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berriblossom · 3 months ago

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Oh, Great Divine!

☆| It's time for a SAGAU, more so a comforting one. Reader's gender is ambiguous and gender neutral, archons adore reader, in this sense the Nahida tag is platonic!|

☆ Tags/warnings! | Socially Aware Genshin AU, archons and people of Teyvat treat the reader as a god or heavenly figure, religious references (cathedral of Mondstat and Narukami/ Sangonomiya Shrines of Inazuma) some minor lore for reader, Reader is referred to as "Their Grace" or "My/Your Grace" and "The Great Divine" ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL!! anyway, enjoy.|

Within the lands or nations of Teyvat, for centuries the practice of worshipping an Archon was beyond common, more so for those who wish not to believe in spiritual practices concerning the gods of each element are more on the rare side to find. However even if such existed, there was one thing to never be doubted within the lands of Teyvat.

The Great Divine's presence over mortals and immortals alike.

The creation of Teyvat in many national mythos credits the sole ideas and creation to the Great Divine. Even the archons and the sources of their celestial names were blessed upon them by their divine grace. Depending on which nation you visit, some may say that their archon is specifically blessed by their grace.

In Mondstat, the nation of wind, song, freedom, wine, and bard's ballads, once every 100 years they celebrate the freedom blessed to them by Barbatos and the Great Divine. A tradition stretching for the last millennial to show the love and deeply routed affection given by its people and archon. Yes, Barbatos, or now the "drunken" bard known as Venti among his people. Every festival of a "New Eve" as they call it, is another 100 years for him to show his affection for his beloved divine. Despite his defiance to Celestia and the natural order placed after your departure, he still fully believes in your care and love for humans and archons alike. To Venti, whispering to the wind like he did with you thousands of years prior, even in his wind-spirit form. You'd sit together where now the great tree at Windrise and speak about the future of Teyvat, something despite having the authority over you simply spoke to him as:

"For what will come, Your nation will prosper and learn the true meaning of freedom and song..."

So to this day, he sits under that tree and thinks of the years since, missing your warmth from curling up in your hands as a wind spirit to laughing and humming beside you in his divine form. He has seen it for the last few hundred years, the art, songs, plays, books, and even food and weapons made in your name, and every hundred years he repeats the same. A small prayer from his soul is whispered into the wind as he tells his deep care and love for his dear grace. And the people of Mondstat no different, all gather at the great Cathedral and warmly sing about the Great Divine and Lord Barbatos as they place to wine, food, and gifts at the altar of your image. When alone Venti will sneak in and sit under your statue, missing the warmth of your hands but relishing the love in your image.

In Liyue, the nation of Geo, contracts, and the adepti, the greats divines are influenced by the first contract Rex Lapis made with them over 7000 years ago, even before Liyue was a fully combined nation. Zhongli remembers the conversation you two had, sharing a simple game of wit and tea. Then he was immature to your influence and power but now he relishes in it. Proudly in his vast historical knowledge, preaching his love and the power the great divine holds. How you could shape the sea with a flick of your wrist, how you've created mountains from your fingertips, how your vast knowledge is spread throughout teyvat as a bible to be studied and read over and over again. But mostly what he and all of Liyue celebrate is the contractable care and affection you give him and the people of Liyue.

This time around Liyue is a time spent every hundred of years a new eve of dawn as it is called, one Zhongli and his fellow adepti never get tired of. A time to give gifts of care to neighbors, friends, and even coworkers in the busy harbor. Even the Northland Bank celebrates by lowering interest on loans!

(But only for this amount of time and by the next New Eve of Dawn the Interest WILL reset)

But mainly it is a way to give worship to the Great Divine and their trust in Rex Lapis and his Adepti to protect and serve Liyue. Everything Zhongli has done was for your gratitude and divine love. So when a New Eve comes, he sits anywhere in Liyue, the mountains, hills, somewhere to overlook the harbor, and enjoys a warm cup of tea. Your favorite while imagining your smile as you talk, the games you'd two play. He watches his disciples and Apeti celebrate with gifts, food, and songs at your altar set around Liyue. He sips his tea and awaits your fated return, happy to share more memories and stories with you.

Within the land of Eternity, formerly transcience, Inazuma's style of celebration differs slightly from some nations. The Grand Narukami Shrine would hold a private ceremony, cleansing the sacred Sakura tree and your statue underneath, barhing the precious stone engravings with crisp clean water. Meanwhile the people if Inazuma would be celebrating on their own occasions, firewroks light into the clear sky, dancing ceremonies at the teahouse fill with guest.

However, the new electro archon herself sits alone at the top of Tebshukaku. Quietly walking down memeory lane in her mind. For the last five centuries of the New Eve of Dawn celebration, she'd sit in her space of Euthymia alone in solitude quietly sulking at the idea of your everlasting figure. How her and Makoto would chat down the lane of inazuma speaking about plans of you, speaking of your visions of the nation of electro, Makoto laughing at how embarrassed Ei used to be around you and your divinity. Now Ei smiles solemnly..

She knows now that she as archon must take the mantle, for in your teachings that it the goal of the heavenly principles you've left. Fated to return, she prays that you'd come to her first. She dreams and imagines in her meditations within her quiet Euthymia that you'd hold her. That her loneliness would be cured indefinitely. But for now she waits, with a plate of dango and some ofdly colored tea, shit eats alone as the fireworks set off atop Narukami island, she whispers a promise to herself and her nation on your honor.

"For it will be fate...my grace...you shall return to us...to eternity...we shall be reunited."

Far off in the lands of eternity, however, the island that formed the resistance sings and dances around the bonfire, the resistance army of Sangonomiya and Watatsumi laugh as they praise the late OmiKami, or the serpent god Orobashi. The fire dances as troops tell stories, shrine maidens sing and laugh, and her priestess sits while holding a book. She smiles softly. Kokomi looks above at the horizon and sees the corpse of their late god, she wishes silently to herself and for her ancestors to below the sea. That once the great spirit of life and forefather of the vishaps would return to bring life to the benevolent serpent. But for now, she sits alongside Gorou as they watch the troops enjoy the holiday.

Within Sumeru, however, and alongside it, Fontaine...the New Eve of Dawn has been on the academic calendar differently, which is how some older nations react. For those in the rainforest, it is a blessing of Lessor Lords Kusanali's birth. For the dessert, it is the bringing of a new promise for the scarlet sand kings doubted return. Within the nation of dendro, it is a holiday of now academic activities, no scholars shrouded in work, but a day off. The people worship by their own will and sit in taverns, bars, and cafes to drink mereily while chatting with friends. Some visit your altar within the Akademiya, and others pray at home.

Nahida sits on a branch of the great tree that houses the knowledge many wish to obtain, in her hands an ancient seed of fate, she herself has no memory or knowledge of where it came but holds ot and teasures its existence. For she has a kindling that it is tied to this divine spirit that is expected to awaken. From her small conversation with Apep, the seed is treasured. Hence, she holds it and feeds the growing plant bits of dendro elemental energy. She sighs as she watches the sun set and the cheers from the streets and grand bazars performances. Nilou must be dancing now, she thinks. She hums a small song while kicking her feet, her hands warm with caution. She may not know you yet, but she knows already... Your spirit and divine will watch for her and her nation. The goddess of wisdom has many questions for the great creator of this world, but for now, she just hums and sits happily, a great birthday gift indeed.

