#GOD FINDING THE SOURCES FOR SOME OF THESE NEARLY MADE ME GIVE UP | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nomie-11 · 2 months ago

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Chapter 13 - An Inferno of Desire

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CONTENT WARNING: my poor attempt at writing smut for the first time!

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This surge of… emotions was overpowering.

Genevieve couldn’t handle it, and Tairn needed to get a grip. Whatever he and Sgaeyl were doing, they needed to stop. Now.

She stumbled forward, nearly collapsing as she made her way from the chair at the window to her cloak at the door, before she slammed it open.

Fuck me, she groaned, as Liam immediately slammed his door open too, hair tousled and night shirt thrown on halfway, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise.

“Genevieve! Are you alright? I came as soon as I heard your door-” Genevieve held her hand up, clutching her cloak tightly around herself.

“For the love of Zihnal, Liam get out of my way!” She spoke through gritted teeth, suppressing the urge to do ungodly things to him.

“You look insane, are you ok?” He asked again, his voice laced with worry. “You’re looking at me like…”

Genevieve licked her bottom lip.

“Like what?”

“Like…” he cocks his head to the side. “Like you're not yourself. You don’t look like you feel—you know—like yourself.”

Because I don’t! She wants to scream. Tairn and Sgaeyl are fucking and ruining my night!

“I’m good! Go to bed!” She quickly says, shoving Liam back through his open door. She catches a glimpse of Violet in his room but shuts the door behind him before she does something else to Liam.

Once his door is shut tightly, Genevieve runs.

She makes it to the entrance of the spiral steps leading down from her hallway before she needs to lean back against the cold stone wall and breathe through the fog of Tairn’s emotions. Once the wave passes, she races down the steps, keeping one hand against the wall in case she’s pulled under again.

Away. She has to get away from everyone until Tairn finishes whatever the hell he and Sgaeyl are doing. Stumbling out of the stairwell, she emerges at the foundation of the walls of the citadel. Snow fills the sky, and she tips her head back, savoring the brief kiss of snowflakes on skin that's heated for all the wrong reasons

The air is crisp and chilled, and—

Her eyes pop open at the scent in the air and she whirls around, her cloak whipping behind her as she finds the source of the sweet, easily identifiable smoke.

Xaden is leaning back against the wall, one foot braced on the stone, smoking and watching her like she doesn't have a care in the world.

“Give me a drag of that right now,” She says, her voice firm but full of desire as she eyes the Churam in his hand.

“Woah, Gen,” he blows out a puff of smoke. “Want some? Unless you’re here to continue our long-standing argument, in which case, none for you.”

Her jaw practically unhinges. “Oh my gods, Xaden, don’t play games.”

His eyes light up, clearly enjoying this ordeal. “You know we aren’t allowed to smoke, right, Gen?”

“Whoever made that stupid rule clearly never bonded mated dragons,” A smirk lifts the corner of his mouth at her biting words.

Gods, she could stare at his lips forever. They are perfectly shaped and yet entirely too decadent for the slashing line of his jaw. His hands, hold out in a truce, the perfectly rolled Churam resting neatly, waiting. He offers it to her with a cocked eyebrow, and she notices that it's the one with the scar.

“It helps with the distancing yourself,” he says, clicking his lighter but not holding it up to her roll. “Beyond what shielding does, of course.”

She shakes her head and crosses through the newly filled snow to brace her weight on the wall beside him, letting her head fall back on the stone.

“Suit yourself,” he inhales deeply on the Churam and then puts it out against the wall.

“Gods, could you just fuck me already?” She asks, her voice strained. “It feels like I’m on fucking fire.”

“Yeah. That happens.” His laugh holds a wicked edge, and she makes the utterly unforgivable mistake of turning to see his smile. Xaden, while brooding and bossy, dangerous and lethal, is a toe-curling sight that makes her pulse quicken. But Xaden laughing, his head thrown back with a smile curving his mouth, is drop-dead beautiful. her stupid, foolish heart feels like there’s a fist around it.

There is nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice, nothing she wouldn’t give to have one unguarded moment with this man she’s going to be tethered to for the rest of her life. This has to be Tairn. It just has to be.

And yet, she knows it isn’t. While she’d admired Liam upstairs, she is completely, utterly obsessed with Xaden.

His eyes meet hers in the moonlight.

“Oh, Gen, you’re going to have to learn to shield against Tairn or his escapades with Sgaeyl will drive you mad—or into someone’s bed.”

She squeezes her eyes shut so she can escape his gorgeous eyes for a moment as a jolt of heat flashes through her, making every inch of her skin tingle and burn. She reaches a hand out to steady herself against the wall. “Oh, I know. I am horrified to see Liam again.”

“Liam? Why?” He pivots to face her, and she laughs at his jealous expression. “Where the hell is your bodyguard.”

“Relax, Xaden,” She says, her tone surprisingly light for the blinding desire that shackles her entire body. “He's with Violet for the night. I have my eyes set on someone else.”

“And who might that be?” He says, trying to be nonchalant as he questions her. His eyes were trained at the sky, but she could see him stealing a glance at her every few moments.

“You.”

A wave of desire, a different desire crashes into her. It’s undeniable, unquenchable, and need nearly taking her down to her knees. Xaden wraps an arm around her, steadying her, but his touch burns a flame brighter than she could have ever dreamed of.

“Why the hell aren’t you shielding?”

“Not all of us have been given lessons! Professor Carr refuses to even teach me how to shield because he believes that if I have full, undeniable access to his power I’ll be a better weapon.” She explains, her words gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Always thought that man was psycho.” He sighs. “All right. Crash course. Only because I’ve been where you are and woken up with a few regrets.”

“You’re actually going to help me?”

“I’ve been helping you for months.” His hand flexes at her waist, and she can swear she can feel the warmth of his touch through her cloak and night clothes.

“No, you’ve been kissing me and confusing me for months. And then you sent Liam to help. He’s been helping me for months.” Her forehead puckers. “Weeks. almost months. Whatever.”

Genevieve rolls her eyes at the fact that Xaden has the nerve to look offended.

“I’m the one who burst through your door and killed everyone who attacked you, and then I removed every other threat in your life with multiple other very public, very polarizing displays of vengeance. Liam didn’t do that. I did.”

“You didn’t have to do that, I had it under control. If I’m correct, I’m the one with the signet that can take the life force out of a human with a touch of my hand.”

He groaned, and made a motion that said ‘seriously,’ causing her to roll her eyes.

“Fine. But let’s not pretend that you didn’t do most of that protecting for yourself. It would be inconvenient for you if I died.” She shrugs, blatantly poking at him to help ignore the rising tide of lust thundering against her head.

He stares at her with disbelief. “You know what? We’re not fighting tonight. Not if you want to learn how to shield.”

“Fine, we’re not fighting. Teach me.”

She tilts her head upwards to meet his. Gods, she barely reaches above his shoulders.

“Ask me nicely,” He leans closer.

“Have you always been this tall?” She blurts the first thing that comes to her mind.

“No. I was a child at some point.” She rolls her eyes.

“Ask me nicely, Gen,” he whispers, his breaths grazing her ears. “Or I’m gone.”

She can feel Tairn at the edge of her mind, his emotions ebbing and flowering, and she knows the next wave is going to hit hard. How fucking long are those two dragons going to take. “How often is it like this with them?”

“Often enough that you’re going to need proper shields. You won’t ever be able to block them out completely, and sometimes they forget to block us, like tonight. That’s why the Churam helps, but at least it’s like walking by a brothel instead of actively participating in one.”

Well shit.

“Right then. All right. Will you teach me how to shield?”

A smile curves his mouth, and her gaze drops to his lips. Kiss me.

“Say please.”

“Are you always this difficult?”

“Yes. What can I say, I like watching you squirm. It’s like sweet payback for what you’ve put me through these last couple of months.” He brushes snow off of her hair, as if he knows he’s torturing her.

“What I’ve put you through.” Unbelievable.

“You’ve scared me nearly to death once or twice, so I think saying please is a fair request.”

Genevieve is simmering with annoyance and need, her mind reeling with the fact that he’s never played fair for a day in his life. She takes a deep breath, and swats at a that lands on her nose.

“As you prefer. Xaden?” She smiles sweetly, her face innocent but her eyes seductive. “Would you pretty, pretty please teach me how to shield before I ‘accidentally’ climb you like a tree and we both wake up with regrets.”

A flash of something crosses his face, before he smiles again, and she feels it like a caress.

“I’m fully in control of myself.”

Dangerous. This is so damned dangerous. Heat is everywhere, flushing her skin to the point where she debates tossing her cloak off and rolling in the snow to get the tiniest bit of relief. Notably, Xaden isn’t wearing one.

“But since you asked so nicely,” he adjusts his stance and brings both of his hands to her face, cradling her head the way he did when she was so close to burnout that she almost died, before sliding them back to hold her head. “Close your eyes.”

“It requires you touching me?” Her eyes flutter shut at the now familiar sensation of his skin against hers.

“Not at all. Just one of the perks of not thinking too clearly. You have soft skin.”

The compliment draws a breath from her lungs. So much for control.

“You need to envision somewhere safe. I prefer the top of my favorite hillside near what’s left of Aretia. Wherever it is, it needs to feel like home.”

The only place she can think of is the library adjoined to her mother’s room in her grandmother’s manor. The smell of old books and her mothers perfume is still clear in her mind as she envisioned herself in the plush red armchair in the window, watching the rain pour down onto the fields of wildflowers.

“Feel your feet hit the ground and dig in some.”

Her feet hit the warm carpet by the crackling fire, she can feel the worn threads. “Got it.”

“That’s called grounding, keeping your mental self somewhere so you aren’t swept away by the power. Now call to your power. Open your senses.”

Her palms begin to tingle, and a flood of energy surrounds her, just as saturating as it was when it manifested, but without the pain. It’s everywhere, filling the library and pushing at the walls, books fall from the shelves and the wood threatens to crack. “Too much.”

“Focus on your feet. Stay grounded. Can you see where the power flows from?”

She nods, her eyes traveling to the open door. The one that led to the hallway that went right to her old bedroom. Golden light wrapped with dark vines floods in from the doorway.

“I see it.”

“Perfect. You’re a natural. It takes most people a week to learn how to ground. Now, do whatever you need to mentally do to wall yourself off from that current. Tairn is the source. Block the power and you get some control back.”

The door. She just needs to close the door and lock it shut.

Desire makes her heart pound, and she grabs onto his arms, anchoring herself in reality.

“You’ve got this.” His voice sounds strained. “Whatever you create in your mind is real to you. Shut off the valve. Build a wall. Whatever makes sense.”

“It’s a door.” Her fingers dig into the soft material of his tunic, and mentally, she pulls at the door, trying to get it to shut one inch at a time.

“There you go. Keep going.”

Her physical body trembles at the effort it takes to mentally shove the door shut, but she gets it there, the warm light leaving the room, leaving her illuminated by the fire. “I’ve got the door shut.”

“Great. Lock it.”

She spins the nob, hearing the soft and familiar click of the lock shifting into place. The relief is immediate, a cool blast of snow against her feverish skin. Power pulses, and it’s as if she can see through the door.

“The door is see-through now.” She comments, desperation still in her words.

“Yeah. You’ll never be able to get him fully blocked out. Got it locked?”

She nods.

“Open your eyes, but do your best to keep that door locked. Keep one foot grounded. If it slips, we just start again.”

She opens her eyes, keeping the mental picture of the library door shut. While her body is still flushed with warmth, that inescapable, driving need is… somewhat muted. “He’s…” she can’t find the words.

Xaden studies her with an intensity that makes her sway toward him. “You are astonishing.” she shakes his head. “I couldn’t do that for weeks.”

“Guess I have a superior teacher.” She’s overjoyed. She’s not just good, she’s astonishing. Astonishing to Xaden.

His thumbs stroke over the soft skin under her ears, and his gaze drops to her mouth.

“Would it be a bad idea to kiss you again?” He whispers, his words falling on deaf ears.

Genevieve's breath hitches as she stares at his lips, heart pounding in time with the slow rhythm of his thumbs tracing her skin.

“Probably catastrophic,” she whispers back, not moving an inch away from him. But despite the caution in her words, her body betrays her, inching closer, drawn to him like a magnet. The air between them crackles with a tension so thick she feels like she’s suffocating under the weight of it.

Xaden’s hands tighten ever so slightly, his breath warm against her skin as he leans closer, his lips ghosting just above hers.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, his voice rough, low, a dangerous edge to it that makes her blood heat all over again.

Genevieve can’t think straight. The grounding she just mastered feels like it’s slipping already. The door she locked—she swears she hears it rattle in her mind, Tairn’s presence still there, but distant, almost irrelevant compared to the man holding her now.

“I—” She’s not even sure what she’s about to say because all she can focus on is Xaden, the way his eyes have darkened, the tension vibrating in every inch of his body.

Then, against all better judgment, she whispers, “Don’t stop.”

That’s all it takes.

Xaden’s mouth crashes onto hers, and all the restraint she had thought she had disappears. The kiss is fire and desperation, an apology for the wrong words and mistrust between them. It burned through her veins and seared away at whatever rational thoughts remained. Her hands tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as if he’s the only thing grounding her now.

His grip on her waist tightens, pulling her flush against him, and a groan escapes his throat—a sound that sends a new wave of desire ripping through her. It’s like nothing else matters at this moment but him. Xaden, who’s always been there, infuriating and protective, impossible and undeniable.

Genevieve’s pulse quickened as Xaden deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a ferocity that matched the storm raging in her mind. Tairn and Sgaeyl’s connection still hummed in the background, a faint reminder of what started this, but all of it—every chaotic, wild emotion—paled in comparison to what she felt with Xaden.

His hands slid down her waist, settling firmly at her hips as if anchoring her to reality. Every place his fingers touched sent sparks of heat across her skin, and she wasn’t sure if it was his power or hers igniting the fire between them. She’d never felt anything like this—like she was completely untethered, yet more grounded than she’d ever been in her life.

She broke away just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against his. Her heart was racing, her entire body buzzing with the aftermath of their kiss. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath warm on her cheek, but his hands never left her, still holding her as if he wasn’t ready to let her go.

“Gods, Xaden,” she whispered, barely able to speak through the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her chest. “What are we doing?”

He chuckled, a low, rough sound that made her shiver. “Whatever this is, it’s too late to stop now.”

She knew he was right. There was no going back from this. the tension that had built between them over months, through heated agreements, stolen glances, every word unspoken and spoken, had finally snapped. And now, there was no more pretending, no more hiding from the truth of what they were to each other.

Genevieve closed her eyes, trying to steady herself, her own energy mixing with Xaden's, causing her knees to buckle. He caught her, pulling her closer.

“My room, now,” she whispered, her voice soft.

Xaden hesitated for just a second, his eyes searching hers as if waiting for her to change her mind. But she didn’t. The need was unbearable, the tether between them pulsing like a live wire, impossible to ignore.

His grip tightened on her waist, and with a sharp nod, he pulled her along, guiding her back up the narrow stairs she’d descended in a frenzy not too long before. Genevieve’s legs were unsteady, but she didn’t care. The air between them felt electric, and every inch of her body vibrated in anticipation.

They reached her door, and she fumbled for the handle, trying to force it open with trembling hands. Xaden brushed her aside, opening it with a swift motion, and before she could even register the movement, she was pressed against the inside of the door, Xaden’s lips on hers again.

“See,” he said in between kisses, this one slower but no less intense. It was as if they had all the time in the world, despite the frantic pounding of her heart. “The doors unlocked.”

She nodded, his hands sliding up her back, tangling in her hair, and she could feel the rough scrape of his calloused fingers against her scalp. She arched into him, a low moan escaping her as her body melted into his. Gods, how had she resisted this for so long? His lips tasted so good against hers, it was almost intoxicating.

“Genevieve,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough and desperate. “Tell me this isn’t just the dragons.”

“It’s not,” she gasped, pulling him closer, her hands sliding under his shirt, quickly pulling it up and over his head as she felt the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. “This… this is us.”

That seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. In one swift motion, he pulled her away from the door and toward the bed, their bodies still intertwined as if breaking apart would be impossible. She didn’t even care about him seeing the mess of books and clothes scattered across the floor, her focus solely on the feeling of his hands, his lips, his breath against her skin.

Every kiss was fueled by their raw desire, and gods it was so good. Her hands traveled the expanse of his body, mapping every dip and ridge with her calloused and weathered fingertips. He was so attractive, her mind was a fog of any thoughts except her need for him.

They collapsed onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and whispered curses, the weight of their emotions almost too much to bear. Every touch, every kiss felt like it was burning though her, igniting something inside her she hadn’t known was there.

She barely noticed the glow of her signet, the faint shimmer of energy sparking between them, but Xaden did. He pulled back for just a moment, his eyes dark and intense, as if he were trying to understand what was happening.

“You’re glowing,” he said softly, his fingers brushing over the delicate veins of light tracing her skin.

Genevieve blinked, looking down at her hands. Sure enough, the faint glow of her signet was spilling out, wrapping around them like a protective barrier. she should have been concerned, but right now, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when Xaden was looking at her like that, his eyes filled with something more than just desire.

“It’s… it’s fine,” she breathed, reaching up to pull him back down to her. “We’ll figure it out later?”

Xaden’s lips curled into a half-smile as he leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. “Later, huh?”

She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. Later.” And she kissed him again, her mouth traveling down to his jaw and then down his throat, stopping just above his chest, she glanced up at him.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he said, his voice husky but pleading, as if a rejection would shatter him into a million pieces, never to be put back together again.

“This is what I want,” she responded, her voice clear despite the desperation she felt.

And with that, they gave in to the storm that had been brewing between them for far too long, finally letting it break.

His own shirt was on the floor by the door, discarded early on in a flurry of motions Genevieve had gone through between the five steps that took them from the closed and warded door and the bed. Xaden made quick work of Genevieve’s cloak, tossing it onto the floor by the door as well as he pushed her down onto the bed.

In another few ragged breaths, his hands ran over her body, snaking up underneath her shirt, trailing the curve of her waist and up the ridge of her back. He could feel the bumps and ridges of scars littering her back as he touched her. Pulling her shirt up, he tore it off in one fell swoop, and she shudders as her bare skin comes into contact with his.

Her body under his was perfect, she was perfect. Pale skin glowing with a sheen of sweat and white hair tousled against his rough hands, her muscular body, she was in every right a warrior, a machine, perfectly toned for war, but she was so beautiful.

He brushes their lips together before he moves his attention down, kissing her neck with a long trail of desperate nips that draw shallow gasps from the depths of her throat. Her hands splay out of his back, pulling him closer to her as his lips trail lower and lower.

The second they couldn’t go any further, he shred the ragged chest wraps she still insisted on wearing off of her body. His eyes roamed freely, drinking in every dip and valley of her upper body.

Genevieve’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing shallow as the last remnants of restraint dissolved between them. Xaden’s eyes darkened with want as he took in her bare upper body, his gaze trailing down the sharp lines of her collarbone to the small swell of her breasts, freed from the constraints of the wraps she’d worn for so long. Her body was a masterpiece of strength and survival, every scar a testament to battle fought and won, every curve a contradiction of softness amidst the hard muscle beneath.

He traced a hand lightly over the jagged scar that ran from her left shoulder down across her ribs, a reminder of the life she’d led before this moment, before him. The muscles beneath her skin flexed involuntarily, her strength palpable even in her vulnerability. The curve of her breasts—small but firm—fit perfectly into his palms, the heat of her skin searing his touch.

His thumb grazed her nipple, and a gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut, the intensity of the moment written in every shiver that passed through her. He lowered his mouth to her breast, teasing her sensitive skin with slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue. Her back arched beneath him, her hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more, wanting everything.

Her body was a battlefield, marked and worn, but beneath it all, she was alive. Xaden pressed kisses along her chest, her ribs, her stomach, farther down, her breath catching as his hands ran down over her body, trailing the line of teasing kisses he had just left, moving down slowly inching closer and closer to the upper hem of her pants, teasing her.

“Gods, Genevieve,” he rasped, biting at her lower lip. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She moves to shake her head no, to break away from him now that he’s seen her like this, but he holds her head firmly in place with a kiss.

“You’re breathtaking,” he manages to say, his words breathy and desperate.

Her hands grip the rough skin of his back, every touch of his amplified as his calloused hands held the bare skin of her waist firmly in place. Fuck, I want this so bad.

She doesn’t even have a chance to ask, and his hands move lower, trailing the skin of her inner thighs through the loose night trousers she wore. Her back instinctively arches into his touch as his hands press further, harder but gentle with every motion.

“Please,” she pants, her breathing ragged and desperate as he teases her, his hands rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of her upper inner thigh. “Xaden, please-”

Her gasps are like a drug, invigorating Xaden, as Genevieve’s hands moved down his torso to the waist of his pants. Her nimble hands made quick work of his belt.

