#I blocked them on the spot because they really seemed like a gross person
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lunathewafflelord · 1 year ago
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I hate when people say “discrimination towards x people doesn’t exist” and then proceed to say crap like “I wish all x people would die, all of x people are horrible people, if you’re an x person I hate you”, sending death threats to people in those groups, wishing harm towards those people, and other things
BECAUSE THAT RIGHT THERE IS DISCRIMINATION
Even if that group is generally the oppressors, that doesn’t make it okay to wish harm on people who are part of that group. Not everyone who is in a certain group is a bad person, and acting like they are is a horrible thing.
And just because someone is part of a group that doesn’t inherently have discrimination towards it, they might be part of another group that DOES have a lot of discrimination. Constantly being told that they should die can have horrible mental health effects, and if someone already has mental health issues, hearing people say horrible things about the groups they’re in will only make things worse
I don’t normally like to make political (for lack of better wording) type posts like this, but I’ve been seeing a lot of nasty posts on here lately where people are talking about how discrimination towards certain groups doesn’t exist, but then proceed to say horrible things about those people.
It really needed to be said, coming from the perspective of someone who is in multiple oppressed groups (autistic, gay, and a woman). You can dislike your oppressors, but wishing harm towards people is not okay. Especially if they did nothing wrong and are trying their bests, and even moreso if they also deal with discrimination from other sources.
Even if discrimination towards a group of people doesn’t exist in the same way it exists for another group, wishing harm towards people just for being in a group is still a form of discrimination. (Note: I am NOT referring to people from actual terrorist groups or Neo-Nazis)
/
PLEASE let me know if anything in this post comes across as insensitive/offensive and I’ll correct it. I don’t want to cause harm to anyone and I want to know when I make mistakes so I can fix them and stop it from happening in the future.
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goodluckclove · 1 month ago
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WRITERS - Read More Nonfiction! (With Recs)
Okay so before I start I'm making it very clear that I don't say this as some generalized statement about how All Online People Aren't Reading Right. I doubt that's true! But based on some of the threads and discourse I see on my corner on Writeblr, it definitely seems like a lot of you would greatly benefit from expanding the scope of what you read.
I think there's probably a big stigma against nonfiction for a lot of people - there was for me for the longest time. Maybe six years ago, though, I stumbled into the genre and found that it can actually be rad as shit. It's been an invaluable form of research from people who definitely know what they're talking about, as well as a way to open myself up to new ideas.
You have chronic writers block? It could potentially be because you're consuming exclusively one genre of media. If that's the case, this will definitely get the gears turning!
Below are a collection of my favorite nonfiction books from my own shelf. The funny thing I immediately learned about suggesting more than like three nonfiction books at a time is that it does paint a kind of intimate picture of who I am. Feel free to tell me if these recommendations surprise you based on who you view me to be.
Clove's Favorite Nonfiction Books!
The Mystery of the Exploding Teeth by Thomas Morris - a collection of historical medical cases back when someone would see a doctor for a gunshot wound and the doctor would treat it with a laxative. WILD stuff.
American Monsters by Linda S. Godfrey - US cryptids! Lots of first person accounts.
Cursed Objects by J. W. Ocker - Famous cursed shit. Quick read but very fun.
The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Prector-Pinney - this was written by the founder of the Cloud Appreciation Society, a real organization. It tells you everything you need to know about clouds. Fascinating.
Gory Details by Erika Englehaupt - stories and studies of more morbid and "gross" aspects of science, like the guys who stung themselves with instincts to measure the pain or that beach that feet kept washing up on for a while. Cool interviews with science people.
Fuzz by Mary Roach - wild animals break the law a lot actually and we still as a species don't really know what to do about that.
Spook by Mary Roach - an account of Ghost Believing from all sides of the argument. There was a guy who measured dying bodies to see if he could see them get lighter as their soul escaped.
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimberly - an indigenous-influenced look at our relationship as a species to nature around us. Really beautiful prose from someone who I believe is primarily a botanist and activist?
All the Living and the Dead by Hayley Campbell - stories and analysis from different aspects of the death industry! Embalmers to crime scene cleaners! Super interesting!
American Afterlives by Shannon Lee Dawdy - I have. A lot of death culture books. A lot. This one talks about all the neat things people in America do with their bodies after they die in the modern age. It's fun!
Dark Archives by Megan Rosenbloom - so this IS a book on the history of Anthropodermic bibliopegy, or books bound in human skin. I'm actually midway through this now and it's super fascinating and cool. Also my wife refuses to talk to me about this so I'd love someone else to talk to.
The Secret Lives of Color by Cassia St. Clair - I read like four books on color theory and pigment for a novel I wrote a few years ago and this was my favorite. It's a look into a ton of major hues and pigments throughout history as well as a peek into the timeline of color making. Did you know making green fabrics used to be illegal?
Atlas Obscura - a fucking cool look into weird and unique spots across the globe. Every artist who works with places should have access to this. It's awesome.
Every Caitlin Doughty book they're all great. She's a modern mortician and founder of the Order of the Good Death. Just an incredible human being and a super engaging and informative writer.
If someone wants to reblog with their favorite nonfiction books and what they got from them, be my guest! Maybe someone could use a new read to get their next idea or refine what they're currently working on!
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blackjackkent · 7 months ago
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Hector: 1
Karlach: 18
Jaheira: 3
Astarion: 17
All the faves, and Astarion for variety, haha.
(Headcanon Meme)
Excellent :D
1. Holiday headcanon for Hector
As I explored a bit in The Mystery of the Night, Selunite worship has a lot of rituals but don't really seem to have too much in the way of real celebratory holidays - and certainly not any that were celebrated with particular festivity in the monastery where Hector grew up. Karlach, conversely, grew up in the Outer City which had plenty of official holidays and probably lots of less official block parties and general celebration. They talk a lot about this during their time fighting the Absolute and afterwards in Avernus; Karlach always points up when it's a holiday back in the Gate, no matter where they happen to be, and finds some way to celebrate. Hector doesn't have many ideas in this regard but is always excited to help her with whatever she comes up with because it makes her so happy to think about.
18. Favorite possession headcanon for Karlach
Oh. This one has the potential to be sad, because anything Karlach considered a favorite possession prior to the Hells is lost to her now.
I'm gonna go with a fluffy idea instead though. Living in Avernus with Hector and Wyll is a pretty rough time sometimes, especially given the heat - Hector commented at one point that it makes cuddling with her feel like they're sitting in a blast furnace, and all of them spend basically every moment sweat-soaked and feeling gross.
However, they are also friends with one of the greatest evocation wizards of the Forgotten Realms. Sometime after the epilogue party, a courier comes along the tenuous supply line they manage to set up from the material plane, bearing a gift from Gale - an enchanted stone which can produce a liter of cold water and keep it chilled for an hour, or chill the air of a room for an hour, once per day. This immediately becomes the most treasured possession of their little guerilla hideout in the House of Hope; each person gets it for one day on a cycle, and Karlach only semi-jokingly states that she will go on a mad rampage if her turn is ever skipped.
3. Sleeping headcanon for Jaheira
"One day, I will sit down," Jaheira says occasionally in her ambient dialogue, and she's only half joking. She's a half-elf so her long rests are officially the full 8 hours but even on her best days she rarely gets more than six hours of sleep, and more often four to five. Her sleep is relatively peaceful - though occasionally plagued by brutal nightmares that seem to come out of nowhere and leave as rapidly as they came - but once she wakes, she can rarely get back to sleep. She and Astarion are often both up in the middle of the night as a result; he steers clear of her as a general rule but does watch her with a certain amount of curiosity when he thinks she isn't paying attention.
17. Soft spot headcanon for Astarion
Buddy the owlbear cub is Astarion's first actual experience of softness. (Certainly in Hector's worldstate he doesn't really get any from Hector until late Act 1 when Hector starts to feel more comfortable with everything.) At first, Astarion sees him as a potential meal, but the kibosh is put on that immediately when Hector makes it clear that the beast is staying as a pet. So Astarion mostly tries to avoid Buddy until he realizes that Buddy can help him hunt other animals to feed on, but even then he sees it as a more transactional partnership.
Buddy doesn't see it that way though. Buddy thinks they are friends! So Astarion starts waking up from his trances finding Buddy all fluffed up at his side or next to his head or under his leg. And he realizes that it's oddly comforting and reminds him of some pet he had in the life he has almost forgotten, before he knew the name Cazador.
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the-firebird69 · 5 months ago
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This person Trump spent way too long and still does watching our son. It should be a massive massive massive flag. He's hiding in his blocking people his hogging it. I still want him out and you look at me with your mouth open and all sudden people are paying attention. He's watching him to see manners reactions and you can't seem to get something right our son seems to be a scatterbrain or something you can't follow what he's doing and also he said you've given me a life where I can do that freedom to do it none of my people are going to act like me or reaction is stupid and I don't believe it's really act anything like me it's a different spot and he says no but we studied what he's looking at and he's looking at people all over the world and he's saying there's some matches and things like that and he's sickness cuz he's sick he's sick it's very sick and he's finding his clan imitating you and for Christ's sake he's an idiot about it so they have this moron running around I can't see with you doing it and he goes after them it goes back to why is he sitting here Leafly obsessed ly obsessed and he's obsessed that he's going to die it's dangerous it and so we did a study quite a while ago we've done some recently on his maneuvering and monitoring changing popping up bothering you he's doing a certain streets and he's sending code is it busy boy happy camper and then it says this how are you guys seeing all this since I'm asking the questions what makes you think you're going to survive tomorrow after too long that s*** to me as soon as I've done it for a while I said oh that makes sense so we have to cut you off because you're a parasite and boy you're just like this huge parasite you're gross it's stupid you used a lot of time follow me around watching me let me tell you something pal if you haven't figured it out by now you should shoot yourself correctly cuz that's stupid you're wasting your realms time and your people I don't really care but if you haven't figured it out yet what you're looking at it for that's stupid I figure out what I'm looking for about you people they are old in just a couple weeks your behavior is obvious what you doing for signals you changing characters we act like it's a quick study 30 years as I said I don't behave like my people on the top guy I'm a little strange but man you you follow me you're a dead man you show up with one more time it's a different character I'm going to order you dead permanently and I hear it happens later on cuz you're a f****** moron I don't care I want you to get it you freaking push over. So he went off he says I'm watching it way too long and all the stuff he's asking to be forgiven and we didn't say anything goes home and screaming and ranting for hours fall asleep with his face of his phone and he woke up cuz it was going off and swear to his buddies so it is here and complaining anything I don't approaches me on that and so he sent people approach about it quite a few so far and we know what he's doing for and why you see people watch people for years like him and it's sick and they need to die if they do the next guy takes over and it goes down the line and they're awfully stupid about it we we go way out there and kill huge lines of idiots. It's very nasty out there and they want to protect themselves and that's why but you know I have to see the first million in line in front of you and really just don't have it there's a stand there holding their place and really and I keep telling them where is that who is talking about
I can't stand it anymore either this guy has a problem with our son and with us and he wants a war so we flattened that piece of s*** that's what it says you can't look like this no, Olympus
We have changed out the program and we're now getting people in here incrementally and it is for the action too and we had to revamp it today who were ramping it up mostly for this kind of attitude that Trump has and others like him and I'll tell you what there is some kind of rhyme and rhythm to it and it has to do with them losing but this kind of trump started this like 7 years ago when he was still gaining stuff and we're wondering why I thought he was losing it he still had most of his people so he started looking at it and you like him and said from you said for him to F off and it starts saying it's ruined that I'm gone but it was different causation was different. What causes him to do it is more or less his stupidity and he is too time to remember it and he just keeps on doing it now I'm going to go ask him for it they're going to take him down because he is mentally controlling it and he doesn't apprentice and we found out why it's so mysterious. Donald Trump is a wounded person it's a gig and he's saying about all of America and he's saying our son is a real American and he is hurt and stuff like that he's trying to twist his way back into the presidency but no that's not it it's doing it all over the place truth is the guy is not so bright and the max haven't doing it to blame him what they're doing it's a little bit rough and it's a little bit stupid and it looks really dumb but that's what they're doing they're trying to find who and we can find people everyday and we are going to destroy them
Thor Freya
Olympus
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deep-sea-anemone · 4 months ago
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2 things:
1) I think in this whole Pro vs Anti "debate" it's easy to believe that the Anti stance is the "default" or majority opinion. I just want everyone to take a moment and look at these results. The Antis just simply talk the loudest (mostly because the proshippers don't have anything to say. Their entire philosophy is built around not caring what others do, so they don't feel the need to berate others the way Antis do), Antis are NOT the majority.
If you voted "YES", take a moment to reflect on why that is, and why your opinions are, in fact, the minority. I then urge you to do further research into the Anti "theology" (or whatever word you want to use). It operates very similar to cult mentality. Learn to recognize the signs, and then compare it to the Anti community and your spot within it.
2) NO ONE deserves harassment over fictional characters. You don't have to like their opinions or what they create. Even if it's disgusting. Even if it's creepy or derogatory. They are lines and words on paper. They are not putting it into practice in the real world. Just avoid it. Block it. You can rant about how gross it is if you like, but PRIVATELY. Do not get the creator involved. In that situation YOU become worse than them.