Meanwhile, in Fontaine, similarly, it is deemed a weekend off of work. Many go home, some go to the Opera to catch performances of the holiday, others read tabloids of the steambird that some random person in the court has the great divine in their basment all along. All fiction truthfully. Furina reads her book as she makes another plate of pasta macaroni. For the occasion, she bought extra special ragau to taste amazing. She dances around her kitchen listening to soft music. For years her mind would have doubted and even hated this day, anxious fears of disappointment and disapproval looks from her days as stabding archon. Would you have hated her? Did you think she failed fontaine and you? Was her a cursed human taking title of archon an insult to you? Furina had nightmares even of the prohecy and your return to see fontaine gone and underwater. But now, as the prophecy and fontaine were safe and out of fear, she ate and asked a good question this new century.

"What kind of pasta would their grace like..."

Soft rainfall drops onto the steps of the Palais Mermonia, the evening rain was forcasfed but welcomed, Neuvillette wrote on the papers softly, agreeing to a few celebratory events the Opera wanted to hold. Usually Lady Furina would be jumping for the task but here he was. Dread builded in his soul. This time of year brought many pains to Neuvillette.

A new century meant a new set of hundreds of years he gets to oulive humans, melusines maybe, but also the clock inches closer and closer to your return. Neuvillette spent early years of his lofe researching and discovering his species and kind for decades. Figuring that if you are the forefather and creator of vishaps and the sovereignty. Why was so many things done the way they were? Why ddi the power the gnosis and archons hold come from them? Why can't he understand your implications, even such his ancestors didn't wish to think against? What power do you hold and how did aid Fontaine in the end? He knew Focalor and Egeria spoke to you, even asking for forgiveness before your departure, so why? Neuvillette, places his pen downs and stands to look out the window of his office to look down at the streets of the Court of Fontaine, a glass of crisp water swirls in his hand. He sips slowly and sighs, coming to think.

"In this new century...please with it, may you come along too my grace."

In the nation of fire, victory, war and passion, raors could be heard from the stadium of flames as people of different tribes shouted and cheered the competitions down below. Surfing races, climbing achievements, conbat bouts, even break dancing competitions held. Mavuika sits at her throne above as her people cheer and celebrate, raising glasses, foods, gifts, and money even in your image. She slips away from the fesitivites to be alone in the speakers chambers, past the sacred flame, and into her personal get-away. Now empty, she stares at the famous wheel of the sun, Natlan has held for centuries, the same you blessed the first pyro archon with, as their rules of ruilibg were left in your favor. She smiles as she too holds her head high, similar to her ancestors before her.

She remebers before she was even archon, how her parents would tell stories of the Great divines influence, love, and power. That the spirit of victory belongs to the pyro archon yes, but the strength was given by you as well. She remembered your fave engraved in ancients temples and stones around Natlan and now some statues around the lands too. She knows too well her nation is blessed by your, not only for the peoples cheers and vitcories but the long-lasting stay they've had against the threat of the abyss thus far. Maybe when you return and ward off the abyssal threats for good, she top could ask something of you...for that she won't know until she sees you herself.

"Until we meet my grace...may your memeory burn eternal.. and your power live within my people."

-> Did i go overboard, yes...but eh...hoped you enjoy, and also i may make a small series out of this..who knows..

#genshin impact #berri bomb🍓#genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #acrhons #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #ei x reader #nahida x reader #furina x reader #Mavuika x reader #berri writes #sagau cult au #genshin impact sagau

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sabertoothwalrus · 7 months ago

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I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec

I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.

First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol

as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.

Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.

The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.

The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.

Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.

It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!

In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.

I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.

okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers

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calummss · 1 year ago

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dating 90s/00s eminem …

masterlist 𓆩♱𓆪

kim and hailie don’t exist in this universe

start and development of relationship

i definitely imagine him to take notice of you at one of the underground rap battles roughly 1992/1993

your friend who was interested in going dragged you along one night cause they were really into rap and hip hop

and there you saw him! the one and only marshall marthers destroying every opponent that stood before him

after the battles came to an end you were already attracted to him and tried to get to him to talk to him

here’s how i think it would go:

‘hey, i just wanted to tell you that you absolutely killed it on stage. it’s my first time here so i lack certain knowledge but i know enough to know that you have an incredible talent’

‘thank you. your first time? what’s your name?’

‘y/n’

‘eminem. marshall mathers’

i imagine you to awkwardly shake hands. like i know you’re in the detroit underground scene but neither of you knew how to proceed

‘i hope this won’t be a shot in the dark but can i give you my number?’ your mind literally racing

‘sure, i’ll give you a call if i’m interested’

THIS MAN TURNS AROUND AND DIALS YOUR NUMBER AND LETS YOU ANSWER!! turning around with a smirk and just straight up low key flirting with you

he was embarrassed to bring you to his home but you eventually just showed up one day cause he wasn’t returning calls—you reassured him that you didn’t care and let slip that you loved him no matter what

marshall was definitely a bit overwhelmed at first and took him like a minute to snap out of his trance because it was most likely the first time he truly felt loved, appreciated and cared for

you supported him and his music until he was eventually signed

everyone was confused why you stayed with a man who wrote violent lyrics especially about his wife so you had to explain over and over again that the wife was fictional

and everyone that truly knew marshall knew that he would never lay a hand on you. he would rather d!e than hurt you

three years after you meet you become pregnant and were scared he was going to leave (news flash he didn’t)

he reassured you that if you wanted to keep the baby that you two would figure it out and that he would and could never ever leave your side

you married quick and definitely rushed it but it proved to be the best decision you made including keeping the baby

this lead to the birth of your beautiful daughter—for some reason the name romy jane won’t leave my mind so i’ll just leave it at that

anyway you blink and stardom surrounds marshall

a few hiccups occurred during the relationship but nothing major and you always managed to talk things trough

what the relationship would include

his hand would alway be on your waist! no matter if you’re on his lap, standing next to him or whatever, his hand will be at its rightful place

i believe he prefers cheek and jaw kisses. he loves a good forehead kiss and hand kiss when he’s emotional and talking to you about certain struggles

speaking of struggles; he would always and i mean always put on his strong persona for you but sometimes his walls would crumble and would cry into your shoulder holding you so tight like you’re about to slip from his grasp

you would make appearances in a few music videos

he would also prefer to be in the studio alone but brings you along when all demos are done to get your opinion because he values it a lot (low key more than dres)

of course you would be his main inspiration for a lot of songs, also you daughter, because he admires both of you so much

marshall is 100% a very jealous and possessive man. not overbearing but maybe a little more intense than the average man? he trusts you fully but not others. he doesn’t forbid you of anything but will always say and do stuff to let others know that you’re off limits

i imagine after you got married he got a tattoo of your face or name on his chest like right over his heart

likes holding hands in public and an occasional kiss but nothing more. he prefers his affection to be reserved for only you and not the world

