ones happy endings (all jokes aside) but By God I can do it in fic.

THE CHAKWAS FIC is 65% complete. I have the bare bones ready, I know the ending, I have a (very) rough outline and right now I'm writing When Everything Gets Bad. So it's slow. Part I is complete, and is ME1 time. Part 2 is finished and ALMOST all posted - I'm posting a chapter a week, on Wednesdays - and is ME2 time. Part 2 ends in a place that got me yelled at by everyone I've disclosed the ending to so I'm looking forward to getting hate mail in a couple weeks. Part 3 is my WIP, it's ME3 time and is what I am writing right now. I will NOT be posting it right when I finish part 2 because I need to get it DONE and be sure I'm hitting the right points/plots and I'm not leaving threads dangling. Part 4 is outtakes, more or less, and I have no idea how much will eventually end up there. It is Chakwas' POV. I adore Karin Chakwas, and writing from her perspective allows me to completely gloss over most of the missions and deal instead with the implications of them, and dig into some secondary/background characters that otherwise don't get much time to shine. Writing from Chakwas' POV also - and most importantly - gave me an opportunity to fix the gaping plot hole that is Jeffrey "Joker" Moreau, as well as the utter character assassination that is committed upon him in ME3. TL:DR we already know, NOW, the genes responsible for Vrolik's and there is gene therapy in the ME universe (canonically, as early as ME1) so what the hell, Bioware. Anyways. The WIP I'm currently on - Through Hell - focuses on how more or less everyone (outside the ship) betrays Shepard, in one way or the other. Every major government - canonically - knows the Reapers are real, and yet literally no one will help Shepard deal with it, for a variety of infuriating reasons, and she's smart enough to see how fucked up it all is. By focusing the fic on the Normandy crew (via Chakwas) I can get into the meat of that and have a good reason to skip most of the gameplay.

TOTK I just did a blurb on the Zelda POV for another ask, so I'll expound a little on the Link POV. The title is Restless Waters, from a quote by Sanober Khan: "Do not turn me into restless waters if you cannot promise to be my stream.”

The runner-up for title quote is from Bertolt Brecht, "The headlong stream is termed violent but the riverbed hemming it in is termed violent by no one.”

Thinking about canon Link... he's terrifying. The totk Link commits korok atrocities, intentional or not, as strapping them to ROCKETS is EXPECTED. The murder machines you are encouraged to make are horror shows. But what struck me is (serious spoilers here) the doppleganger fight once you have the four sages. Sidon and Riju know that's not Zelda, but the younger two - Tulin and Yunobo - definitely think that's their Princess. So them showing up to help at that fight is just tooooooo good for me to pass up. The song I'm using to stay in the mindset to write that passage is Halsey's "Control"

And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" I can't help this awful energy Goddamn right, you should be scared of me Who is in control?

#answer asks #wip game #ask game #me:le #chakwas fic #totk #loz #cwrd #fic writer #calm waters run deep #bloomic

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corvusunnx · 2 years ago

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mushy may day 9: massage/aftercare

I chose massage :))

pairing: aether/rain

summary: aether is exhausted from taking care of everyone else, rain forces him to relax and gives him a massage.

quintessence ghouls have always been known to ease the emotional burdens of others. They're able to take the stress of another being as their own.

aether always helps the other ghouls when he can, relieving all of his friends whenever he can. he's the most selfless of his bandmates, never taking himself into consideration for anything. after a long practice, aether helps dew rid of some of his frustration, since the smaller ghoul couldn't seem to play well today.

"thank you, aether, you're always there when I need you." He looks up with a grin. they both sigh, one of relief and the other, well, frustration. annoyance might even be a good word. dew has always been one to get annoyed and angry easy. it's not hard to push his buttons.

"no problem." aether forces a smile through his teeth. his tail twitches angrily behind him while he tries to calm himself.

rain sees the two and walks over to greet them. he's been keeping an extra close eye out for aether, since he's been letting people take advantage of his ability lately.