Let that sink in for a moment. You find this person's actions deplorable. You think they are a terrible person. But they restrict themselves to fictional characters- Make Believe. By engaging withem, HARRASING them, you are causing deliberate harm to a REAL person. YOU and everyone else could've ignored them. It would have been extremely easy to just scroll past or block. Maybe take a moment to go "gross, what a freak". But a harassment campaign is inescapable. You are causing REAL mental distress to a REAL PERSON. You don't know this person's backstory. You don't know why they engage with media the way they do. And even if they really are just a "sick freak" there's no reason for you to take time out of your day to willingly engage in the content and the creators that make you uncomfortable. If they stay in their own lane so can you. Let them have their creepy corner of the internet. Be the better person.
Harassment isn't noble. And especially when it comes about by opinions on FICTION It makes you seem childish and irrational.
Don't like, don't read. Simple as that.
Do you think there's anyone who deserves harassment over fictional ships?
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moodymisty · 2 years ago
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✨Reactions to you being sick Headcanons✨
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Authors note: According to the Galactic Health Organization, cuddling clones is more effective than prescription drugs for healing you when you're sick. Do not fact check this. (also totally didn't make this cause I was sick lol)
Relationships: Hunter/gn!Reader, Tech/gn!Reader, Echo/gn!Reader, Wrecker/gn!Reader, Crosshair/gn!Reader(but one mention of the word princess sarcastically for cross's)
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✦ Echo ✦
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Echo’s been around the block a few times, and is pretty calm when you eventually end up getting sick. At least on the outside. Clones don’t get sick often at all, and when they do- at least in Echo’s experience- it's because someone didn’t listen to the GAR manual and ate something on a random planet that didn’t agree with their stomach.
So he’s quick to get you a drink and a blanket, hovering close enough by so he can hear if you ask for something. As long as you’re still joking and peppy, Echo won’t worry too much. He just misses your kisses however, since you refuse to give them to him until your not so 'gross'. He thinks you're just being mean, and you roll your eyes.
If you're not within close proximity however, maybe you holocall him one day and complain about how your face feels stuffy, your chest is tight; That you think you're feeling sick and you end the call shorter than usual. Echo laments how he's not close to you, but lives on even if he misses you.
The next day you end up sleeping in way past your usual wakeup time, and spend most of the day doing nothing but sniffling and snacking. You go to bed early that night and as such, forget to message Echo at all. You sleep in late again and when you wake up, your missed holocalls are filled.
You told Echo you felt pretty sick then went MIA for two days, and while he'd been fine at first, the poor man sat boiling in a sealed stew pot before finally exploding into complete worry.
You apologize and promise you'll make it up to him, though he pouts about it for a few more days.
✦ Wrecker ✦
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Wrecker is a doter. You’re his special person, and if you’re sick, he has no clue what to do. Tech is getting harassed constantly, and Wrecker is always getting you something new like food or cold water. You end up shaking your head, watching him once again ask if you need anything. You can't help but smile while shaking your head and saying 'no'; You didn't an hour ago, and that hadn't changed since.
The next time he came back however you did say yes, trying to keep your face firm as he stood at attention. 'I'm cold', you say, and wanted something to heat you up. He at first genuinely tries to go get you something but you manage to grab onto a seam of his armor before he gets to far, and he stops as he feels you tugging him back. It takes a moment before he finally gets the hint, when you are downright seeming like you want to tug him through the walls around the bunk to you.
Stripping his armor off you move to let him in, and Wrecker can't help but laugh as you attempt to push him around, trying to make the perfect spot. Once you manage, laying your head on his bicep and an arm over his chest, Wrecker finally slows down, happily accepting his duty and laying back to watch you nap.
If you're off world from him however, he panics. How sick are you really? You say you're fine but you always tell a fib about these types of things. You end up having to holocall him once he starts threatening more and more extremes, claiming he'd steal a starfighter to come out there.
He's soothed enough once he see's your face, much to the relief of everyone around him. A nervous Wrecker isn't a good one. He counts the days till he can next see you with even more gusto now, glancing at the holopic he has tucked in his mess of a bunk.
✦ Tech ✦
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Tech is all work and no play. He’s all over trying to find the exact right things for you to drink, how much to eat, what's the right temperature for the Marauder’s cabin to be at(no matter to if he freezes or boils everyone else on board), and every other possible thing you could thing of.
In all honestly you really just wanted to take a nap and let the sickness blow over, but he was too busy hovering and checking your temp for the millionth time. What's amusing about it is that Tech doesn't really visibly show if he's panicked, and so you joke that you almost feel like an ongoing experiment of his.
Tech doesn't find the joke funny in the slightest, but everyone else sure does.
If your not with him, Tech will call or message you multiple times a day, asking the same question after question before finally relenting.
You at first think he's just being his usual self, until he slips up that he misses your voice, and that it's nice to hear it. You had barely spoken to him since you got sick, and he missed you; Even in such a short time gap. You swear your heart explodes then and there, before deciding to play a quick game with him before you go to bed.
✦ Crosshair ✦
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Crosshair's never gotten sick, so he doesn't quite know what it feels like. Even if he complains you should ask a servant to do things instead since you're being such a princess; He'll still get you water, and apparently even gets his hands on confiscated candy one of the reg clones failed to get past the CO's? You don't ask.
When you end up not being able to sleep, your nose too stuffy or the bed too hot, Crosshair can easily stay up with you, keeping your mind distracted. He'll entertain you, jerking his head in the direction of what you've been working on recently and asking what it was.
It gets you talking enough that you're no longer wallowing in bed, and instead leaned more upright showing him what you'd been doing. He leans back more against the wall, eyes watching your hands move before noticing how much more alert you seem now.
When you're sick while away you end up forgetting to call him two nights in a row, and Crosshair quickly gets irritated. You do the same ritual every evening; A holocall every few days, and you message him what your doing in-between. You messed up the system, and he at first intends to call you and bark about it, but when he hears you almost cough up a lung he forgets the idea.
You end up staying up with him until you fall asleep on call and he has to end it, listening to your sick snoring. He'll get over his irritation himself, still refusing to actually call it what it was; A little bit of worry.
✦ Hunter ✦
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Hunter can actually smell when you're getting sick, but at the time, he didn’t quite realize that’s what it was. You just smelled off, and he hadn’t really paid attention until the next day you were paler faced, and nauseous.
But Hunter is a master at visibly hiding how he feels, so he doesn’t quite show much outward concern. He can’t take care of you(or anyone) if he’s the one panicking, even with as much as you reassure him it’s just a simple cold.
He'll get you anything you ask for but all in all, Hunter is the most understanding you just want to sleep. He has so many other things to worry about as well, he sometimes has trouble keeping his own head on straight.
But you being sick is one of the times Hunter becomes a little more outwardly loving, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's sweet; How he tries.
Meanwhile if you're away from him and sick, Hunter paces. He hates not knowing things, not being able to visibly see with his own eyes that you're ok. But Hunter's a big boy, and he knows you need your rest.
Though do call him every now and again, he still worries; Even if he doesn't say.
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aggravatetheaxe · 3 years ago
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some um um thoughts about eric draven + an HOH or deaf s/o? 🥺👉👈
ERIC DRAVEN X HOH/DEAF READER
I wasn't sure if you wanted this as a bullet list or a drabble or what! This is post-death, crow!Eric. Reader has no hearing in one ear and very limited hearing in the other. Also, if you like fics like this, I suggest following @deafsignifcantother!
I'm actually not super happy with how I answered this ask? This is more of a meet-cute than, like, headcanons about romance and stuff, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm willing to write more with this specific pairing if you want! This is just what came out of me for now. I guess it's mostly just throat clearing. idk idk idk I hope you like it anyway 🥺
CW: stalking/jumping/mugging by a group, dudes being harass-y and gross, reader uses speech once
Words: 1,634
Soundtrack: x x
Gender neutral reader!
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***
Devil's Night.
Where you came from, it had never been a big deal ... an excuse for college kids to get extra drunk and destroy some property, but nothing more than that. At first, you hadn't understood what the big deal was—you were a recent transplant to Detroit, and yeah, it was different than what you were used to, but nothing you couldn't handle. You hadn't understood how the night before Halloween could be different than it was anywhere else.
You were beginning to understand.
Every city had its sketchy areas, of course. You'd long since learned to hold your head up high and appear bigger than you were to compensate for what you couldn't sense. With the way you dressed and your intimidating air, most people left you alone, or hollered at you at most.
But tonight was different. You'd just been on a quick grocery run, but it'd gone south quick. A pack of guys had harassed you all the way out of the corner store and across several blocks now. You'd been walking for close to fifteen minutes, but every time you looked over your shoulder, there they were, waving and taunting you with shouts you couldn't make out.
You weren't the only person out tonight ... no one seemed to be locking themselves in out of fear. But it was like these creeps could smell it on you—your newness, your vulnerable spot, that gap in your armor.
If you were honest, it made you seethe. Assholes. You had no doubt they were shouting disgusting things, too. You were glad you couldn't hear them. But ... there was nothing you could do besides look ahead, grocery bag held to your chest, and hope they got bored.
You should never have gone out. Stupid fucking Devil's Night.
You were almost home, walking as fast as you could, when they finally made their move. They must have realized you really couldn't hear them, because by the time that uneasy feeling nipped the back of your neck, they had snuck too close.
Arms wrapped around your chest in a steely grip, making you squawk and drop your grocery bag. The smell of booze and cigarettes choked you. Your heart beat a furious tattoo against your ribcage as you struggled, thrashing your legs and trying to work your arms against the man's crushing hold.
One of his friends wrapped both hands around your wrists, and another one ducked in front of you, laughing and yelling something that only sounded tinny and muffled. In your struggle, you could barely read his lips, only catching a few vulgar words among the cackles.
"Let me go!" You weren't sure if they could understand you, but you could barely feel your hands let alone use them, and chances were these idiots didn't know ASL anyway. "Stop!"
Another wave of nicotine and alcohol washed over you as the one in front opened your jacket, shoving his disgusting fingers in the pockets. The feeling of hands on your jean pockets tore another yowl from you, and before you knew it, you were liberated from your wallet and keys.
The one in front dangled them in front of you, and you stilled your thrashing long enough to read his lips: "You want 'em back? You'll have to do a couple tricks!"
Your stomach flipped painfully, the pit of it instantly turning slimy and hard with nausea. You began to thrash again, putting all your weight into it, desperate to free yourself.
You couldn't hear what happened next. All you knew was that you were suddenly released, falling backward onto the wet cement. Pain shot up your spine, numbing your tailbone and paralyzing you for a few seconds. Your eyes snapped open, breath hitching, frantically trying to figure out what was going on—
There was a flash and a pop as a firearm you hadn't noticed your assailants carrying discharged. The acrid smell of gunpowder mingled with the ozone of the rain, strong enough that you almost covered your nose with your stinging palms. The men were scrambling in a panic, and chasing them...
A crow?
The bird flapped around their heads, herding them toward the corner of the block, but they were staring wide-eyed at something behind you. That creeping feeling at the back of your neck ... there was someone else here.
In one movement, you scrambled to your feet and turned around.
Another man stood there, around six feet tall, wearing a leather trench coat and carrying an electric guitar on his back. Black hair, rendered wavy and shiny from the rain, hung in a death-pale face. It took you a moment to realize it wasn't his skin: his face was painted white, eyes and lips lined in black ... like a clown or something.
His faint smile and the brightness of his hazel eyes startled you almost as much as the face paint. You glanced over your shoulder as the group of men disappeared around the corner, then turned back to him just in time to see his lips move. "...careful."
Had he said something? "I can't hear," you signed slowly. "Deaf. Repeat?"
Recognition brightened those already bright eyes, his mouth parting a bit, brows tilting as he realized what you were trying to tell him. He took a big step closer, coat and hair swaying, and you took half a step back.
Searching your face, he asked, "Can you read my lips?"
It was easy enough, the way he spoke. You didn't know if it was for your benefit, or if he always enunciated his words like that. Nevertheless, you nodded. "I can read lips."
The man nodded slowly, considering you. You almost jumped when the crow zipped through your peripheral and into line of sight, perching on the man's shoulder.
Still watching your face, the man chuckled a little, eyes making genuine crescents. The confusion must have been plain as day on your face. For obvious reasons, you'd never been one to hide your emotions.
"My friend," he said by way of explanation, turning his head and raising a hand to scratch the bird's crest thoughtfully. "Or ... guide. I ... I don't know."
The way his brow twitched and drew, smile melting away, lit a spark of curiosity in your chest. There was something wrong. Something different, maybe off, about this guy ... but he'd saved you, crazy or not.
After a moment's hesitation, you signed, "Thank you. The men were following me for a long time; I couldn't lose them."
"You couldn't hear them," he said softly, dropping his eyes to your boots.
A frown twitched onto your face. This guy seemed really addled. "You okay?"