ONLY refers to you as ‘my girl’. when he’s with friends he’d say stuff like ‘yo, where is my girl?’. and others would also refer to you as ‘his girl’. at one point you just got the nickname ‘slim’s girl’ or ‘shady’s girl’ depending on which you prefer

tries to keep you away from hollywood and only goes for recordings, shows etc. when he’s done you both leave for detroit to lead a somewhat quiet life

definitely will buy you a lot of gifts. sometimes expensive or cheap; something that reminds him of you or something he knows you want. he just feels like showering you with gifts. his love language is giving gifts or acts of service. he will watch your favourite show just because you like it

em will always thank you in his speeches!! something along the lines of ‘first of all thank you to dr. dre and my two beautiful girls who i love with my entire heart. you two are my world, i love you!’

but like you don’t understand he will always thank you. he could win a life time supply of soap and he would say your name with pride…he’s just so grateful to have you and to be able to call you family

would hold your bag/bags for you. marshall gives you princess treatment without realising bc he genuinely wants to do it. he will snatch those bags out of your hands before you can protest

when other artists or people take your name or your daughter’s name into their mouths with negative connotations you best believe em will rip them apart, so most people will never attack you or romy bc it’s a death sentence

people can call him lame, bad rapper, ugly, whatever they feel like but as soon as anyone mentions a hair on you or romy’s bodies…it’s over. careers are shredded…you love it though

if you are a girl who likes to get her nails done this is for you; at first you started asking him to choose a design and colour and at first he was confused but he learned to love it especially when you scratched his head or your hands around his yknow what…he even once tried to design some and you got it done

the sex is a mix of mildy rough and vanilla. sometimes you both need something a little more “agressive” but he also needs a calm session. i see it kind as a light switch: it’s either rough or vanilla, occasionally you mix it but it turns out one way or another

also the man is a sucker (pun) for head. like he loves your mouth on him. i genuinely believes it’s in his top 2 favourite sexual activities (don’t deny it i’m right)

extra: if you love marshall right and you two work, it will be both of yours best love, but if things don’t work they can quickly turn into a relationship from hell

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months ago

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Mine. || Simon "Ghost" Riley

For @glitterypirateduck's “GhostChallenge” writing challenge! I used the following prompts:

9. Alternate universe 100. You're Price, Gaz, or Soap's sister/brother 12. Brothers best friend trope 71. Reader or Ghost rescues the other from a bad date (but 'bad' is used very loosely) 34. Ghost in gray sweatpants. Just. Gray. Sweatpants. 90. Thigh riding 13. Car sex (also loosely) 48. "Is that the best that you can do?" 99. "You're mine."

Rating: E Words: 3.2k~ CW: smutty, thigh riding, no piv, no kissing, mean!Simon, toxic!Simon, fuck buddy!Simon, jealous!Simon, stalker(ish?)!Simon, possessive behavior. Tags: afab!reader, you/your pronouns but no Y/N, rugby AU, friends with benefits/fuck buddies, unrequited feelings (or are they?), toxic-ish relationship?, lying, manipulation?, secret relationship, brother's best friend, creating/baiting jealousy. Summary: Ghost is a cocky, mean rugby player that you can't help but be pining over. But maybe it's not completely unrequited. OR Simon ruins your date with someone else because he's jealous. a/n: I had a plan. I executed said plan. Profit?

Having grown up in a rugby family, you were given little choice but to attend all of your brother's games, both as a wee lad, a young man, and, now.

You were there, with your remaining sisters and your mam, for every single one of Johnny's games, back from when he was a wee one that couldn't even do a proper tackle and would fall in the mud, to now, picked to join the national team.

This means, however, that you've spent your entire childhood, teen years and now young adulthood, surrounded by the lads from your brother's many teams, but, especially, the ones he met as a teen and made a lasting friendship with: John "Cap" Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, and Simon "Ghost" Riley, the bane of your existence.

Johnny's had them over for birthdays, holidays, sleepovers... Not to mention the times you've gone to pick him up from training and were allowed into the locker room, only to get an eyeful of too much bare skin on all those men as they paraded around half-dressed; in towels; in underwear, or even in less than that.

It became a matter of time until you gained someone's attention. No wonder, pretty lass like you, with your sweet smiles and playful quips... coming to pick up your bulky winger brother, of course you'd catch someone's eye.

Kyle Garrick is the team's Hooker... but he's also known as a manwhore, the town bicycle, or whatever you wanna call him. The lads all know that if they go out drinking, Kyle is not going home alone, and, worse, they know that Kyle could and would seduce their cousins, sisters, mothers, and girlfriends, if not kept in check.

That's part of the reason why Johnny nearly had a fucking aneurysm when he caught Kyle outside the locker room three days ago, with a hand pressed against the wall beside your head, looking down at you with a smug little smirk on those perfect lips of his.

He knew what was happening, the way Kyle was looking down at you, the way you were looking up at Kyle, smiling all cutely, backed up against the wall, while his own teammate put the moves on you and talked about taking you out, his free hand gently playing with the strap of the dress you were wearing.

Johnny, however, missed the way Simon, who was standing right behind him, stiffened up and bristled at the sight of Garrick flirting with you. You didn't though. You caught it as soon as Johnny cleared his throat next to you with a "Should I pull up a chair and wait fer ye to be done?". Simon's eyes were glued to you, his brow set, his jaw clenched...

That's what he gets.

Simon, whom you've had a massive crush on for years now, who you pine for, whose attention you crave... and who only ever comes to you for a quick lay...

Simon, who rolls over after sex and tosses you a towel while he's putting on his clothes, telling you to 'hurry up' so he can take you home.

Simon, who always stares at you like he's going to eat you whole every time he lays eyes on you.

Simon, who chugs half of the ice cold water bottles he's given during breaks in practice, and uses the rest to douse himself in water to keep himself cool.

Simon, who knows how your eyes always get drawn to his legs and his bulge in his uniform, and rolls up his shorts before doing lifts, just for you.

Simon, who comes to pick you up whenever you call him, tipsy, from some bar or club when going out with friends.

Simon, who sends you 'u up?' texts at 2 in the morning when he's drunk.

Simon, who scoffs and chuckles whenever you breach the 'us' topic.

Frankly, you're not even actually trying to get with Kyle, especially not with his reputation (nothing against him, it's just not for you), but you needed to do something.

You're tired of waiting around for SImon to get his head out of his arse. You're not a toy, you're not going to stick around and be 'friends with benefits' with him, except barely friends, and with little benefits.

He's getting what he fucking deserves.

You didn't anticipate, however, how upset Johnny would be at the idea of Kyle taking you out. In fact, it was poor planning on your end because from the moment Johnny saw you with Kyle, he attempted, multiple times, to convince you not to go out with him... And if the DMs Kyle sent you are any indication, he also tried to talk Kyle out of it.

On the other hand, Simon didn't once try to intervene. Despite the look he shot you on Tuesday, he did not in fact reach out to talk to you, even now, as Friday comes along and you stride into the restaurant, hanging off Kyle's arm...

There's nothing from him. No texts, no DMs, no calls, nothing... So you guess that it's done, over. He got the memo, finally...