“Let me please you first,” his words came out husked, his lips coming to hers, biting at her lower lip as he caressed her. “I want to hear you,” he whispered, their lips barely brushing together.

He grabbed at the waist of her pants, messily pulling them down and over her hips and tossing them to the ground. Gods, in his eyes, she’s perfect.

Geneiveve’s breath hitched as Xaden’s gaze roamed over her, dark and hungry. She felt exposed, raw, but the way he looked at her—like she was everything—kept her from retreating into the shame that threatened to consume her as his gaze swept over her. His touch was reverent, his fingers tracing the lines of her body, closer and closer to where her heat coiled in her, his gentleness that contrasted the fire in his eyes.

She trembled as his hands grabbed her thighs, parting them with one strong motion, his fingers brushed the sensitive skin that led to her.

The anticipation was agonizing, her body aching for more, every nerve on high alert. “Xaden,” she pleaded, her voice desperate. “Don’t tease.”

His lips curved into a wicked smile as he kissed his way down her body, his hot breath sending shivers up her spine. “I told you,” he murmured against his skin. “I want to hear you.”

Xaden’s teasing only heightened the electric tension crackling between them, and Genevieve’s heart raced as he lowered his mouth, trailing soft kisses down the valley of her stomach. Each brush of his lips was like a spark against her skin, igniting a fire that spread through her with dizzying intensity. The sensation of his warm breath against her most intimate parts sent a wave of longing coursing through her veins.

“Xaden,” she gasped, the sound barely escaping her throat, a blend of impatience and desire. She could feel the heat poling deep within her, a pressure building that begged for release. But his teasing was relentless, the wicked grin on his face only fueling her hunger.

“Just a moment longer,” he whispered, his voice low and thick with lust as he continued to explore her body, his fingers dancing along her thighs. She could feel her muscles tense and flex beneath his touch, every movement drawing her closer and closer to him.

“Please,” she urged, her voice trembling as she pushed her hips closer, seeking the friction that would relieve the overwhelming ache. His hands were strong, yet gentle, holding her in place, and she felt a mix of desperation and exhilaration coursing through her. Every second stretched into eternity, the world outside fading into nothingness as she focused solely on him and the sensations he was stirring within her.

Xaden lifted his head, his dark eyes locked onto hers, filled with a fierce intensity that made her heart skip. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he said, his voice gravelly. “I need you to let go for me. Show me how much you want this.”

His words, infused with sincerity and raw passion, ignited something deep within her. Geneveive nodded, breathing hard as she surrendered to the moment, allowing her vulnerability to spill into the space between them. “I want you, Xaden,” she breathed, her voice low but filled with conviction.

With that, he descended upon her, his mouth finally connecting with her most sensitive skin, sending shockwaves through her body. A gasp erupted from her lips, her back arching off the bed as he lavished her with attention, his tongue expertly coaxing her further into bliss. Each stroke was a heady mix of ecstasy and relief, pushing her toward the precipice of euphoria.

She could feel herself losing control, her signet pulsing erratically with every surge of pleasure. The glow that had been faint moments before began to intensify, the tendrils of light spreading across her skin, brighter, hotter.

As Xaden continued to worship her body, Genevieve’s senses heightened, the world narrowing to just the two of them. She could feel every pulse of pleasure, of whisper of air against her skin, and the delicious ache of anticipation building within her. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him on as she surrendered to the waves of sensation crashing over her.

“Xaden,” she moaned, her voice thick with pleasure. “I’m so close. Please- don’t stop!”

He looked up at her, his gaze dark and possessive, a smile dancing across his lips. “Let go, Genevieve. Let me hear you.”

With his words echoing in her mind, she felt the dam within her break, pleasure washing over her in overwhelming waves, drowning her in ecstasy. Her cries filled the room, raw and unrestrained, every stroke of his tongue pushed her deeper into the throes of bliss.

“Xaden—” she gasped, her voice strained, a mix of pleasure and panic. “I—I can’t—”

He looked up, his eyes dark and wild, but there was no fear there, no hesitation. “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice a low growl as he kissed his way back up to her lips, his hands taking the spot his tongue had occupied, swallowing her cries as she came undone beneath him. “I’ve got you, Gen.”

The energy burst from her in a wave, the glow of her signet enveloping them both, but Xaden didn’t pull away. He stayed, grounding her, his hands never leaving her skin as she shattered in his arms.

For a moment, the world fell away. There was no war, no pain, no guilt, no fear. There was only Xaden, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, the steady beat of his heart in her ear.

As the glow faded, Genevieve lay still, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. She blinked, her mind slowly clearly as she realized what had happened—what she had done. The power she had been struggling to control had burst out of her again, but this time, it hadn’t destroyed anything. It hadn’t hurt him.

It just looked as if it was spring in her room, vines sprouted from the floorboard, and flowers creeping in from the shattered windows.

She looked up at Xaden, a smile creeping up onto her face. Her eyes glinted with desire and hunger as she looked up at this man who had unraveled her.

“You’re turn,” she purred, wrapping her legs around his waist as she practically climbed onto him, flipping him over on the bed.

Xaden let out a sharp breath as Genevieve flipped him over, the surprise and desire mingling in his darkened gaze. His hands instinctively went to her hips, gripping them with a mix of control and surrender as she straddled him. The way she moved—fluid, confident—ignited something primal inside him, something that made it impossible to think of anything else but her. The way the glow of her power had bloomed around them, it was as if she had become the embodiment of every element of life itself.

Genevieve leaned down, her lips bruising his neck in a slow, deliberate line of kisses down the center line of his abs that sent shivers through his body. His hands tightened on her waist, but he let her take control surrendering to her control completely. Her lips trailed down his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles, her hands following suit, exploring every inch of him as if she had all the time in the world.

“Gods,” he breathed, his voice strained with the weight of his own need. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Genevieve smirked, her eyes gleaming with the same hunger she’d seen in his moments before. “That’s the plan,” she whispered, her voice teasing, but her movements anything but.

Her fingers grazed over the waistband of his pants, and she felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. She didn’t rush—she savored every second, watching the way his body responded to her, the way his breath hitched whenever her fingers brushed just a little too close to where he ached for her.

When she finally stripped him of the last barrier between them, the air seemed to crackle around them again, her signet sparking faintly in the background like a distant storm on the horizon. She took him in, her breath catching at the sight of him laid out beneath her, strong and waiting.

Xaden was raw power incarnate, his body sculpted from years of battle and discipline. Every muscle defined, a testament to his strength and his life he’s led as a rider. His skin was sun-kissed, the golden hue of a man who was far more than tan, and spent more time outdoors than in, marked with the scars from past fights. They trailed over his broad shoulders, across his chest, and down the firm ridges of his abdomen like stories of battles long survived. But despite the evidence of his hard life, there was something undeniably beautiful about him, something that made Genevieve’s breath hitch.

His body radiated heat, and she could feel it as she hovered over him, every inch of him alive with barely restrained energy. His chest rose and fell with labored breaths, his eyes dark and half-lidded as they traced her form above him. The intensity in his gaze was almost too much to bear—wild, hungry, and vulnerable all at once. His dark hair was mussed from where her fingers had been moments ago, his lips slightly parted, still swollen from their rough kisses.

Genevieve’s gaze traveled lower, to where his hardness stood ready for her, and she couldn’t help but admire the sheer size of him. He was thick and powerful, every part of him mirroring the strength she knew resided inside him. It sent a rush of heat through her body, anticipation coiling in her belly. He was beautiful, yes—but there was also something dangerous in how much she wanted him, how much she needed to feel every inch of him inside her.

For a moment, they were suspended in time—her, poised above him, and him, laid bare beneath her. He was hers to take, and gods, she wanted nothing more than to claim completely.

Xaden’s hands moved to her hips, gripping her firmly as his voice broke the silence, rough and strained. “Genevieve,” he rasped, his control fraying at the edges, “take me.”

She didn’t make him wait long. With a fluid motion, she positioned herself above him, her body moving in perfect harmony with the storm raging in her veins. She could feel the tension between them, the heat, the raw desire that had building for what felt like forever.

Xaden’s hands slid up her things, his grip firm as she lowered herself onto him, a gasp escaping her lips at the contact. He was big, but gods, he felt so good. The connection between them was electric, intense, as if they were made for this—made for each other.

The weight of Genevieve’s body over his sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through Xaden. His hands gripped her hips tighter as she began to move, slow at first, teasing him with every deliberate motion. He could feel every inch of her, every flew of her muscle as she took control, and it was dirtying him wild.

He had wanted this for so long, longer than he’d ever admitted, and now that he had her—now that she had him—there was nothing else. Just her. The way she moved, the way her body responded to him, the way she made him feel as if every nerve was on fire.

Genevieve leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around them, her lips finding his again. The kiss was rough, desperate, as if she, too, was fighting to hold onto whatever control she still had. Xaden could feel her trembling, the raw need coursing through her matching his own, and it only fueled his desire. He wanted her to lose herself in him, to let go entirely, to fall apart the way he knew she could.

“Gen,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as she moved faster, her hips bringing down onto him with an intensity that made him see stars. His hands roamed her body, memorizing every inch, every curve, every scare. She was more than he could have ever imagined, more than he deserved, but gods, he would worship her in every way she needed.

Genevieve’s movements became more urgent, each shift of her hips pulling a guttural sound from Xaden’s throat. She could feel him beneath her, every muscle taut, trembling under the strain of holding back. But she didn’t want him to hold back—not anymore. She wanted him to unravel, just like she had, to feel everything she was feeling in that moment.

Her fingers trailed up his arms and to his back, nails grazing his skin lightly as her pace quickened. The room was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths, the creak of the bed beneath them, and the heady rhythm of their bodies moving in perfect sync. Xaden’s hands slid up her back, guiding her classier until their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.

“Gen,” he rasped, his voice a low growl. His grip on her hips tightened, and she could feel the shift in him—the moment when restraint turned into raw, unfiltered need. “I—fuck—I can’t hold on much longer.”

A wicked smile tugged at the corner of her lips, her body moving in sync with his rising desperation. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice breathless but sure. “Let go, Xaden. I want to feel all of you.”

Her words undid him.

With a guttural groan, he shifted beneath her, his hands gripping her waist as he thrust up into her with a force that sent shockwaves through her entire body. Genevieve gasped, her head falling back as the pleasure intensified, her body trembling under the onslaught of sensations. She dug her nails into his shoulders, grounding herself as her world spiraled out of control.

The rhythm between them grew frantic, urgent, as if the world would end if they didn’t find release together. Xaden’s hands never left her body, his touch reverent in the midst of his desperation. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her, ready to snap.

“Gen—” Xaden’s voice was hoarse, his breath coming in ragged gasps, as he thrust into her harder, faster, the intensity building to a breaking point. “I’m—”

“Me too,” she gasped, her body clenching around him as the pleasure became too much to bear. “Xaden, I’m—”

Before she could finish, the wave of ecstasy crashed over her, stealing her breath, her vision, her thoughts. She cried out his name, her body shaking with the force of her release as the world seemed to shatter around her. Xaden followed her over the edge moments later, his body stiffening beneath her as he groaned her name, his release just as powerful, just as overwhelming.

For a long moment, they stayed like that—bodies entwined, chests heaving, the world around them fading into a hazy, blissful silence. Genevieve collapsed onto Xaden’s chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin as she tried to catch her breath. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go.

“Gods, you’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice still rough, but there was a softness to it, an intimacy that hadn’t been there before.

Genevieve smiled against his chest, her own heart still racing. “I think we both are.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers threading through her hair. “You’re glowing again.”

Genevieve lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. She knew he wasn’t just talking about her signet this time.

“So are you.”

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

omg i cannot believe I just posted this, do you know how hard this was to write?? This is actually my first attempt at writing smut and I don't think I'm very good at it (i suck at it), but i know the only way to get better is to practice, so I wrote this chapter and there will be at least another two(?) before the books end.

If you have any feedback, please let me know. What did you all like? what did you hate? What do you want to see next time? I'm desperate to improve in writing smut, as I still find it a little stiff and awkward, so please tell me everything.

Anyways, thats it for this chapter! Genevieve and Xaden had their moment and we'll be back to scheduled programming (Genevieve being reckless and Xaden wanting her to chill out) on wednesday! Leave a heart, like, comment, or just let me know your thoughts! see you all soon~

#violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing xaden #liam mairi #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran #the empyrean #the wounded healer #fourth wing smut #rhiannon matthias

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deedeeznoots · 6 months ago

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Let’s Go to Malaysia, Yeah?

➺ Characters: Nanami Kento, Fem!Reader

➺ Word count: 2.7k

➺ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

➺ Content: It’s smut so MDNI!! Specifically: Slight voyeurism (there’s no people around but you’re both outside), Oral (reader receiving), PiV, Creampie, Use of the word “wife” a lot, angst at the end because I don’t believe in happiness

➺ A/N: I thought about this on a random Thursday night at 1 AM and couldn’t rest until I wrote it into existence.

➺ Synopsis: You and your husband Kento Nanami go on a beach trip in Malaysia and have some fun in more ways than one~

The sound of chirping birds and ocean waves wake you up from your slumber. Still groggy, you instinctively reach for Nanami, but the bed comes out empty. Rubbing your eyes, your vision lands on the open windows, the sun slightly blinding you from the view. Though it would be nearly impossible to miss completely, the bright yellow sand standing in contrast to the deep blue ocean was a sight to see. Turns out, renting a small house by the beach in Malaysia was an amazing idea, something your husband came up with. Speaking of…where was he?

Hearing some commotion from outside the bedroom, you put on your robe and leave to follow the source. There, you find your beautiful husband making breakfast in the kitchen. Shirtless, the morning sun reflects off his back as he cuts up fruit. God he looked good, you thought.

Moving quietly, you swiftly hugged him from behind. He jumps up a little in shock before going “Good morning, darling”.

You giggle at his reaction and simply go “Hi Kento...” and leave small kisses on his back as he continues cutting fruit. Eventually, he drops the knife and turns around, looking you straight in the eyes.

“…yes?” You question jokingly. He doesn’t say anything, only giving you a small kiss on your lips. You had other plans though, and grabbed a hold at the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Nanami groans in response, but doesn’t protest, lifting you up and placing you on top of the counter. As he slowly grinds himself between your legs, you joke “it’s so early…”. Your husband simply laughs and says “it’s never too early for my wife…”. As your tongues continue to intertwine, you begin to remove his pants when—

Ding

The toaster. The sound snaps Nanami out of what he was doing and he begins to remember his original plans for the kitchen. Lifting you up again, this time to help bring you back down to the floor, he tells you “Let’s not waste breakfast” with a laugh.

Somewhat disappointed, you comply anyway as you were a little hungry and Nanami did work hard to prepare it for you two. Sitting on the table, Nanami puts down a plate of toast and syrup with a side of fruit. You weren’t sure if it was because it was made by someone you loved, but it was possibly the most delicious meal you ever had. The bread was perfectly toasted, with the syrup acting in perfect juxtaposition to the crunchy exterior of the toast. The fruit was no joke either, perfectly cut into symmetrical shapes and acting as the perfect side to your meal. God, it was amazing. Your husband was amazing.

“…Baby are you listening?” Nanami’s voice snaps you out of your daydreams. “Huh…?” You ask, staring at him blankly. Shaking your head, you go “Oh… I’m sorry honey haha I was too focused on this amazing breakfast”, your voice slightly muffled from the food in your mouth. Your husband just laughs and goes “I was just asking if you wanted me to bring anything while we go on our walk”.

“Oh! Let’s bring the chairs so we can watch the ocean for a bit” you say, excited. Nanami nods and you two continue making small talk over breakfast regarding your plans for the day, enjoying each other’s presence along with the beach view through the large window in the living room.

“Man, that was a good breakfast! Thank you so much for that… you’re getting really good at making bread by the way” you say as the both of you walk around the beach. “Thank you, anything for my wife” Nanami chuckles, of course. Your husband always told you he’d give you the world, and you believe him. Why wouldn’t you? He shows you every day, and this day was certainly no exception.

The sand is hot against your feet as you and your partner find a place to set your chairs. Looking around, you point to an empty spot close to the ocean “what about there?” you ask. Nanami just nods and takes your hand to walk you both to the spot. You set both your chairs down as Nanami puts up the umbrella for both of you. He also offers to help you put on your sunscreen.

“Sure! Let me just go get it” you respond.

It started out innocent enough. You feel the slight cool of the sunscreen as your husband rubs the cream onto your skin. He started with your arms, being oh so diligent to make sure your skin was fully protected. He started again with your back, once again not missing a single spot. Once he got to your shoulders, however… that was a different story. Something about it felt more…sensual, and both of you felt the change in mood.

While rubbing the sunscreen on your shoulders, Nanami decided to begin kissing your neck. The warm kisses sent a cold shiver down your spine and you jumped up. “H-h-hey! What are you doing?” you ask, shocked. Your dutiful husband simply hums into your neck and continues kissing your most sensitive spots. Once the initial shock smoothed over, you got more into it. Leaning into his soft kisses and letting out soft moans as he continuously abused your neck. Not too much though, you were in public after all.

Well…kind of. See, one of the main draws of picking this specific spot to go to was because of how far it was from the public area. There was likely no people for miles, making it the perfect spot for you and your introverted lover to do all kinds of fun (in lots of different ways, of course). Still, anyone could theoretically walk to this side of the beach with no issue, but why would they? There was clearly nothing to see here.

Except I guess…a man in between his wife’s legs eating her out like she’s his last meal. “K-Kento! We’re in public!” you yelp out in between (now much louder) moans. “Shhh… it’s okay” he shushes, the vibrations of which are felt on your pussy, causing you to moan louder. “N-ngh, God— don’t stop!” you moan out, which simply makes your lover laugh. Pulling away, with only a string of his saliva working to connect the two of you, he goes “Careful honey, we are in public, remember?”. Frustrated, you grab him by his hair and lightly push him back between your legs. You were careful not to actually hurt him, of course, and you thankfully didn’t receive any complaints from him, as he simply goes back to looking up at you while sucking on your clit, at the corner of your eye, you can see the sunscreen, now carelessly tossed to the side.

Right. This started with sunscreen. What happened with that?

Right… after finishing lathering your shoulders he began getting to work on your legs. You were still lightheaded from having his lips on your neck, so you didn’t pay much attention while he continued rubbing the lotion on you. At one point though, he suddenly stopped. Confused, you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he hushes you with a soft kiss. You comply, and are so zoned out that you don’t even notice Nanami beginning to remove the bottom half of the bathing suit you put on. “…May I?” he asks for your permission with his soft voice. Unable to deny him in the state you’re in, you nod. From there, he began kissing down your body. From your shoulders, to your breasts, to your stomach until finally, he made it there.

Which leads you back to the predicament you’re in now: where you’re a moaning mess as your husband makes out with your pussy. Like always, Nanami is diligent. Making sure to catch all your sweet spots and to pay extra mind to your clit. He worked slowly, but don’t worry, he was definitely getting the job done. “P-p-please…I’m close, I’m so close please Kento please”, you spit out through incoherent moans. Nanami doesn’t say anything, he simply flattens his tongue against your clit as your orgasm continues to build up. When you finally get there after a few seconds of riding Nanami’s tongue, you’re only able to see white for a while. Breathing heavily, your legs begin to tremble as you zone out, staring wide-eyed into space.

Nanami is seemingly unfazed, however, as he simply pulls your swimsuit back up and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips, allowing you to taste a bit of yourself. He holds your hand tight and says “Let’s rest for a bit and then let’s go swim, ok?” He smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life just a minute before. Slowly snapping back into reality, you kiss your husband’s hand and go “o-ok…”, still out of breath from what just occurred. Nanami let you take your time to cool down, showering you in affirmations of how beautiful you were and how he was sorry but simply couldn’t resist you.

Eventually, you’re able to calm down enough to make your way to the ocean. Your legs still wobbly, you’re the perfect target for splashing. The cold water hitting your skin as your lover cruelly splashes water on you “Kentoooo…stop it! Haha!” You laugh as you splash him back, getting his hair wet. Getting serious for a second, he simply mutters “You’ll pay for that, darling”, before swiftly picking you up and spinning you around. Letting out a goofy scream, you go “Baby wait— you’re gonna drop me! Haha!”. To your surprise, he actually does drop you in the water. You were fine with this, as this gave you leverage to grab onto his leg and pull him down with you. Letting out a yelp, he lets out a hearty laugh as he falls into the water with a splash. “I win! Jerk!” you say in between laughs.

Though, he simply goes quiet and looks deep in your eyes. He lightly grabs your face and gives you a deep kiss. Pulling away, he whispers a soft “I love you”. Flushed, you’re about to say you love him back when you feel another cold splash against your face right and your husband’s laughter “…but you’re so cute when you’re mad!” He exclaims, standing up. “Hey! No fair! We were supposed to have a sweet moment!” You yell out as you climb up his back, forcing him to give you a piggyback ride. One he complies to, of course.