"Hello, how was practice?"

"eh, shitty. how did it go for you?" dew asks. aether just stands there, still trying to work on his nerves.

"hm, it was pretty ok. I finally got a part down that I've been working at."

"that's good. wish I could say the same." dew laughs. his fangs show past his lips in a wide grin.

"aether, how was practice for you?" rain tries to pull aether into the conversation. he wants to know how aether is feeling, being told from something either than the larger ghoul's body language. aether lets out a big sigh, searching the room mindlessly as he finds the right way to word his sentence. as if the walls will have it written out for him.

"it went alright. I might lay down for a bit, though."

"hm?" I thought we were going to play board games tonight. I don't wanna play without you." rain's voice is coated in concern. dew left, getting bored of the conversation. he's known to just act on whatever he wants or feels at the moment. a little ball of impulses.

rain turns to leave himself after trying to talk to aether a bit, but after a bit of trying he gave up.

"aether, I can tell taking care of everyone has been messing with you lately. if you don't go easier on yourself I'll make sure you relax. I hate seeing you like this."

"no, rain I promise im-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer. I want to see you being your normal happy self."

aether sighs knowing he's fighting a losing battle. the water ghoul leaves, the quiet sound of his leather boots tapping against the marble floors. he leads himself to his room and lays down, finally starting to calm down from the frustration he took from dew. the stress he's had still remains, everything seeming to just pile up instead of eventually fading away. maybe rain's right. maybe he's been worrying too much about the others to properly take care of himself. it might not be so bad to listen to rain.

the next day aether is still in the same state as he fell asleep in. bags begin to form under his eyes, his tail dragging on the floor behind him. rain knocks on the door to make sure aether is awake and offer to walk with him to breakfast. aether doesn't know, but rain is going to make today flow as nicely for aether is possible. he asked the rest of the ghouls to make sure they relax today too, to prevent any more stress being inflicted on aether.

"morning, sleeping beauty. you woke a bit later than usual today." rains soft voice welcomes aether when he opens the door, rubbing his eyes.

"good morning, rain. what time is it?"

"almost 11 am."

"Oh, Yeah.. that's a bit later than usual, sorry."

"Its ok! I was a bit busy thus morning anyway, so it works out. do you want to get some breakfast with me?"

"I'd love to." aether smiles, taking rain's hand. they walk together through the hallways, light glimmering from the soft windows they pass. the natural lighting is enough not to need anything else, and the colors from the stained glass enhance the building's beauty. the two ghouls talk about whatever nonsense comes into mind, laughing and smiling with each other. rain is happy to see aether giving a genuine smile. it's the first he's seen for a few days. he wishes he could take a picture, just to be able to stare at it longer.

they find their way to the kitchen and grab whatever food the others didn't get to. unfortunately all of the muffins were gone. dew probably ate them, knowing the little bottomless pit he is, especially when it comes to sweets. rain hands aether a banana smoothie, one he asked a sister of sin to make. he sees her in the kitchen often, so he was sure to ask her to make one. he knows those are aether's favorite, and wanted to be able to surprise him.

"this is for you. I told one of the sisters to make it."

"thank you! you're always so kind." aether's face lights up and he begins to sip on it.

"how about we go outside and eat? maybe by the pond." rain suggests with a smile written on his face. aether gives a moment of consideration before agreeing.

they sit on the dock, out behind the ministry. the sun's rays hit the water perfectly, making the tiny droplets sparkle in golden hues. rain fights the urge to dive in and swim, knowing he's doing this for aether. he wants aether to enjoy the soothing ripples of water, lapping at the ground nearby.

ignoring the food he got, rain positions himself to sit behind aether, trailing his hands along aether's broad shoulders.

"your shoulders are so stiff, aeth! no wonder you've been so cranky lately!" rain chuckles, now forming near circular motions with his wrists in attempt to ease the muscles his hands cover. aether purrs at the gentle rubbing of rain's hands along his shoulders, sighing at the relief. his feet dangle just above the deep blue water, the sounds of the waves helping calm him. rain always knows how to get someone to relax. it's like it's in his nature, to be so peaceful, and able to give others that same peace.