He didn't answer, maybe didn't understand what you were asking. He simply searched the ground, and you followed his gaze. The two of you seemed to register the groceries strewn across the pavement at the same time, and you crouched in tandem, reaching to gather the items. It was just a few cans, a bottle of liquor, snacks, a soda, and of course your wallet and keys ... luckily, none of it had been seriously damaged. Within a few seconds, the mysterious stranger had helped you sweep everything back into the paper grocery bag.
You stood first, holding the bag tightly to your chest again. The man straightened slower, gaze still on the ground for a beat before he raised his head to look at the smoke-filled skies.
"The fires are starting," he said, stare lingering, then on you again. There was a strange whimsy about him, a manic sort of energy, but you didn't get the impression he was happy about the fires in question. Not a participant in Devil's Night.
Again, you asked, this time mouthing the words, "You okay?"
"Okay? I will be." A truly unsettling smile spread his lips. "Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean."
You stared before eventually signing again. "What is your name?" Name, you mouthed slowly, pointing at him.
He blinked rapidly, his long, wet lashes fluttering. Vulnerability shone through. "Name ... my name ... my name..." He turned, crossing his arms and thumbing his chin as though this was a difficult question to answer. "Draven," he eventually said, turning his face so you could see his lips clearly. "My name was Eric Draven."
Was? This guy was something else. That name sounded familiar, but you couldn't quite place it. "I'm [Y/N]. You need anything?" Shifting your bag, you drew your wallet from it, offering him a twenty dollar bill.
Eric looked at it like you'd just offered him something worthless, then shook his head. "I'm looking for someone. A place. Nearby. A bar ... called the Pit." He met your gaze again. "Do you know where it is?"
You couldn't hear him, but again, you took note of his cadence. The way his mouth moved, you could tell his inflection was bizarre, like he was reciting poetry. You wondered if he spoke like that with everyone or if he was doing that because you were Deaf.
Never taking your eyes from him, you motioned in the direction of the bar in question, and he followed your movement. The crow called and took to the air a second later. Eric closed his eyes briefly.
Just as you were about to ask—again—if he was okay, his eyes snapped open, another smile brightening his face. "Thank you." It was the most heartfelt thank-you you'd ever received, his entire expression shifting with it.
Your heart thudded. You spared a glance behind you, watching the crow climbing the darkened sky.
When you turned back, Eric was gone.
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archived-kin · 4 years ago
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diluc ragnvindr and the secret spouse
note from kin: i was running around dawn winery looking for any chests i might have missed when this idea suddenly popped into my head. honestly i was tempted to do this similarly to the obey me solomon piece i did a while back and give diluc a husband but then i figured i should probably keep it gender neutral for both the girls and the gays
this is super short but i’ve had writer’s block for AGES so at least i got something out! i hope this isn’t so awful it burns your eyes out :,) i tried my best okay
fandom: genshin impact
character(s): gn!reader, diluc, aether, paimon
pairing(s): diluc/reader
warning(s): none
genre: fluff!!
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You wake to the distant buzz of household conversation and a distinct absence of the usual presence beside you. Slightly disoriented, you sit up, rubbing at your eyes as the morning light peeking around the edge of your heavy velvet curtains casts the creases of the sheets around you into sharp definition.
A still-steaming mug sits on the bedside table, indicating that it hasn’t been long since your dear husband got up and made you your usual morning cup of tea. There’s a little red flower sitting on the saucer - a Windwheel Aster, which, if the flower language the two of you have developed over time still stands true, means that he’s still at home. He’d have left a Snapdragon if he was going out, a Calla Lily if he’d be gone for the day, or a Cecilia if he’d be away for an extended period of time. Of course, he tells you these things in person when he gets the chance, but, well - duty calls, and duty certainly doesn’t wait for a sensible wake-up time.
You throw your arms up and stretch, limbs trembling slightly as all the knots and cramps that have built up throughout the night finally straighten out. Windwheel Asters usually herald a good day in your household - though with Diluc, they can become Snapdragons and then Calla Lilies in the blink of an eye - and you’re looking forward to spending some time with your husband. It’s been a busy week for the both of you, what with an unexpected increase in the number of Abyss Order attacks cropping up around Mondstadt as well as several sudden unexplained deaths of hunters from Springfield, and you’d really like to have twenty four hours to just relax.
Diluc’s usual coat is still draped over the chair beside the desk, so, after a moment’s thought, you pull it on over your nightclothes. You have the weekend off, anyway - all your pending cases have been essentially solved and are ready to go - so you don’t see any need for donning your usual detective garb, though you do feel tempted to put on your trademark scarf to ward off the morning chill.
You take a few minutes to make the bed and open the curtains before you sit down in the armchair by the window to enjoy your tea. You can see several of the usual workers milling about between the grapevines, as well as what looks like a carrier balloon being docked just by the road. That’s new - deliveries to Dawn Winery usually come by carriage, but then again, the fact that the balloon also appears to be smoking extensively and is being accompanied by a very dishevelled-looking man who looks close to tears indicates that this probably isn’t a delivery,
On further inspection, you realise that your husband is standing nearby the smoking balloon, conversing with a young man with long golden hair tied back in a braid that you’re not particularly familiar with. You’re sure you recognise him from somewhere, though - in the same way that you might recognise the general composition of a painting you’ve seen in passing.
You don’t have time to continue contemplating the boy’s identity, though, because next thing you know, Diluc is leading him inside. You drain the remainder of your tea to the dregs with one gulp and pull yourself to your feet, resolving to go down to greet the two.
While you don’t bother with changing into something more formal, you do take a moment to wash your face and freshen up your breath with some of the mint-water Diluc keeps in the bathroom. You’re not fussed about keeping up a ‘respectable’ image, but you do at least want to be presentable.
Diluc is sitting with his back to you when you slip into the front room, still dressed in just your nightclothes and his overcoat, now with your feet tucked into a comfortable pair of slippers as well. The boy he’d invited in is the first to notice you, looking up from the map in his hands and face steeling slightly as he registers your presence.
An odd little fairy of some kind is bobbing about behind him, chewing on what looks like a large slice of cake. Her eyes widen to the size of saucers as she spots you, exclaiming so loudly that she sprays crumbs all over her unsuspecting golden-haired companion.
“Who’s this?!” she shrieks, alarmed in an almost comically exaggerated way. Her shock sends her even higher into the air, and she threatens to hit the ceiling head-on. “Y-you don’t look like a maid!”
You raise an eyebrow, mildly amused. “That would be because I’m not a maid.”
Diluc finally turns around, eyes lighting up slightly when he sees your choice of attire. A small smile curls at the corners of his lips as he moves to the side, leaving enough room on his seat for you to settle down beside him.
His young friend’s eyes dart between the two of you rapidly as Diluc continues droning on about something to do with transport balloons and the influx of monster activity in the area without a word as to your sudden appearance. He’s certainly quick-witted, you’ll give him that - he seems to deduce your relationship almost immediately.
Still, he asks about it in a polite and roundabout way - bless the boy. You can imagine that he’s a little afraid of making assumptions, especially about a man like Diluc.
“Is that your coat, Master Diluc?”
Diluc pauses in the middle of his explanation, eyebrows lifting slightly. You don’t know why he seems so surprised by the boy’s question - after all, the impression of the prideful Darknight Hero he has probably doesn’t incline him to think of him as a relationship-y sort of man.
“...yes.” He says finally. You don’t miss the way he steals a glance at you through the messy fringe of his red hair.
“Why so surprised?” You chime in, smiling at the boy as he straightens up slightly at the sound of your voice. ���Surely you’ve deduced our relation already?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Are you two… partners?”
You laugh. “Well, you could certainly put it like that.”
“You’re so clueless, Aether!” complains the boy’s fairy companion. “They’re obviously dating or something!”
Aether shoots her an unimpressed look. “That’s what I meant, Paimon.”
“Your name’s Aether, then?” You note. He nods. “Good name, Aether. You seem like a smart boy.”
“Hey!” The fairy glares at you, but it doesn’t really have much effect when she’s got the face of a baby lamb and crumbs still decorating her lower face to boot. “Don’t forget about Paimon!”
“Paimon’s a lovely name too,” You comply with a smile. “Very trustworthy.”
She looks appeased by the compliment, crossing her arms with a smug grin aimed at her taller companion. “See? Paimon’s trustworthy.”
“I heard them, Paimon,” sighs Aether, wearing the kind of expression that tells you he has to put up with this sort of thing a lot.
“What are you doing up so early?” Diluc asks you, and you start slightly at his sudden question. “Normally you sleep til noon on Sundays.”
You shrug and give his thigh a firm pat, taking great enjoyment in the way his ears flame up slightly at the gesture. “Guess I just missed your lovely face.”
The red of his ears darkens. “...you’re ridiculous.”
“You’re cute,” you counter with a smile, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose. He chuckles in spite of himself, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a smile that he rarely lets anyone but you see.
“You’re both gross,” Paimon decides with a pout, and the two of you suddenly remember the presence of the two other people in the room. Aether is pointedly staring at a painting on the wall, but at Paimon’s words, he hurriedly turns back.
“No, no, it’s fine,” You laugh, waving off Aether’s apologies for his fairy friend’s comment. “The maids often say the same thing.”
“The maids wouldn’t say such things if you didn’t insist on being so affectionate everywhere,” Diluc comments, though the smile still tugging at his lips tells you that he definitely doesn’t consider that a bad thing. “If you don’t want them to talk, perhaps you should take it down a notch or two.”
“Who said I didn’t want them to talk?” You counter, inching closer to him again. You'll refrain from kissing him right in front of Aether and Paimon, but that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him a little. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re the one always hanging off my shoulders whenever you get the chance.”
Diluc, however, doesn’t seem to have the same qualms as you about abstaining from affection in front of guests. His smile widening almost playfully, he gently lifts a hand to your chin. “Oh? Are you complaining?”
“Who said that?” is your response, and you lean in and kiss him.
It isn’t until the two of you pull away that you realise that Paimon has started making gagging noises as Aether frantically tries to shush her, all the while determinedly refusing to look in your direction. You almost feel bad for the kid - he clearly isn’t the best with affectionate couples.
“Sorry, sorry,” You say airily, moving away from Diluc, though you keep a hand resting on his knee.
“Is this what all married couples are like?” Paimon says, still wrinkling her nose in disgust. “If so, Paimon doesn’t want to get married, ever!”
Aether, still avoiding direct eye contact with both you and your husband, mutters an exasperated, “Bold of you to assume anyone would want to marry you.”
She immediately kicks him in the head, nearly knocking the poor guy right off the sofa. “Paimon heard that!”
“What a rowdy pair,” You comment cheerfully as Aether retaliates by flicking Paimon hard in the head, sending her spiralling halfway across the room with an indignant yelp. “You really do make strange friends, Diluc.”
He makes an odd chuffing sound in response to your words. “They aren’t any stranger than you.”
You shake your head. “You still married this strange detective, didn’t you?”
“I suppose I did,” He smiles softly again, setting his right hand over the one you have on his knee. “I wonder if I made the right decision?”
You give his knee a reproachful pinch and he gives short, sharp laugh in response - something that you don’t hear nearly enough from him. “Of course you did!”
You move to jab him in the sides, knowing exactly where all of his sensitive spots are, but he stops you quickly, seizing both your hands in his and firmly refusing to let go. You struggle for about a second before giving up and slumping against him with a dramatic huff.
“You’re too strong,” You complain, though your affectionate nuzzle into the side of his neck directly contradicts your pseudo-annoyed words. “I don’t like it.”
Diluc chuckles, knowing full well that you love the fact that he can lift entire tables without breaking a sweat. “Whatever you say, darling.”
The look that you give him as you raise your head nearly knocks all of the breath out of him. The adoring grin on your face doesn’t relent as you lift a hand and brush his cheek, your touch feather-light and sending shivers down his spine.
He finds himself leaning in again, overwhelmed by your presence. You smile knowingly and reach up to meet him - only to be interrupted with a start.
Paimon complains, half-disgusted and half-resigned, “They’re doing it again!”
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junghelioseok · 4 years ago
Text
clandestine. | 02
↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]
notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think! 
warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy
⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 
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Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.
Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.
“Hey, Noona.”
“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”
Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”
Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”
“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”
Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”
“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”
“Jungkook, we—”
“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”
“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”
You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.
“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”
You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.
“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”
Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.
In fact, you’re certain of it.
So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.
[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?
[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner
[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)
You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.
Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.
You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.
“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”
Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”
You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”
Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”
You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”
“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”
The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.
“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.
“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”
“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.
Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.
///
You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.
“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”
“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”
Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.
You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”
Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”
You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”
The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.
“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”
You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”
“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”
“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”
You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.
“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”
“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”
Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”
Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—
“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”
“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.
“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.
“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.
“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”
Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.
“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.
“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”
“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”
You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.
The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.
“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”
The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.
“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”
You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.
“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”
Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”
“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”
Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”
He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.
“Well, Noona?”
Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.
Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.
It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”
His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”
You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”
A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”
The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”
He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.
It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”
In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”
“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”
“You…”
You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?
What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?
You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”
The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.
His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.
“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”
Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.
“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”
Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”
A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.
“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”
Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”
Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”
Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.
“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.
“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”
For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.
At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”
You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.
Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.