After having your fun, the both of you dry yourselves off outside before going back to your small vacation home. “I’m going to catch up on some reading darling, there’s some books I really need to finish”, Nanami tells you as he starts to enter the room. “Alright, I’m just gonna take a shower and then I’ll join you” you respond. He nods as he closes the door behind him. You had other plans, of course.

You were going to join him.

Though…it wasn’t going to be for reading. You still had to pay him back for his stunt at the beach, after all…

After your short shower, you enter the shared bedroom of you and Nanami. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that you were wearing nothing but a towel.

“Darling…” your husband looks up, taking off his glasses. “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” He asks, but you could feel it in his voice, he was getting riled up. You got him right where you wanted him.

“Hmmm…I don’t know darling,” you say, teasing him “I think I like things exactly like this”, as you finish your sentence, you drop your towel, showing off your naked body to Nanami. You climb on top of him and sit on his lap. He was hard. Why wouldn’t he be? His gorgeous wife was sitting naked on top of him. He simply smiled as you brought your face closer to his, your lips nearly touching. “While I appreciate the sentiment darling…” Nanami grabs your wrists as he flips you over on the bed “…it seems you forgot who’s in charge here”. He now stood on top of you, his large frame hovering above you as he brought himself closer to kiss you. Finally, your lips touch and the both of you get to work removing all of Nanami’s pesky clothes. You were thankfully already taken care of, so things were much easier.

Finally fully naked, Nanami lines himself up against you “I’m sorry baby…” he starts, “I know we usually do foreplay first but I need to be inside of you right now”. His dick is in perfect alignment with your pussy, where even through the smallest movement by you, you could have him inside. You’re just as desperate for him as he is for you, so you just nod and go “it’s okay… I’m already wet enough for you, see?” you say as you dip your fingers into your pussy before pulling out, showing Nanami proof of your arousal. He simply exhales a sigh of relief as he begins to enter you. Starting slowly, as to not hurt you, he starts with shallow thrusts until he’s all the way in.

Finally inside, he picks up the pace, looking you in the eyes the whole time. “God— you’re gorgeous you know?” he says in between thrusts, though you’re too fucked out on his cock to be able to pay much attention. You simply moan as you’re forced to take his dick over and over again. This makes him stop, and he looks at you. Before you can ask him why, he goes “Say it, darling”. “Say wha—“ you are cut off, “Say you’re gorgeous”.

“That—that’s so embarrassing Kento…” you reply. It did make you feel a bit shy to say affirmations with a dick inside of you, but Nanami didn’t budge, he simply kept looking at you until you said the words. “Okay…I’m gorgeous, the only one for you” you smile, it did feel good to say, but Nanami’s thick cock thrusting in and out of you right after you said it probably helped in that regard.

You began to feel the pit in your stomach grow, and you knew exactly what it meant “K…Kento… I’m gonna cum…” you moan out. Nanami softly kisses your wrists in response and says “yeah…me too darling, let’s finish together, yeah?”.

You both do just that, moans and grunts filling the room as you both reach your high. “I love you baby… I love you so much” Nanami moans out as he kisses you through your orgasms.

After you’ve both calmed down, Nanami pulls out and lays next to you. “Come here, darling~” he coos, pulling you towards him for cuddles. “I meant it you know, when I said you were gorgeous…you should say it to yourself more often” he whispers in your ear. You simply smile and give him a kiss on the cheek “Yeah…I’ll make sure to try. I love you baby…” your eyes meet his, and it’s almost like you can see the whole world through only his eyes. He gives you a deep kiss and as he caresses you to sleep he goes “I love you too, my beautiful wife”.

You groggily wake up to the walls of your room, a very different sight to the vacation home you were just in. It’s dark, with no windows open, and if you opened them, you likely wouldn’t be greeted to the soft waves of the ocean. What just happened? You think. Was I dreaming?

You instinctively reach for your husband’s side of the bed. It’s empty, of course. Still groggy and with possibly the worst headache of your life, you get up and make your way to the kitchen.

You make your own breakfast. A sad combination of stale cereal and milk.

It’s the reality of course, but one you’re still unable to accept. In this reality, there is no beach view, there is no cold ocean to splash in, there are no birds to wake you up, and most importantly there is no Nanami.

What is there though…are two tickets to Malaysia. Looking at them, the dates stand there bold, almost as if to mock you… spelling out the day you’ll forever hate the most.

NOV. 1ST, 2018

Yeah…that’s right.

You two were never able to make it to that trip, were you?

A/N: Like Nanami? He’s also mentioned in this fic!

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vinestaffery · 6 months ago

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On pleasing demand, I am here once more to deliver more angst. Since I love it so much and so does everyone else. some bits are written from medkit's and broker's point of view at the start, but it will slowly shift to yours!! enjoy!!!

cw/tw: character death, signs of potential abuse/neglect(?), mentions of injury from another proceed with caution and care!

Scythe wasn't taking anything okay anymore, and she's gotten rougher around Medkit and Broker.

Broker would struggle handling her tempers at points where he didn't know what to do.

Medkit suggested taking a break for Scythe.

Good grief. It was a bad take and ended up bad for Medkit.

Thrown out because he suggested it, it ended up with him now staying with Sword more than with the other three.

Broker ended up leaving himself and staying with Zuka for a bit before finding a proper area to take shelter in.

Scythe was becoming more... explosive, dangerous

She was taken out of the gang! Matches a few times because she had nearly harmed Boombox to the point of recognition.

"I'm too tired to fight anymore,"

"Broker."

"We can't do anything to help her, look at her!"

"You wouldn't understand how it's like to have someone walk out on you,"

"But it just… I just can't handle it. She's gotten more worse and we are sitting here and watching."

Broker and Medkit would have long talks with eachother at nights

Their worried, really worried

Your not there anymore to help support Scythe anymore

So what's the point?

You were the light in her world, and you walked out on it.

When Vine Staff told you about the serious injury she had gotten from Scythe

You panicked.

Was she actively looking for you?

Was she trying to harm people you loved and cherished?

Vine Staff reassured you it was nothing like that at all

Infact, it was because she was upset that you had disappeared

"Dearie, you know how much Scythe appreciates you, maybe you should try approach her this time?"

You were surprised!! To see her again?

"Are you joking?"

"[…]…"

"There is barely a person in her anymore, Vine Staff."

You were deny any chances of seeing her again, but it wasn't too long till Medkit was invited over.

God was he relieved to see you

It ended up being more of a nicer talk with him rather than a forceful one

Turns out he found it understanding and that it was okay for you to leave for your own sake

But leaving out of nowhere was a no-go, specifically for Scythe

"It wasn't suppose to go this far."

"You know how she is, especially with news such as that,"

When Vine Staff had come home that one day, with a large wound, you really wished it didn't go this far to hurting a companion

"I'm too tired of this,"

"So am I, just like how I am with Subspace's worthless attempts at capturing me and taking out 'revenge,' but we can't have everything we want."

His blunt attitude always felt like home.

"She can't keep doing this, she just can't."

"Then come home, and then maybe this all can end."

You took that hope, even though you were at your wits end.

The rough sound of sizzling coming from the home was pushed over with clashing. The tension in the air was palpable as you made your way back to the source of the conflict.

The smell of burnt food wafted through the air, adding to the chaos of the situation. You knew you had to intervene before things escalated further. As you entered the kitchen, you saw the source of the conflict - a pot left unattended on the stove, billowing smoke.

"Scythe?" You called out, hoping to get their attention before the situation got any worse. The sound of footsteps approaching indicated that they had heard you, giving you a sense of relief that the situation might be resolved before any real damage was done.

"What." Scythe turned to face you, their expression a mix of annoyance and surprise. "I just got distracted; I didn't mean for this to happen," they explained, gesturing towards the smoking pot. You could see the tension in their shoulders ease as you reassured them that everything was under control.

It had looked like she had completely forgotten who you were; did she not find your presence familiar? The sound of her tail-shaker sensed an obvious threat and danger towards you. She spat with venom in her words. Her hostility grew ever more.

"Scythe, it's me," you muttered. But she continued to glare at you, suspicion evident in her eyes. It was clear that something had changed in her demeanor towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.

"What do you want? I thought you wanted to never see me again." Her words cut deep, leaving you feeling bewildered and hurt. The distance between you seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. You looked away in disdain.

"What? You just going to stand 'der like a lost puppy?" There was nothing familiar about this Scythe at all. She was cold—not the kind-hearted woman you used to know before. You realized that the warmth and familiarity you once shared with her had vanished. She was replaced by a sense of hostility and indifference. It was a painful realization that left you feeling lost and alone in her presence. "Scythe? What happened to you?" Your words were hard for her to comprehend. Scythe's eyes hardened, a flicker of recognition passing through them before being replaced by a steely resolve. "I've changed," She said it simply, her voice devoid of emotion. It was clear that the person you once knew was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable and distant.

"I've changed, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore. Broker left; Medkit left. Everyone left." She placed a cold cup of alcohol down. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words to reach the person who seemed like a stranger now. But as you looked into her eyes, you realized that this was a battle she was fighting alone, and all you could do was stand by and watch.

You sat next to her on the dusty bar stool. Feeling helpless, you silently offered your support, knowing that sometimes all someone needs is a listening ear. The silence between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together. "We've both changed."

"I harmed you; I broke your promise, Angel Eyes. I broke everything." Her tone spoke of long, restless nights. "We can't change the past, but we can move forward together," you whispered softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm here for you now." The weight of her burdens seemed to lift slightly as she squeezed your hand in return, a glimmer of hope shining in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ya, promise? Angel Eyes?" Scythe gleamed.

"Promise, Scythe. I'll never leave your side," you vowed, feeling a sense of peace settle between you both. The bond of trust and understanding between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together.

But that was only nights ago. Scythe stared at her bloodied blade as she let out somber tears. The weight of her burdens seemed to return, heavier than before; she had killed you. All because you had decided to protect the flower demon that you considered family. Something she wished you considered her.

"Angel Eyes, oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my angel eyes." Scythe's voice trembled as she whispered your name, regret and sorrow evident in her every word. The bond you once shared is now shattered, leaving only heartache and a painful realization of irreversible consequences.

RUNS AWAAYYYY

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clockmax · 1 year ago

Text

- A TWISTED FANTASY

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Navi!Reader

A/N: FINALLY AT A REST STOP WITH GOOD WIFI!! Going to Nevada for pretty much the entire summer and this road trip is literally killing me. rip to luna who had to wait so long for this (ily bb)

warnings: hate fucking, oral (M receiving) p in v, degrading and slight praise, dubcon, brief fingering, orgasm denial/edging, spanking, hate fucking, semi-public, marking, i think thats all.

REQUESTS OPEN

There were no words that could describe the situation between you and Jake. Absolutely none.

It wasn’t just generally disliking each other; this was a different type of issue. You absolutely hated how that man was. Arrogant, selfish, how reckless he could be. But damn, this man was so fucking hot. You hated him, no, you despised him. Though there was no denying some of his actions could have you on the flipside.

But nevermind that, he could never have you. There was just no way you’d give yourself to a man like him. Your mind and body could hate him, but there was no denying how god damn attractive he was.

Every moment with him felt like hell. The way you both had to hold back your venom so as to not fight each other. The way you would huff and puff all because you were practically forced to spend time with him.

It was a blazing hell. You hated this man, and he hated you. But oh how he would get you worked up with all his teasing just to leave you alone, soaked in your pants. Jake was a cruel man, all because you two had some stupid childlike feud.

There was actually no beginning to why you both started hating each other, it just happened. When your parents let him into the clan, it just so happened that you both started disliking each other. Every time you were in a room with Jake, the tension in the air made it so thick it felt hard to breathe. Like you were going to suffocate on just the hatred alone.

And now here you were, in the forest, alone. Just you and your thoughts.

The festival was too loud for you. But the cherry on top of that was how Jake kept looking at you the entire night. The way you constantly batted heads, even when you were not speaking was just aggravating.

The walk was peaceful, you were finally able to get some alone time. Some time to enjoy the true beauty of Pandora. It was calming in some sense, but your tension was still high.

A faint sound of a stick cracking far behind put you on alert, drawing your knife, tail swishing violently in the air. Your beards perked up, twitching at every little sound. Eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the cracking.

After what felt like an eternity, you were finally able to make out the figure approaching you.

Oh eywa.. Why him?

Of course it had to be Jake Sully coming to interrupt your peace.

“Woah there princess, put the knife down, I’m not here to hurt you, yeah?” Jake’s tone was almost mocking, condescending even.

You roll your eyes, dropping your knife, body still on high alert.

“Keep this up and I might hurt you.” You nearly spat back, tail swishing as your eyes met his.

There was a certain fire in his eyes, something with hatred that almost burned into lust. The way he looked at you, ready to fight with you again.

“Someone’s got an attitude today,” Jake just kept mocking you, pushing your buttons, “How about we fix that, can’t have you going back to hometree spitting at everyone you see.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You turned away, walking deeper into the forest when you were pulled back, hands gripping at your waist.

“You heard what I said. Can’t let you back to hometree with an attitude.” His breath was hot against your ear.

Your whole body froze, his lips tracing behind your ear, hands gripping at the curve of your hips, breath landing on the nape of your neck.

You wanted to get out of this situation badly, but eywa, having him this close did something to you. No matter how many times your head cursed him at this moment, the arousal growing in your womb was something you couldn’t hold back.

“You.. son of a bitch-” You mumble, taking in a sharp breath of air.

“Yeah, yeah. Hate me all you want, kid, your body says different.”

One of Jake's hands found its way past your loincloth, dipping past the fabric to your cunt. His other hand held onto one of your breasts, gently squeezing it, rolling your nipple in between two fingers.

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, especially with the man you hate. But god, it felt so good. It was twisted, really.

His fingers found their way to your sensitive bud of nerves, working it between his fingers pads. The sensation sent a shiver through your spine, a small gasp escaping your mouth. Your knees buckled a little, upper body almost folding in half already.

This was some kind of game now, seeing whoever could crumble first. Moving your hips, bumping your butt against Jake's bulge. He let out a low and quiet growl, his head moving back a little.

“Jesus, kid. Yea, you feel what you do to me now?” *His voice was low, fingers working at your clit as his other digits rubbed between your folds.

It was a game of teasing, a game to see who could break first. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good, but you couldn't help it. He was just touching in all the right places.

Low mewls and gasps escaped your lips no matter how hard you tried to hold them in. You were biting your lip so hard that it was surprising that you weren’t drawing blood.

His fingers left your clit, quickly replaced by his thumb. Two fingers prodded at your entrance before slipping inside, sending ripples of pleasure through you, fingers finding themselves cozy in your velvety walls.

You arousal coated his fingers with ease, making a mess of your loincloth and his hands. It felt so wrong yet so right. You could not figure if you wanted to enjoy this, or hate it simply because it was from Jake.

His lips kept at your neck, planting kisses, bites, whatever he could to almost mark you as his. You were his to hate but his to fuck. Almost like he was going to make you a stress reliever, something he could use to fuck his anger out.

You could feel the pleasure build up in your womb, stomach coiling into knots. It felt so good, just until his fingers pulled away, the pleasure almost being ripped from you.

Jake looked at you, almost letting out a small chuckle at how pitiful you looked. Your orgasm being ripped away from you had let you whine, thighs rubbing together.

“Knees, now.” Jake commanded, leaving no room for you to argue.

He gave your thighs a slap. You rolled your eyes, plating yourself on the forest floor. He looked at you, a silent command, almost telling you what to do.

Your fingers found the knot of his loincloth, fumbling with it. You were getting frustrated, Jake looking down and watching you in amusement.

“What's the problem down there, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with mockery and venom, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Shut up.” You hissed back, fingers struggling to undo the tight knot.

Jake's fingers replaced your own, undoing the knot and tossing his loincloth to the side. His cock was practically rock hard already, beads of precum falling down his length.

With reluctance, you let him push past your lips, down that pretty throat of yours. His hips rutted into you with some sort of urgency, but also anger and a desire.

His cock reached so far down your throat, squeezing around him as you slightly gagged. The sounds were just extra stimulation for Jake, his mind already in a frenzy. Small tears falling down your cheek as he pushed past your throat.

Jake looks at you, all pretty on your knees as that anger burns in your eyes, before he says, “Now thank me.”

You go frigid, looking at him with an intensity behind those eyes of yours. He wanted you to do what? Why would you ever thank him?

“Fucking thank me for letting you swallow all my cum like a good girl."

There’s a dark edge in his voice, low grunts coming from his chest as his pace quickened, cock twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck that’s a good girl.” Jake mentioned in between grunts and low moans,

“Thank you-” You manage to choke out, the tip of his cock bruising the back of your throat.

As soon as you say the words, hot ropes of cum are spurting from his dick, coating the inside of your mouth white. His thrusts coming to a halt as he lets out a moan, cock twitching in your mouth.

The noises coming from him sent a heat down to your core, clenching your thighs. There was still no way you were getting turned on by him, but you couldn't help but want his cock inside of you.

“Swallow.” He pulled his length out of your mouth, looking down at you. Jake's voice was laced with a certain dark edge to it.

Jake crouches down to your level, palm of his hand holding your chin as his two fingers squish your cheeks, preventing you from spitting.

And you do, with no other choice at the moment. The way he looks at you like you’re inferior to him makes you feel so small right now. His cum slides down your throat, almost washing away the hateful words you want to curse him with.

You looked at him with a fiery intensity. Half tempted to slap that cocky smile off his handsome face. Damn him for being so arrogant, for getting you in this situation.

Your hands went to his shoulder, pushing him on his back. Jake didn’t make any attempt to stop you, he just looked at you with a cocky grin. Oh how badly you wanted to prove him wrong.

Moving yourself on top, tossing your loincloth, legs straddling the side of his hips. Your hands found their way to his cock, aligning it with your entrance, sliding down.

Well, fuck.

You did not calculate his size. Fuck, it felt like he was splitting you in two. Throwing your head back, letting out a moan. There was a pain from the stretch, hands on his abs to stabilize yourself.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take it? Thought a slut like you would be able to.” His hands held your waist, pulling you deeper on him until he was all inside, letting out a groan.

You didn’t even think it was possible to take his size, legs shaking as your cunt adjusted. The pain mixed in with the pleasure, creating an overwhelming feeling that sent sparks all over your body. His tip was prodding at your cervix, his cock stretching you more than you could stretch yourself.

“Atta girl, see? You could do it, just needed a little push.” The more Jake spoke, the more you wanted to slap him.

“Be quiet, so fucking cocky..” You mumbled, moving your hips up and down. Your mind was practically telling you to stop, that he was your enemy, you weren’t supposed to end up fucking.

It’s not like you could stop anyways. As much as you hated Jake, as much as your rivalry ran deep, he just felt too good to stop.

Jake leaned back, watching the way your hips desperately moved, watching the way you slide up and down with some sort of urgency that was mixed with lust.

“Yea, can’t be calling me stupid now when you’re bouncing all up on my cock like a whore.”

His gaze was fixed on your face, watching how your face contorted with pleasure, your plump lips opening to let out moans.

It was a sight to see, and a sight he was going to keep in his memory.

Jake’s hands held your hips in place, stopping your movement. One of his hands went to your hair, pulling you down onto his chest. Bringing his hips back, he thrusted into you with a force that you swore knocked the wind out of you.

His pace was rough and ruthless, fucking you dumb. All you could do was mewl and moan on his cock. You couldn’t even formulate a full sentence anymore, your body too lost in the euphoria.

Then came back that familiar feeling again, ropes knotting in your stomach, coiling tight on each other.

“Fuck- ‘s too much.. Jake-” You can’t help but let his name slip past your lips, your orgasm building up with such an intense and quick force, overwhelming your senses.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Gonna come for me?” Jake let out a low chuckle, hand finding its way to your bottom, holding one of your asscheeks before giving it a spank.

The sensation and burn of it sent you overboard, coming around his cock as he drilled into you. Your lips fell open with a moan as your body shook, waves of pleasure crashing down on you in intense waves.

After a few more thrusts on Jakes end, he was spilling inside you. A low grunt coming to the surface as he held you in place, face burying into the crook of your neck.

For a few moments, you both laid there, just trying to process everything. You slid off him, finding your loincloth and adjusting it back on. You tossed Jake his loincloth, not even looking him in the eye.

You probably couldn’t even look yourself in the eyes after that. How tense things were going to be with the next following days.

You just got yourself into a mess that had only 2 endings.