Your phone starts buzzing inside your bag while you and Kyle are halfway through sharing your appetizers. Looking down at your phone, you narrow your eyes when you find Simon's number ringing.

Really? Now? You don't think so.

So, you hang up.

Only for it to start ringing again immediately after. Simon. Again.

Grunting, you end up picking up. "What?"

"I'm outside. Let's get out of here."

You're hyper aware, suddenly, that the host has sat you and Kyle by the windows overlooking the car park... And you can see a car with its headlights on pointing right at you.

"I don't think so."

"Then don't think. Just do what I'm telling you."

Bossy, as always, that's how Simon is. Everything is on his terms, never on yours.

"I'm having dinner." You fight him, as always. This push and pull of yours has been going on for three years now... And Simon always wins. It makes him cocky.

"Not with him you're not. So you better get out here before I go in there and embarrass you."

With a sigh, you nod. "Fine, I'll be right there."

Turning off the call, you turn to Kyle, explaining you have to leave. His brows knit together and he looks at you with puppy eyes, asking why, and, short of a proper explanation, you do the same thing you've been doing to Johnny for the past three years: you lie.

"Johnny said he got a bizarre text from our mam and he tried calling her and she isn't replying."

"She's on these new sleeping pills, so she might have just knocked out while watching telly..."

"But he's worried, and he's on the other side of town, so he asked if I could go home and check on her..."

And Kyle, as much of a manwhore he is, he's also a gentleman, and is one of your brother's best friends. If your mam might be feeling sick, he's, of course, driving you home and helping! He was raised right.

As you leave the car park on the passenger seat of Kyle's BMW, you're hyper aware of the familiar Range Rover trailing you down the road, always a couple of cars behind, but always there... always lurking.

You reach your childhood home in record time, and start fumbling for the keys inside your clutch while Kyle trails up behind you to the front door. "I think I've got this from here, Kyle."

"No way, I love your mum like she's my auntie, if she's not doing well, I'm here to help,"

"No, really, it's okay, I'm sure she's fine..."

"Love, really, I'm not leaving you like this, not before I make sure that she's alright-"

Suddenly, a large, pale hand comes to grip Kyle's shoulder from behind, Simon's eyes shining in the darkness of the night, barely illuminated by the light by the front door, before his full face reveals itself.

Like a Ghost. That's his nickname. Fast, stealthy, there when you least expect it. Both in the rugby pitch and out of it.

"Don't worry, mate, I've got this." Simon announces, causing Kyle (and you) to freeze.

"You're here too?" Kyle asks, seemingly surprised, just as the taller fullback player removes his hand from his shoulder.

"Johnny called me too. Was worried about her being alone if mam wasn't doing well," Simon says naturally, as if he isn't also lying through his teeth, though his eyes never leave yours, catching and not planning on letting it go.

"Okay... well..." Kyle says and looks back and forth between you and Simon, seemingly catching the weird vibe between you, before he nods. "I'll go home then. Text me?" He asks you. "We can have a rain check."

Gulping thickly, your gaze slowly moves back toward Kyle, and you nod with a soft smile. "Yeah, yeah. Of course." You say softly and move over to kiss his cheek, before watching Kyle go back to his car and pull off.

You're turning, keys now in hand, to unlock the door when one of Simon's large hands grabs yours, stopping you. "What are you doing?" He asks you.

"Going home?" You retort as you look up at him, feeling the warmth of his fingers wrapped around yours, clutching lightly. "Ye can go now. Congratulations, you ruined my date. Yer work is done."

Simon chuckles and takes a step closer to you, tilting his head at an angle and regarding you with those dark, deep brown eyes of his, the same ones that always make you feel like he's trying to burn you with his gaze.

"That's cute that there, sweetheart." The Mancunian tells you before he lets go of your hand and pushes you along with a hand on the small of your back, away from your front door. "Get in the fuckin' car." He orders and uses his eyebrows to point at his jeep, his voice carrying the same strong tone that he reserves only for bossing his teammates around during practice.

You know better than to defy him. So you tuck your metaphorical tail between your legs and you nod, moving over to his Rover. He opens the door for you and helps you up by gripping a hand around your forearm, the other bumps you up by the back of the legs.

"How'd ye know where we were?" You end up asking once Simon has driven away from your street, your eyes locked on his as he drives, finally daring to take a proper look at him under the orange light of the street lamps you pass by.

Black hoodie, grey sweatpants, and some kind of running shoes. Those stupid bloody sweatpants... The same ones he usually wears when he shows up at your door, or you at his, or when he goes to get you from work or nights out...

You know he did it on purpose... To pick the most slutty outfit he has as he comes to break up your date with Kyle. The annoying grey sweats that hang off his lip, that hug his thick, muscular thighs, the ones that he never wears boxers under, to make sure you can catch the dick print in the fabric...

And his stupid blonde hair all spiked up with hair gel... It used to be brown, matching his eyes, but he bleaches it now, the idiot... You want to be mad at him, you really do... But when he glances over at you while he's driving, you can't really.

"Garrick's predictable," Simon says, his tongue spitting vitriol as he utters his teammate's name. You'd think he hates the bloke... and right now he might as well do. "Takes birds to the same 5 or 6 places every time. Your brother and I split up to cover half of them each." He explains.

Scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest. "The two of ye have no right." You tell him, scolding him over interrupting your date. "I'm a grown woman."

"Right. That's what you told Johnny. Don't try to use that shite excuse on me." Simon tells you as he turns on the blinker and pulls over.

You haven't driven long. Less than 2 minutes. You could climb out of the jeep if you wanted to and walk home.

"It's not an excuse." You retort as you glare at him, keeping your arms tightly crossed over your chest.

"Right, because you want me to believe you really want to go out with Kyle? Or, let me guess, you 'can change him'?" Simon asks sardonically and laughs as he pulls off his seatbelt.

"I didn't say that." You retort. "I simply said that I can do whatever I want because I'm a grown woman.'

"No..." The blond says in a sarcastic tone. "You... did it because you wanted my attention... And you got it, sweetheart." He replies as he reaches over and unbuckles your seatbelt for you, his hands wrapping around your hip and back, tugging you over the gearshift onto his lap.

"I weren't trying to-" You reply, pushing back against his chest, but only half-heartedly, allowing yourself to be dragged onto him.

"Sure you were. But Gaz, really? Is that the best you can do when it comes to making me jealous?" Simon quips as he makes you straddle his left thigh, bringing you down to sit on it, the gusset of your panties pressed against the warm material of his sweatpants.

His stupid, muscular, hard thigh, the same one you can't help but drool over when you watch him in his tiny rugby shorts during practice and in the proper pitch...

You can feel the taut muscle, even through the fabric, the wait his leg flexes as you straddle it, the way he presses the weight of it against your core, and his fingers dig into your hip before dragging you back and forth.

You bite your lip hard to contain a moan, though he notices the way you're trembling, enjoying the look in your eyes, the way your body warms up, the way your back arches up. It puts a sick smile on his lips, one you wanna wipe off.

"It worked, didn't it?" You reply, trying your best to suppress the pleasure from showing on your face, and instead trying to seem smug. "You're here, right? Came to break up my date for a reason..." You say, clinging onto your little 'gotcha' moment...