“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”
“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”
And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.
It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”
“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”
You swat his arm. “Stop that!”
Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”
“Oh my god, Jungkook.”
Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.
“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”
Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.
Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”
“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”
Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.
There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.
He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.
///
It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.
“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”
Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”
Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”
Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.
“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.
“Cozy?”
“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.
“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”
Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.
“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”
“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.
“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”
Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”
“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”
Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”
“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”
Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”
The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.
He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.
From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”
Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.
“What? Huh?”
“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”
You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”
Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”
You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”
A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”
“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”
“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”
“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.
“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”
“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”
The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”
Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”
“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”
“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.
You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”
Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.
“Dude, that’s my sister.”
Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”
You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”
Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.
“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”
“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.
“{Name}, wait a second.”
You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”
Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.
You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”
She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”
At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”
Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”
You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.
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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years ago
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Hi! It's an au twilight question.
What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?
A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.
That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.
Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?
For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.
Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.
If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.
Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.
But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.
He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.
More, Edward is a man of his time.
Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).
Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.
That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.
What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!
Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.
Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.
This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.
Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.
Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway
But let's pretend they do it anyway.
I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.
Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.
So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.
He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.
(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)
However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.
The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.
Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.
Leaving without a single word, yikes.
Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.
In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.
Bella is carrying Edward's child.
There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.
However, she has some immediate issues.
First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.
Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.
Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.
Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.
That leaves vampires.
Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.
(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)
A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.
Bella... starts to get worried.
She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.
Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.
Bella debates her options.
Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.
On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.
Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".
Because the Cullens all hate her now.
Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.
Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.
Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.
Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.
Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"
Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.
Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)
Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.
Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.
Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.
Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.
An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.
Aro is stunned.
He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)
He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.
You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.
Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.
Or it could be the alien from Aliens.
There's no way to tell, really.
BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.
Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.
As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.
Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.
Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."
Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.
Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.
Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.
And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.
Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.
Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?
They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.
At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.
Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.
Aro stares.
Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.
As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?
Edward loses his mind.
And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.
To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.
Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.
Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.
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nevadawasnottaken · 4 years ago
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love languages
the love language of dream smp members :) (platonic for minors! romantic for others) im doing them all bc they all deserve recognition! :D keep in mind i dont know all of their personalities well! (hbomb, antfrost, ponk, lazarbeam, etc) these are all c!dsmp (in game) those marked with * are ones im uncertain about/unfamiliar with! -- dream: gift giving or acts of service with a twinge of physical touch. mans will get anything for you, no lie. you want it? hes got it. dream xd: acts of service or gift giving. possibly touch, but i dont see him being keen on it unless its in private. i see him as someone who tries to spoil his s/o a lot. if youre a worthy lover of a god, you should be treated like one. george: probably acts of service, quality time and touch. man would probably cuddle with you while watching some movie that neither of you pay attention to. sapnap: touch or words of affirmation. he does like giving gifts on occasion though! probably something thatll remind you of him. but overall, he prefers hand holding or something. he likes knowing youre there. callahan*: quality time. i imagine he likes going places all over the smp. it makes him happy to take you places that he finds beautiful. even better when you find them beautiful too! sam: acts of service for sure. he would make you tea (or your preferred drink) on a bad day and wrap you in blankets and cuddle as much as youd like. or, he would leave you alone if you need it. hes very caring, warden persona aside. sam nook: gift giving seems his thing! or acts of service! he seems as if he would get you things to cheer you up, or just simply do things like tuck you in. if you want, he gladly will let you pet his lil ears. (yes i hc that sam nook has lil ears :) ) alyssa*: even if we dont see her much, she strikes me as the type to enjoy physical touch. hand holding or something simple. she prefers to stay out of the thick of things and chill, thanks. ponk*: touch or words of affirmation i think are very fitting. he seems the type to always have an arm around you or holding your hand. he definitely would be good at comforting, i think. badboyhalo: i think we can all agree that hes a mix of everything. i think hes most oriented with words of affirmation and quality time. he likes spending time with you, just telling you all the things he loves about you. tommy: more than likely quality time. i dont see him as one to like holding hands (”me? hold hands? grOSS! step away and leave some space for the holy spirit!”) or anything. hes not good with words of affirmation (he needs them, really) and hes a bit awkward with things like hand holding. so spending time with him is his thing. listening to his discs and joking around with you and tubbo is what makes him happy. tubbo: gift giving, touch and quality time. he likes spending time with those he cares for, as well as giving them gifts. little trinkets, mostly. for example, he gave ghostbur a bracelet woven from friends wool, and hes given tommy a ruby! :) fundy: probably gifts. fox man will find you shiny things. emeralds, diamonds, gold, you name it. even if you dont need/want it, he gets you things. rings and necklaces and bracelets. it makes him happy to see you wear them. not all at once, of course, but wear them nonetheless. punz*: acts of service and touch. hes the type to arrange your things to suprise you or leave you flowers on a bad day. he also would probably cuddle and ramble about how perfect you are to him. purpled*: quality time. i think he would gladly spend time with you if you asked him to :) wilbur: a little bit of everything, i think. but one thing i think he would definitely do is write songs, so basically making playlists, but he sings for you instead! but for one of the main ones, i think he mostly is one for touch and affirmations. he likes being comforted/comforting you. ghostbur: gift giving or touch. quality time, too! i think he likes giving you things (like blue!) in general. he also seems very clingy (which is adorable <3 anyone who says its not can fight me rn) and would gladly hold your hand! he often will just take it anyways. :) (”i like holding your hand! your hands are nice to hold because theyre warm!”) schlatt: quality time. like tommy, i think he isnt one for touch. maybe he will give you gifts, but spending time with him is enough of a gift for him. skeppy*: gift giving. he would probably get you big gifts, like stuffed animals or something. or photos. seems like a skeppy type thing to me. :) eret: a little of everything, i think. but i see his thing being touch and quality time. i think they would very gladly cuddle if you asked them to! but shes big spoon, no doubt about it. only little spoon if you ask. jack manifold*: acts of service or touch. he would make you food if you wanted it, i think, or hold your hand. maybe not the best with comfort or cooking, but he tries. (”look i- i know the cookies arent good, but its the thought that counds, right?”) niki: words of affirmation, quality time and touch would all be nikis thing! :) she would spend time with you, probably cuddling and providing comfort if needed. she would remind you every day that youre loved and youre worth it. quackity: definitely touch and quality time. when hes not busy, he takes you places. often to watch the sunset. he also strikes me as one for pda! a bit shy at first, but relaxes into it. hes definitely one to say “gotta show off my partner! >:)” mexican dream*: words of affirmation but in spanish dont @ me karl: do we need to even question this? (spoiler alert: quality time and touch) hbomb*: strikes me as the type for quality time and some touch :) techno: probably acts of service, gift giving and quality time. he likes holidays like christmas and your birthday because he can give you things. he likes shiny things! and he likes you, so he gives them to you! antfrost*: quality time and touch seem fitting. just the peace of being together. philza: quality time and gift giving with a bit of touch. he likes when you touch his wings, running your fingertips over the smooth feathers, or fixing any ruffled spots. he also likes spending quiet time together. he can give words of affirmation and comfort if you need them. connor*: probably touch! i see him as the type to want to hold your hand a lot. so def one for pda :) puffy: probably quality time and words of affirmation. goat mom would def be able to encourage and comfort you. vikkstar*: i think touch is fitting :) pda really, and acts of service lazarbeam*: acts of service seem most fitting! he seems the type to do things for you, especially on bad days. ranboo: gift giving and quality time! he is definitely the type to get you little things! or grass blocks. he gets sad if you rid of a grass block, so you kinda have to store em. or kindly explain that you dont want dirt inside, so you can put the grass blocks outside. foolish: the type for acts of service, i think! and maybe some touch. i think he gladly will do things for you, no questions asked. (unless it seems harmful ofc!) hannah*: seems the type to like words of affirmation (giving and receiving!) especially on your/her bad days. slimecicle: gift giving. he probably picks you flowers and does nice things whilst being sarcastic. he will comfort you on bad days, though. -- as usual, lmk if i should change tags! requests are open! 
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archaxwii · 3 years ago
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The Tiny Fox Thief
Warnings: This story contains soft, safe, vore. Scott catches Fundy trying to steal his stuff for the 100th time and decides to punish him to deter him from doing it again.
I promise I didn’t stop wanting to write these, I originally wrote this like two months ago but works been rough recently and killing my motivation and time to write, but hey at least I got this out in time for Origins to come back? I’m hoping the next one won’t take as long but I can’t make any promises. Despite the long wait I hope you enjoy! 
A tiny fox man was rummaging through his things.
Again.
Scott had causally walked into his house to get some payment for Ranboo and Tubbo for a trade they were doing for his new build, and he was greeted with a familiar sight.
He opened one of his chests to grab some gold and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a tiny ball of orange fluff hiding behind a diamond that was suspiciously not with the other diamonds.
Scott rolled his eyes, he grabbed the gold he needed and safely stored it away from the greedy fox before plucking Fundy up from behind the diamond.
Said fox yelped a little at being caught and now being so close to the giant.
Scott shifted his grip so Fundy was gently held in his hands instead of dangling by the fingers. Even if he was a little thief Scott didn't want to hurt his friend.
Scott raised an eyebrow at him." This is the fifth time this month Fundy, don't you ever get tired of gong through people's things?" He questioned flatly.
Fundy gave Scott a sheepish look." Uh, heyyy, Scott...I uhh, don't know what you're talking about, I was just looking at your pretty gems, they're uhh, very shiny from down here, you know?" His eyes darted around, trying not to make eye contact with the agitated giant.
Scott didn't seem convinced.
"You know, you'd have your own shiny diamonds to look at if you went and got them yourself instead of stealing from other people." He deadpanned.
"Pshh, what's the fun in that?" A look of fear crossed his face as he realized his mistake." Uhh, not that I was stealing, cause, uh, heh I was totally not doing that, I promise haha." His ears flattened against the back of his head as he grinned nervously.
" What am I gonna do with you? You know I could blow you to smithereens right?" Scott shook his head. He was obviously joking, but a little intimidation never hurt anybody.
"Ahah, but you'd never do that right?" In the back of his mind he knew Scott wouldn't do that, but Fundy did shrink a little further into Scott's hand nonetheless.
"Hmm, maybe I should, teach you a lesson to quit stealin' from everyone." Scott threatened.
At first it was an empty threat, but a small rumble from his stomach gave him a different idea.
It wasn't uncommon for someone to go missing for a little while due to being tucked away in a persons belly. Most of the giants in this server had the ability to protect their prey and keep them safe for as long as they wanted, and for the ones who didn't have those powers there were potions that could easily help keep prey safe as well.
That's why Fundy knew as soon as he heard that growl, with the look that crossed Scott's face, that it was time to bolt. He immediately panicked and started trying to squirm out of the hand he was trapped in.
"I think I know a good place I can put you for tonight, maybe it'll teach you a lesson." Scott himself had never eaten anyone before, but he knew he had a control over his own digestive system, so he wouldn't actually hurt Fundy.
"P-please, Scott! I-I promise I won't steal again, I've changed, I've mended my ways and all that!" He stuttered frantically.
Now, Fundy has spent a fair few nights in the belly of one of his friends, especially after he'd been caught stealing from them, but just because he knew it was safe didn't mean he liked it. It was just so humiliating.
And I mean do you know how long it takes to get saliva out of fur?
In a stroke of luck, Fundy managed to squirm out of Scott's grip and he leapt off of Scott's hand onto the floor.
Fundy was speedier than the average tiny, fast enough to almost make it to the little hole the tinies used to get into Scott's house.
Key word there is almost.
Right as he got to the entrance, as the scent of the outside hit his muzzle...he was swept right back up into Scott's hands.
He whined as Scott's grinning face looked down at him." So close, yet so far Fundy." He petted Fundy's head with his thumb." I promise it's just for tonight, it'll be a good nights sleep and I'll let you out in the morning." Scott tried to reassure.
It was quite warm inside, it was soft and it was easy to fall asleep knowing he was safe.
Fundy huffed. That didn't mean he liked it! It was slimy and gross, it was so loud, and being eaten was so just embarrassing, and don't even get started on the trip down! No, he most certainly did not want to get eaten.
Scott kept a firm grip on him as he lifted Fundy above his head. Fundy yelped as Scott opened his mouth and unceremoniously dropped him in.
To Fundy this was a familiar hell. To Scott this was an unfamiliar heaven.
He hummed as he felt squirming around. Fundy battered his tiny paws at his teeth, trying to get him to open his mouth.
Scott didn't relent and instead started licking the little fox. He had a very salty taste that made his mouth water.
After Scott figured Fundy had been covered in enough saliva, he tilted his head back so Fundy knew what was coming. It was strange to feel Fundy physically tense, and after a couple seconds he swallowed him down.
Fundy yelped as he was shoved into the dark tunnel.
This was always his least favorite part. Not that he liked any of it, mind you. But this always left him dizzy and disoriented and feeling a bit sick.
He squirmed at the painful crushing that slowly pulled him down. He could tell Scott had never eaten someone before, it was much more painful than usual.
After a few more swallows his feet were pressed against something, he whined as he was squeezed through something much tighter and then unceremoniously dropped into a shallow pool of liquid.