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ofturmoil · 7 months ago

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my name is [ ARABELLA KASPRAK ] … and i am from [ HELLTOWN, OHIO ] and i’m a [ DRAMA TEACHER ]. i lived in helltown for [ 21 YEARS ] because [ I WAS BORN HERE AND FORCED TO RETURN ]. i am [ 31 YEARS OLD] my pronouns are [ SHE/HER ] and i am [ EMPATHETIC, ADVENTUROUS, FEARLESS ] though some may say i’m [ TEMPERAMENTAL, SHADY, UNTRUSTWORTHY ]. i also hear i look a lot like [ MAIKA MONROE ] but, i don’t know if i see it. i’m here because [ OF FAILED CAREER ] but, maybe there’s more to it than that. you never know with helltown.

TRIGGER WARNING: drugs, addiction, toxic family dynamics, mentions of blood

There’s a smile on your face as you watch flames devour the house from your childhood; the house that keeps coming back to you in your dreams. The house you were unable to escape. You hear your mother scream, and you laugh loudly – you catch yourself before she smacks you; before you even need a chance to explain yourself. It was involuntary; subconscious. Of course this would happen a week after you move back, you think. Nothing good ever happened here, not for you at least. As the inferno unfolds in front of you, your hand catches a lighter in your pocket and you light up a cigarette. Nothing good ever happens here, and you wish you could turn back the time.

serafina – wears a bright blazing crown of flowers and down

Born in Helltown, Ohio, Arabella was a child who was immediately introduced to a life of wealth and intellectuality: her father is still pathetically joking she learned how to say “diagnosis” before she even knew how to utter the word “mother”. She was, however, unusually gloomy for a toddler; and too depressed for a child. Arabella, softly named Bella by her nannies, was well aware of the reason why everyone thought she was different and why she felt this unbearable pressure in her chest most of the days: even if she was given everything she wanted, it was rare to receive a hug from her parents. They would, after all, rarely leave their operating rooms. Bella grew up with sitters and housekeepers, with no friends.

She’d spend most of her time watching films, dreaming of visiting Los Angeles and Nakatomi Plaza. The friends she eventually made were in the same boat as she was: the ones barely loved by their parents; the ones who found refuge in cinema and video games.

sadie said, "i'm gonna buy us an old house in a big town where we can start a life and burn it all to the ground"

For her 18th birthday she didn’t ask for a car or an apartment – she wanted a motorbike and permission to study drama. When she was finally granted both, she left her town with two middle fingers up in the air. Hoping to never see this place again, she got on a plane and opened her eyes only when they landed.

She led a relatively sheltered life before, and her new start in California came with a lot of changes: studies meant parties, work meant searching for another dose of adrenaline, new friendships meant one night stands. She got into the life of illegal racing during her first year, by the second she was already working as a stunt double for a small indie film. She didn’t become an actress as she wished, but what she ended up doing brought more joy than anything else.

As she promised herself, Bella rarely visited her parents, and they weren’t exactly mad – they were more unhappy about their dauther’s career choice than that. Your sister was a lot better. Where is she. Where is she…

Bella would call sometimes, and sometimes they’d answer. She surrounded herself with the people of her choice, and some of them may not have been the best influence.

She can’t remember when was the first time she was offered a little plastic bag, and she can’t remember when was the first time she accepted it – it could’ve been one of the races during a breezy summer night, perhaps. There’s also a chance she enjoyed it a lot more than expected – it did, unfortunately, become her road to descent.

They all were disgusted by her bad habit, but they were happy to watch her bleed – at least as long as her career was going well. When she pawned her dignity for cash and could not remember the phone calls she would have, they’d finally become concerned. And after hours and hours of talking, they’d put her life on pause.