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#jake sully #jake sully smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #miles quartich #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #tonowari #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 10 months ago

Text

always a god never human II satoru gojo

tags: post shibuya au, alt au where satoru is cursed to be blind, fluff, argument, angst, regret

word count: 4.5k

note: I wanted to write something that could encapsulate what being human is for satoru in the best worst case scenario. some of you might love this as I do, and thank you for your support. also, I made a reference to odysseus and the cyclops so I think I got it right (I haven't read the odyssey in nearly 10 years). also forgive me and please correct me if I got the kikufuku part wrong. will make a part two if this comes out well (I already have it drafted).

satoru gojo had been exposed to curses for as long as he could remember. first, as a boy, then as a student in jujutsu tech, and finally as a friend and instructor to those around him; but he had never been directly cursed.

not until now.

"you may remain as the strongest, satoru gojo, but your strength will be the only thing to hold you. no one but yourself will disinter it, so don't waste your time searching for something already set as destined." he recalled.

"love will be your salvation yet damnation, for you will cry for your shortcomings and failures. no one but you will carry this burden. let it remind you of this day, of the battle in which you never, truly won."

he always wakes up in a cold sweat afterwards. with the erratic beating of his heart and the tears running down his cheeks, satoru clings to himself, pressing a hand to his heart so as to remind himself of his current position. the back of his throat feels rough like sandpaper, and he licks his lips before reaching for the glass of water he's reserved for nights like these.

he drinks nearly all of it, his heart heavy before his fingers fish for his phone by his bedside.

"hey siri," he speaks, voice hoarse, "what time is it?"

"it's 3:24am."

with an exhaled huff, he puts his phone to the side, making note to remember where it is in the morning. as he lays his head down and focuses on the feeling of blood rushing to his fingertips, arms laid out side by side and fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs.

tomorrow will be better, he tells himself, but it has to change, whispers the other.

"now listen, don't give me that look, it's serious!" your frown causes utahime, your longtime friend of 4 years to shake her hands out to grab your attention, causing you to stifle a smile from your face as you hide your lips behind your cup of tea. "I have a job proposal for you, from a friend. and I think you'd like the pay."

utahime had always been sensible on the topic of money. knowing your constant struggles as a college student and now graduate, seeking to find new sources of income to keep up with bills and student loans, the sorceress felt compassion for you, a friend of hers who has grounded and guided her through frustration after frustration; work and romance related. she's never had the luxury of normalcy to a life like yours, she knows, so doing this was in her best interest for your benefit.

she tells you she has a friend who has decided to take up reading. problem is, he's blind.

"he's not a child, though he acts like it sometimes, but he's not some prune old man either. he's around your age so I'm sure talking to him along with your patience won't be an issue."

besides the generous pay for your time, 6 hours a week for $500 as a starting salary, there was something about this arrangement that left you with a good feeling in your heart. and it wasn't because your client was blind, no. it was the sheer opportunity for growth, in doing something you loved and doing something someone wanted to partake in. so on the day of your arrival you dress your best, hair neatly combed with a pearl diadem and academia as your outfit inspiration for the occasion. "he lives in a secluded home," you recall utahime's words, "up on a hill, or cliff. I don't know. it's always cloudy over there," and you can make out the home on the hill. it's quaint, and you feel thankful for having picked the clothes adequate for the weather.

it surely looked like it was going to rain, so you quicken your pace until you're at the front door, standing still as you swallow the lump at the back of your throat. you were no psychic, but the way your heart churned and palpitated let you know something was about to change your life forever.

"you must be the girl utahime sent, I'm satoru. please step inside," you absentmindedly take in the smile he gives you, taking no answer from you before he opens the door to let you in. he wears a pair of black glasses, contrasting to his snowy hair and porcelain skin. wearing casual loungewear neither of you dare to touch one another in the sense of exchanging a handshake out of respect, or fear. it all feels formal, too formal as if this were a job interview or more.

"it's quite cold outside, isn't it?" after you step inside and change into a pair of slippers that are slightly too big for you, satoru shows you to where you would read to him.

he makes conversation rather well, you find, but there is slight awkwardness in the interactions but not in the way he moves around the house. as he moves up the stairs, he has a hand against the wall as he takes each step with precision, knowing when and where to step. you're fairly quiet, but polite in your conversation with him, until you reach the space he calls his 'study' which is just a room with a large window accompanied by books and belongings.

"you're probably wondering how on earth a blind guy has a clean place, right? well to answer your question, housekeeping."

"I wasn't thinking about that," you answer softly biting the inside of your cheek, "I was just admiring the window."

there's a momentary silence between the two of you. either satoru is surprised by your reply, unrelated to his blindness, or you have struck a sensitive chord, however, his nod makes you think otherwise.

"it is. before I was blind, I'd come here as a teen. house is mine, so even the doors are nice in here." and when he hears you agree, he smiles. "anyways, I'm sure utahime told you the basics about this, yeah?"

"yes."

"great. there's a book on that table to your right. you can start reading that one." as he walks, he takes a seat on a chair across from you. he patiently waits until you sit down again to ask, "before we start, would you like some water?"

"yeah," you breathe, "that'd be great actually."

"there's a few water bottles under the table next to you," he informs, making himself comfortable on the chair, limbs spreading comfortably as you take out a water bottle and glance at the book in your lap.

"this book is about malaysia," you read the title, "is that somewhere you'd like to visit one day?"

"maybe," he says, "it was from a friend of mine."

"did he go to malaysia?"

there's a long silence in between the innocence your question and his answer.

"he did," he answers slowly. "it was always a dream of his to go, so that's why I've kept the book." you don't press him further, instead nodding and suggesting on starting.

when you open the book, you don't miss the elegant cursive writing at the top right of the page.

n. kento

you frequent satoru's home every monday, wednesday, and friday for 3 hours every day. the pay is more than what you expect the first week, $750, but you wonder how this man can easily afford your services.

the bigger question, is how can he live alone in such a home like that? does he ever get hurt? what does he do then?

"yeah, I live here by myself." he answers your question on the third week of your employment. "it's pretty neat though. I don't have to worry about anyone misplacing anything I leave, you know?" his attempt at a joke makes you chuckle and walk up the steps behind him to his study. "are we reading something new today?"

"there's something different I want to try," he tells you, "last night, on the news, I heard there was a feud over some meso-american statue. something to do with jade material being one of the few in existence. I know this is beyond what we agreed, but do you think you can find an article on it?" you nod, affirming his request.

"great!" he smiles, relieved, "my laptop is on the desk. feel free to use it."

you wanted to say that was the last time he asked you for a favor like that, but it was you who fueled his interest. that day, you ended up finding 4 articles, and playing 2 videos about the subject. and as a result, both you and satoru engaged in related conversation until the end of your assigned time.

every few days, satoru would inform you on something (practically asking) and you'd reply by responding, researching the questions he ached to know. it went such way that you were reading him books less and less and more article, media coverage, and conversation.

"did you hear about the experiment trials being conducted by this company called oceangate?" satoru asks, interest laced in his voice, "they're thinking about sending people to view the titanic shipwreck."

and quickly enough, so were you.

"yeah, I also heard about it. I couldn't help but read an article about it. apparently, they've done a few trials, but the company is independent, so I don't know how safe it is or if they have government members involved..."

one of satoru's favorite moments consist of the following.

"did you hear about the crime case that just happened last week? the one with the girl who survived the car accident."

"I did!" you answer eagerly, "I heard her stepdad was the last person to talk to her boyfriend."

"do you think he murdered him?"

"it's tough to say," you bite your bottom lip in contemplation, "I knew he didn't approve of him because he was an aspiring musician, but these texts came out saying he wrote to his brother, 'that man better stay away from my daughter or else I don't know what I'll do',""

"no way."

"and that's not even the worst part," you adjust yourself on your seat, criss cross applesauce. "they found dna remains in his car before his death, hair. right before the car accident. there's speculation they argued before..."

"the accident." satoru nods.

as the weeks progressed, so did your conversations with satoru. the two of you had a knack for being adaptable in your interactions with one another. you could reach a book for an hour, then talk about some recent story or just spend a whole session talking, with the mention of an article or some source always being mentioned.

and satoru burned for that. with every interaction, he found himself looking forward to what else he could bring up, and so did you, even spending time of your own researching things he might be interested in learning about.

things the both of you turned out interested learning about.

"here," satoru could feel the warmth emanate from your body (or his) as you sat next to him, your body scooting closer to his, "hold your hands, yeah, like that," placing a small statue, no bigger than the size of a wine bottle, satoru freezes slightly as you guide his fingers to glide along the edges of the statue.

"my friend managed to get this one out of the archives," you explain, "of course, I just had to bring this to you too. can you sense the material?" the corner of satoru's lips tug upwards in acknowledgement of your excitement. it makes his heart squeeze and pulse in ways that felt familiarly unfamiliar. in a good way, of course. everything you brought in his life was good. whether he could see it or not, you were always so welcoming and sweet.

"is this... legal?" he out of everyone finds himself whispering. as if the authorities could be outside his door. you giggle.

"yes," you smile, "I asked my friend if she could let me borrow this for the day, to take 'pictures'." you chuckle, "obviously that's not what we're doing, is it?" a warmth follows satoru's cheeks as he shakes his head and you smile. "this mesoamerican statue is the same material as the one we read the other week, remember?"

we, satoru's words echo in his head as he nods. "y-yeah. thank you for doing this, you know."

"of course," you smile kindly, "I figured, out of everyone who could be here, I figured you deserve this."

deserve.

"open your hands for me, satoru." your soft voice speaks as you cup his hands, the ocean waves crash from afar. after much convincing, you managed to pull satoru out of his comfort zone. what's the point of going to the ocean if I can't see it? he asks.

well, what's the point of me reading to you and us interacting if you can't see me? you counter. and he realizes you've won.

he can smell the saltwater, can feel the wind blow through his hair and let his feet sink into the sand, but that's not what makes his heart skip a beat. your hands shouldn't feel this soft, he thinks. the way you allow grains of sand to fall in his hands feel otherworldly, holy. the way he senses you smile at him and place a shell on his palm, letting him trace the surface with his finger as you guide him makes him feel as the most enlightened man alive.

he can sense you're close, not by strands of your hair slapping his cheek as the wind blows, but by the warmth of your body. suddenly, he does not feel he is at the beach, but with the beach guiding her hands with his and feeling the warmth of what he feels is your smile.

he remains silent, you're looking at him, and he's looking at you underneath his shades. he's frozen. waiting for you to say something, to break this off as if this would never, by any of his wildest dreams, occur in any universe.

but you don't.

satoru feels his pulse quicken, breathing deepen as the point of your feet slot themselves to his, your nose barely brushes his own, causing the six eyed user to forget everything he once thought he knew of limits and boundaries. kiss me, he thinks, take me, he begs to the heavens. satoru thinks he could be captivated, deeper than any spell odysseus and his men were under at sea, but they were cursed by calypso's beauty, and he felt blessed by the touch of an angel. your touch enviable to the gods above.

when you kiss him, he feels like he just made the greatest discovery to mankind, like he's waited his whole life for this, a feeling that greatly surpasses galileo's lifelong accomplishments and napoleon's combined. no feeling, word, or sight could transcribe what it feels to have your lips slide through his, to have you softly gasp against his lips, and to have your body close to his. satoru is convinced that he has reborn, become whole by the touch of your lips which have sweetly imprinted themselves throughout everything he is.

he holds the back of your neck gently, so as to remind himself that you are here, not a dream but here with him. flesh against flesh, man and woman who share one breath.

when you both pull away, satoru feels himself begging to pull you closer, but the hands that push him from you let him know you need to breathe. and although his body cries otherwise, you speak breathlessly, a hint of a smile in your tone, "did you feel that shell? it was my favorite kind to collect growing up," and he smiles because he learns what it is to collect something as valuable as the shells, your lips.

with nearly 3 months of knowing you, there was a shift in satoru's chest one wednesday morning as you excused yourself for a call.

"...of course I don't! you think I want to live with him?" you ask, voice laced with disgust, "I won't be tied down like that again and you know it, Kiro. I'll be cursed if I have to be with someone like him again. you know I'd never stay for someone like that. It's dead weight on my shoulders, and I won't have anything but pity on him." your words, from the end of the hallway send daggers at satoru's heart.

"yes, I'm at work, what else do you want me to do? It's not like I can just fly my way to you in such a short amount of time. you should have told me..." a long pause, "yes... he's blind," another long pause, "I get paid on the 26th, but my boss won't let me work on the 25th, so you can sleep in my bed while I get home. and wear something under the covers, okay?" somewhere, somehow satoru wanted to tell himself he was not hearing things correctly, that you were still the same girl he knew to be around, but when you returned after your call, something was definitely wrong with you.

"so, how was you call?" he asks, feigning interest, "everything ok?"

"yeah, fine, thanks." you breathe, tired, opening the book in your hands, "chapter 21, the last spring."

one week later.

as much as he wanted to deny it, satoru was beginning to think you had changed. what was it? was it him? the kiss? the way he grabbed you? or have you finally had enough of these little visits that could have been masked as pity for a young man like him?

when the 26th passes, he does not ask what your plans are. as much as he wants to ask, he thinks it's not of his place to ask. is he doing the right thing? he doesn't know. it certainly doesn't ease the unpleasant feeling bubbling in his stomach.

"do you have a favorite treat?" you ask. caught off guard, he nods.

"kikufuku," he tells you, "when I was in high school, there was this elderly couple that had a kikufuku stand and they used to have the best ice cream fillings."

"I thought kikufuku was cream based?"

"It was, but not to them. their ice cream filling was one of a kind."

"when was the last time you had some?"

he laughs, "years ago. I'm pretty sure they ended up closing because the wife died, and she was the only living relative who knew how to make it."

"that's too bad."

"I know, but at least they were happy doing what they did." satoru then changes the subject, shifting the focus to a lighter topic.

on december 6th, satoru recieves a call.

"I told you, you don't have to call me sensei anymore," satoru groans, throwing a wooden sword towards yuuta, catching it flawlessly.

"why not? you've always been my sensei. or would you rather us call eachother cousins?"

"you're right," answered satoru adter a long moment, earning a laugh from his former student. "so what was it you wanted to talk about? clearly it was not to train, so what is it?"

"I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"well you could've just called..."

"you haven't trained with us in a while," yuuta sighs, "everyone. we don't really know what you're up to these days."

and he was right, but satoru would never admit it.

"what?" he asks, almost faking offense, "can't your sensei go on vacat-"

"-utahime sensei says you've been in your home a lot," he clarifies, "only few of us know. toge, panda, yuuji and I."

"what about megumi?"

"he's kind of in his own world," yuuta sighs, placing his weapon down before taking a seat next to gojo in the training room. "he knows things haven't been easy."

"you've kept an eye on him and yuuji like I asked, right?''

"to a degree," he admits, "I can't have them open up so freely because I'll always be their upperclassmen, but you... you're..."

"I get what you're trying to say." he answers flatly.

"you do?"

he nods.

"can I walk with you to your home?" yuuta asks, "there's another thing I'd like to ask, personally this time."

satoru finds himself agreeing with his younger student, what else could he do besides that? as the two walk, satoru finds himself giving advice he didn't think he could give, advising the student on what shall become of him now that he's already over age and in his own right to choose his destiny.

as he advises his pupil, satoru finds himself wondering the same for himself. he's turning a year older in 2 more days, what will become of him? what will he do? what does this mean in relation to kenjaku's damned curse? it aggravated him. upset him how everything felt so secure, almost ideal weeks ago, but now his life felt back in square one, returning to his home that he had grown used to be alo-

"surprise!"

not one, nor two, but several familiar voices called from the inside of his open, making satoru freeze in shock.

"surprise! we thought we'd surprise you sensei" panda's voice rang.

"he's right!" another voice, yuuji's appears, "we thought about making a little get together with our favorite sensei..."

"obviously someone had to plan this," satoru turned, stunned when shoko's voice came into play. "you?"

"no," she chuckles, turning to you but you quickly shake your head, reaching for utahime, "it was utahime!" you call, "she wanted to plan something nice for you."

"aww well aren't you sweet?" he grins tauntingly at utahime who can't help but send daggers your way as shoko muffles her laugh.

for the duration of the party, satoru is accompanied by his co-workers, friends, and students. he hears more about what they've done. what travels they have accomplished, and what romances some of them have experienced all while they share laughs. all while satoru searches for yours.

you stand a respectable distance away from him, deciding it would be best to let his friends and students take over since he hasn't seen them in so long. you weren't as special as they were, only having known satoru for the least amount of time, a part of you felt like a stranger. not that anyone made you feel left out, no. everyone was kind to you and even appreciative for your presence. however, you spent a whole majority of the party not talking to satoru, as if you weren't there.

when it came time to cut the cake, everyone who was an adult was nearly drunk. the students, all joyously supervised by ichiji laughed as they shared a group photo. yuuji, satoru's student mentioned something about adding the photo as his lockscreen, causing everyone to burst out laughing from ichiji's protests. everyone looked happy, with a twinkle in their eyes as the end to the party came to an end.

the students and ichiji were the first to leave, then shoko and utahime finding balance in one another, leaving you alone with satoru in his home.

"you didn't drink, huh."

"I don't really drink in social events." you shyly admit, scratching the back of your neck as satoru does not face you, looking towards the door where utahime and shoko left not long ago.

"you thought you were social?" his words take you by surprise.

"I, um.... I talked to your friends." you say, "they were very nice."

"I barely heard you."

"that's because you were probably occupied talking to the others-"

"-you didn't talk to me." he finds himself saying in annoyance.

"I didn't want to take your day away,"

"from who?"

"you."

"there's nothing to take from me."

"yes there is," you tell him. "your attention. you haven't seen your friends in-"

“they all pity me.”

“what? no they don-”

“-you’re not blind. people don’t… they don’t look at you like some pity animal, just waiting for you to fuck up.”

“you are not a pity....”

“oh yeah?” he breathes, ragged. “then why the fuck did you agree to read to a blind man?”

there was some silence, regret pooled at the back of your throat and then a shift in your weight as you stood.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. I like you, “I- I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,”

“I- are we…?”

“I don’t think we should be seeing each other,” he expresses. “not for a while,”

“a while?”

“yeah, a while.’’

“do you… want me to leave?”

“I think it’s for the best.”

“Do you want me to come back monday?”

“I don’t think so,”

when you left, satoru's jaw tightened, hands now fisted by his sides and a body so rigid one might think he were frozen in place. satoru stays like that for several moments, eyes nearing a burning sensation as he focuses on where he would imagine the door is, almost expectantly waiting for your return as if this were a dream.

but it wasn't.

and as the minutes pass, he paces his living room. hands running over his hair.

he had done wrong.

"ichiji," his voice almost broke, dry and borderline desperate. “I…” I think I fucked up, “I want you to pick up y/n. She just left my place, but she doesn’t have a car.”

"I already did," he says, "she said just that."

“Did she tell you anything?” he finds himself expecting.

“not really..."

“how did she look?”

normal? Ichiji wanted to say, didn't you just see her? but the tone in satoru’s voice confirmed that he did something to leave you so quiet after the party.

“she was quiet,” he tells him, “...maybe she was tired from the party. you know, she organized it herself.”

“she... what?”

“yeah. utahime helped her bring the cake. she needed someone to drive while she carried the cake because she didn't trust anyone to hold it the 20 something minutes it took to get to your house. she told me she was trying to look for someone who knew how to make ice cream kikufuku and ended up finding the niece of the old owners of a shop she said you used to frequent. after long convincing, she was able to get the niece to help. I’m pretty sure she made the cake, with the help of the niece of course. she also made the dinner, and even had shoko bring in the drinks along with candles that your friend forgot to bring, — so I guess she was just tired, right?”

Satoru was speechless. unsure if it was the fact that you did so much for him or the fact that he had never heard, in his entire life, hear ichiji speak for so long with such conviction, it was everything he needed to hear.

right? the words in satoru's mind, head pounding with everything and anything relating you. and on the other side of the line stood a confused yet almost concerned ichiji.

"hello? are you still there?"

"yeah," he answered dryly, "is... is she home safe?"

"of course, I dropped her off." but it sounded like, why wouldn't she be? to which satoru felt like it wasn't a good enough answer. he needed to see, hear that you were okay. and he was afraid that he was regretting his words so easily.

"satoru," now serious, ichiji's words pulled him from his thoughts, "are you still there? what happen-"

"-I fucked up," he choked, "I... I said things I shouldn't have..."

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, there it's so great to find an amazing writer who enjoys Lookism so much! Please keep at it, your HC's are so much fun to read! If it's not too much to ask for the boys like Gun, Samuel, and Vasco with s/o who is a foreign girl, a very capable fighter, and honorable in combat but outside the fight she is quite self-conscious and a bit naive.

Not me reading the first part of this and thinking you're being sarcastic af lol

Thanks for being so kind anon :') I'm glad you're enjoying it, I have SO much fun writing them and putting my stupidity out! Thanks for the ask! I had a little difficulty writing it.... this really isn't very good but hope this hits the spot.

Lookism with non S. Korean S/O

You're from somewhere vague and overseas. Scenario with your partner (Gun, Samuel, Vasco, Jake)

Gun

Your boyfriend was asking you to fight yet again. You're getting pretty tired of it.