Tired as the decent down left him, Fundy didn't hesitate to scramble up and start battering at the walls. He didn't want to actually hurt Scott, but he was still upset, it was so disgusting and humiliating. Why did they always do this to him?
Scott stumbled a bit, leaning against the chest at the unexpected assault on his stomach.
He didn't expect to be able to feel everything so strongly, and it felt kinda nice, despite the attack inside.
He hummed, pressing a hand to his stomach." You doing alright in there Fundy?" He inquired. He wanted to make sure he wasn't gonna actually hurt him.
"No, Scott, you just ate me!" He growled, trying to jump and climb up the slick walls to no avail." Please let me out, it's really gross in here!" He whined.
Scott chuckled, rubbing circles on his belly." Well I didn't exactly swallow you for your enjoyment, this is meant to be a punishment after all." He lowered his voice, tone more serious." Are you actually ok in there? I'm not hurting you, right?"
"...If I said yes would you let me out?"
"Fundy."
"Ok, ok, yeah I'm not dying or whatever." Fundy huffed, slumping against the wall with his arms over his chest.
"It's just for the night Fundy, I promise I'll let you out in the morning." He reassured.
Fundy remained grumpily silent, until Scott heard the thumping of footsteps and a figure appeared in the doorway.
"Scott?" Inquired the dark, imposing figure of Ranboo. The poor ender hybrid had to duck to see into the door.
Caught up in catching Fundy, Scott had forgotten his original goal when coming in here.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ranboo, I was trying to grab the gold for you guys and found a certain someone rummaging through my things again, so I had to deal with that." He quickly explained, sliding off the chest.
At the mention of Ranboo, Fundy scrambled up trying to claw at the walls again." Ranboo! Help me! I don't want to stay in here please!" He cried.
Unfortunately for Fundy, Ranboo couldn't hear him from the inside, but from the slight glance to Scott's belly he seemed to be able to figure out what happened.
Regardless of whether he knew or not Ranboo only lightly chuckled." You'd think he'd get tired of stealing one day." He stepped into the house, shaking his head." Well, do you have our stuff?"
Scott did a little "Oh yeah!" jump before turning around to dig in his chests. Fundy was still fiercely trying to get Ranboo's attention, which Scott blithely ignored.
After a couple seconds Ranboo was in the possession of 3 stacks of Redstone, a couple gold blocks, and some obsidian, and Scott now owned several stacks of concrete that he couldn't be bothered to harvest himself for a new build he was working on.
After saying their goodbye's Ranboo wandered off to...wherever he and Tubbo wandered off to, and Scott was left alone with Fundy, who was now grumpily sulking against the stomach wall.
After shifting his spades of concrete into his chests Scott retired to his room, flopping backwards onto his bed, trying not to jostle Fundy around too much.
He curled up around his middle, wrapping his arms around his stomach and allowing himself to revel in the sensation of Fundy being in there. Fundy wasn't moving much anymore but Scott could feel his weight, like a warm stone sat in the center of his belly. If he concentrated enough he could even feel the fox's soft breathing.
As much as Scott wanted to punish Fundy he did still feel bad for trapping him all night." You gonna be alright in there?" He softly asked.
Fundy huffed tiredly. It wasn't...that bad. It could actually be quite calming if he had wanted this to happen. It was much warmer than his cave and softer than the bed he slept on. The deep sounds of Scott's lungs and organs working around him did much better to soothe him than the dead silence he slept in at home. It wasn't really that bad in here if you ignored the disgusting amounts of slime...it's just that he hated feeling like food. And he knew nobody on the server felt like that towards him, but it didn't stop his brain from thinking about it that way.
He curled up tighter in a ball." I don't like being food for you guys." He mumbled, Scott could barely even hear the fox.
Scott pressed a hand to his belly, surprised at the sudden vulnerability. He didn't know Fundy felt that way about being eaten. Scott had assumed it was a fun game to him like it was everyone else." Fundy...none of us think like that about you, any of you, we like to have fun and mess with you guys but I-none of us- would ever think of you as food." He reassured. He'd never taken much consideration into how tinies really felt about being eaten, since people like Tubbo, Tommy, and Niki seemed to enjoy it (most of the time) and with the knowledge that it was safe, he didn't consider how negative it could be for some tinies.
He rubbed circles into his belly, feeling regretful." Do you actually want me to let you out? I don't want you to be in there if it upsets you."
Fundy sighed, licking at the few stray salty tears on his face."...No, there's no point when I'm already in here. And it isn't...that bad, I just...hate being reminded of where I am."
Scott chuckled lightly." Just think of it like a really weird waterbed, except with more slime." He offered.
Fundy snorted. It was like a waterbed of sorts, except it felt more like you were inside it than on top of it.
He laid his head down on his arms, closing his eyes. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but Scott's words soothed his nerves enough to where he found the stomach much less distressing than it had previously been. With Scott gently rubbing him and the sound of his heartbeat filling his ears and drowning out his thoughts, Fundy drifted to sleep.
Scott wasn't tired just yet. Being a Starborne, he much preferred being out at night and as such he was mostly nocturnal. He didn't mind staying awake anyway. He didn't know the next time he would be able to do something like this and wanted to enjoy himself as much as possible.
For now, Scott was content to just settle down and comfort Fundy. He'd had a rough couple hours thanks to him so he wanted to make him feel better as much as possible. He hadn't eaten tonight, but Fundy filled his belly enough where he didn't need to, a nice comfortable weight to keep the hunger at bay. He softly rubbed circles into his belly around Fundy, who seemed to slowly be drifting off. He was happy to lay like that for another few hours, enjoying the feeling of Fundy inside, as close and safe to him as a friend could be.
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lalainajanes · 3 years ago
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For klarosummerbingo, my “mango lassi” square! Did I order Indian food for dinner? Yes, yes I did.
Masks Off
When she notices the goon tailing her – shaved head, seasonally inappropriate leather jacket, neck tattoos – Caroline’s pissed off.
And exhausted.
She’d spent all day cooped up in the boardroom at Forbes Industries, listening to men twice her age complain about dividends and try to suggest that workers didn’t really need a raise subtly.
It had been a tedious and pointless exercise, one she suffers quarterly. Caroline holds 51% of the company’s shares and can easily wrangle another block of shareholders into voting with her. Her parent’s wills, read out fourteen years ago, had bequeathed a stake in FI to several loyal employees. People they’d loved, who’d stepped in to help raise Caroline after they’d passed.
The board knows she has the final say, and it kills them. They think she’s an idiot, that she’d bought her degrees and can’t comprehend the financial statements. They try to ply her with compliments and flattery, attempt unsubtle fibs – Caroline plays dumb and tolerates the bullshit because she knows she can control them. Another board might not be so easy to manipulate.
She’d had a headache by the time the meeting had wrapped, had been so grateful to see Enzo waiting at the curb. She’d practically dived into the backseat of the town car, had rolled the partition down, and enjoyed a satisfying debrief and bitch session on the drive back to her apartment. Enzo had offered to grab her dinner before he went off the clock, but Caroline knew he had a date night planned. She’d shoed him away, told him she’d order in.
Once safely tucked away in her place Caroline had gotten restless.
She’d changed out of her boring suit, pulled out the pins in her hair, and loosely braided it back. After changing into a pale blue cotton dress and pair of oversized sunglasses, then selecting a few Forbes Industries prototypes, Caroline had headed out for sustenance.
She hadn’t bothered to let her security detail know. She’s adept at sneaking away under their noses. The detail is mostly for show, to make sure no one connects Caroline Forbes, wild child heiress, to the vigilante who’s working on tidying up the city streets.
She’ll slip into the leather ensemble she’d commissioned once night falls and load up with weapons. Then she’ll head to the garage where she keeps her armored vehicles and larger toys.
There’s a new villain who’s been popping up more and more frequently on her patrols. She hasn’t caught him doing anything untoward just yet, and he’s yet to make the papers and have a ridiculous name bestowed upon him. She’s scoured papers from England, then the rest of Europe, checking to see if there was a reputation that preceded him. So far, she’s found nothing, but  Caroline knows he must be working on something big.
Why else would he be so determined to attract her attention? He must have some kind of plan cooking up, wants her looking in another direction when he enacts it.
The walk to the restaurant had been uneventful. Caroline had to wait a few minutes for her order to be ready, but passing the time on a bench outside, unnoticed, her people-watching undisturbed, had been a nice change from how she’d spent the rest of the day.
It promised to be a hot evening, even though the sun would be setting shortly. Sweat had begun gathering near her hairline, forcing curls out of her braid. Caroline had added a mango lassi to her order and collected her dinner, inhaled appreciatively at the warm, spicy scent emanating from the paper bag.
She’d begun her walk home, sipping her drink contentedly, weaving through the growing number of pedestrians who were venturing out for the evening.
She’d noted the guy shadowing her about three blocks from her building, had heaved a dramatic sigh that had the guy waiting for the walk light with her edging away.
She’d just wanted to stuff herself with naan, biryani, and saag paneer and become one with her couch for a few hours before she went out to take out her frustrations on some bad guys. Was that too much to ask?
Caroline takes a turn, heading east to where there should be fewer people, reaching into her bag to slide her fingers into the modified brass knuckles (not actually brass but a proprietary FI compound) and grasping the extendable baton.
She takes another turn to check that she’s not paranoid, but the goon mirrors it.
As does another person.
Caroline pretends to adjust the strap of her dress, twisting her head to get a better look at her second pursuer. It’s an impressively muscular woman, her considerable height only enhanced by her spiked hair, dressed in skin-tight shorts and a mesh crop top.
She doesn’t seem to mind that Caroline’s spotted her, wiggling her fingers and offering a challenging smile.
There are two possibilities. Either the people following her are cocky and stupid – really the ideal scenario – or they’re cocky because they’ve got a solid plan and some big guns.
When a hand grabs her upper arm and yanks her into an alley, spilling the mango lassi and staining her dress, Caroline suspects it might be the latter. She’s thrown against a wall, just managing to get her hands up to save her face from being smashed into the brick.
She hears footsteps pounding against concrete, and the two pursuers she’s noticed join the man who’d yanked her into the alley. Regretfully, Caroline drops her takeout and her bag and backs away, hiding her weapons in the folds out of the skirt. She forces a quaver into her voice, “What do you want?”
It’s unlikely that three people who seem to have stepped right out of the goon for hire catalog have just decided to rob her. Caroline doesn’t want to assume there’s a larger plot. She’s hoping this won’t turn into a big thing, and she’s out of luck if people are planning to kidnap Caroline Forbes for ransom.
But it’ll be even messier if a bad guy’s clocked her extracurricular activities.
The spiky-haired woman takes the lead, stalking towards Caroline. She’s got a knife in her hand now, “What do I want? Twenty million dollars, to start with.”
Oh good. It’s just a kidnapping.
Honestly, kind of an insulting one. She won’t even have to liquate any assets to come up with the twenty million. Caroline stops moving, straightens her spine. “Done!” she chirps brightly. “Wire transfer, or cheque? I can do cash too, but that’s like ten briefcases. What are you going to do with them after?”
She’s been hoping to catch her attempted kidnapper off guard, but the woman doesn’t falter. She snorts, “You’re funny. I didn’t expect that.”
“Thanks, I get that a lot. I’m chock full of surprises.”
Spike lunges forward, and Caroline dodges, stepping past her and whipping her arm out, until her weapon lengthens fully. She crouches, extending her leg and spinning while slashing with her baton. Caroline lands a brutal strike on Spike’s kidneys. Spikes grunts, stumbles forward, arm banding over her stomach protectively. Caroline completes her spin and rises, catching Spike with a punch before she pauses, poised on the balls of her feet, back to a wall.
Her would-be kidnappers no longer look as confident. Spikes spits blood, expression enraged. The other two watch Caroline with calculative gazes.
“Girls gotta keep in shape, right? The tabloids are brutal. It turns out the elliptical is super boring, so I had to find something a little more fun.” Caroline leaps forward, tucking into a roll, snagging a brick from the ground and using her momentum to throw it into Leather Jacket’s face.
The brick makes contact with a gross crunch of blood, bone, tissue, and teeth. Leather Jacket howls, his hand coming up to cover his head. She jumps again, thighs locking around his neck, spinning to bring him to the ground. She digs her knee into his spine, gripping his head and slamming it into the ground for good measure until he goes limp underneath her.
Caroline stands, wiping her hand on her already ruined dress. “One down,” she says.
Only to instantly regret the proclamation. Bonnie says she needs to lay off on the monologuing, and maybe she’s got a point.
She senses movement behind her, near the mouth of the alley. Caroline turns warily, head swiveling between her two attackers and the men who are now freaking rappelling from the rooftops. Six of them. In black tactical gear, strapped with weapons and wearing black ski masks.
Well, crap.
If she’d been on patrol, with her protective suit and gadgets, she might have been able to take them. Now, in flats and a sundress, with two flimsy weapons and no backup, she doesn’t like her odds.
Caroline tosses the baton aside, pastes on the smile she uses when she has to ignore paparazzi shouting rude questions about her sex life at her. She lifts her hands slowly, palms open. “So, I’m guessing you don’t only want cash, huh?”