That’s how her Hollywood dreams ended up in rehab.

"people are who they are, " she said "and i want their kind of love where you're bad together and it's good"

Her rebirth tasted like blood. She couldn’t talk about it – only scream or cry. Bella had a couple of decisions to make: either stay in the city of Angels and get back to work, which, as her shrink said, was not exactly good for her health, or go back to Helltown to work as a teacher at a shitty college – a job she had already secured as there was no one else who would take it.

It was humiliating, and yet her finally sober mind made the decision quite easily: she went back to her hometown, hoping she wouldn’t have to stay too long. Just for a bit. Just until she solves her own personal trouble she had with this town.

HEADCANONS.

Did you notice her sister was only mentioned once? Well, she doesn't like talking about her: she is (was?) one of the missing bowling alley employees and Bella is still very much grieving. Some might say her disappearance was the reason Arabella went off the rails. Give me a dynamic of someone pushing Bella to start looking for her again.

Catch her riding her bike around town at night. Yes, she’s still very much in love with speed and the rush of adrenaline it gives her.

Has been sober now for a couple of years. However, she surely went to a lot of parties back in her early twenties. Her life was very, very messy.

Does not get along with her parents at all. Even though they now live in the same town, she rarely visits them. She’d love to salvage it, but she’s not entirely sure if she’s capable of it.

Can be nice and friendly, but usually appears cold and unapproachable. She’s dripping with cynicism and gets annoyed easily. However, if she becomes your friend – you now have a person you can trust your entire life. However, she does have some trust issues.

#& arabella. intro.

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bifuriouswaterbender · 1 year ago

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Hey ya, hope your week is going well. I am torn between Eddie Munson and Thraxus Boorman for the Spotify game.

Send me a ship, character, or fandom and a number between 1 & 100, and I'll use my Spotify Wrap as fic inspo!

We messaged about 26! Which is Running Up That Hill as the Loveless cover, and since the original is Max's song, Boorman it is!

“Going to be late for dinner, love,” Boorman grumbled to himself as he ducked to avoid another arrow. He’d known this day would come eventually, but somehow Boorman had convinced himself he could avoid the forces of Tir Asleen. They’d never get close enough to realize he was anything more than a common bandit.

Stupid really. Thraxus Boorman was an imposing figure and a unique face. He should have known that he’d be recognized immediately when scuffling with the troupes.

And since they recognized him, it was time for a fight.

There were too many to fight, though. Boorman knew that from a sheer numbers standpoint, so he was playing the duck and evade game instead.

He scrambled around a corner and stopped short as he took in the set of soldiers who had clearly gone around for this purpose.

“I don’t suppose you can turn around and pretend you never saw me,” he asked.

The both pulled their swords out.

“Didn’t think so.”

Boorman threw himself into the fight. It might have gone well too if everyone else hadn’t caught up. If he hadn’t been caught out.

“You know my girlfriend is going to be mighty cross,” he said as lightly as he could while they bound his hands and feet and threw him on a cart. “She was making something special tonight. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I think there are crabs involved. I was really looking forward to that. Don’t suppose we can wrap this up quickly, so I can get back to her and enjoy that meal?”

No one answered. He hasn’t expected them to. Just as he hadn’t expected Sorsha to go easy on him. Still, he’d hoped for a little better than just being tossed in a cell.

Scorpia had to know he’d been captured. She had to know he hadn’t simply run off. He’d made promises to her.

Granted Boorman had made promises before, and they hadn’t always been fulfilled previously. She knew that. Still, she had to know she was different.

He’d make whatever deals Sorsha wanted to get back to her and freedom. Except he suspected he didn’t have the right information for freedom. Sorsha would want to know where Madmartigan was. Boorman didn’t know. She’s want to know where he’d gone. Boorman only knew some of those answers.

Boorman had known his luck would run out eventually. He’d tricked himself into thinking his lovely little life with Scorpia had changed things—that he wasn’t cursed by the choices he’d made early in life.