Only for Simon to ruin it. "Oh that weren't jealousy, darling." He replies, his smirk beginning to grow into a proud, mocking grin, his dark brows rising and his cheeks puffing up with his smile. "I have no reason to be jealous."

Simon begins rocking you faster and harder against his hard thigh, causing you to whine and mewl, the pleasure building from the friction between your cunt and his thigh.

Your clit is slowly and steadily catching on the fabric, making you tremble and twitch atop him, feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten as it always does whenever Simon starts playing with your clit like this.

"No, actually... Don't have a reason to be jealous about anyone." Simon replies as he leans toward you, pressing his nose against yours so he can properly look you in the eye. "Not Garrick... not Price... not any of those coworkers you're always talking about... nor your old uni mates..." He trails off.

"Simon..." You grumble, bucking your hips against him, wanting to chase your orgasm. How does he do this to you every time? Make you so horny, make you throw away all rationality, make you give in to him?

"I know, sweetheart, I know... Feels good, don't it?" The large man coos at you as he helps you rock against his thigh faster and faster, your hips stuttering and your legs beginning to tremble on either side of him as you steadily grow closer and closer to coming.

"You know what else I know?" Simon teases as he leans over and uses his teeth to nip at your neck and earlobe. "I know that I'll never have a bloody fucking reason to get jealous over you... because You're Mine." He tells you, his tone surprisingly authoritative.

There's something in that claim... the way he finally says the things you've wanted so badly to hear him say... Your climax crashes into you and you go limp against him, your head falling onto his chest and your jaw going slack as you moan incoherently.

"That's it..." Simon coos at you and gives you a couple of pats on your thigh, sliding his hand up over your ass, covered in a new dress you bought on purpose for your date with Kyle. Your cunt is throbbing inside your panties, your walls clenching around nothing and you know you've left a bit of a wet spot on Simon's sweatpants.

"You got off on that, huh?" He teases you in a mocking tone. "Been wanting to hear that for a while now, have you?" You can hear the smirk on his lips as you try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. He's so fucking mean...

"Piss off, Simon." You retort and pull off him, pushing against his shoulders with both hands and moving pack to the passenger's seat. "Take me home." You say in a huff.

"Of course, sweetheart." Simon replies, his voice still smug and a large shit-eating grin on his lips as he bites his tongue, turning back onto the street.

After Simon pulls over in front of your house again, you hop out, fixing your dress and stomping back toward the house, displeased with his behavior. With him using your feelings for him against him. With him.

His phone rings, echoing through the speakers in the Rover. The small screen on the dash displays Johnny's contact name as Simon is watching you frustratedly fumble for the keys inside your clutch again.

"Been to all three spots. Did you find her?" The Scot's voice comes through the bluetooth speakers as the Mancunian watches you, running his fingers over his thigh where you left a wet stain on his sweats.

"Yeah, mate. Been keeping an eye on them. Kyle didn't try anything and he just dropped her off at home." He replies, watching you for a moment longer.

"Thanks for lookin' out, mate. 'm going for a pint right now..." Soap announces.

"Cheers," Ghost says in a nonchalant date, watching you finally find the keys and open the door, heading inside and turning on the hall light. "You owe me one, had a date planned but spent my evening going after your sister."

"Yeah... yeah... I owe ye." Soap retorts. "Come out me with me, then, 'm sure ye can find a bird at the pub." He offers.

"Nah, mate, 'm knackered. Going to get a good night's sleep." He says and watches you turn to glance at him (or more so his car) through the open door before you turn away again and visibly huff, closing the door behind yourself.

Simon shakes his head, snickering under his breath and saying goodbye to Soap before hanging up the call and grabbing his phone to shoot you a quick text.

"Ur brother is @ pub. Let me in."

Then, he stashes his phone back in his pocket, not even waiting for a reply.

His eyes return to the door and wait patiently, just a couple of seconds go by before you're opening the front door again. Simon smiles seeing that, turning off his car and hopping out.

His girl is so obedient.

[ Ghost Challenge Masterlist ] || [ My Masterlist ]

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year ago

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Objects in Motion

Part 1

Alpha! Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

A/N: My very first A/B/O fic, that I started a while ago, and just decided to post.

It all started after finding out how much that lovely coat Billy wears in s1 costs.

Warnings: Masturbation, omega in heat.

You’re often overwhelmed.

It’s the hitch of your breath when your feelings are too big for your body, or the way your throat hurts with all the words that go unsaid.

There are not enoughs and there are too muchs and hardly any moments when things are… just right.

The coat in your hands is soft- ridiculously so, the label offers you an explanation- 100% cotton. You can't help the way your hands tighten on the material, as if you’d fight off anyone that tried to take it from you. Like for the first time, just right isn’t just a far away idea, it’s here, in your hands, against your chest.

How had you ended up here? Curled under your bed sheets, pillows all around you, clutching this lovely black coat to your body?

Today had been very overwhelming, your phone had pinged, alerting you to your impending heat, reminding you that you needed to pick up supplies.

Your heats were formidable too, always too hot or too hungry or too needy. There was never a part of you that existed within the realms of fine.

At least until now.

When you were clutching this delightful black coat in your hands, bringing it up to your nose so that you could catch a whiff of the bewitching scent.

It's bergamot at first, followed by notes of citrus that makes your eyes flutter shut. Delight spreads out inside you, fanning at the flames of your desire- your heat coming on faster as your nose lingers on the scent. You catch hints of pepper at the very end and it prompts you to take another long inhale.

Based on the size of the coat, your mind formulates an idea of the size of the person that wears it. The very thought causes you to clench your thighs together.

You didn't mean for this to happen, you'd only gone to pick up your silky PJs from the dry cleaners, designed specifically to be worn during your heat for maximum comfort on your skin. The delicate, gossamer material demanded special care, but you were very glad to have been gifted them some years ago.

You'd just picked up your item, when your nose had zeroed in on a scent that had made your body perk up curiously. It was the first time your senses had streamlined onto one thing, where throughout the day you'd had a number of difficult sensory encounters, leading you into wearing a beanie and noise cancelling headphones and the biggest jacket in your closet in any attempt to feel less things. The scent had made your brain ache for more, demanding you follow what your body had accepted- that this specific scent brought you absolute pleasure.

Even through the garment bag it was stored in, it had activated dangerous thoughts in your hindbrain, and before you could even look around for cameras, you'd reached over the counter and swiped the garment bag when the girl at the front desk wasn't looking. It had been tucked to your chest and smuggled out of the dry cleaners without even a moment of guilt.

Realistically, you wouldn't be in that much trouble anyway, omega behaviour was usually forgiven, even if it didn't make sense. No one would lock you up for swiping a men's coat, especially not so close to your heat.

You have a few hours left, and you use it to make sure your food supplies are easily accessible. Your heats tended to run on for five days- higher than average- which means that you were in a lot more danger of starvation and dehydration.

You wonder if he would take good care of you. Your mind spinning back to the owner of the coat, having already made up some basic idea of him.

You knew his designation, by scent alone, but you were too afraid to admit it to yourself, worried about the consequences of having stolen a coat from someone like that.

Would they be mad? Probably not, you were sure with a scent like that, they were used to omegas swarming around.