“Funny and smart,” Spikes says spitefully, coming up behind Caroline and yanking her hair. “What a rosy life you must lead.”
She feels a sharp sting in the side of her neck, then a flood of wooziness. Brief pain when she collapses.
She’s vaguely aware of being heaved up and over someone’s shoulder, of being alarmed by how her limbs won’t cooperate when she tries to fight back. She’s tossed in a trunk, encased in blackness.
Caroline fights it, the tiredness, her thoughts growing meandering and disorganized. When the engine rumbles to life underneath her, Caroline loses consciousness.
* * * * *
Caroline realizes she’s tied to a chair as soon as awareness returns.
She can hear voices murmuring, too soft for her to make out any words even when she strains. Caroline’s slumped over, pulling against the ropes. She’s definitely going to have some fun bruises tomorrow. Her head’s resting limply against her chest, and she stays as still as she can, barely opening her eyes while trying to get a good look at her surroundings.
Unfortunately, she seems to be in a pretty generic warehouse—grimy, smelly, cavernous, decorated with random overlapping graffiti.
She spots a tray of shiny, sharp medical instruments to her right.
Which is not ideal.
Caroline tests her bonds slowly, checking for any give or weakness. Any kind of opportunity. One of her captors has eagle eyes and notices her movements. She flinches when his voice booms out, “Sleeping beauty awakes!”
Damn it.
Caroline lifts her head, rolling her neck to work out the cramp that’s developed. “I prefer the modern Disney princesses, thank you.” She’s not the type to wait around for a handsome prince to come to her rescue.
She studies the guy who’d spoken. He’s got steel-grey hair and tanned skin, thick biceps. His face doesn’t show even a hint of emotion, and he doesn’t acknowledge she’d spoken. She’d guess he’s a pro, probably some variety of ex-military, likely expensive. Caroline hears the clomp of heavy boots and twists her head to see some familiar faces joining the party.
Moderately damaged familiar faces, but she’s not sorry about that.
“So about that ransom,” Caroline begins hopefully. “Twenty-five million, was it?”
The guy who’d taken a brick to the face grunts, “Thirty now. For our trouble.”
Caroline can admit that’s fair.
“I get it. Plastic surgery’s not cheap. Not that I’ve had any work done, despite what the tabloids might claim. I’m only twenty-seven. Of course my boobs look fantastic in a bikini.”
No one even cracks a smile.
“Okay, so you’re not interested in jokes. We could discuss the fact that it’s super gross that people follow me around the world and stalk me with long-lens cameras. Am I not entitled to take a vacation?”
No response.
Caroline sighs, shifting in her chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. “Tough crowd.”
Spike drags a second chair over, sitting down and resting a booted foot on her opposite knee. “Thirty million dollars. I have a list of six prisoners that I need to be released from the Super Max. And I want something from the Forbes Industries Vault. The subterranean one that most of your employees don’t know about.”
Caroline tips her head back, considering. Thirty million dollars, no big deal. The prisoners might be hard to arrange, but she’s got connections. She knows exactly who she’d need to bribe. She can always scoop them up later, wrap ‘em in a pretty little bow and leave them on the steps of city hall.
The Vault though? That’s not happening. She’s going to have to figure out how they even know about it, who else might have bought the info, but that’s a problem for later.
“How about fifty million dollars and a couple of extra prisoners? Maybe someone from the asylum?”
Spike leans over, her hand drifting over the tray of instruments. She plucks up one with a serrated edge, twirling it through her fingers. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and getting everything your little heart desires, but this isn’t a negotiation.”
She leans forward, resting the blade against the dip between Caroline’s collarbones. She taps it against Caroline’s skin with each carefully enunciated word, “Money. Prisoners. Vault.” She pulls back, gives the instrument another spin. “That’s my only offer. You can say yes, and we’ll give you a phone, so you’re servants can start arranging things. Or, we can do this the hard way.”
She doesn’t insult Caroline’s intelligence by spelling out what the hard way would entail.
Caroline swallows, straightens her spine. “No one gets in my vault.”
Spike sighs in faux disappointment, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. “The hard way it is, then.”
Caroline closes her eyes, holds her breath, waits for the first cut to come.
It doesn’t come from where she’d expected.
Glass shatters from high above, showering down, leaving dozens of tiny nicks across her bare shoulders. She feels a rush of air before a body landing in front of her, knees bent.
A familiar man, one who’s been taking up way too much of Caroline’s free time, smirks at her, “Hello, love.”
Caroline gapes at him, and he pivots, backing up until her bent knees brush the back of his calves. She sees few bright flashes, but his back obscures her view of what’s happening. Whatever he’s doing, it’s painfully loud. Popping sounds interrupt shouts and screams of pain, and heavy thuds ring out. Caroline cringes, tucking her ear against her shoulder in an attempt to muffle the cacophony.
Silence, when it comes, scant moments after the chaos began, is jarring. Caroline leans as far to the side as she can, eyes widening when she spots the pile of bodies. She watches as the man, who she doesn’t know if she can call her rescuer since at this point he might also be planning on ransoming her, yanks a handful of zip cuffs from his pocket.
He moves swiftly and with grace, seemingly very at home his body and aware of its capabilities. Caroline’s eyes narrow, mind whirling as he secures her attackers, and she tries to assimilate this new information. He pulls off his leather gloves when he’s done, returning to her side. His expression grows regretful, and his fingertips brush her shoulders, skimming over the cuts and scrapes there. “Sorry about these. The skylight was the best entry point. Make sure you clean them up, hmm?”
He steps passed her, and Caroline feels him make quick work of her handcuffs. She hears the snick of a knife unsheathing and stiffens, but he only uses it on the ropes that bind her legs and torso. Caroline shakes them off, stands hesitantly.
“Okay,” she says, crossing her arms and turning until they’re once more face to face, separated by the metal chair. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”
“I’m afraid I’m not yet ready for you to know my identity. In due time, I promise.”
Caroline sucks in a sharp breath, her teeth grinding together. “Um, how about no?”
He blinks, and Caroline steps a little closer. They’ve always met in the dark, and he’d purposely stuck to the shadows as he’d teased and tossed questions at her. She’s never been this close to him. His eyes are blue, his lashes annoyingly long in a way men never appropriately appreciate. He wears a black mask, covering from the top of his forehead to his upper lip. His hair is slicked back, but she thinks it might be on the lighter side, given the shade of his stubble.
He clears his throat and shifts his weight, but he doesn’t step back or shy away. “I… I beg your pardon?”
“I have had a garbage day. It was long, it was boring, I had to argue over things I know I’m right about, with people who think I’m a bimbo and spend way too much time trying to look down my tops. My dinner got tossed aside when goons r us scooped me up. I love this dress, and it’s ruined. I’m bleeding. I don’t know where my shoes are. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and I want to go home!” she’s shouting when she’s done ranting, out of breath.
“Right.” Her rescuer, she’s decided on the term now, shoves the chair aside. He steps forward until his feet bracket hers, wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline grips his biceps, too shocked to admonish this rude invasion of her space. “Hold on. Step up onto my feet.”
She throws her hands up in frustration, “Hello? Did anything I just said sink in?”
His lips, which she’s now noticing are very nice, full and soft looking, compress. She’s pretty sure he’s trying to swallow a laugh. “I heard every word. I’m trying to assist in getting you home. In service of that, if you could please step up onto my feet and hold on.”
His right arm rises, and Caroline recognizes the device in his hand. She’s about to ask him if he’s seriously rescuing her with a device he’d stolen from her but thinks better of it.
He’d stolen the grappling hook from a vigilante who rocks a rose pink leather catsuit, not from Caroline Forbes. It would have been a monster slip, a true testament to how rattled she is from the day’s events that she’d almost blurted out her secret identity to a guy with questionable motives and an unknown name.
Instead, she smiles tightly, loops her arms around his neck, and gingerly steps onto his heavy boots. “For future reference,” she says sweetly, “I generally only like following orders in the bedroom.”
The strangled choking noise he makes as they hurtle upward is immensely satisfying.
* * * * *
Two days later, Caroline’s on her couch watching news footage of a gala she’d been supposed to attend. She’d had a great dress, red and scandalous, all ready to go, but trying to cover her scabby shoulders with makeup had made her look like she’d contracted some kind of infectious skin issue.
She’d sent her regrets and a fat check, resigned herself to a solo evening in her comfy sweats. On her TV, a society reporter’s chattering away about the guest she’d just finished talking to, a lech who’s at least smart enough to hire a publicist good enough to hide his dealings with loan sharks. She trails off in the middle of a sentence, fingertips coming up to press at her earpiece.
The reporter looks right at the camera, excitement on her face. “I’ve just been given some breaking news! A surprise guest has arrived, all the way from the UK. Klaus Mikaelson has shied away from public life since his messy exit from his father’s corporation five years ago. He’s built his own tech firm from the ground up. Buzz had been building since they announced their intention to go public. Let’s see if we can get a few words.”
Bored with the fawning, Caroline’s just about to switch channels. She knows all about Klaus’ Mikaelson’s company. Blurbs about it have been showing up in the intelligence reports she has complied since he’d lured a pair of promising engineers from FI’s Paris offices.
She’s planning on investing in his IPO because he might have scummy HR policies, but his business is sound.
There haven’t been many pictures of him available; apparently, he’d hardly been a social butterfly even when he’d been welcome in the family fold. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or so in the ones Caroline’s seen, in which he’d been gangly and angular and sporting a terrible haircut.
The image changes, swinging to the red carpet before Caroline can grab the remote. She pauses, impressed because Klaus Mikaelson has grown up nicely. She might be distracted by the flawless fit of his tux, which Caroline knows can cover a world of sins, so she leans closer as the camera pans up to his face.
And promptly drops her wine class.
The blue eyes. That smile, the dimple it carves into his stubbled cheek. She’d brushed her lips over that cheek barely more than forty-eight hours ago when she’d thanked him for what he’d done for her.
Klaus Mikaelson had accompanied her home the other night, had neatly deflected her probing questions, his amusement never turning to exasperation at Caroline’s dogged persistence.
She’d seriously considered inviting him into her home. She’d told herself it was only in search of more information, but a tiny part of her, the one that was unfailingly honest and sometimes gets her in trouble, had admitted her rescuer intrigued her, even without a name.
Well. Now she has one. A plan forms rapidly, and Caroline scrambles for her phone, digging it out of her couch cushions. She taps the screen, connecting a call to Bonnie. “Bon? Sorry to bug you when you’re off the clock. But I need you to find someone for me.”
She stands, walking into her bedroom as she explains what she needs.
Bonnie’s a genius, well worth the exorbitant salary Caroline pays her. She gets the address within an hour.
* * * * *
Caroline drops a rope onto the terrace of Klaus’ apartment, slips down with barely a whisper of sound, landing lightly. She hugs the side of the building, inching over to the open French doors. She’s fully suited up, hair tightly controlled, and mask on. She eases her foot over the threshold, eyes darting around.
Ugh, of course, he has excellent taste.
Caroline likes light and airy, fun patterns and textures. But she can appreciate the sumptuousness of Klaus’ living room. It’s done up in burgundies and neutrals, hints of gold. There’s a buttery leather sofa facing a fireplace, thick carpets that muffle the sounds of her boots as she walks further in. She can imagine a pleasant night in front of a crackling fire, curled up on the couch when the weather turns cold.
But she’s getting ahead of herself.
Her nose twitches, picking up the smell of curry, cardamom, and turmeric.
She hears a door click shut, whirls to find Klaus, barefoot and still dressed up from The Gala, though he’s ditched the jacket and tie. He leans against the now-closed doors to the terrace. He smiles at her warmly, “Hello, Caroline.”
Which answers one of her most pressing questions.
Caroline yanks her mask off, tossing it aside. “I realize this is going to give you déjà vu, but what exactly is happening here?”
Klaus pushes off from the door, ambles towards her, studying her reaction carefully. Caroline doesn’t flinch away or retreat. “I have a proposition for you. And I have dinner. Takeaway from that place you visited the other day when your evening plans were… interrupted. I even got the mango lassi.”
Caroline narrows her eyes, “I have weapons, you know. Way more than you’d think, given how tight this outfit is.”
He laughs, a low husky sound that Caroline knows would be easy to get addicted to. “I’m sure you do. I’m not worried about you using them on me. I only want you to hear out my proposal. You can leave anytime you wish.”
She wonders if it’s stupid to believe him, but she does. He’d had the upper hand two days ago, had no trouble dispatching the group that had taken her. If he had nefarious intentions, he could have picked up right where they left off with the torture.
Caroline’s learned to trust her instincts. They’re telling her she’s safe.
She tugs her hair out of its elastic, loosens her collar slightly, pulling the zipper down a few inches. “Mind lending me something to wear? This totally isn’t designed for sitting for long periods.”
Klaus directs her to a guestroom, gathers a few things of his for her to wear. When she gets to the dining room, she finds he’s arranged the food on gleaming platters and lit candles. Her mango lassi, in its plastic cup, looks wildly out of place.