“Don’t think I’ll be home for dinner, love,” he muttered to himself.

#thraxus boorman #boorman #willow #willow 2022 #writing game #ask game #spotify wrapped #my writing

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mcfiddlestan · 2 years ago

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Fanfic Ask Game

F, M, S, T, Y

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Chapter 25 of Dark Side, part one of the Picture Perfect series:

“What’s wrong?” Loki asked quietly.

“Nothing! God, can’t a guy have a bad day without everyone harping all over him?” Tony’s face scrunched into an angry pout.

“Who has harped on you, dearest?”

Tony bristled at the endearment. Adding to Tony’s unexplained anger, Loki’s quiet demeanor was starting to piss him off. “Everyone!” he complained.

Loki didn’t think they were getting anywhere with this line of questioning, and his patience was starting to wane. He inhaled deeply and again kept his voice low. “Anthony.” Tony didn’t answer him, but he did kick his mattress. “Could you look at me for one moment, please?” With his hands fisted on his narrow hips, Tony whirled around and glared at Loki. “Why are you so upset?”

Tony’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I’m not upset.”

Loki’s eyes roamed around the room. “Your doors, your chair, and your chemistry textbook would say otherwise. If you tell me, darling, then I will leave you be. I promise.”

“I. Am. Not. Upset!”

Loki said nothing, even as Tony waved his arms with every word, stomped his foot on the last, and looked about ready to strangle someone. Loki just set his gaze on the raging Tony and eyed him silently. A small sigh of relief escaped Loki’s lips when Tony crumpled into himself and, with a groan, fell to a sitting position on the bed. He dropped his head in his hands and pushed at his hair before returning his hands to cover his face.

“How did you…?” Tony seemed to struggle with his words. “How did you do it? How did you go back and forth the way you did?”

Loki rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, a silent plea for patience. He had an idea what Tony meant, but he asked anyway, “Between what, my love?”

Tony still hid behind his hands, his words now muffled. “Guys and girls.”

His suspicion confirmed, Loki moved away from the door. He reached for Tony’s desk chair and rolled it over to the bed to sit in front of him. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees so he could be closer to Tony without touching him and setting him off again. “I was waiting for this to happen.”

Tony dropped one hand and rested his head on the other. “What?”

One side of Loki’s mouth lifted. “Your identity crisis.”

Tony bolted upright. “That’s not funny, Loki.”

“I’m not making a joke, Anthony.” Loki sat up as Tony relaxed minutely. “I told you once before that not everyone is like me. In the same sort of way, you went from female to female since you were…,” he looked to Tony for the answer.

“Fourteen,” he supplied.

“Four — fourteen?” Loki questioned, his voice rising slightly in pitch. Tony only shrugged, and Loki nodded. “All right, fourteen. In that same way, I went from female to male and back and forth. I don’t know why I never had a line drawn between the two. I only went with what I felt.” Loki’s hand was on his chest to emphasize his point, and now he moved it between them. “This — you being with a man after nearly a decade of chasing women — was bound to disturb your psyche eventually, sweetheart. Why do you think so many of our friends and people who know your reputation are surprised you’re with me?”

Tony sighed, knowing that everything Loki was saying made sense. Yet he was still frustrated, and in that frustration, he scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to hide a slight sniffle. Loki watched him silently for a moment, contemplating, itching to touch him, to calm him.

“She struck a nerve with you, didn’t she?” he said quietly. It was less a question, more a simple observation.

Tony didn’t move at first, still hiding behind his hands. When he finally lifted his face to Loki’s, his eyes were red and glistening. He nodded his head guiltily, and his lips quivered. “I’m sorry…”

“Oh…” Loki let out a small chuckle and rose to move next to Tony, kicking out his leg to push the desk chair away. Tony’s arms went around Loki’s torso in a death grip, and more tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes. Loki struggled for breath but didn’t want to break the contact.

“I’m so sorry, Loki.”