You only moved to South Korea not too long ago and ever since he discovered you picked up your skills from overseas, all he makes you do is fight him. And he doesn't go easy on you.

What happened to dates? What happened to romance?

You thought your boyfriend was growing colder towards you, now always in his own head or just studying martial arts.

"...Gun?"

He peers at you over the top of his sunglasses. Your words are hard to say aloud.

"Do you ... do you not want to be with me anymore?"

"What makes you think that?"

"All we do is fight... Literally! I can't remember the last time you even asked me for anything else."

He pulls you into his arms, "You're actually challenging me. Do you know how rare that is? I'm more turned on than ever."

Samuel

You transferred from overseas after helping source partners to help grow Workers into the behemoth it is today.

Back in your field days, there wasn't anything that couldn't be solved with some violence, but your morals and fairness made you stand out amongst would-be enemies.

Even with the 3rd and 4th Affiliate President as your boyfriend, no one could deny your competence or throw around accusation of nepotism.

But you still had to get your head around the working culture in this country.

"Sammy, do I really have to call you Mr. Seo in the office?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that a bit weird? People have seen us together."

"No, I'm your boss. You need to show respect and address me properly here."

"Oh... Do you actually not want anyone to know I'm your girlfriend?"

Samuel pinches the bridge of his nose, can't quite believing he's going to give in on this.

"Fine. You can call me Samuel,"

"What about-"

"Not Sam. Not Sammy. Samuel."

Vasco

You had agreed to meet in the park for a date with Vasco.

The first time you kissed him, he nearly jumped out of his skin claiming that wasn't how dating worked in South Korea. You found out later it was just his eccentricities.

Vasco texted you that he was running late when a group of guys start harassing you.

You threaten to call the police, but when they put their hands on you, you weren't left with many options.

"Y/N?!" Your boyfriend was staring at you in shock.

"No! Euntae, I didn't want you to see me like this!" you hide your bloodied fist from him.

"What! That was amazing!"

"Thank? you?"His compliment made you blush, you knew it wasn't what 'ladies' do but he liked it?

"Y/N! I thought people only had street fights in South Korea! Do they fight overseas too?"

Jake

You think this might be the first time Jake treated you to a meal. A job well done, he had said after you beat up some thugs who were harassing the girls.

Jake's often running off to god knows where to get god knows what done, leaving you to look after the street.

Is this the supposed Girlfriend Privileges? You having to fight in his stead? You reckon you're getting the short end of the stick.

You stare at the violently red pot of stew in front of you, with some unidentified vegetables floating around

"Jake...? What is this?"

"Oh! You've never tried many Korean dishes, right! It's kimchi stew, my favourite. Here." He spoons some into a bowl for you.

With your boyfriend's loving gaze on you, you had no choice but to take a sip.

"ACK!" you spit it out immediately and grab your glass of water to wash the vileness out of your mouth

Jake rolls his eyes at you, "You've got no taste" and takes his own mouthful.

"I know, I'm with you."

#this is so badly written im so sorry #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism x reader #lookism fic #lookism fanfic #gun park #gun park x reader #vasco #vasco x reader #samuel seo #samuel seo x reader #jake kim #jake kim x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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anjaelle · 2 years ago

Text

Dumpster Diving

Pairing: College!Dave Lizewski x Black!Reader Summary: Friends help friends recover from a night of crime fighting. Warnings: Language, mentions of bruising/battering Word Count: 2.3k a/n: Finally getting around to writing about my babygirl Dave. I feel like 100 different stories have already been written about him. But I figured, why not add one more. Friends to lovers implied. Part II: Study Buddies

(Gif Source) --

Judging by the sounds you heard, you were almost positive that it was a dying opossum. Or maybe some sort of raccoon. There had been at least two occasions when you tried to help a presumably defenseless animal that'd fallen into the large dumpster after looking for a midnight snack. Maybe you were a little stupid for attempting it a third time. After all, how would they learn their lesson if they kept getting fished out? And after being nearly attacked both times, how would you learn to mind your business if you DIDN'T actually start minding your business?

You paused on the vacant campus path, looking around for a sign that anyone else would be able to help that thing. You were met with the sound of the sprinklers and crickets. Of course. This was the price you paid for being a world-class procrastinator and bleeding heart. You were leaving the library at 3am after pulling an all-nighter, AND forced to decide between saving a wounded animal and getting --at best--4 hours of sleep.

You sighed, readjusting your backpack on your shoulders, and dragged your feet to the massive dumpster parked on the side of the 6-story dorm. Something groaned and rustled inside, though it made no effort to push the metal lid open.

"Hello?" You asked, cautiously.

You were met with another groan and the sound of more rustling, indicating that you were no longer dealing with a defenseless animal, but a person. Someone clearly in pain.

"Oh, god damn it." You mumbled to yourself. You tossed your head back and groaned, pulling your backpack from your shoulders. "If you're alive in there, say something."

There was a beat of silence, and then a weak garble of words. At least, it sounded like words. You hesitated then climbed up the short steps leading up to the edge of the dumpster lid. It took you a few tries to push it all the way open, but when you did, you were smacked in the face by the smell of rotting food and stale alcohol. You reeled back and coughed, covering your mouth and nose. When you finally gained your composure, you peered back into the darkness of the dumpster to find someone splayed across the mountain of trash. They were wearing what looked like bright green pajamas and a matching ski mask. You could see a splash of dark red blooming across their stomach, and you winced empathetically.

"Hey! Do you need help?"

Of course they needed help. What a dumb ass question. The person seemed to weakly nod in response. That was a start.

"Can you reach up?" You called down.

There was another brief pause, then the person croaked out, "Yeah. Just...give me a minute."

There was no doubt in your mind that this was another student. He seemed to be throwing his voice a bit, but you couldn't quite place where you heard it. You both sat in silence while the dumpster diver took deep breaths of fresh air. There was no guessing how long he’d been sitting in there. You could imagine it was a miserable experience all the same.

"What's your name?" You suddenly asked.

The person cleared their throat and weakly responded, "Kick-Ass."

It hung in the air between you like a bad smell.

"Is that your frat name or something?" You questioned.

"What? N-no. It's..." he sighed, "it's a nickname."

"You need better friends, then. That nickname kinda sucks."

A gloved hand reached out towards you and you grabbed it, reaching your other arm down into the darkness.

"C'mon," you coaxed, "give me your other one. I'll pull you up in three."

"Are you strong enough to do that? I'm pretty heavy."

You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. "Do you want my help or not?"

"I was just gonna hold onto the edge--"

"Listen, Kick-Ass, I could just leave you here."

His other hand immediately grabbed yours, and you counted.

"One...two...three!" You pulled. You heard his feet scrape the sides of the dumpster as he pushed himself out of the grimy tin can. You both fell backwards onto the grass and gasped for breath.

"Jesus, you really are heavy." You admitted, rolling over to get a good look at him. His eyes were closed and his chest was heaving, but the color was returning to his nose and what little you could see of his cheeks. So that had to be a good sign.

"I...told...you." He gasped before rolling over on his side and vomiting into the grass. You looked away, knowing for sure that you'd likely follow his lead. Scooping your backpack up, you hooked your arms through.

There was obviously something weird about a person in green pajamas chilling in a dorm dumpster at 3am.

"Welp, I did my duty. Good luck!" You gave him a friendly salute.

But it was not your circus. Nor were they your monkeys.

"Wait!" He cried. He crawled a little ways away from where he emptied the contents of his stomach, and slowly stood on his feet. Unstably. He swayed a little, holding his side. "I...kinda need help here."

Oh come on.

"How do I know you won't murder me?" You asked, raising a suspicious brow.

He shot you a strongly incredulous look and motioned to himself.

"Are you shitting me? You're more likely to murder me, don't you think?"

Point taken.

Sneaking him into your dorm room was a struggle. Not only was he taller than you and way more muscular than you, he was also probably dying. He leaned on you for support as he limped to your bathroom and collapsed on the toilet seat with a sharp, loud groan.

"Dude," you stared at him with widened eyes and peeked out into your suite hallway to make sure no one heard, "Any louder and my roommates will think I'm hosting an orgy in my bedroom."

"Sorry." He said, through clenched teeth.

You ran the bath, feeling a little bit like a dick for being so harsh.

"No, I'm sorry." You admitted as you tested the temperature, "I'm just really tired. You're hurt. I'm just being an asshole."

He chuckled to himself, "I don’t think you’re really capable of being an asshole."

"How would you know?"

He said nothing. When you turned to look at him, he eyed you warily and fidgeted with his hands. "Just a feeling--"

"Oh my god you're a stalker."

"What? No." He shot you a look like that was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Coming from a man you just fished out of the dumpster. "I just...guessed that you weren’t completely awful."

“You’re a terrible liar.” You searched the medicine cabinet for your first aid kit, “Take the mask off.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“You’re hurt. The mask is dirty. You’ll get an infection. What are you gonna do, bathe with it on?”

He motioned with his hands like that was a viable option, and you rolled your eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Take it off!”

“No, you can’t know who I am. I don’t want to put you in danger. Not you.”

The sincerity in his tone struck a cord. And suddenly you suspected that he knew you more than you originally thought.

“I won’t tell anyone. Just…let me help you. You’re bleeding.”

He pressed a hand to the cut just above his eye, and the cut on his cheek. It was undeniable that he really needed her. He let out a deep breath and then slowly pulled his mask over his head. The mass of dark curls framed the battered, unmistakably adorable face of--

"Dave, what the fuck?!" You exclaimed. Your knees gave out from under you, and you sat dumbly on the edge of your bathtub. He nervously scratched the back of his head as you stared at each other. You weren't sure you were prepared to hear how your study partner was getting the shit kicked out of him and thrown in a dumpster.

"...yeah."

YEAH?

"What the hell happened to you?" You asked. You could hear the honey-sweet concern laced in your tone, and you weren't fully sure where it came from. He seemed just as surprised as you.

"I was fighting a guy on the roof and he—well, it doesn’t matter. He knocked me off and I fell. I think I got knocked out.”

He winced at the memory of the fall, and you mirrored his expression. Landing in the dumpster was lucky. A few inches to the right and he’d be tomato paste.

“I guess this all explains why you missed studying today,” you murmured. Then you realized— “Wait, hold on. Why were you fighting someone on the roof in green spandex. Are you a vigilante? Like…Batman?”

“If Batman worked in retail and hadn’t been laid in two years,” he mumbled. Then he caught himself, “Sorry, too much information.”

Any other time you would laugh it off. But you were still astounded that this guy you spent post-class time with was running around pretending to be a superhero. And he was getting seriously injured.

You both sat in silence as the bath water began to steam from the heat.

“And you were really doing this alone?” You asked, softly.

“Well yeah,” he shrugged like the answer was simple. “I don’t know if you realize it, but you’re kind of the only one who talks to me.”

In all honesty, you hadn’t noticed. He was quiet in every class you had together, but he always seemed nice enough. He had to have friends.

“Huh.” You applied ointment to a clean cotton ball and reached out to dab at the cut on his eyebrow, “I guess it was good that I was the one who found you then.”

You expected him to wince at the sting, but his eyes never left your face until he caught on that you noticed. He averted his gaze to the wall behind you.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

You cleaned the other cuts across his face, and applied small band aids to each area. You both seemed to be lost in thought as you worked. He was the first to break the silence.

“Why are you always so nice to me?” He asked.

You contemplated your answer. It wasn’t hard to be kind to him. You told him as much, and a blush bloomed across his cheeks.

“I guess it’s nice to have class with someone who gives as much of a shit as I do,” he cracked a small smile at you and winced when his split lip began to bleed again.

Poor Dave was falling apart at the seams.

“Please tell me you wear underwear with your suit.”

He blushed a deeper shade of red and his eyes widened in embarrassment, “It—I…yes?”

“Great! Stand up. I’m gonna help you out of this. Because it smells awful.” You jumped to your feet with your hands on your hips, preparing yourself for the oncoming fight he was going to give you.

Surprisingly, he conceded. As you helped him get to his feet, you became keenly aware of the fact that he seemed so much taller because he wasn’t actively hunching and shrinking into himself like he usually was. You briefly wondered if Kick-Ass was the real Dave he kept hidden away from everyone.

If so, why?

“Ok, so how does this work?” You asked, circling around him as he leaned against the sink.

“There’s a zipper here,” he motioned behind him. You gently brushed his damp hair away from his neck and he shuddered at your touch. And as you pulled the zipper down to reveal the bruised, taut muscles of his back, you took a second to compose yourself.

“What the hell?” You mouthed to yourself, almost ashamed that you were eyefucking an injured man. Then you caught his gaze in the mirror and found him already watching you in amusement. His blue eyes darkened when you made eye contact, and you shifted your gaze.

“Okay, relax, you’re not that great.”

He raised his hands but you could see him fighting the urge to say something. Presumably something stupid and deeply unfunny.

You pushed one shoulder forward, allowing him to slowly pull his arm out of the tight material. He moved at a snails pace, but it didn’t seem like anything was broken. You weren’t knowledgeable enough about the human body to push anything back into place. And you didn’t have the stomach to try.

Once he peeled the rest of his suit off and was standing in your bathroom half naked, you quickly gathered his things.

“I’m going to throw this in the washing machine.” You mumbled.

“Wait��l—” he reached out and wrapped you into a hug from behind. “Thanks.”

Granted, it wasn’t the first hug he’d ever given you. But it was the first one he’d ever given you in any state of undress.

“No need to thank me,” you said, patting his cheek behind you, “not while you’re still battered. I might have you make it up to me later.”

“Of course…Whatever you want.”

That hung heavily in the air between you.

Suddenly, the door swung open and Dave stepped away from you as you hid his clothes behind your back. Your roommate, Ruby, stared from his half naked and bruised body, to your guilty expression, and back at him.

All three of you stared at each other as the awkward silence stretched on for seconds. And then minutes.

“Hi.” You said. Ruby’s eyes bugged out of her head at the audacity.

“Are you seriously FUCKING Dave Lizewski in our bathroom?”

You glanced at him and he glanced back at you, unsure of what to say. He raised his brows and you raised yours. What the shit were you supposed to do?

“…yes?”

She grimaced in disgust and left, shutting the door behind her, “Gross.”

#dave lizewski x reader #Dave Lizewski x black reader #atj x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x black!reader #atj x black!reader #aaron taylor johnson #jae writes

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago

Text

Motivation Tactics

Summary: You’re having a hard time finding the motivation to finish a work assignment with an upcoming deadline. While you're on a conference call, Bradley decides to help you release some of the frustration and tension you’re feeling. His knees may not thank him later, but you sure will.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), language, talk of work deadlines and jerk coworkers.

Notes: Some shameless shenanigans, because why not? This can be read as a standalone, though I envisioned it within the RYEWID/Forgetful Boy universe, but there’s no specification on if this is before or after the series.

______

“God, you are such a fucking dick.”

Bradley raised his eyebrows as he approached your office. He had just gotten home from work and you hadn’t responded when he called out for you upon entering the house. He had climbed the stairs with the intent to find you and clearly he’d been right in his assumption that you were holed up where you spent the majority of your work day.

“What’d I d-woah,” he exclaimed as he made it to the doorway.

Something Bradley had learned about you very early on was that you were, frankly put, a neat freak. It complemented his own tidy tendencies well. Your house was always clean and organized, to the point where your friends made jokes about being able to eat off the floors. It was important to you.

This…was not that.

Your desk was in the middle of the room instead of its normal place against the wall, computer wires stretching from the outlet. Your bookshelf was backed into a different corner than it normally was but all the books and knick knacks were strewn out across the carpet. The chair you kept in the corner was on the opposite side of the room with the throw pillow nowhere to be found.

You were there amongst it all, seated at your desk chair. Your hair was piled on top of your head, glasses perched on your nose. You barely offered him a glance as you angrily typed away on your keyboard.

“Not you,” you clarified. “This jerk!”

“Okay…but why is your desk in the middle of the room?”

Bradley winced at the glare you sent him as you explained you had gotten a bout of writer’s block and started to rearrange your office as a distraction. You had been in the middle of it when you got a phone call from the editor you had been partnering with, someone you had worked with several times and who often sought you out to write for her, telling you that another journalist had requested the assignment.

“That’s bullshit,” Bradley said, feeling genuine frustration on your behalf. You worked harder than almost anyone he knew, and were so passionate about every story you write. He remembered how excited you had been the night before when this one landed in your inbox. “Is she going to let him have it?”

“No,” you scoffed with a shake of your head, “but now he’s emailing me trying to tell me that his sources are better than mine and he isn’t going to give me access to them. Well jokes on him because I already spoke with them. But he’s also threatening to write it anyway and post independently on a blog. So I need to get this finished, but I have this stupid conference call in ten minutes that I don’t even know why I agreed to be on. And my office is a mess!”

“Hey hey hey,” he soothed, nearly accidentally tripping over your printer on the floor as he walked further into the room to your side. He swung your chair around to face him as he dropped to a knee to be more level with you. He turned your face to look at him with a long finger hooked under your chin. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. You were still frowning when he pulled away, but the crease in your forehead had smoothed slightly. Still, he ran his thumb over your lips and to your cheek, pushing up on your skin to force a smile on your face. You swatted at his hand at the action, but you were giggling now and Bradley felt as accomplished as he had been all day; he always did when he was the source of your laughter.

“What are you struggling with, Pumpkin?” he asked. He rested his hands on your bare thighs, rubbing up and down slowly. You were in an old Navy sweatshirt and loose athletic shorts and as much as he loved you dolled up for him, he loved these looks of yours just as much. Truthfully, he loved you in anything, or even nothing at all.

He listened as you rambled on about what you were working on, offering his input when appropriate. He knew that sometimes you just needed to talk it out and he was always happy to be on the receiving end. After about five minutes, you were speaking mostly to yourself as you worked through your ideas, jotting them down in a notebook. He sat back on his feet, just watching you until your computer started dinging to signal the start of your conference call.

He pressed a kiss to your lips and swiped your water bottle from on top of a stack of books, intent on refilling it for you.

When he got back to your office, your eyes were darting between your monitors and you were tapping your pen against the surface of your desk. He could hear someone droning on about ethics in journalism and sourcing. He knew you were barely paying attention and that your mind was working a mile a minute wanting to get back to work, and that you’d be restless like this until the call was over and you could.

You chewed on your bottom lip before soothing it over with your tongue, and an idea popped in Bradley's head that immediately had him stirring in his pants. He thought it over for a moment before ultimately deciding that the pros far outweigh the cons, and if you didn’t want it, you could stop him.

With that in mind, he set your water down. You glanced up at him with a smile, and he winked at you before sinking to his knees in front of the desk, crawling under it as best as he could. It was a tight fit, but he made it work. You jerked when he started dancing his way up your legs, just barely ghosting over your skin with his fingertips. When he got to the hem of your shorts, a hand reached down to grab his wrist. He paused in his movements, but after a moment, you let him go and lifted your hips to help him achieve his task of tugging your shorts and underwear down. With a smirk, he spread your legs wider. You scooted closer to the edge of the chair without him even having to ask.

Bradley left gentle presses of his lips on the inside of your thigh, nipping at the skin every few kisses and then soothing it over with his tongue. You were squirming in anticipation and he stroked his thumbs in the curve of where your hips met your stomach, trying to help you relax. He blew a soft breath over where you were starting to glisten for him and your whole body shuddered. He took your right leg and draped it over his shoulder, shimmying as close to you as you could. He pressed one hand against your lower stomach beneath your sweatshirt and gripped one of the arms of your chair to keep it steady with the other before he finally leant in.

He flattened his tongue against your folds, licking a solitary stripe up and gathering your juices on his tongue. He groaned quietly at your taste as he dove back in. He switched between licking into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He knew the altering sensations were something you enjoyed. As much as your position allowed, your hips started to move against his mouth. He pulled away and the hand on your stomach came down to hold your hip instead.

“Stay still for me, baby. Can you do that?”

You let out a breathy promise of doing what he asked and Bradley kissed the inside of your thigh.

“Good girl.”

He nudged your clit with his nose before licking into you again. You whined quietly for him, and he wished he could see your face from this angle. One of your hands crept below the desk and found a home on the back of his head, fingers threaded through his curls, holding him against your cunt. Your other leg came to drape across his free shoulder. Your wetness coated his face. He was completely surrounded by your taste and scent and he hummed happily, making you shiver again.

Bradley wasn’t hurried in getting you off. Instead, he ate you out leisurely. He explored every inch of your pussy with his mouth and tongue. He would focus on the areas he knew you were the most sensitive for a few seconds longer than the rest before moving on. Your fingers tightened in his hair every time he did it. You tasted so good that he thought he could stay on his knees between your legs like this for hours, his knees and back be damned.