The thought made you unreasonably jealous, for a person you didn’t even know.

Your heat hits you in the early hours of the next morning.

You wake with a whine, sitting up, thighs damp with your arousal. You reach for the pills on your bedside table, taking them quickly and swallowing down some tepid water, before lying back. They would help you go back to sleep until morning alleviating some symptoms of your heat. You turn, finding the coat lying beside you. You take a deep breath into it as you fall asleep.

You can’t focus on anything as you pump the slick pink dildo in and out of you. There are tears streaming down your face, desperate for much more than you could ever give yourself.

You bring the coat up to your nose, crying harder as the scent wraps around you.

“Alpha.” You pant into the soft material, imagining your fantasy version of the owner.

You take a deep breath, envisioning him here with you, presumably large body curved over yours, taking up all the air around you, smooth skin available for you to scratch and claw at, his scent glands on display and eager for your mark.

“Alpha.” You beg again, into the loneliness of your apartment.

The coat becomes a centerpoint in your nest.

On day three when it’s fully finished to a satisfactory level, an arrangement of pillows and sheets all around your bed, you tuck the coat in beside you, delighted at the way the material feels on your flushed skin.

The scent is strongest at the collar, where it's probably rubbed on his neck often, brushed against his gland when he turns to examine something.

You groan, mouth watering for a bite of him, whoever he was.

There’s a lot of buttons and buckles on it, and your hindbrain is somewhat obsessed with what you think he looks like wearing it, probaby commands any room he walks into.

The label at the back says Burberry, and though you're not very familiar with the brand, the clean stitching and soft material tells you that it’s definitely got to cost more than what you pay for your own coats.

You sigh, stripping out of your PJ’s and opting to slide into the coat itself.

A groan slips from your mouth, the material feels coarse on your oversensitive skin, but you welcome it as you feel his scent engulf you.

A fresh wave of arousal coats your thighs, and you can’t help inching your hand down between damp thighs until you find your swollen clit.

On your knees now, face down into your bed, you bite down on the collar of the midnight black coat.

Your eyes roll back into your head, muffled grunts as you pump your overstimulated cunt to the brim.

You rub your face into the collar, arching your neck so that your scent gland rubs against the coat, a low whine at the severe taboo thought of rubbing your gland against a stranger's.

It's frowned upon, but the very thought of it is what brings you to orgasm just a few moments later.

You struggle for air, hair tickling your cheek as you huff, some of it clings to the saliva at the corner of your mouth, some of it is caught in the tears that smear your cheeks.

You want- like never before.

When your heat is over, the guilt kicks in.

You know better than to wash the coat yourself, only wiping gently at the interior in hopes of wiping off any lingering traces of… you away. You think about getting it dry cleaned yourself but you’d used the last of your money on the alleviator pills to help with your heat symptoms. You wouldn’t get paid until the end of the month.

Finally, you rummage through the pockets, checking to see if anything had been left behind by the owner. You find a crumpled napkin with someone’s number scribbled on, leaning in, you take an experimental sniff and draw away from it in disgust as the scent hits your nose.

You almost put it back, but you figured it was crumpled anyway, probably meant for a bin in the first place- so you put it there. Searching again and you smile when you come across a tub of lip balm, opening it and giving a little sniff of the inside. There’s no scent to it, and you curiously swipe a bit onto your finger and smear it onto your lips.

You begin to get a sense that the person this coat belongs to, has very refined tastes, and after a quick search, your eyes widen in shock when you discover the lip balm costs near fifty dollars.

Which is how it starts- an itch at the back of your head that tries to warn you of the possibility that the coat in your possession costs more than you’d initially thought.

You let out a slow breath, typing in the information stitched onto the label and your eyes bulge out of your head when you finally see the price of the coat sitting in your lap.

Three thousand.

The coat you stole had cost nearly three thousand dollars.

You look down at the item in betrayal, the scent of its true owner just barely clinging to it.

You take a deep breath, pushing your phone aside as you begin rummaging for a box capable of returning such an expensive item.

Thankfully, you know where to return it to, as the name and address had been hooked to the garment bag.

Delivering it is another difficult task on its own, but you manage, having to call in a few favours and explain in lengthy detail to the courier that your package wasn’t dangerous in any way but you’d rather not deliver it yourself.

Luckily, you’re able to convince them of your cause, the urge to help an omega in distress working in your favour.

It’s nine a.m on a Saturday morning when Billy comes home from his run.

He’s fishing for his keys in his pocket when he notices that there’s a box sitting in front of his door.

He pauses for a moment, looks at the item, before stepping forward to examine it.

There’s a card on top- one of those printed ones you can get at a convenience store- light blue sky and a panda holding onto a handful of bamboo stalks.

There’s an “I’m Sorry,” printed on, and then something added in below in pen.

‘From a very apologetic Omega.’ It says.

His eyebrows twitch in amusement, he brings the card up to his nose to catch a whiff- the scent of light, floral perfume fills his nose.

He’s aware his coat had been stolen, he’d seen video footage of the crime itself, watched as a small hooded frame had reached across and nicked his coat before it could be cleaned. The dry cleaners had sent him the footage when they’d explained what had happened.

He’d thought it had been gone for good, deleting the only copy of the footage and moving on. He could afford to replace one coat.

This though, was interesting, it seems like the omega had felt some sort of remorse, and had returned his coat to him.

It was sweet, he found himself smiling as he reached down to pick the box up, cradling it under one arm and flipping the card open as he enters his apartment.

He huffs, feeling a little sorry for an omega that couldn’t afford a dry cleaning bill, then again, the cost of the coat would definitely bring up the price a lot more.

‘Dear Alpha,

I’m so sorry I took your coat. I tried to clean it as best as I could, but I couldn’t afford to have it dry cleaned for you. It’s wrapped tightly to protect you from the scent on it. I'd suggest not opening it, and taking it to be cleaned as soon as you get it. I’m very sorry.

P.S. You have a very nice scent.’

Curiously, he tugs the box open, finding that the garment bag has been folded carefully and wrapped in plastic wrap.

He sniffs the box experimentally, searching for any hint of a scent, or any indication that the package could be dangerous.

All he gets is more of that pleasant perfume that he figured was doused in the box to protect him from the scent.

It only makes him more curious.

Billy grips the plastic wrap, and very carefully tears a little hole into the plastic, breaking the seal.

His body goes rigid.

He feels his pupils dilate, his hindbrain roaring to life as he catches the scent of an omega in heat.

His omega.

He rips the plastic furiously, fumbles with the garment bag and rips the zipper open. His eyes scan the coat, as he takes one long, slow breath.

The first scent he gets are apples, and then light notes of vanilla, but under it all, is the kick of pheromones, that sticks like honey on his tongue.

He takes another deep breath, groaning as his cock swells, pulsing to life, begging to claim the owner of such a delicious scent.

There’s so much of it, filling his space with sweet notes of frustration, yearning and unfulfillment.

His omega, needing him.

A growl tears from his chest, something inside of him collapses like an avalanche, only increasing with time, decimating his thoughts and leaving a feverish burn under his skin.