Loki ran his hands over Tony’s hair and back, soothing like he wanted to, and kissed the crown of his head. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” He rocked them a little, pausing when a thought occurred to him. “Unless…”

Tony pulled back enough to look up at Loki. “Unless what?”

Loki lifted his brows. “Unless you want to…” The words got caught in his throat, suddenly thick with emotion and fearful of Tony’s response. “Do you want to be with a woman again, Anthony?”

“No!” Tony sat up and grabbed Loki’s arms, not realizing his fingers were digging into Loki’s skin. He sighed and shook his head again. “I don’t — I hadn’t thought — I mean, I didn’t want to until….”

“Until Amy brought it up,” Loki finished.

Tony nodded, his eyes tearing up again. “I swear, I haven’t thought about anybody else or wanted anyone else since I’ve been with you.” Tony’s hands went to Loki’s face cupping it between his hands as Loki’s eyes filled. “I love you, Loki.” Loki blinked, and tears trickled from his eyes. He unintentionally laughed, unsure why he was getting so emotional. “I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of doing. And I am so afraid that…,” Tony stopped because his voice cracked. “I’m afraid that I’m going to fuck this up so bad. Because Howard’s right; that’s what I do. I fuck things up.”

Loki had been leaning back with Tony’s weight on him, and at Tony’s words, he sat up straighter, pulling Tony’s hands away from his face by the wrists. “You do not, Anthony. I never want to hear those words come from your lips again. Do you understand me?”

Tony grinned softly, and his fingers curled into Loki’s sweater. “That’s why I love you.” Loki, still angry at his words, said nothing. “You don’t see me as a fuck-up. You don’t let me get away with my stupid shit, like tonight. You don’t let me push you away.” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Loki’s cheek, and slipped his arm around him again.

Loki stroked Tony’s face. “Because I love you, too, Anthony.”

When I was writing this, I didn't have an outline. I sort of just came up with small scenarios in my head and built the story around those. And one of those scenarios was Tony dealing with being in a relationship with a man after nearly a decade of chasing anything in a skirt. And it just made sense to me that there should be a moment of Tony asking Why am I suddenly attracted to men? and this whole questioning of himself and his sexuality. Re-reading it now, I could probably fix it up a little, but I think I did a pretty good job for a noob, lol.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I'm super close to finishing up my Xmas WinterFrost fake dating AU, and after that, I want to work on my Single Dads WinterFrost AU. But an idea has been in the back of my mind for a few months now for a quick thing about Bucky and Pepper. Bucky is a tattoo artist and the lone single guy among his group of friends. Pepper is the gal Loki thinks would be perfect for Bucky. But Bucky isn't exactly looking to date. He's been indulging himself with adult chatrooms lately and is kind of hyper-focusing on one particular woman at the moment. And Pepper has a tiny secret, too.

So, yeah. I have hopes for the new year.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

I'm a sucker for childhood besties turned lovers, enemies to lovers, college AUs, exes to lovers, all the pining and UST. Basically, anything you might see in a soap opera plot. lol

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

A/B/O probably is my number one. I don't hate them, but I'm very particular about Hooker AUs or Stripper AUs. Some fics I've started tend to write the characters completely OOC and I'm just not a fan of the way some of my fave characters get written.

Y: A character you want to protect.

Anthony Edward Stark. And my Loki, ofc.

Sorry that took so long! And thanks for asking. :)

Fanfic Ask Game

#fanfic ask game #mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea #asked and answered

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malakhofmercy · 1 month ago

Text

Dear diary,

I've had you in my back pocket for a little while now but I have decided to debut my first entry in the wake of yesterday. Though it was not a particularly awful day, or even a bad one, it hit me as I laid in bed this morning that I was out of options. It took me a while to get to this point, as it's only the coupling of having both my husband and best friend living in the same house for a few days that I reached this verdict. But nonetheless, I am left without an ear to properly and privately confide in. So I turn to you, like millions have over the millenia.

Now for my complaining.