The speaker on the call said your name and you gasped quietly, clearly not expecting it. Bradley paused for a moment, giving you a false sense of security. He heard your mouse click and the small ding that indicated you had taken yourself off mute and pulled your clit between his lips and sucked hard. Your hips jerked and he tightened his grip on the chair to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall. You coughed to cover up the words you stuttered over, clearing your throat. You pulled hard on his hair, but your thighs tightened around his head.

You didn’t want him to stop, but he knew he’d pay for that stunt later - he couldn’t wait.

He went back to his previous pace as you spoke. You kept it as short as you could and Bradley almost chuckled when someone asked you a question, forcing you to expand. You were starting to tremble.

He didn’t really comprehend any of what you were saying, but your voice washed over him like a pleasant hum. He zeroed in on how much he loved listening to you and imagined you were demanding him go harder and moaning his name instead of speaking about ethics and writing styles, never taking his mouth off of you. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he registered you saying your goodbyes right before your laptop slammed shut, and his name really was falling from your lips.

“God, fuck, Bradley!”

You sounded wrecked and it had him doubling down on his efforts. You had been so patient with him and now he was more determined than ever to make you come for him.

He brought the hand that was holding your hip down to your pussy. He didn’t hesitate before he slipped two fingers inside of you. You were so wet, and as he started fucking you with them, your cunt let out the most obscene sounds. He drew your clit back into his mouth, humming and sucking. You pushed his head further into you and grinded your hips against his face and this time he let you, knowing you were close. The hand that wasn’t in his hair slapped down against the top of your desk. The moment he curled his fingers inside of you, you were shattering.

The moan you let out was long, loud, and absolutely beautiful. Bradley removed his fingers but didn’t let up with his mouth until you were done riding out the orgasm you had earned. You let your legs fall from his shoulders as your whole body shook.

When your hand fell from his hair, he pushed your chair back far enough to let him pop up between you and the desk. His back popped and he knew he’d be sore later, but it didn’t stop him from licking his lips and grinning at you, slumped back in your chair with your chest heaving.

“You think you can concentrate now?” he asked.

You laughed breathlessly and sat up straighter to pull him into a kiss. You licked into his mouth with no hesitation of tasting yourself and Bradley’s dick twitched, hard in his khaki pants.

God, he loved you so much.

When you separated, the dazed smile was still on your face, but you nodded at his previous question.

“Good,” he said. “Why don’t you take your laptop out to the back porch and write out there, and I’ll get your office back in order for you?”

You hummed in response, and after he helped you slide your shorts back on, you followed his advice and unplugged your laptop from the dock it was set up on. Your legs were a little shaky as the two of you stood and Bradley steadied you with a hand on your hip, a smirk threatening to take over his face.

You rolled your eyes at the look, and before he could even process you were moving, the hand not holding your laptop reached down to palm him through his uniform pants. He choked out a groan as you squeezed. But just as quickly as you had done it, you were stepping away from him completely. Unlike him, though, your smirk was planted firmly on your face. You winked at him over your shoulder as you walked to the door. There was an extra bounce in your step as you called back to him.

“I’m suddenly feeling incredibly motivated to get this done. Maybe when I do, you can proofread it while I return the favor.”

------

End Notes: My work days would be SO much better if this is how they went. I hope you enjoyed it, and would love to hear your feedback. Likes/comments/reblogs mean the world💚

Special thanks to Mak and Em for everything, as always.

Masterlist

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kstewdeux · 5 months ago

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@inukag-week | InuKag Week 2024 - Personal Space | Also on Ao3

Panic began to rise within him. His chest tightened, and he struggled to find a way out of the throng of villagers with their mudslide of praise for having defeated the weak ass demon who’d been hurting their harvest. Something about fears over winter, starvation, disease and god only knew what else because his own thoughts had turned to static. Dozens of voices melting together into a noxious soup that drowned out all else. A veritable ocean of bodies clawing at him, rushing him, attempting to pull him under and drown him.

‘Can’t hurt them. Can’t hurt them.’

Inuyasha could feel his palms sweating while his mind raced to come up with a plan of escape. But every direction he looked, there were only more people. Tightly packed together, packed against him, and all moving as one. Snapping pearly whites far, far too close to his hands, his arms, his face.

‘Can’t hurt them. Can’t-‘

The putrid stench of sweat and the sound of shouting were overwhelming. He couldn't think clearly, couldn't find a way to break free. All he could focus on was the need to find space, to breathe freely again but-

‘Can’t-‘

Someone grabbed his wrist, tugging him sideways with all their might, managing to make him stumble and in a blind panic, he roughly pushed them away with a hard thrust of palm.

Blood.

Panting heavily, dilated amber eyes darted over the waves of people in the overly crowded street to try and find the source but his vision blurred instead and a high pitching ring had his head swimming. He found himself mindlessly trying to back away only to be rudely reminded he was surrounded. More hands. More voices. More more more-

And then, without realizing he’d moved at all, he was inside a dark hut. A door slid shut behind him as he trembled out of control and tried to regain his bearings. He collapsed onto his knees instead and it was then, only then, as he stared down at his bloodied palm, that he realized…

“Kagome,” he breathed as he scrambled to his feet to go fix the damage he’d apparently caused at some point only to nearly trip over the girl herself who apparently was sitting next to him with two pieces of cloth stuck in her nostrils.

“No.”

“I’m fine. It’s not even broken,” she soothed as he dropped into a crouch and frantically tried to inspect the damage, "I just...fell. That's all. Not your fault."

That was a lie, he was sure it was, but Inuyasha couldn't even remember how to form words much less get into a fight about that right now. He wasn't even sure if he could stand again. He-

A furtive glance towards the door confirmed the rest of their friends, save one, were here. Sango was blocking the door and outside was the mob and if-

“Miroku is outside trying to calm the crowds down,” Sango replied to the unspoken question with an exasperated sigh, “I’ve never seen a village get this worked up. You would’ve thought we handed them a lifetime supply of rice. Gold. Riches. Something.”

“The relief must’ve made them crazy,” Shippo offered shakily. Kagome started trying to catch Inuyasha’s panicked gaze.

“Just focus on me,” she hummed sadly as Inuyasha continued to twitch out of control – his head whipping occasionally to the entryway like he half-expected the mob to break in here and swarm him again. A warm hand cautiously reached out before gently taking the shell of his ear between two fingers and lightly massaging the downy flesh. Oxygen flooded the room and Inuyasha's eyes fluttered closed.

"There we go. Just focus on me," Kagome's warm voice soothed as her other hand reached up to give the neglected ear the same treatment, "There we go. Just breathe."

The room began to spin and with a miserable groan, Inuyasha spread out on the ground so he didn't just careen there. Kagome applied slightly more pressure and the tension started to melt out of his locked up muscles.

"There we go. Just focus on me," she repeated. His head was gently lifted and deposited into a warm lap. Fingers carded through his hair.

"Just focus on me."

#inukag week 2024 #inukag week #inukag fluff #inukag #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #inukag fanfic #inuyasha x kagome

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lewkwoodnco · 1 year ago

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get him BACK! - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: The idea for this fic has been living rent-free in my head for WEEKS and I finally decided to write it all out hahah I wanted to try a new style of writing, something more lighthearted and not so serious/depressing so here's a fun lil fic based off get him back! by olivia rodrigo! couldn't decide which gif to put so I put BOTH lolll ofc I made some modifications to better fit Lockwood and there are some parts where their relationship isn't the healthiest butttt it's a work of fiction soo take with a grain of salt! Tyyy to @karensirkobabes for giving me the push I needed to get this written down <3 enemies to lovers, reader is a Fittes agent similar to the I can see you fic (not exactly the same set up but quite similar so think parallel universe?) HAVE FUN, 5.4k

Enough was enough. She picked up the golf club and stomped out.

“Y/N. Y/N! Where are you - hey!”

She pulled her arm back, and now she was bringing it smashing down, probably inefficiently so, but she didn’t care. She punctuated Lockwood’s yells with shattering glass and screams of her own, wreaking havoc on his car like a woman scorned. She was a woman scorned. How dare he be so irritating yet so fucking irresistible all in the same breath?

She had met him shortly after she came back from a much needed summer vacation, ready to dive into a case that ended up lasting nearly 7 months. They had been assigned to the case around the tail-end of August, but for some odd reason Barnes had been keen on briefing them individually. Perhaps it had something to do with how both of them had hounded him after their frosty first encounter. She had tried her best to be open-minded, but she couldn’t help how her face twisted over having to work with this pompous prick, convinced that he was God’s gift to them all. That was enough to incite some snarky, underhanded comment and she retaliated, and they went back and forth until they realised Barnes was gone.

In hindsight, maybe it was their extreme hounding of him as they begged to be assigned elsewhere that made him decide to never be in the same room as both of them.

"She's uptight, narrow-minded, contemptuous -"

"I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I-"

"- bossy, irritating, ill-tempered, and did I mention uptight?"

"- I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him I-"

"Enough!" Barnes could only walk so fast and they could walk faster. "The rest of the teams are already stretched thin over this spiked string of hauntings across the country. So if you want to keep your job, and if you want the commission I know you so desperately need, I suggest you find a way to put aside your differences."

So she couldn’t avoid him forever, though she tried her best. He just had to have an opinion over everything that came out of her mouth and that opinion always had to contradict hers.

“I think we should split up into the different rooms.”

“Hmm. I think it’s best we all stay in the dining hall.”

“But the Sources could be in the rooms too.”

“But it’s unlikely, since most of the guests were killed during a dinner party held…where was it? Oh yes, the dining hall.”

“All the cutlery from that party is in the kitchen, the tablecloths in the linen cupboard, the chairs in -“

“Because cutlery, tablecloths and chairs are known for being prime Sources. Infamous, really.”

She hated how mocking his eyes were. She was a leader of strong character with resolute faith in her instincts, so damn did it sting to cave.

“Fine. Shaw, you’ll set up the chains -"

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lucy’ll do it.”

“Why?”

“She’s the best Listener in all of London; she’ll know the best place to set them up.”

“Fine. We’ll meet in the dining hall at 5 pm-”

“Hang on - what about the groups?”

She mouthed wordlessly at him. “Wha - we just decided that we’ll all be in the same room! What groups?”

“To look for the Sources in the linen closets, the kitchen, the -“

“I thought we just decided that those trinkets were too menial.”

“Oh, well, we can never be a hundred percent sure, can’t we? A good agent is thorough, you know.”

She blinked, her eyes sliding over the rest of her team’s as she wordlessly mouthed retorts which were too stunned to form. She tugged at her hair, dreaming of yanking it from her scalp strand by strand.

“Fine. Fine. Fine.” She slammed her journal on the desk, treating the pages with less care than she ought to be. “Shaw and Karim, you’ll take the parlour. Lockwood and Vernon, you’ll take the master bedroom. Carlyle and -“

“Vernon? Hasn’t he been sick, like, three times this week?”

“I’LL do the master bedroom with you, Lockwood. Anything wrong with that? Hm? Anything to nitpick or whine or complain about?”

He leaned back in his chair, his smile a little too lazy for her liking. “Trying to get me into a bed? We’ve only just met.”

She had to physically restrain herself from screaming at him. That wasn't any different from the kind of digs they took at each other in private, so why was her face beginning to heat up?

"What can I say?" She spoke through gritted teeth. "You bring out the absolute worst in me."

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

Thankfully, by the time they were stationed in their different rooms, most of the fight had bled out of the two of them, and they were the closest they have ever been to amicable, or even civil. Lockwood insisted that he was better at handling a rapier than her so they decided that he would keep the visitor back, should it make an appearance, as she searched the room.

A visitor did show up, screaming something awful at the two of them. She was spiralling in despair as she tore apart drawers and boxes, coming up empty. Then, in a sudden wave of inspiration, she realised that they hadn't considered looking under the floorboards. There had been a loose one in the corner of the room, but the only problem was that the visitor was floating mere inches above the floorboard.

Lockwood, with all his proclaimed prowess, seemed quite evenly matched with the visitor, and he looked far too pale to comprehend a new plan. She squeezed her eyes shut and launched herself to the floorboard, hoping that the surprise would be enough to give the visitor pause. There was an anguished yell mixed with aggressive taunts from Lockwood, and she could make out the hiss of a flare as her fingers scrabbled for the Source: a pen. She flung it into her net and the visitor disappeared, leaving behind Lockwood sprawled on the floor, having been backed into a corner.

She numbly put the chains away and shouldered their bag of supplies, starting the trek downstairs while Lockwood caught his breath and struggled with something. She hadn't missed the outrage in his eyes and the way his jaw was ticking something furious, and prepared for the worst.

"What the hell was that? That wasn't the plan!"

"Oh, but you provoking the visitor was?"

"I was drawing it out! You were inches away from being ghost-touched."

"I was not."

"Were too!"

"Ugh, you're such a child!"

"You know, none of this would be happening if you didn't suck at finding Sources."

"Like you would have been any better."

"Actually, yes, I would have."

"Fine!" She turned and threw the bag at him, relishing the way it (momentarily) knocked the wind out of him. "You look for the rest, and God help you if you don't find them all."

Fortunately or unfortunately, her threat never saw the light of day as the rest of them had managed to find the other Sources with not nearly as much fuss as them. Everyone was too tired to talk much on the way back to DEPRAC. She began drafting their report while Lockwood helped Lucy limp along to one of the nurses. She signed the report, not looking up as Lockwood approached.

"Come to yell at me some more?"

"Ha-ha." But it was wooden and deflated. She glanced at his exhausted face and decided it wasn't worth it. "I was just...taken aback, is all. I didn't mean to -"

"It's fine. I wouldn't have lasted this long if I crumbled every time someone got mad at me."

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards and she felt this absurd sense of accomplishment.

"Still, let me make it up to you. Let's all go for dinner. My treat."

"Oh." She felt her face warm as she clumsily tried to remind herself how awful he was and how terrible having dinner with him sounded. "It's no need, really -"

"We'll be at this for a while, if tonight was any indication, so we might as well keep our spirits high."

"But-"

"I'll get George to start flagging down some cabs." With that, he briskly turned away, case report in hand, while she stared at him like a goldfish. So he was a prick on and off the job. Who did he think he was, ordering her around like that. Part of her wanted to refuse to come along out of spite, but she was starving, so she settled for a silent internal rebellion.

As much as she hated to admit it, the food was good and her team members seemed to be having the most fun they've had in months, if their noise was any indication. George and Ned were locked in some intense argument about their research on the house and Lucy was desperately trying to get them to shut up, in between a conversation about cheese rolling. She was getting lightheaded from laughing over Lucy's unusual fascination and George being George ("Shaw, say one more thing about my page holder and I'll come over there and fuck you up.") when Lockwood turned to her, half-yelling into her ear, and she nearly choked on her drink. Her weird sense of humour was usually perceived as non-existent, but Lockwood somehow managed to come up with the most out-of-pocket statements that made her sides ache. But she still hated his guts, of course.

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

And so began their convoluted relationship. Sure, they were both prone to the extremes, but in an oddly balanced kind of way. They would butt heads and swear at each other copiously during cases and then tiredly patch up (mostly) over dinner. She had started to grow fond of their team dinners, but only because of the camraderie and fostered and not because it meant having the thigh of a certain someone with excessively long legs pressing into hers in their cramped corner of the booth. That was just an unfortunate by-product that she, er, suffered through. That, and the wrestling with Lockwood over the bill ("How are you affording any of this? Aren't you at the edge of bankruptcy??"). Their relationship was complicated enough before his string of small gifts began.

Lockwood walked into the agent lounge where she was examining the file of their mission that night, and her eyes barely flickered in acknowledgement. The case was excruciatingly demanding to the point where they spent less time apart than together. He tossed a small bag on her papers before being accosted by one of her team members. By the time he was done, the lounge had cleared out and she had unwrapped the package. Her eyebrow twitched.

"What's this?"

"Oh, I thought someone might have told you by now. This here is a nifty little device called a watch, and -"

"Hardy har har. You're hilarious. I meant, why are you giving this to me?"

"Oh. Didn't your watch get smashed a few nights back?"

She grimaced. It had been rough to accept, but she had slammed against the wall so roughly that it was a miracle she didn't get a concussion. She had really liked it and she had a feeling he had picked up on how much she had been missing it over the past few days.

"Er, yes, but what does that have to do with you?"

"Feel bad, is all."

"Like how you felt bad enough to buy me a designer pen?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." His coat was draped on his chair and he was working on a biscuit tin from the cabinet. "That was just a momento to commemorate our first house together."

"Uh-huh. Sure." She reluctantly but carefully put the watch away. "You better not make a habit of this. I...appreciate the gesture, but I don't need any of this."

"I know."

"So this is the last, um, trinket. Right?"

He leaned forward, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Aw. You're cute as a button." He tapped her nose as she spluttered angrily, innocently picking up one of the maps she was pouring over as the rest of the team started to arrive.

After the case, she began writing the report as usual, because Lockwood always had some reason or the other to dawdle. But when she looked up, she felt her breath hitch. The scene was crowded, but he was somehow in her direct line of vision, talking to one of her team members, Catherine, who was laughing at whatever he was saying. She stood there, stunned, as if only just remembering that he had a life outside of her. Betrayal stabbed in her gut. Really, she only had herself to blame for thinking she was somehow special. Maybe it was the long hours, or the exhaustion that had caught up with her, but for a moment there...she could have sworn...

She didn't realise he was standing in front of her. He made some teasing remark as he looked over the report, but she wasn't in the mood. She was never bound to stay with him while he made his own additions to the report, but there was always something magnetic about him that fascinated her, and she wouldn't even realise until he was done. But not today. She glared at him before turning away swiftly, his smooth voice cutting off abruptly.

"Y/N?" He caught up with her, carelessly signing the report. "Was it- was it something I said?"

She turned to look at him, no longer illusioned by dreams or fantasies her mind had a particular propensity to concoct.

"Ugh, you're such a boy."

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

She had never been a sentimental person, but as they ascended in the elevator of the illusions museum that was their final case, she was feeling some type of way. She glanced at Lockwood, whose eyes snapped up to her face, and she squinted at him suspiciously. But he took care to keep his face blank, so she looked away. She wasn't completely innocent herself, either. It was just the showy swagger with which he walked that drew her eyes to how his rapier hung near his hip. He was always one for theatrics.

When they exited the elevator, it looked as though they were faced with a dead end, until they realised it was just an oddly placed wall.

"I'll climb over, since I'm the one with any real height."

"You're just a fraction taller than me." So not true, which he picked up on as well with a short bark of laughter. Her neck would hurt from looking up at him if they were too close together.

"I'm nearly 1.9 metres tall, and-"

"Oh, shut up; you are not that tall!" But there was no real heat behind her words, and she rolled her eyes at his grin before he pulled himself over. Once they were both at the other side, they wandered around in a maze of mirrors, looking into every door they came across, until Lockwood found one gleaming of iron that wouldn't budge.

"I'm going to pick it."

"Lockwood, no. If the door has an iron frame; it's probably locked for a reason."

"What are the odds?"

"Very high."

"Eh, I'm not convinced."

"Leave the door!"

"Geez, relax. You're no fun."

"...you're picking the lock right now, aren't you?"

"Yep."

She groaned frustratedly, haphazardly trying to get to him through the maze, but it was too late. A shriek rang out in the deathly silence, followed by loud cursing from Lockwood. She caught glimpses of the Spectre through the reflections, which luckily seemed just as confused as them, though significantly more aggrieved. She somehow managed to find the room the Spectre had burst out of, though it seemed to have sealed shut again. She yelled to Lockwood, and tugged harder at the door, finally wrenching it open. She heard his footsteps as he drew closer, rolling in just as she shut the door against the Spectre wailing at his heels.

"Lockwood," she gasped in relief, "you are so full of shit."

Still panting against the door with an angry cut running through his eyebrow, he pressed his mouth against hers, and they were a mess of lips, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. Just as suddenly as it started, it was over, and he looked away, not meeting her eyes. Her vision swam. She had never felt so alive.

"You're maddening," he choked out. "What do you suggest we do, then?"

She was dizzy and felt sure that her legs were going to give away any minute now. "I- I don't...um...god, where is that humming coming from?" She spun around, the buzzing grating against her nerves. After some hunting, they managed to find a box hidden in a cavity in the wall which reeked of psychic charge. They wrapped it in their iron net and instantly the wailing ceased.

They took the elevator down in silence. She watched him from the corner of her eye. His eyes swept her from head to toe with a dark, unrecognisable expression, before he turned to face the doors like her. What was it? Disdain? Interest? Contempt? Awe? She wanted to shake an answer out of him.

"It's hard to be on the same wavelength with someone who insists on arguing with me about everything."

“Look, I’m not the one who decided that you were a terrible person from the get-go.”

“I did not do that. I looked at the evidence and made an educated guess. Besides, I never meant to be so blatant with it. I’m just…an expressive person.”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, grimacing as she heard the smile in his voice.