He tugs the coat open, groaning, the tart smell of cunt clings to the inside of his coat, telling him that his omega wore his coat naked.

Desperate little thing, he thinks, as he dips his hand into his joggers, fingers wrapping firmly around his cock, squeezing in an attempt to force his orgasm away. He groans, the grip around his cock rewarding him with pleasure, and he can’t help pumping himself, trying to ease the desire inside of him.

He leans in, nose pressed to the collar of his coat, where the scent is strongest, where his omega must have rubbed their little scent gland vigorously against his coat,

Sweet, delightful, his cock aches for a cunt he’s never seen, his mouth yearns for skin he’s never touched. All he has, is the honeyed scent of an omega’s heat, and the screaming inside of him that demands he claim what his body knows is his.

His grip on his cock tightens, his vision blurs, head full of thoughts, ideas of a little omega under him, sobbing as they take his cock repeatedly, begging for more with broken cries.

He doesn’t stop until he comes into his hand, only then, does his thinking sharpen.

He puts his coat in bed beside him, he hopes the sheets will absorb the smell, so that he can have his little omega with him while he sleeps. He wakes with an aching cock, and the coat clutched tightly against his chest, struggling to remember fading dreams of little omegas that beg nicely.

He doesn’t get out of bed until he’s come twice into the palm of his hand.

He searches for days.

But when he’d deleted the footage from the dry cleaners, he’d gotten rid of any hope of tracing his omega’s movements, and chances of finding an address.

She doesn’t leave any record of one, always opting to pick up her items herself.

At least he’s gotten that, a basic description, a height, an idea of her complexion and the colour of her eyes.

It was too vague to work with, but it was something he could think about before he went to sleep at night, with his nose buried in his coat, breathing in the scent of her, desperate to find the omega that had stolen his coat and unintentionally taken his heart.

He studies the card too, learns the handwriting, growing more and more desperate for his little omega.

Billy knew he wouldn't stop looking, not until he found the person who'd opened up a nest of possibilities in his head, giving him something he'd never had in a very long time.

Hope.

Part 2

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #Alpha!Billy Russo #billy russo smut

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haine-kleine · 5 months ago

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i thought the ending couldn't be more disappointing and then this japanese tweet proved me wrong

because all of this is true. Ochako and Izuku will never forget Toga and Tenko and half of their epilogue was about this, however messily done. Ochako dedicated herself to creating better conditions for people like Toga, because she saw how badly Toga was suffering and despite failing to save her and give her a brighter future, she committed to building that future on her own, selflessly gifting it to others. Izuku had failed to save Tenko despite wanting to, and this weights on his conscience eight years later, and will continue to haunt him in the form of Shigaraki's ghost watching him, not letting him forget himself in the happy ending of joining his hero classmates and achieving his dream.

it's still messy and unfaithful as fuck, but at least these two endings still show that the consequences were there. the unfair deaths of the villains weren't simply swept under the rug and forgotten after a few sad talks about them.

and the thing these two cases share in common? Ochako and Izuku really didn't owe it to Toga and Shigaraki to save them. they didn't. they were hero kids thrown in the middle of the war these very villains waged on them. they both were younger than their respective villains, they both were hurt by these villains, they had no prior history with them, and having shared a few conversations was enough to make them emphasize with and humanize the villains. nothing that happened to Himiko and Tenko was inflicted on them by Ochako and Izuku, and yet just seeing that, hearing about that was enough to ignite sympathy in their hearts. because, you know, they are heroes. they are there to save people from suffering. and even when those people are the ones actively hurting them and their friends, they are mature enough to set that aside and attempt to save their human lives.

enter the star of the show, the only character in this story who despite having committed truly villainous acts, is allowed to go consequences free without a single care in the world. Enji. the person who had single-handedly fucked Touya up to the point his mental state was too messed up even for AFO to deal with. he had given life to this baby, and he was constantly made aware of how badly his attitude is affecting this child by Rei. and he couldn't be bothered to do anything for him, not even to look at him. the fire on Sekoto was 100% Enji's fault, not only because he couldn't be bothered to come visit his son on his day off when Touya had asked him to, but also because the number two hero on his day off was too slow to come to the forest near his house to save Touya from the fire or from All for One. this makes Touya being kept under AFO's care for the following 3 years Enji's responsibility, as he was the only one who could have saved Touya from AFO. even after Touya wakes up from his coma and immediately runs to his house as fast as he can, it's Enji's behaviour alone that makes him decide against making his presence known to the family for the following 7 years. this excuse of a father can't even mourn the death of a son he explicitly blames himself for in such way that won't make his entire existence feel meaningless to him.

and after Touya reveals himself to Enji personally as Dabi? he proves that he still hasn't changed at all and utterly fails to do anything about the situation while Shouto has to repeatedly remind him of it. not only was he procrastinating, the narrative was coddling him the entire time, with the support of other heroes and sidekicks, who despite being shown the truth about Enji, choose to ignore it. even the family he has been abusing for years, the family who was mourning Touya together, joins their efforts to support Enji.

Touya's only desires were to be seen and to be heard. both went unanswered, as after showing the world the unfiltered truth of the misery his father had caused to him, the world covered their earths and turned away. after showing himself to his family, they keep looking at Enji, not at him.

even at the very end, the end of the family's hell is more about Enji than about any other character. he is the only one allowed to talk about his feelings in depth, while the rest of them are reduced to barebone imitations of their previously established characters used as props for supporting Enji's character resolution (with the exception of Touya, who is physically unable to speak for longer than 5 minutes a day anymore. wow). even Natsuo cutting off Enji is less about the latter being a horrible excuse of a father and more about Enji's great stoicism accepting everything the family throws at him with a heroic face. Rei's character no longer makes sense because exactly a month ago her mental state and the trauma inflicted on her by this very man didn't allow her to face him at all. and now she is suddenly okay with becoming his caretaker? why is she taking her responsibility for Touya and not talking about Enji's responsibility at all? this was a man who had abused her so badly she had a psychotic episode. you don't just shrug off things like this. you don't sit in a psychiatric ward for ten years after that, waiting to be let out and jump on the first chance of making yourself useful for your abuser. you don't set aside the relationships with the children he had hurt and he had made you hurt to devote yourself fully to your damn abuser. someone take this poor woman out of this Stockholm syndrome relationship.

at this point Touya not being allowed to die is the worst offence, because the survival wasn't granted to him to heal. it was given to him for the singular purpose of making Endeavor look slightly less bad. Enji never even talks about failing to save Touya (and neither is Shouto allowed to). if you wanted to save him, then him being stuck immobile and isolated from the world with only months left to live is not 'the time Shouto gave us with him' it's a failure. he's not your damn pet, why is the narrative making him into one?

Touya had wanted to die. Shouto points this out, Touya himself talks about it. Enji was the one who didn't want him to die. he also didn't want to die himself. somehow, his desire is the only one that is fulfilled, while even Shouto's dream of eating soba with his older brother goes ignored.

and afterwards? Enji happily moves on from this with the new family he had found for himself, while Touya's childhood desire of his family looking at him is fulfilled in the most grotesque way possible. and the family's dream of having a home away from Endeavor? not a chance lmao

#man i can't deal with it anymore #NEED a fix-it #where Touya never talks to his family ever again #if this is the reunion Hori decided to give js #bnha #bnha spoilers #todoroki touya #dabi #todoroki tei #todoroki shouto #anti endeavor #bnha critical #salt #you would think enji was based on hori's higher up with the way the narrative is giving him private lap dances

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klaus-littlestwolf · 1 year ago

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The Solitary Omega -Klaus M.