Yesterday started with everyone sleeping in, which meant I was up with the cat around 10 and my husband didn't enter the restroom until noon and I didn't get to see his face until 1 and then he forcibly roused our friend at 1:30 by jumping on her mattress. I had woken up our friend and been promised she needed no more sleep- but she fell back asleep while I did the dishes. Slept through all the chores I did and the jets flying overhead for the football game. And obviously it being her vacation I was reluctant to wake her from her deep restful sleep... but by the time we hit the town for some food at 2, we had barely three hours of sunlight left in the day.

Food was great, even with the sun in my eyes, and my husband bought me a hat so I could eat without going blind. Our friend was too sore from the walking the two days before, so we nixed our intial plans of going out to just head back home. Cartoons and card games were had, and the day melted away slowly. By the time we packed ourselves up to venture out for dinner, I had forgotten my grumpy morning feelings of being left alone and awake, cleaning and housekeeping while everyone wasted daylight sleeping thirteen hours.

Food was great again, and our friend tried sushi for the first time in a rousing success. We got bubble tea and once we were home again, the routine resumed. My husband poured a stiff drink, my friend and I popped an edible, and happily snuggled into a Saturday night. The two of them jumped into an online video game with other mutual friends and I gamed handheld beside them.

And suddenly, it got bad!

Reasons why are entirely unknown and beyond my guessing ability. All I know is my friend's mood turned dour sharply. Even now I pause writing to play back every second to try and identify a reason. But as they finished their game and I mine, and we decided on a movie to watch, she became sullen. More unhelpfully, she became incapable of saying much beyond "I dunno" and shrugging and frowning. My husband took over interfacing for the most part, as I was quite high and very lost on what to do.

Eventually, the movie turns on. 15 minutes in, my friend paws at me and asks to watch something else.

She is obviously visibly upset by the implication of sex work in the movie, and she leaves to the restroom. Despite myself, I feel frustrated. We had a conversation the nights prior about triggers for her after she witnessed a hanging in my husband's video game. She had done more shrugging when we asked what else may upset her, and left the answer at suicide and self harm. I furiously whisper with my husband but we're lost on what more we could have done.

She comes back and he reopens the movie library with new vigor to try again. Attempts to talk to her, or to offer her support or advice were met with... shrugging.

To my horror, she shows interest in nothing in the library except a godawful historical fiction action drama. My husband tries to text me sympathy. 15 minutes in, a cheap jumpscare happens. Our friend again asks we turn off the movie.

By this moment, it is 1am. I am checked out, high and grumpy. I am staring out a corner of the window where the blinds don't reach, and praying for the dark to swallow me. My husband's efforts to reassure our friend fail, and he puts on the most gentle silly anime possible instead of risking anything else. Suddenly my friend shoves away my snacks on the couch and crawls into my lap, and so I begrudgingly remain her pillow until past 2am, wherein I finally make my escape to bed.

So, recap: my fucking husband and friend ate up our day and our plans by sleeping in, and at night my friend completely failed to communicate her needs leaving the two of us to stress and flounder away our Saturday night trying to take care of her, guessing all the while.

I had woken up from a nightmare yesterday, and a harsh dose of reality in my inbox. I had set up an appointment with a local medical facility that clogged my Instagram feed, a place that advertised stretching sessions for people with mobility issues and chronic pain. It was for my friend to go to during her visit out here, as she suffers with both and her resources at home are minimal. I sent an email to the facility with her paperwork and a long introduction. I explained how she was a young woman who's life was upended by long covid making her physically disabled, and how dire I believed this service to be for her.

...

As an afterthought in the wake of the election, I mentioned we were both transgender and should that be an issue for our appointment to be cancelled. I went to bed Friday night with an appointment confirmation in my inbox and woke up Saturday with a cancellation notice. My friend forgot about it entirely, so never asked about the change in plans. Why tell her?

...

I tried so hard to make yesterday work. And for what?

Whatever. I'm done writing.

#digital diary

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