“Expressive, huh?”

“Oh, sod off.”

He clicked his tongue. She wanted to rip it out with her teeth. "You can be so adorable when you're nice."

"Oh yeah? What am I when I'm not nice?"

The elevator doors opened. Suddenly, his warm breath was ghosting the exposed sliver of her shoulder.

"Hot as fuck."

She briefly short-circuited, Lockwood long gone by the time she came to her senses. She hurried out, kicking herself over how heavily she was breathing over a stupid whisper like that.

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

It was a full month before she saw him again, and she never got fully used to working with just her team again. She would turn, wondering why Lockwood was remarkably quiet, or waiting for some smartass comment, but it would never come, and it rubbed at something raw inside of her. She hadn't laughed the way she did with him since he left, and the memory of his bruising kiss hovered at the back of her mind. Not that she missed him or anything, ew. She was glad he was gone. So glad. Good...riddance.

She entered her flat, fumbling for the light switch, sighing at the pile of letters that stood abandoned on her desk. It didn't take long for some part of her to long to reach out to Lockwood, but every letter she wrote was disgustingly sappy. Sometimes, in a fit of desperation she would put on her coat, determined to post her latest letter, but the resolve would fade before she even stepped out. She'd be an embarrassment to Fittes and he would awkwardly explain how she wasn't anyone special and she would never live it down. How humiliating to be rejected by someone who made her life a living hell.

She stabbed her latest letter on her mantle with a newfound passion for vengeance. This was all his fault, the sick bastard. She was going to get him back.

The opportunity somehow presented itself by fate. The next day had just happened to be her day off, when she received a panicked phone call from Lucy. She had to return home for some emergency but George was down with the flu, and Lockwood was away at a client meeting, so would it be alright if she came over for a few hours, just until Lockwood got back?

She went over and calmed a frantic Lucy rushed off her feet enough for her to get to the train station. George was taking a nap, and though Lucy had mentioned that he'd make some soup for himself when he woke, she decided to make herself useful. She was just finishing up the touches on some spaghetti for herself and Lockwood when he arrived. He looked a little stunned to see her, and she couldn't quite find her voice either. He looked more sombre, somehow, like the last month had weighed heavily on him.

"...hey."

"Hey."

"I'm sorry about all this, it's just there was a strike, and the trains were all-"

"Oh, no worries."

"Thank you for the - is that soup?"

"Yes, and some, erm, watery spaghetti-"

"No, it looks amazing, really. You shouldn't have..."

"It was no trouble." They paused as they heard a thump coming from George's door. She left to check on him.

"George? Is everything all right? Is it the soup?"

George coughed, calling out in a raspy voice. "Soup's wonderful, thank you. That isn't Ned, is it?"

"Hm? Oh, no, Lockwood's just come home. But he came around earlier today. He wanted to see how you were doing but you were asleep."

"Oh," he wheezed. "Well, you tell him to piss off if he comes back. And maybe you can tell him I'm doing alright." He took a sip of the soup and closed his eyes. "Try not to murder Lockwood till I'm better. I want a front-row seat."

She smiled to herself as she walked back to the kitchen. Lockwood had put out two plates of the spaghetti for the both of them, and was waiting for her.

"Everything okay?"

She nodded. He picked up his fork, then set it back down, almost as an afterthought.

“You didn’t poison this, did you?” She flung her dishcloth at him, which he caught, but just barely. Damn his reflexes. But things were starting to feel normal again.

“Don’t tempt me.”

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

Lockwood had a job to do at a cemetery that evening, and though he insisted he would be fine on his own, the look in his eyes was enough of a request for her help.

"You know," he was saying on the way there, "I've got another job two days later, if you're interested, that is."

"That sounds - oh. Hang on, I'm going to the movies with Terence that day."

"Terence?" She turned to see an uncharacteristically confused Lockwood, looking as though the wind had left his sails. "Not Terence Fisher?"

"He's the only Terence I know. No worries, I think we can shift-"

"No." A stubborn streak that had lied dormant since their reunion emerged, rearing its ugly head. "It's fine. I think it's just a Type One anyway."

"Oh. I mean, you can never be too sure-"

"I'll be fine. I can handle it. You go enjoy your...your date with Terence." He looked so disgusted, and that only enraged her further. They were getting along so well. What was his problem? She responded to his cold shoulder with one of her own, glaring out the cab window.

Despite her anger, the case went smoothly if a bit quieter than normal, and she enjoyed their familiar rhythm that she had so dearly missed. Somewhere in the middle, Lockwood looked as though his anger had thawed, but then his features changed, like he had just remembered something, and he walked away frostily. She swore, biting her tongue. Fucking Lockwood.

She wandered around, kicking at pebbles, while waiting for Lockwood to straighten out his fees with the client when her heart stopped. It couldn't be. She pulled back the vines creeping around one of the headstones in an unmarked plot. The grave of Celia Lockwood.

Once she had gotten over her shock, the words seemed to flow out of her mouth of their own accord. "Um, hi." She cleared her throat. "This is probably...the most disrespectful thing I've done, but, uh, I have to ask about your son. Why the fuck is he so aggravating?" She laughed nervously, hoping Celia Lockwood wouldn't be hunting her down in her sleep for this. "He sucks. I'm sorry, I know it's terrible to say, and I'm sure you were lovely people who gave him the most loving home he could wish for...but god does he suck."

"Y/N?" Lockwood called from a distance. She waved to the headstones before hurrying back, before he could see where she had been loitering.

"I need to drop the report off at DEPRAC. Want to come with? Unless you're off to meet Terence, that is." He looked away. There it was again. Gosh, would it kill him to not pick a fight for once?

"No, I'm not meeting Terence. Not that it's any of your business."

He muttered under his breath, yanking the cab door open more viciously than needed. She could feel her temper bubbling under the surface and Lockwood's was clearly only barely restrained.

"You know," he had started, jaw ticking promisingly, once they were in the elevator. "I don't understand what your problem is."

"Me? I'm not the one throwing a tantrum like a baby."

He sharply inhaled, and she defiantly stared at him, daring him to speak. The doors opened again, and a crowd of people entered, pressing them to the back of the elevator. He seemed to decide against whatever he was going to say.

"Y/N L/N..." he murmured, exhaling through his teeth. They were nearly touching, but not quite, but she could feel the vibrations of him talking. "You are one tough nut to crack."

"Bite me." Her whisper was rougher than intended, but she was unable to tear her thoughts away from her irritation with him. Why was she feeling so shaken up? Stupid Lockwood was stupid, big deal; it wasn't anything new.

"Oh, I think I'd leave that to Terence."

"What is your obsession -" She felt this wave of euphoria wash over her as realisation struck. "Oh my god. Oh. My god. You're jealous."

"Am not." But he looked too disturbed to seem even remotely convincing. They had reached their floor and he was quickly walking away from her, and for once she didn't mind running to keep up with his long strides. Her eyes glittered with glee. Oh, this was absolutely delicious.

"You are so. You can't stand the thought of Terence and I together, can you?" She crowed, only mildly breathless, relishing his discomfort, her words honey on her tongue. Ah, at last, sweet, sweet revenge for his months of hell. "Does it hurt? Does it sting? Does it eat away at you on the ins-"

"Please. Like you've never been jealous either." The gleam in his eye looked so knowing that she felt herself falter.

"How'd you know?"

"I didn't. I...what was it? Ah, yes, 'looked at the evidence and made an educated guess.'"

She shoved his shoulder, and he just laughed. "Still not as down bad as you, idiot."

He slammed the report on the counter, frightening the poor receptionist. "I am not 'down bad.' But you can't pretend like who you're seeing is none of my business."

"But it isn't! Why do you care so much anyway, huh?"

"I just do."

"Then make it your business." Something unstable was climbing up her throat, and the nervous look in his eye told her that he was thinking about the same thing as her - that time he had pulled her lips to his.

"I...I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because...because you're the most insufferable person I've ever had the misfortune of meeting-"

"At least I'm not a completely emotionally avoidant dickhead-"

"An emotionally avoidant dickhead whose throat you stuck your tongue down-"

She shrieked, and before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling her arm back, and she heard the thud of her fist connecting with his cheekbone. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure that looked suspiciously like Barnes hurriedly back out of the lobby.

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

It was all over before it even began. The uppercut was enough to shut him up for the ride back to 35 Portland Row, where she forced him into a chair at the dining table and pulled out their first aid kit. She

"I'm sorry I punched you." Not even a little, but she had to be the first to try to make amends. Not that he would have the initiative. He just sullenly looked down at the table, twitching his cheek a little. "Is there something you'd like to say to me? An apology, perhaps?"

"Apologise for what? The truth?"

She clenched her teeth. "It was crass, and in public -"

"Big deal. I'm always crass in public with you. What was so bad about it this time that you just had to beat me up?"

"I didn't beat you up -"

"Oh, so I just did this to myself, then?"

She had promised George that she would wait till he was better, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out on strangling him. "Enough with the snark."

"I'll tell you why it bothered you so much."

"Lockwood."

"Because it was true. It was the truth, and it hurt, and you couldn't stand it-"

For the second time in less than a span of an hour, she saw red. She stumbled out the door, grabbing the golf club that was in the stand with their rapiers, and there she was now. George wasn't too upset; he seemed to enjoy the view from his bedroom window.

"Y/N -"

"SHUT UP!"

"Y/N, please, let's talk about this -"

"Oh, now you want to talk?"

"Please, just put down the golf club -"

"FUCK YOU!" She continued demolishing his car until he finally wrestled the club out of her hands.

"What's gotten into you?" Lockwood cried, and he looked concerned enough to give her pause. She blinked her murderous rage away, regret overwhelming her. Numbly, she allowed herself to be guided back inside, where Lockwood made a cup of tea for both of them.

“Oh god.” She buried her face in her hands, the embarrassment finally catching up to her. Had she completely lost her mind? “I’m such a mess. I’m sorry you had to see all that.”

“S’okay.”

“I’ll leave now.”

“Hey - what for?”

“Are...are you kidding me? I just smashed your car to bits. I might be medically certified insane.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll put up with it.”

“...you’ll hate that. It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.” She exhaled, watching the tiny daisies at the windowsill sigh and flutter in the barely-there wind. He aggrieved her like a bad habit she couldn't quite kick.

“You’re…a masochist.”

“I’m aware.”

“No, I don’t think you are.”

“Why else would I have held out so long for you?”

The teasing was back, and she let out a short, indignant gasp before walking towards him and sitting in his lap. Her eyelashes grazed his cheek as she traced the dressing on his bruise. Pity that his gorgeous face had been the only punching bag in the vicinity.

“I’m always going to hate loving you. You know that, right?”

“Know it? It’s my crowning achievement.”

She punched his shoulder and he let out an exaggerated wheeze that made her laugh despite herself. She shifted and leaned on his chest as they watched the sunlight glimmer over the shards that littered the driveway. He was both the light of her life and the insanity that drove her to destruction. She didn’t feel so bad about the car anymore.

Serves him right for fucking her up this way.

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

"So...Lockwood."

They hadn't been overly obvious about their relationship, but it wasn't exactly something they could keep from George and Lucy. Lucy was back from her trip and was tickled pink by the smashed up Volvo in the driveway.

"Yeah. Lockwood."

"You do realise that he is absolutely batshit crazy?"

She smiled into her tea. “Yeah. You’re probably right. But,” she smiled innocently. “I am my father’s daughter. Maybe I can fix him.”

#anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood x you #fanfiction #fanfic #guts #olivia rodrigo #get him back!

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madamefluffnstuff · 3 months ago

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TES Summerfest 2024, Day 2: Golden Secret

Day 2 of TES Summerfest 2024! Hosted by @tes-summer-fest.

I mean it's a day late but this week has been hectic.

Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online Pairing: None Rating: T Warning(s): Imprisonment, Captivity, Kind of sort of Kidnapping (it's Meridia, she's a spiteful hag, it comes with the territory), Gaslighting, Has a Happy Hopeful Ending I Swear (TM), Darien gives himself a second chance. Spoilers for the Daggerfall Covenant questline and the Summerset DLC. Words: 977 AN: Darien is a good source of angst but Divines I need to give him a chance at hope. And I need to quit making stuff that breaks my own heart, this can't be good for me. Or for my followers.

Darien is imprisoned by Meridia for trying to escape again and she locks him away. All he has are his thoughts to motivate him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the name "The Colored Rooms", the realm itself was... not very colorful. The only exception to the blues, greens, and browns was the brand new "prison cell" Meridia whipped up. This mockery of a Nirn jail was a porcelain-white hue with garish gold accents and bars, only big enough for a single prisoner.

Coincidentally, there was, in fact, a singular prisoner in the cell. His back pressed against the wall, wrists in shackles attached to said wall level with his head. As if just chains weren't bad enough, Meridia just had to put it where he could constantly see his hands, but not be able to use them.

"Well, now you've done it," Darien Gautier muttered to himself, glaring at the golden bars and crumpled paper sheets in front of him. He rolled his shoulders and clenched his fists to get some circulation flowing.

He cursed himself again for getting caught. He managed to get a few letters out, even a small pamphlet that somehow made its way to Summerset. But as he was about to send another letter, the Lady of Light discovered his little secret.

Meridia scolded him like a petulant child. Didn't he appreciate what she was doing for him? Saving his friends, keeping them alive? Dissuading the other Princes from coming after them? Giving them a chance to make a name for themselves?

Be the heroes they were meant to be?

Something about that last line made something snap in the back of his mind, and- in the heat of the moment- Darien leapt to his feet and did something he never thought he'd have the guts to do;

He talked back to a god.

What he actually said, he didn't remember. Couldn't remember, maybe. All he did remember was there being a solid ten seconds of stunned silence. Then a blinding white light. And finally, him waking up in the cell with a killer hangover-like headache and his arms in chains.

His memory as a whole was foggy most days, but he didn't dare to write any of it down for fear Meridia would find out and take that from him too. Little bits and pieces would come back here and there. Those fleeting memories were precious to him.

The Lion Guard taking down the werewolves in Camlorn. The liberation of Shornhelm with Countess Tamrith and Captain Jenaeve. When they almost lost the good Captain. Gwendis helping him find the smugglers' tunnels. Skordo calling him a "long-legged bastard", asking him to slow down when they were being chased.

Hearing second-hand Gabrielle mention to the Antiquarian's Guild how she wanted to save him.

"Gods DAMN IT ALL!" He nearly roared in frustration. The metal bar on the wall creaked as he leaned forward, gasping for air as he fought back frustrated tears. "Why... why is it... like this..."

Darien slumped back and slid down, the chains clinking and rattling as his eyes slowly closed in exhaustion. Whether or not he realized it, his tired body was forcing him to rest. He was simply too drained.

Then, without warning, it clicked: His friends. His comrades. Allies and fellow soldiers.

The entire Lion Guard, the Countess and her sister. Skordo the Knife. House Ravenwatch. Gabrielle. The late King Dynar. His own father, the General.

They were waiting for him. They were actively looking for him. He couldn't give up on them or himself. Not when so many people cared about him and were awaiting a miracle.

He opened his eyes warily, half expecting to see Meridia glowering at him. To his relief, she was nowhere to be seen. Darien decided to wait a few minutes to make sure there were no watch guards nearby where they could hear him. Then, slowly, he rocked himself enough to get on one knee. He balled his hands into fists and started to pull against the wall.

"Got to do this," he muttered in a voice just barely above audibility. "Have to... get out... Have to do it- nngh!- for them..."

Even Daedric metal has its limits. As he grunted and strained against his confines, Darien could hear the binds groaning. He grit his teeth;

"You can do it, Darien. Just- just a bit- more-!"

Without warning, the shackles on the wall snapped and shattered, the noise startling him a little as the support bar flew over his head and clattered on the floor. He looked at his hands in disbelief, he was really free? Fists clenched and unclenched. He didn't dare believe it.

Darien stood up on shaky legs, testing himself and his balance. Once he steadied, he rubbed his sore wrists and looked around. The coast was clear. He was more determined than ever now as he stalked over to the golden prison bars. A quick glance told him they were not as sturdy as they appeared far away. Another trick from Meridia?

It didn't matter now. His body moved somewhat automatically as the blood rushed through his veins, vigor and vim flowing through him. He grabbed two of the gold rods in an iron grip and pulled. The bare minimum effort was all it took to completely dislodge them. Suspicion took over a moment, this was too easy for his comfort.

Maybe Meridia didn't expect her protege to try to escape again and didn't bother to make them as strong. Psychological tactic, very similar to what he had seen a few times as a soldier. But he reminded himself it didn't matter right now. The chains were off, the bars removed, and a door was open. Darien took a cautious step outside the prison cell. Looking around, he was still in the clear.

When he turned back around, the jail was slowly fading into Oblivion.

He looked left, right, and made a mad dash for the pathway where he last spotted a portal to Nirn.

#tes summerfest 2024 #tesfest24 #eso #golden #secret #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls online #darien gautier #eso darien gautier #daedric prince #meridia #elder scrolls meridia #tw captivity #tw imprisonment #tw gaslighting #tw kidnap mention

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imarson404 · 7 days ago

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Is the death note 2015 drama good?

I’d say yeah, actually. It really was! 8, maybe 8.5 out /10.

i have to be real, I seriously loved watching this series, particularly the second half. I’ll do a spoiler free review first, but I do think I need to make it clear that I did not watch this in the conventional way let’s just say. My sibling and I watched this through a nearly 200 video long playlist of 2 minute clips on YouTube, in Japanese (duh) with Portuguese subtitles- note that neither of us speak Portuguese, nor Japanese, and are only vaguely competent in Spanish and French respectively, so my experience of the series may be a little skewed to how it may come off in its original or properly subbed versions. I cannot speak on how the writing was for the dialogue, for example, but I can talk about the plot, characterisation, etc.

if you want to watch any live action adaptation (that’s not the musical, because GO WATCH THAT) it had better be this one.

SPOILER FREE REVIEW STARTS HERE

first off, the changes. Boy were there changes. Practically the entire plot takes a hard left right from the start, and it keeps on going from there. Vague outlines, like Yotsuba and misa and Mikami and yellow box warehouse remain, but the circumstances are all vastly different. i adored the changes to both Watari and L’s relationship, and both of theirs with near and… Mello. I don’t think it really spoils much for me to say that for some reason known by only the writers of that series and god, Mello is made an alter of Near’s that is represented by a ventriloquist dummy. i also will never be the same after this version of soichiro and Light’s relationship. The fact they seem closer yet more distant, and the parentification of light drives a wedge and brings them together at the same time. As much as I LOVE the original version of them, there is something just more utterly devastating about these two here. The mock execution for example ends with light clinging onto his father while they both sob, and I’m not even joking when I say that it brought me to tears.

speaking of parentification, the reason for that is Dead Mom Trauma. Yeah they killed off Sachiko (which I’m not counting as a spoiler because it’s revealed within the first episode and has no plot relevance other than giving light MORE motive). I’m not too sure why this was necessary, and it’s this type of slightly contrived writing that drops its rating a bit for me. This didn’t need to happen

on the topic of light, he is a VERY different character in this. He’s messier, a nervous wreck half the time, smart but not so infallible as anime or manga light. He panics with raye penber, panics with light, IS A MISA MISA FAN and has a job. He has a best friend and a bully. He’s more average, and knows loss, and his decline is less of a sharp drop off than it is a slow painful descent into utter madness and evil. He’s a babygirl until suddenly you see a flashback and realise he’s not that guy anymore

Ryuk is great. An annoying bastard who watches on through the end.

Misa is also pretty good. She’s pretty similar to the source material tbh, but has a little more agency, and has Mikami as her lawyer, or at least the lawyer who told her her parents murderer was going free, which is interesting

speaking of Mikami, he is a secondary character pretty much the whole way through, and we get to see his build up of resentment towards the criminals who go free despite his efforts, which I very much enjoyed. I always felt like he came out of nowhere a bit in the anime, so this was a welcome change.

before I completely move on from light and miss, btw, light and his friend genuinely go to about 5 SEPARATE ICHIGO BERRY CONCERTS OVER THE SPAN OF LIKE 4 EPISODES?? Ichigo berry is misa’s group in this, and I find it hilarious that light was a fan before even the death note showed up

aaaaand for L. He’s really damn good. His characterisation is widely different from the anime, he’s more optimistic and suave in a way, he smiles and lounges in his chair instead of crouching, and wears white button down shirts and trousers and hands Watari clearly empty pieces of paper to which Watari declares ‘another wilful request!’ And goes on to do some task for him. He has a screensaver on every computer in this hotel room designed as task force hq that changes at night to a nighttime version. He's hot. He’s gay. He’s autistic. He’s totally different to the L we all know and love but at the same time is recognisable as L and loveable in his own way. overall, the plot was pretty good although it was very messy to begin with, raye penber is like,, a main antagonist, for the first 3 eps??? The Shinigami cgi is awful, the fashion is painfully mid 2010s and the characters are very clearly not the same as in the original. if you go into it expecting a perfect 1-1 of the anime, just LA, you’re bound to come back disappointed. If you go into it looking forward to seeing an alternate take on the world of death note, another universe where everything is a little to the left, you’ll thoroughly enjoy it. The emotional beats hit hard, and given it’s a tv drama, the story focuses far more on the characters and their emotions than the mind fuckery we’re used to. What does remain, however, is the Lawlight, to such an extreme degree where I find it plausible that they knew what they were doing. They knew that their relationship could come off as romantic, and played it up. now onto the spoilers!