Caroline refuses to find it endearing.
At least until she’s confirmed that her instincts are correct.
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stitch1830 · 3 years ago
Text
Bets
Happy Mondangst! Here's some angsty Kantoph :)
......
“Da.”
“That’s right, baby girl!” he cheered in his most ridiculous baby voice. “Da da! Da da!”
Lin giggled in her father’s arms, and Toph jokingly scoffed at the two from the couch. She lay on her back with her hands behind her head, enjoying the vibrations of the two through the ball of her foot that she kept firmly on the ground. “You two are giving me a headache.”
“C’mon, Toph! It’s Lin’s first word, how can you hate this?”
“First off, she’s babbling. It’s not even words yet. Second, the fact that she’s making ‘D’ sounds instead of ‘M’ is the other reason.” she explained simply. “If she says ‘Dada’ before ‘Mama,’ that’s betrayal right there.”
“Sorry, Angel. I just have that effect on women, I guess.”
“Gross,” she complained, but pointed a smile at him, and she felt his heart quicken ever so slightly and his voice let out a quiet chuckle at their antics.
And when his gaze turned back to Lin, Toph could feel through the earth how at peace he was at that moment. Complete adoration for their baby, and she silently laughed to herself at the thought of him having to deal with Lin as a teenager. Oh, she would have him wrapped around her finger for all of eternity, Toph just knew it.
His voice broke up her thoughts. “Hey, what if we had a little competition?”
Toph said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue. “What if we compete to find out who Linny walks to first?” he asked.
“What are the stakes?”
“If I win, we start trying for another baby.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she laughed.
“And if you win, Lin’s our only perfect little girl.”
“And if she doesn’t walk to either of us??”
“Then we let fate and destiny take over,” he answered rather smugly.
Toph smirked and sat up from her position, ready to playfully protest this silly competition. “You realize that she’s gonna walk to you, right?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Right,” she responded sarcastically. “Lin, the little Daddy’s girl who shares the same birthday as her Baba and whose first words are gonna be ‘Dada’ and ‘Baba.’”
“Mama could be a close third,” he defended.
“Yeah, sure. I’m going to shake on a bet I’m bound to lose.”
“Just a little fun,” he replied, and she could hear the grin in his voice. “Obviously we’ve got time, but, I don’t know. I think it could be fun!”
“You and I have two very different definitions of fun,” she teased.
“But it’s harmless!”
“Harmless?” she laughed. “I could end up fat and pregnant at the end of this!”
“Only if you want to,” he added.
“So this isn’t even a bet at all,” she commented. “It’s just fake stakes on the table.”
She felt him shrug. “Bit of pride on the line, I suppose. What do you say?”
Toph wanted to continue berating him and teasing him, but his heart sang whenever Lin made a noise or reached out for something, and he adored playing little games like this with her. Perhaps deep down in a place that she barely allowed to admit to herself, she could imagine them having another baby. Even if Lin was almost 6 months old, she thought that maybe, just maybe, a family of four would be nice. And when Lin giggled at her father once again, Toph’s resolve to say no to those two disappeared.
Spirits, they had her whole heart, and she couldn’t help but shake her head as she smiled and extended her hand out to him.
“It’s only a bet if we shake on it.”
His silly cheer caused Lin to giggle more, and after he shook Toph’s hand to signify the start of the bet, he playfully kissed each knuckle before Toph mildly complained as she tried to free herself from his grasp.
~~~
They sat on her living room floor, engaged in small talk while they paid attention to Lin’s every move. The elephant koi in the room became a semi-permanent resident in the Beifong house, but everyone learned to live with it, Toph especially.
Sokka carefully treaded every conversation as he supported Lin to standing on her own two feet. Every now and again, his gaze would turn up to Toph to catch her expression. Today it was unreadable, but she sat on the floor with her legs out and leaned back on her arms, a sign of openness.
That was a good sign, right?
The warrior never knew what was good and what wasn’t anymore, because everything reminded them of him. Of Kanto.
And it was unfair, because Toph deserved to go about her life without having to be constantly reminded of the man she loved and lost to a crazy person. But there was no escape; Kanto was at her place of work, at their home, and he was there whenever Lin moved or breathed or learned something new.
None of that seemed to matter to the universe, however, and Toph and Lin and everyone else that loved Kanto lived with the reminder like chronic pain: constant, relentless.
Still, Toph’s body language was more positive than usual, so Sokka took the opportunity to strike up another small conversation.
“So,” he began by clearing his throat. “What do you and Lin have planned for the rest of the day?”
His friend shrugged in response and a nonchalant wave. “Eh, same old shit, Sokka. Maybe I’ll take her to the park. It is a nice day out.”
“How come you only call me Sokka, now?”
Toph shot him a confused look. “Because it’s your name??”
The man rolled his eyes to himself then said, “Well, yeah. I just mean you almost always called me ‘Meathead’ or ‘Snoozles’ or ‘Captain Boomerang.’”
A quiet scoff fell from Toph’s breath, and she dug her knuckles into her earthen floor. “Yeah, well nicknames are for fun times, and I haven’t been in a jovial mood as of late—”
“Toph I just mean—”
“So forgive me if I don’t feel the need to call you by some dumb nickname that reminds me of all the other stupid ones I called him.”
Sokka shut his mouth, but still held onto a bouncing Lin and stared at Toph. Her expression contorted into one of regret, and she let out a tired sigh.
“I’m sorry, Sokka. That was rude.”
“No, Toph, it’s okay,” he reassured her. “I just—”  Sokka paused before he continued. What he wanted was to help his friend and hoped she would return to her old self soon.
But the idea seemed silly after a second thought. How could she go back to her old self? Going back wasn’t an option, only forward, to a different Toph Beifong who loved and lost and learned to adapt to this difficult change.
So instead of saying I just want to help you get back to your old self, he amended his statement. “I just want to help you.”
“I know,” she sighed again as she moved to lie down on the ground. “I know you’re all trying to help.”
And Toph did know that. The whole group seemed bent over backwards in helping her through this mess of her life, and she not only wanted, but needed their help. However, figuring out things that did help seemed to be a challenge, for it all required talking or thinking about him.
She really couldn’t do that at this point, not even nine months after his death.
Saying his name sent her down a spiral of thoughts of longing and regret, the feeling so strong that it tempted her to visit their bedroom again. But she hadn’t stepped into that room since she was dragged out by Sokka, because she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to leave it a second time.
Instead of visiting their shared bedroom or speaking her dead almost-fiancé’s name or figuring out what could possibly help her through this, she lay on the ground, focusing on the earth’s humming while blocking out all other erratic and uneven vibrations. It was soothing, being completely one with the earth and ignoring everything else. Her mind wasn’t racing, her heart wasn’t hurting, and she felt a feeling that strangely resembled tranqui—
“Toph?”
Her focus was broken, and as annoyed as she was, Toph responded to her friend and asked, “What is it?”
“Are you okay?”
“Stupid question.”
“I just mean—”
“Mama!”
Lin’s interruption pulled Toph further from the earth, and so she waved her hand in the air and exclaimed, “Mama’s right here, Lin. Just wallowing in self-pity as a widow does, although I’m not even sure I can call myself that.”
“Toph,” Sokka began, but Toph continued her useless ramble. “Probably not, since he didn’t even ask me to marry him. Kind of a requirement to be in the mopey widow club, don’t you think? Pathetic, really, I don’t even have a dead fiancé, just a dead baby daddy.”
“Toph—”
“You know what, guess it doesn’t matter I could just—”
“Toph!”
Sokka’s exclamation startled her, but she didn’t move from her spot. She waited for him to continue with whatever was so important to interrupt her self-deprecating monologue, but he didn’t speak again.
Instead, she felt little, uneven, and heavy footsteps toddle toward her. Toph sat upright in an instant, completely shocked at the sensation of Lin walking.
“Go Lin!” Sokka cheered.
Toph cheered as well and held her hands out excitedly to catch her daughter. “C’mere, Lin! You got it!”
And with a few babbles and shouts for Mama, Lin made her way into Toph’s arms.
The earthbender pulled Lin in for a tight hug and smothered her cheek with kisses. “You did it, baby girl! You took your first steps!”
“She’s a natural, Toph! Gonna be running tomorrow,” Sokka teased.
Toph grinned at the thought, and moved to balance Lin’s tiny feet on her knee. She felt Lin squirm in her arms and crane her neck, as if she was looking for someone.
“Dada.”
And with a single exclamaion of Lin’s favorite word, Toph’s heart shattered just as quickly as it soared a moment ago.
…….
Sokka’s grin faded slowly with Toph’s as he watched her realize what Lin wanted. In a second, one of the greatest feelings and feats of Toph’s baby girl turned into a situation of pure grief. And All he wanted was for his best friend to have a single fucking moment not be ruined by the memory of losing Kanto.
But that was impossible. Every accomplishment was tainted with this memory, and there was nothing to do but accept that harsh reality.
He watched Toph suddenly become overwhelmed by the grief. She bit her quivering lip as she combed through Lin’s hair over and over, fixating on a few curly strands at the top of her head.
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, all the while Lin kept asking for her dad. Sokka was about to intervene, but then Toph let out a quiet breath and answered Lin.
“Yeah, Lin. Dada would be so proud of you right now.” She formed a small, sorrowful smile at Lin while tears fell down her cheeks. “I’d rub it in his face, too.” Toph choked out a chuckle, then continued, “But Baba isn’t here anymore, baby girl. It’s just you and me.
“Don’t worry, kiddo. All your aunts and uncles will be around to bother us, especially this Meathead over there, okay?”
When she pointed a finger at Sokka, Lin turned to see, and smiled at him. And Sokka found himself grinning back at Lin for only a second. For when he turned his gaze to Toph, he saw her tear-stricken face and any signs of happiness left Sokka’s face.
He saw Toph hastily wipe at her eyes, then stood up with Lin in her arms. “Thanks for uh, coming by, Sokka. But Lin and I are gonna spend some time together alone.”
She walked out into the backyard before he could even protest.
Sokka didn’t move from his spot, however. He just sat there, thinking and wondering and hoping there was something he could do to help his friend. But she was a silent sufferer, carrying the burden of grief everywhere she went and barely let on what hurt the most about it all. As a bystander, it hurt Sokka to see her shoulder it all. What was he to do, though?
He let out a tired sigh. Sometimes there was nothing to do but be there, even if it made him feel useless.
……
“You’re  a terrible listener.”
Sokka ignored her jab and sat down next to her, Lin bouncing gleefully in her spot in front of her mother. He gave her elbow a light nudge and replied, “I know, but I know you don’t actually want to be alone.”
“I just said—”
“Listen, Toph. We don’t have to talk about it, about any of it. But you’re like me, okay? I don’t like talking about what’s bothering me, but that doesn’t mean solitude is the answer.”
Toph bit her lip as she considered the offer, but made no outright objections to his presence. So they sat there, silent and contemplative about everything and nothing in particular.
It wasn’t until minutes of silence (and little babbles and single words from Lin) that Toph finally spoke. She chose her words carefully, as if saying the wrong thing would send her down a rabbit hole of despair. But Sokka watched her and steadied her with a reassuring hand to her shoulder.
Toph gave a sad smile as she spoke and played with Lin’s wavy hair. “We, uh, we made a stupid bet.
“He liked these silly games and it made him so fucking happy, I didn’t think twice about them. And it gave us a reason to be competitive, and you know how we would get with this shit. Still, they were harmless.”
She hastily wiped her eyes then continued, “But then he wanted to have a bet on who Lin would walk to first, and he said that if Lin walked to him, we’d try for another baby. If she walked to me, no more kids.”
Toph let out a sorrowful chuckle as she slightly hung her head low and let the tears fall in her lap. Sokka’s eyes grew misty at the thought. A silly bet turned into a reminder for Toph, and it felt cruel.
But then Toph took in a deep breath and brought her head back up, pointing her gaze toward the warrior. “You know what’s even crazier? I was gonna let him win. Under the illusion I was upset, of course.”
Sokka softly chuckled at that.
Lin cried out and turned to face Toph, who gently rubbed her daughter’s chubby cheeks. Sokka still sat there, hand on Toph’s shoulder, and watched through his blurred vision his best friend continue to open up to him.
She sighed again. “I’d let him win all the silly games if it meant—”
Her sentence was left unfinished, but nothing else needed to be said. Toph pulled in Lin to an embrace, breathing deeply into her hair as the gravity began to weigh heavy on the pair.
Toph mindlessly played with Lin’s soft curls. “But I guess all bets are off, or I win them all now.
“I don’t feel like the winner, though, Sokka.”
Sokka’s grip tightened on Toph’s shoulder as his sign of support, because he truly had no words. All he could do was sit and stare and hope that there would be something on the horizon to look forward to.
And yet, in that very same moment, he couldn’t help but silently admire Toph’s strength. Her ability to carry on and raise Lin while facing practically an insurmountable amount of grief was something that couldn’t be overlooked. He’d seen his friend show great feats of strength and resilience in the past, but in the back of his mind, he thought that perhaps this was the greatest one of all.