SPOILERY STUFF STARTS HERE!!!

I LOVE THIS DAMN SHOW ICL

Light killing his bully and trying to erase the names??? Otoharada almost killing Soichiro??? THE CAMERAS STILL BEING THERE WHEN MISA ARRIVES???!!?!!

gahhh where do I even start. I’ve got FEELINGS about L’s death and Soichiro’s, FEELINGS about the dad friendship of Watari and Soichiro, FEELINGS about the lawlight of it all.

My sibling and I are both staunch supporters of both the Good Dad soichiro and Good Dad Watari perspectives, and we were FED. I scrumpt many screams at just how fed we were getting, that’s how good it was. i guess I’ll start with that. The conversation between soichiro and Watari about their ‘kids’ was genuinely moving, and it was adorable to hear them both talk about how much they love their children.

that made it all the more heartbreaking when soichiro died. At that point, L was dead (which I will get to) and near/Mello was on the run, which left Watari utterly alone. The only person using hq at that point was light, who was fully Evil and he knew it. I screamed so loud it started everyone around me when soichiro said Light’s name while he was monologuing. That is EXACTLY how I wanted a confrontation between them to go down. Soichiro seeing through lights acting and lies and being so distraught that it was true, his son was Kira, and it was obvious the whole time when you knew where to be looking. The way he never took his eyes off of him after L’s death, and the way that that allowed him to see all the little glances and ‘that Kira face you make’ as Ryuk put it. He saw under the mask, and was disgusted by what he saw. When he screamed lights name as he tried to weasel his way out of it like he had done for L’s death, I’d like to think it was the first ounce of fear he’d felt since L had died. And of course he denied denied denied right up until Soichiro tried to burn the note, and THAT was when he screamed and fought and begged, not when his father was writing his own name in the note which he had sworn was a fake. He let his father die, but drew the line at the book being burned.

he pried the notebook out of his own father’s dead vice grip.

without a single ounce of a joke, that was my favourite scene in the series. One of my favourites in DN as a whole. As I said in the non-spoiler section, this contrasted with the mock-execution scene is just so devastating, yotsuba!light loved his dad so damn much, and Kira just watched him kill himself, knowing full well he could stop it.

In tandem, L’s death was so underpinned by the friendship between L and Light as well. They don’t just pretend not the despise each other, they genuinely tolerate, or even get along. Of course I could point out the obvious, like the shower scene or ‘I wish we could have met another way’ ‘this is the only way we could have met’ but i actually want to bring up some smaller points. First off, that moment where Matsuda asks him why he still calls L Ryuga instead of L or Ryuzaki, and he tells him that it’s because he’d rather have Ryuga the friend than L the detective. And even just prior to the ‘I wish we could have met…’ scene, when light thinks he’s about to kill L he sobs as he tells him that all he wanted is to show L his new world, and that he wants to be his friend forever (‘friend’ yeah ok dude). He screams and kisses(?) his head when he does die, and rocks him as he lies there, and holds him close until he’s taken away. And L’s final posthumous video. The one where he says, even though he admits the chance that he was wrong and this video needs to be shown is slim, that he was sorry for doubting Light and that he’s glad to be his friend, and that he would be good enough to come and work with him and Near someday. And Light never gets to see that video.

the scene where L comforts near/Mello after his death is so tragic it hurts. Watari is crying, and he hugs near despite the fact that they seemed pretty detached from each other prior. They’ve lost family, and even Wammy’s in this version are allowed to let emotion overcome them.

somethings I wasn’t too big a fan of included:

raye penber being SUCH A MAJOR ANTAGONIST?? why was he a bigger threat than L for so long. Why was his real name actually Mark Dwellam or something. Why didn’t Naomi exist (well I know we got Himura/Lidner but still) why did light take such a big risk instructing him to write the names IN A CAFE?? He almost killed Light. He figured it out before anyone else really, and it’s so ridiculous that this man really did All That.

also, Yostuba was anticlimactic. The whole arc lasted barely an episode and a half, if that, and I really loved this version of mind wiped light and Misa, so that was a real shame. They figured out about Higuchi so quickly it was hilarious. The CGI when light was pricking his finger to write with was glaring obvious and bad, and duh I didn’t expect the actor to actually do it but it broke immersion a bit when this blob of blood looks so clearly edited in. You can really tell he just pressed the side of the needle into his finger and that made me laugh a bit. The good thing about the bad things is at least they’re funny and not just frustrating.

my final major grievance was just with the pacing. I feel like they hit the sweet spot between episodes 8-10 and then fell flat in the last one a bit. It feels pretty rushed but also like it dragged somehow. The first few eps definitely dragged, while the middle section flew by. also, ichigo berry performs the same song every time.

To conclude, this is a totally different show to the original and the characters reflect that. Light is a nervous wreck far longer than he’s the psychopathic god of the new world, and L is a cool guy who eats fruit pouches(?) and tbh they should kiss cos of that. Light as a clearly gay-coded make up designer slayed. Goodnight all.

#death note #death note 2015 #death note live action #death note 2015 TV drama #Death note dorama #If anyone knows where to watch it for free without viruses or anything in the Uk please lmk 🙏🙏#light yagami #L #l lawliet #watari #quillsh wammy #soichiro yagami #yagami light #lawlight #misa amane #teru mikami #My sibling and I never learned the names of Mikami’s law partner(?) or that ex detective he hired so we just called them his lawyer husband #Detective side piece

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gentlygolden · 15 days ago

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model: revenant

Nearly everyone is haunted, and only the Horo-Horo user knows. Even though Devil Fruits exist, there’s stigma around saying you’re hearing voices (and it’s not like you know who the fruit ends up with next) so the fact itself has been forgotten from all recent DF handbooks.

Unbeknownst to anyone else on Thriller Bark, Perona is fully aware of what Moria’s old crew was like, the promise Yorki and his crew made to Laboon, even how much Ryuma misses Wano. New conversation partners are hard to find when she’s been practically isolated all her life though, so it’s better than being stuck with zombies or other pirates that want her dead. The invisible creep or Dr. Stalker don’t count.

I had already been considering an “awakened!Perona au” and then I saw @andaniellight ’s artwork that got me to fall deeper down the rabbit hole… and now here we are. (For added ambiance I recommend “I Know The End” by Phoebe Bridgers; just trust me)

This is a general timeline ; canon is in normal text and au events are in red. Everything is canon-adjacent during timeskip, then veers away late Wano arc. (source: The Library of Ohara link here )

Major Spoilers thru Wano ahead

TIMESKIP, 2 YEARS BEFORE CURRENT EVENTS

At some point on Kuraigana (between 6-8 months in), Zoro overhears Perona talking to Kuina. Assuming she’s been snooping, he corners her and (threatens, basically) demands an explanation. Perona breaks down (she’s been so careful until now, no one on Thriller Bark would have cared but she’s not safe now is she) and ends up spilling everything: Kuina, both of Zoro’s parents, Ryuma, (Merry only appears one year into 3D2Y) how strange it is to be so far away from everything she’s known her whole life. Zoro regrets opening his mouth. He gives her a pat on the back as an apology and to console her (thinking what would Nami want what would Nami want). A week later he asks if she’s ever tried summoning a ghost, which actually brings them together for once; Mihawk has to pull them from the library to eat multiple times.

At some point they try a summoning circle from one of the books (if only Robin were here Zoro thinks) but it’s promptly discarded when Perona’s nose bleeds and her eyes roll back, body limp. As they’re scrubbing away chalk marks, Perona recovering in her bed asleep, Mihawk mutters something about “Mythical level” and a “lack of information”. Zoro has decent practice being a soundboard (mostly Usopp and Chopper) and is bored enough to listen to Mihawk go on about standards and pirates and apparently his distaste for Moria??

All of a sudden Zoro listens in quiet horror as Mihawk recalls past Warlord meetings where a much younger Perona told her captain how paranoid she felt around Absolom or how she really wanted to have a playdate with Baby 5, only to be brushed aside by Moria, and by the present Marines & other Warlords as well. After all, they were captains not parents. Zoro notes the guilt in Mihawk’s voice, but neither of them are brave enough to acknowledge it. Never mind absolve it..

Eventually Zoro does circle back to “what do you mean you talked to Kuina and my parents” and has a very deserved mental breakdown after learning they’ve been watching him (not in a creepy way but “oh god they saw me try to chop my legs off/get stuck in a chimney on Water Seven/*insert other embarrassing Zoro moment*) and because Kuina has heard him this whole time. She knew he hadn’t forgotten about her. Of course, this does affect the World’s Greatest Swordsman goal; but now that Zoro knows that Kuina knows, it becomes even more about Zoro making sure Kuina lives on in the memories of anyone who meets him by becoming the World’s Greatest Swordsman.

FEBRUARY

4th-6th: Straw Hats reunite on Sabaody. Right before Chopper brings Luffy/Zoro/Sanji back to the Thousand Sunny, Perona informs Zoro that his captain (previously lacking a ghost) is now haunted by his brother Ace.

MARCH

7th: the Warlord system is abolished; Moriah storms and then is imprisoned on Fullalead

12th approximately: Crocodile contacts Mihawk about Cross Guild (by now Perona has left and is on her own; she’s not so sure Moria’s crew is where she want to be though. It’s funny what two years of a domestic lifestyle with people that don’t make you paranoid will do to a girl huh)

17th: Zoro beats King, then collapses and sees Death itself. Perona watches Zoro’s vivre card smolder and shrink alone; unable to safely react or process, she forces herself to keep moving. Mihawk hides away in his room on Karai Barai, confronted with the reality that he didn’t do enough for his apprentice ward son Roronoa and that his other ward daughter the Ghost Girl is not here, all because of him. [kudos to @where-does-the-heart-lie ‘s piece about Sabo reacting to Luffy ie Gear 5, absolutely heart wrenching]

24th: Luffy and Zoro awaken after their battles. Only now does Zoro consider Mihawk’s Devil Fruit mutterings.

APRIL

7th-11th: Law & crew arrive at Winner Island and are ambushed by Blackbeard Pirates; Bepo and Law escape; Garp storms Fullalead to rescue Koby, who had been sprung free by Perona to help her free Moria. [AN: there has been NO mention of Hogback at all since Thriller Bark in-universe which makes me very uneasy]

8th-12th: Iron Giant is awoken by the Drums of Liberation (ch 1089), and soon after (ch 1106) Vegapunk is killed by Saturn, thus allowing his pre-recorded message to be broadcast to the world.

Library of Ohara hasn’t updated any further, and I don’t need to be any more precise, so let’s say that by the end of April, the Straw Hat have made it to Elbaf. (and for the purposes of this au, they’ve left by early May)

May

Early May: by some great chance, Perona et al happen across Law & Bepo. Perona begs Moria to let her have Bepo (who makes it very clear he will only go if they take Law as well). The duo are thus added to the Perona/Moria/Hogback trio (they would have put up a serious fight if they were at full power, but. well.) Perona eventually realizes Zoro + StrawHats are their connecting factor, and almost feels like she can breathe again when Law swears Zoro was fine last he saw. Privately, Perona thinks she might want to trust this weirdo.

Late one night, Perona overhears Moria plotting with Hogback about using Law to get on Cross Guild’s good side [AN: maybe Doflamingo is there? still uncertain how believable this is, might change in future]. This, combined with 2 years worth of a normal life with decent people/missing said people/Zoro’s near-death, leaves Perona very seriously considering something.

She’s been telling herself that her childhood was fine; Yeah sometimes she heard breathing in her room at night and maybe she had nightmares about being experimented on but nothing ever happened to her.

Zoro and Mihawk both disagreed. They said it wasn’t her fault. That as an adult, as her adult, Moria should have taken better care. No, he wasn’t her father, but as a captain he was supposed to take care of his crew. Protect them. It took 23 years, sure, but someone finally heard her. She can’t loose that.

———————

There are footprints across the beach, more than just five sets. Hogback is face down, motionless. Her captain’s head has been severed from his body. She doesn’t remember how it happened.

Law says Moria had swatted her like a fly mid-battle, that he hadn’t got a good look because then Moria was coming for him but her neck— and then the pirates had appeared out of nowhere, scaring Moria enough to loosen his grip. Law had retreated but couldn’t stop watching as those pirates turned to her, like they were waiting for something; then as a group, had descended upon the ex-Warlord and his mad doctor. Perona has a feeling she knows exactly what that group of pirates looked like. She saw them everyday on Thriller Bark.

(more to come soon! Just have to figure out how to format it…)

#model: revenant #<new tag yippee!!!#frogmade #one piece #perona #perona one piece #ghost princess perona #perona op #one piece au

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filmmarvel · 10 months ago

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PJO Series Overall Thoughts + Pros and Cons

Disclaimer! First of all, there are a lot more cons than pros here, and if you loved the show and don’t want to hear my criticism just keep scrolling. Second, I’m not someone to complain just because it isn’t exactly how it was in the book! I have quite a range of feelings about story changes. In regard to the ones I’ve listed as cons, i’m just irritated that they haven’t been able to match the book in frankly any capacity. I believe that if you’re making changes, it should be a) out of necessity, b) to improve upon the material, or c) taking positive creative license to try a new spin on an element from the source material. But the changes I’m complaining about, for the most part, haven’t met any of those requirements.

Pros:

Sets and Visuals

It was so magical seeing camp come to life!

The Underworld looks fantastic, the visuals are super cool, especially the Fields of Asphodel. That was a really cool spin on the books- the CGI was pretty good, and the concept there was really interesting.

Olympus was very cool looking too! It reminded me of Asgard.

Overall I Just Think There’s Lots of Potential!

Since the leads are fairly inexperienced (and kids), you can’t expect them to be incredible. They’re doing just fine, but I think they have a lot of potential, and I’m excited to see them grow over the course of the series!

Generally I still really like the casting and have high hopes for these actors, I just wish (for our sake and theirs) that they had better material to work with.

Plot Changes

This ones kind of a pro AND a con: Generally, I really like the flashbacks! They add a lot more depth to Sally, and her relationships with Percy and Poseidon. That being said, the episodes typically feel far too short to be adding material that wasn’t in the books. I thought it was fantastic in episode 7, but in other episodes it didn’t quite work when so much else was cut, or there were opportunities left untaken as a result.

I also liked that they included a few flashbacks with Luke in the finale- there was so much training and time at camp that didn’t fit into the first two episodes.

They got rid of the “names have power” stuff which is great (never made sense in the books).

They did a really nice job humanizing Medusa, but still creating conflict with her, and simultaneously setting up further issues with the gods.

I also agreed with their decision to move the fight from Santa Monica to Montauk, to save time.

Cons:

Dialogue and Writing

The dialogue is definitely less charming than in the books. It’s a huge part of what makes them fun, and the dialogue here is honestly pretty bland. The characters don’t totally feel like themselves, but it isn’t only the acting. Forcing the characters to be explaining stuff to each other nearly every time they have a conversation makes them a lot less personable.

Honestly, this series feels kind of elementary in comparison to the middle grade books. I’d imagine that, like the books, they were aiming to create something that could be enjoyed by young kids and adults alike. But I didn’t find it as successful as the book in this regard.

And the dialogue is consistently so surface level! Stiff, boring, and above all, CONSTANTLY telling over showing. This affects the likability of the characters, and the ability of the actors. Both parties are deterred by the info dumping, as they aren’t really given as many genuine lines or interactions as they should have.

Honestly, it kind of feels a bit like they gave some of Percy’s personality to Annabeth in parts of the show? I saw someone else point out that they’re kind of giving Annabeth the Hermione treatment (ie giving her some of the other characters good moments), which I kind of agree with. However, a lot of that was towards the beginning and middle of the season and has somewhat improved since.

I posted a whole rant earlier about the Lotus Casino episode, which I’ll just summarize: theres a consistent pattern in the show of having the characters figure out what’s going on immediately, removing the danger, and more importantly, not allowing the characters to make mistakes, which weakens both them and the plot. In addition, I didn’t like that they brought up May Castellan already, primarily because it was just another info dump, which (in my mind) gets lost amongst all the other info dumps and removes the poignancy from the reveal. Now, there’s absolutely time to fix the May Castellan situation and ensure that it still packs a punch later on, but for this season it wasn’t great. Go check out my last post if you’d like to hear the rest of my argument on that episode!

Some additional examples of the ‘not letting the characters experience danger’ thing: Procrustes (obviously), and Kronos- forget whether or not Percy should know who Kronos is, the biggest issue is that there’s very little evidence or buildup, so (again) there’s no tension or shock at the reveal. And finally, with Luke. I was so annoyed when Percy figured it out! I could’ve believe that they were doing it AGAIN. I still enjoyed that scene because Walker and Charlie were great, but that was disappointing for sure.

The thing with the pearls honestly amounted to nothing, and there was no reason for Annabeth to not be present in the underworld: that was just a tearjerker for the sake of being a tearjerker (manufactured drama).

Lowering the Stakes

I just wish they’d made it SLIGHTLY more mature- don’t get me wrong, it’s a kids show! I’m very well aware of that! But this feels a lot tamer than a lot of kids (PG) movies involving monsters and stuff.

Gabe was a real piece of shit in the books, but in the show they just kinda made him look lazy and turned him into comic relief. And I don’t believe in the argument that they had to make this change to benefit a younger audience- they didn’t really need to change anything there.

Throughout the majority of the season, I felt like they weren’t allowing the gods to be truly intimidating, or powerful. First with Ares, who wasn’t BAD but generally didn’t have that kind of dramatic presence that he had in the books. Again with Hades, who wasn’t shown as being REMOTELY intimidating, and perhaps the biggest offense of all- Zeus. Having the deadline pass with seemingly zero consequence or threat of consequence does absolutely nothing (and certainly doesn��t increase tension like I’m pretty sure Rick Riordan said was their reason for changing it). Up until the finale, viewers had very few reasons to fear the Gods. Even Dionysus and Hephaestus! In the books there’s a clear line- you can interact with them, but you DONT want to offend them. There’s a clear threat of power, and that just wasn’t remotely present for a while.

And again, I just want to clarify- this is an overall writing problem! It’s not that Ares, or any other one of the gods I just mentioned has a different personality than in the books, it’s that a show like this (KIDS OR NOT) should still be compelling, and part of that includes having real danger and clear stakes.

I would add that they did a much better job with this in the finale! Lance Reddick gave such an amazing performance, and truly made Zeus an intimidating figure. The fight on the beach with Ares was great as well. So I’m optimistic about this criticism moving into season 2, but I stand by the idea that this was an issue for the majority of the series.

Overall, it felt like they weren’t taking the serious parts seriously, AND they didn’t take the comedy as seriously either? So it isn’t as lighthearted OR as impactful as the books. It feels so much more bland and watered down by comparison.

Episodes Were Too Short

Everything just flowed really well in the books, here the pacing is off and the dialogue isn’t as natural (again, they’re forced to rely on a lot of telling instead of showing which takes away from genuine moments). Many character details and personality traits were cut for the sake of additional verbal explanation

As many others have pointed out, the fight scenes also feel pretty rushed, and haven’t quite conveyed the sense of urgency that they should. It all just lowers the stakes.

This Ones Kind of a Joke, but the Casting for Hephaestus

It’s mostly my book bias. This guy was NOT giving Hephaestus. Mainly because Hephaestus is the god of the forge, and I can’t picture this guy anywhere near one of those. He kind of looked like one of Santa’s elves, he’s giving tinkerer not GOD of the FORGE. This is also something they can absolutely fix/win me over in time lmao

Changes

I already mentioned most of the changes (good and bad) already, but there’s one more. I kind of wish they had kept Percy’s dream about Tartarus, especially given that they decided to have Percy figure out Kronos is behind it all earlier- it just would’ve clicked a little easier.

Finishing Thoughts

I don’t want to totally sound like a hater! I’m still enjoying the series, and I really hope it gets renewed for season 2! I was just disappointed in the weak writing. I hope that the writers will be able to recognize these flaws and improve for season 2.

Alright, I don’t really expect anyone to read this whole thing, but if you made it: thanks for reading! I’m curious to hear your thoughts, so I’d really appreciate comments, just keep it civil!

#percy jackson disney+#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo show #percy jackson show #pjo tv show #pjo finale #percy jackson finale #percy jackson and the olympians review #pjo series #pjo spoilers #pjo episode 8

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