Still, he’d be damned if he was going to let her face this mountain on her own. So they sat there silently once again as Sokka’s hand remained on her shoulder, reminding her that he was there no matter what. He would be there to help her and to hold onto her through it all.
She deserved that. She deserved that and much more, but this was their reality. It would have to do.
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lazyneonrabbitt · 4 years ago
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Full moon meetings
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Werewolf!Daryl Dixon x Reader
You get stuck in the woods, surrounded by walkers when something saves your life.
Running from walkers was terrible. The only upside here was that you were alone and you could hide way easier than with a group. The other bad part was that it was currently late at night and you had to leave most of your stuff at your campsite because of the small herd that woke you up. The slightly better part was the full moon brightening the area which helped you spot a cabin up ahead to hide in until the walkers passed.
You rushed in and blocked the door behind you, waiting for the herd to pass. When it finally did you carefully scouted the way you came from and backtracked towards your campsite with the hopes that everything was still fine. On your way back you managed to avoid running into another small group of walkers but your camp was ravaged. You could find two knives that you took with you but the bag of food you had to leave behind was trampled completely. Now you were stuck in the woods, alone and with no food.
Your group had ditched you after you've gotten in a fight with someone and they all chose their side instead of yours. You sighed and dug around for anything that was still good enough to take with you and left for the cabin again. Memories of the fight that got you into this mess kept repeating in your head, causing you to not notice a ditch that you casually stepped into and slipped with a shriek, alarming all the walkers you so desperately tried to avoid. This time you didn't have enough time to escape and ended up surrounded, slowly taking down stumbling walkers but it wasn't long before you had them all getting too close too fast and there was no way out of this for you this time.
Not until you heard more growling, but a different kind then walkers' growls. You cowered down and hid your head between your knees, just waiting for it all to be over with as the growling became louder and the shine of the moon seemed to disappear underneath you. There was more growling and a lot of movement but nothing seemed to be directed at you and it surprised you how long you were actually surviving this whole thing. When the walkers' growls died down and the movements seemed to stop, the moon shone on the ground near you again and you carefully lifted your head to look at what happened, only to touch your nose against something wet before opening your eyes. You jumped up with a scream and ran off in the opposite direction, frantically looking back to see a giant creature standing among the corpses of the walkers that surrounded you just now. It didn't seem to move as you slowed your run and rounded it from a large distance, back on your way to the cabin to hole up in for the night, hoping the creature wasn't gonna attack you when it got hungry again. Finally back at the cabin you sat down and let out all the anger and frustration you had bottled up and cried into the murky bed that sat in the far corner. A group of walkers got in the way of his search for food. These nights were best for hunting and he always brought back the largest catch for the community. the ones who knew never spoke about it, and the ones who didn't never seemed to question it and somehow all accepted that the moonlight helped seeing late at night so it was easier to make multiple kills in one night. The group of walkers was a big one, but split after a noise somewhere further down into the woods which he also decided to follow. He came across a small campsite with only one sleeping bag and minimal supplies when another small group passed through, ruining everything in sight. He decided to watch from a distance to see what the walkers were fixated on and after a while of observing he ended on a survivor in the middle of another small section of the herd, surrounded and unable to get out by themselves. He watched as the person gave up and crawled down. As if his body moved on its own he jumped in and started gnawing away at the walkers, clawing and biting at them until all of them were down. He stepped away from the girl and sniffed around her, trying to smell for other humans or any sign of a walker bite but he found none. While he was busy she had raised her head and bumped her nose against his and jumped up with a shriek. He stepped back in confusion and stared as she ran off into the distance. He stalked her back to the cabin and decided to go back to hunting after seeing she got in safe.Normally he'd store his kills in the cabin but for now he'd have to think of something else.
You woke up later, your eyes still hurt from crying so it took a while longer to get adjusted to the darkness. When you were able to see properly again you checked out the cabin again, better this time now that you were safe and rested. While staring at the far wall you dragged yourself out of bed, stepping on something and dropping to the floor. Said something moved. "What the.. Shit!!" You called out as you tried to get away from the thing that you ran into earlier. It was large, covered in fur, and ..snoring? No, that wasn't a snore. That was more of a huff. Shit, you woke it up. It grumbled as it opened an eye to see what happened and saw you on the floor, staring in fear. It decided to get up and move further away from the bed and plop down on the floor again, keeping an eye on you until it had settled and closed them again to continue its sleep. Carefully getting back up you to make it back to the bed you spotted something near the door. Taking a better look you saw it was a pile of animals, not chewed down or torn apart but seemingly skillfully hunted. From what you could see there wasn't a lot of blood on them but their necks were clawed open or twisted in a gross way so you stopped looking and lied back down. Rest didn't really come anymore so when it was getting brighter outside you carefully snuck out of the cabin with all your stuff and left without waking the thing that accompanied you.
"I'm heading back to my group now, bye." You whispered softly as you closed the cabin door and walked off to what you hoped was your next safe stop and some food.
After what felt like an eternity you managed to catch a fish to fry and finally eat something. You took a break at the riverside and moved on after you had rested enough. You walked for a bit when you ended up on a road with a sign telling you about a place called Alexandria, a safe space according to the writing. It felt like a dream come true and you quickly made your way towards where the sign told you to go and close to sundown you finally arrived at the gates. You were quickly called after by someone on top of the gates. They asked you all kinds of questions  after someone opened one part of the gates before letting you in. A small group had gathered already and a guy named Aaron had given you some water and was talking to you together with another guy who introduced himself as Rick. He was a lot less nice than Aaron but you understood where his concerns came from. "She's fine. Quit bein' harsh on her." A gruff voice spoke from behind them. A guy with long shaggy hair moved into the group and you tried your hardest to remember if you ever saw him before but you had no idea who he was. "Ya said ya were goin' back to yer group. Why're ya here alone?" The two other men looked at him with confused looks on their faces but you tried to go along with what he said. "Yeah, I don't have a group. Thanks again for saving my ass. I didn't want to be bothering you any more than I already did." You said apologetic, hoping you came across convincing enough. "S'alright. good ya found this place." He added before going into a discussion with the other two, just out of your earshot. The man named Rick came back and brought the news that you were accepted into their community as long as you posed no threat to anyone and pulled your weight in the group. You agreed to all the terms he gave you and led you to an empty home where you could live for tonight. They all understood you were tired and left you alone for the time being. After you cleaned yourself up you went to sit down on your porch to take in your surroundings. It all felt surreal, it looked like this place had never even seen a walker at all.
"Hey, you." The guy from before made his way over to your porch and sat down next to the bench, keeping an acceptable distance to not scare you off. You welcomed him and moved down to sit closer so you could talk easier. "You saved me last night, didn't you." You asked quietly, not sure if it was something okay to ask about. He nodded and thanked you for not freaking out about it. "S'alright. My name's Daryl."
"Thank you for saving my ass, really. And for  saying what you did when I got here." You had introduced yourself before at the gate and now you talked about how you lost your group and ended up in the area. It was clear you were skilled enough to survive on you own as long as you didn't get caught off guard. "So, am I allowed yo ask about last night?" You wondered carefully, earning a smile and a nod. He told you about his hunting trips during the full moons and the further his story went, the more he wondered how you were so calm about it all. "I guess I have a soft spot for big monsters that are nice to people? I used to watch old monster movies for days on end before al of this." You turned away shyly. "I gotta admit, I've always been a sucker for werewolves." Saying that out loud made you want to curl up and disappear, but instead of being answered with something hurtful or being laughed at, you got a genuine smile and a "Glad I saved yer ass, then." He replied casually. "Finally someone who ain't scared of that side." The sad tone in his voice was hard to miss now and you felt bad for him. You gave him your biggest smile and leaned closer to him. "I like both of your sides."
You were new here and it was all still a little scary, but you knew it was all going to be alright with your big, not so bad wolf at your side.
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furiousgoldfish · 4 years ago
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How to cut ties with a guilt-tripper
So if you're like me, you probably ran across few people who seem very enthusiastic to talk to you and are overly sweet but the second they're not getting what they want, they turn agressive, nasty, and begin with guilt tripping. It's usually after they go too far, say something you know a decent person wouldn't say, or show something you know is a giant red flag, that you realize you need to break ties with them. For the most part, this includes a confrontation, and you can tell they're not going to take it well, you're going to get guilt tripped, they're gonna turn nasty and try to hurt you.
I've written this script for how to get thru this conversation with minimal damage to you. It's not super satisfying, you don't get to tell them off, but it has proved effective in ending their manipulation techniques.
First thing, you need to take a break from them to clear your mind and be completely sure in your narrative: You want this person to leave you alone, you know what they did and said and no amount of gaslighting can change it, you're upset with them for reasons, and you can't be convinced of thier good intentions anymore. Once you're collected and calm, you can go and explain to them that they hurt you, you don't find this acceptable, and you're upset.
Now, since they're a guilt tripper, they're going to immediately retalliate with 'you actually hurt me worse, you don't know what I've been thru', you're hurting them by calling them out, even you taking a break might be framed as aggressive and hurtful behaviour. At this point, even if you know they're lying to put you on the defensive, just apologize. 'It wasn't my intention to hurt you, but I recognize that I did, and I am sorry.'
Now, you can build that further into your narrative and say. 'Since we both hurt each other, it's okay to conclude we're not a good fit as friends."
Now this is likely to upset them, because you've used their manipulation to build your own narrative, and their point was to bully you into submission. They might get angry at you for apologizing, and backpedal with quickly forgiving you, or pretending they weren't 'hurt that bad', or even completely gaslighting you and claiming you don't hurt each other at all. This is where you can also be sure that cutting ties with them is a right thing to do, because gaslighting you like that is a red flag.
You can continue with 'I don't feel safe talking to you anymore, I don't want to put me, or you, thru something like this again. We'd both be happier people with friends who don't cause this amount of distress to each other.'
Now at this point they're really going to get the idea that you want to stop talking to them, and they will either keep gaslighting you about how it's all a misunderstanding and you're fine, or appeal to your sense of obligation and remind you of all of the good times and demand to know if this means nothing to you. You can allow 'Yeah it was good while it lasted' and aplogize for whatever obligation you now 'can't fulfill', and you're sorry for disappointing them. If they start guilt tripping you on how you're the only person they have and how they feel abandoned and wronged, just apologize again and maintain the narrative 'You see we trigger bad things in each other, I don't want to hurt you any more.'
Apologizing to a someone who hurt you doesn't feel right, but the message you're sending here is: "Pretending to be hurt will only get you an apology, not control over the situation, not control over my next actions, and you're only giving me more reasons to leave."
Now if they reach to gaslighting and insisting you just 'understood everything wrong' and 'this is only happening because your perception is damaged, agree with them. Say "you're right, and you shouldn't have to put up with someone like me. You deserve better. I'm awful for you."
Now this is again sending them a message that any attacks at you will only further your own narrative, and they're likely to quickly stop attacking you, or take this as a way to change the narrative to paint you as a villain. And you should let them. At this point you are lying, and you are saying anything just to get rid of them, while being fully aware you're saying complete nonsense.
Guilt trippers that reach this stage of backpedaling, changing the narrative every few seconds, gaslighting and attacking, are likely to be covert narcissists, and they will not be able to leave you alone without painting themselves as the biggest victim, and changing the entire narrative so that you were, the entire time, using and manipulating them, you were toxic, and they are now actually cutting ties with you, because you are bad. We want them to do this because otherwise they will fly into narcissistic rage and you only want to get rid of them anyway, it's obvious at this point that their narrative is completely self-serving and can change any second, based on what they want from you. So this is why you're opening the door for them to act as your victim, they will see it as a way out that doesn't make them feel scorned, and they're likely to go on about how awful you are; in fact, they'll try to find a weak spot to hurt, they'll attempt to trigger you and provoke you to defend yourself.
Do not defend yourself. No matter how heinous and gross and hurtful and wrong the accusation is, only say 'Yep, I agree, you couldn't be more right.' This will let them know that all their attacks are useless, and they're not getting to you. They'll very soon get bored of your complete apathy and accept that they can't get anything from you anymore.  If you at any point defend yourself, it will create an opening for them to know where to attack you, it will immediately get worse.
This is also why you have to stay calm and collected, and sure in your own version of events. They will try to push you into an emotional state, because it's way easier to manipulate and hurt you that way. Sometimes, if they know how to trigger you, they will manage to draw your emotions, and this is not a failure on your side. We're all human, we get hurt when someone we thought to be our friend acts this way. You never take responsibility when someone manages to hurt you. They set out to hurt another human being. They're 100% in the wrong.
After the guilt tripper finally gives up, and blocks you out of frustration, talk to someone who you know will side with you. Even if you are completely self-assured, all these attacks at your sanity will get to you, and it's soothing to know you still have people who will not question your reality and care that you're safe. You also should feel fairly messed up from knowing you hung out with that nasty piece of work, and relieved you no longer have to. Ideally you would just block them without going thru this entire ordeal, but who out of us can do that? I never could. I need that final confirmation that I'm doing the right thing, and that gaslighting in the end sets me right. Normal people withdraw almost immediately after knowing someone no longer wishes to talk to them, and would never put you thru this mess.
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