This is one of my fav stories from my Wattpad so I thought I would post it on her for everyone

Warning:Daddy Kink, a/b/o dynamics, Alpha and Omega behaviors of my own design in some parts, smut (but that’s why you’re here so enjoy it🤣)

Vampires find their mates by scent like everyone else in the world, however there are no Omega vampires currently in existence, the last one having been 600 years ago and only existing, as far as anyone could tell, for a few weeks. Vampires aren't attracted to Omega scents, most vampires are Alphas, very rarely scenting their mates in a Beta because very few vampires are submissive in any sense of the word. Vampires want and need strong mates, craving the attention of another Alpha unlike humans where Alphas rarely mate with other Alphas, Alphas and Betas are the most common, making up about 92% of all mated pairs. Alphas and Omegas make up about 7.5% of the rest leaving not even one percent to Alphas and Alphas.

As a human Klaus had always been attracted to Omegas, such as Tatia, however after the change they didn't smell appealing to him anymore and he didn't take them as a meal or a bed partner. 1000 years he spent no longer attracted to Omegas and to be honest, he missed them, their soft skin and sweet smell being everything he ever wanted, a mate to marry and bed, fill up with his pups and start a family, a family he could treat better than his had been in his life. However as the years slowly went on it seemed less and less likely he would ever like ones smell again until after his first 100 years he gave up on the idea all together. None of the Originals had ever met an Omega vampire, no one ever dumb enough to change one, until Mystic Falls that is.

The family had been undaggered and they were planning a ball, each writing their own invitations to whoever they wanted there for whatever reason. He recognized all of the names until Elijah wrote a new one on the card, 'Y/Full/N'. "Who is that brother?"

Elijah looked shocked. "You've been here all this time and never met the Omega vampire?" That sentence alone stunned him to silence, along with both Kol and Rebekah. "Damon's friend, Y/n, well Y/F/n but she prefers Y/n. I don't know how she was turned but she's lovely and very sweet, can't be more than a few vampire years old. She undaggered me in the basement of the boarding house because she thought it was 'unfair' what Damon had done to me." He chuckled. "She still doesn't smell appealing however I'm not adverse to the scent either. It's calming in a way, she's a very nice girl and I would like her to join the festivities. You are all to leave her alone, she's my guest." They nodded, all intrigued instantly. "I mean it Kol." Kol had been known to play with Omegas before but he shrugged, holding his hands up in defense.

"I'll be good."

"I actually find myself excited to meet her. I'm intrigued." Klaus admitted to his brother as they pulled up to the apartment complex on the edge of town, walking up to the door he knew was hers when Klaus smelled something mouth watering. "What is that?" He asked when Elijah knocked.

"What?"

"What is that sme-" he was cut off by the door opening and being overtaken by the most amazingly warm, delicious scent he had ever smelled. A shudder rushed over his body as the hair on his arms stood up and he couldn't help but inhale it for as long as he could.

"Elijah? To what do I own this pleasure?" She didn't seem thrilled to see him, but not put off either and Klaus found himself happy at the fact that she wasn't afraid of them.

"I wanted to request your attendance at our families ball, most of the town is invited but I wanted to make sure you knew you were my personal guest." She seemed stunned, taking the invitation before looking back at them.

"Thank you, that's very sweet but I would have nothing to wear." Klaus noticed her nostrils flare and she looked at him as they did, her eyes darkening and he felt a swell of pride at the fact that she clearly loved his scent as well.

"I will make sure you have a dress love, if I can make that happen...will you save me a dance?" Again, shock filled her eyes but she couldn't hide her smile.

"I suppose I could do that, so long as you promise to be well behaved Mr. Mikaelson." He bowed, holding out his hand and she took it, allowing him to kiss hers.

"I shall be on my best behavior, you have my word." She smiled, taking her hand back.

"Then I would be happy to save you one dance. Just one." He couldn't help his amusement at her warning.

"By the end, you will want to dance the night away in my arms my dear." She rolled her eyes, retreating back inside.

"Thank you for the invitation. I guess I'll see you there, by the way, I'm not a conventional Omega. I don't wear pink." She smirked, closing the door and leaving him to laugh on his way back to the car.

"What was that about?!" Elijah demanded as he shut his door, not liking his brother going against what he had said and teasing the girl who he had only ever seen be kind to everyone, including himself which if you're a Mikaelson, you know is rare when someone knows who you are.

"You didn't smell that?" Elijah shrugged. "She smells fantastic. No...outstanding. No...sensational! I've never smelled an Omega like that, not even Tatia smelled like that, she's...wow..." He sank back into his seat as Elijah began driving again.

"I don't think I've ever seen you like this. Y/n's a sweet girl Niklaus, and she deserves more than your little one night Hump-N-Dumps." The hybrid nodded his head quickly.

"You're right, she does. She deserves everything...and I will give it to her! Starting with the dress! It has to be perfect...and I think I have just the one in mind." Elijah rolled his eyes, driving closer to town and making Klaus look around. "Where are we going?"

"To drop off your invitation for Miss. Forbes."

"No. There's no time. Forget Caroline, home! We have to go home!" He insisted and the look on Elijah's face was a mix of shock and genuine concern now, the last thing he ever expected was his brother to give up on Caroline for Y/n.

They went home and Klaus was out of the car quickly, running to the attic where much of the old clothes they had were kept, he came back down with a large box 10 minutes later, holding what Elijah assumed was a dress.

"I'll be back!" He shouted and Elijah looked back to Kol, Finn, and Rebekah.

"I'm telling you, this is either the moment of his redemption, or the moment of his demise, I'm not sure which. Let's just hope Miss. Y/L/n doesn't treat him like Miss. Forbes did or were all in trouble." They all knew Elijah was right. Klaus had been infatuated with a women only a handful of times in his life but something about the look on his face was different this time and they all noticed it. Even with Caroline there was a certain level of cockiness to their brother but the way Elijah had explained him looking at Y/n...they were all more than a little concerned.

Y/n's POV

Another knock on the door startled me and I had just jumped out of the shower making me pull on a pair of sweat pants and a tank top with nothing underneath. "Hold On!" I shook my wet hair out and yanked the door open to see Klaus again, this time with a large box in his hands.

"Hello Kitten."

"Hi." It took me a second for the 'Kitten' to register but when it did I couldn't stop the blush that overtook my cheeks. "I-I thought the ball wasn't until tomorrow-"

"It isn't, I just...I wanted to make sure you had the dress. I knew I had the perfect one for you." He handed it to me and I was touched but also skeptical, knowing everything I've been told about him.

"Thank you...if I open this and it's a short skirted, low cut thing that shows everything I have I'm going to slap you." I informed him and he looked stunned.

"Of course not! I would never do you the dishonor...not in public at least, I would never want anyone but me to see you in such a way. I would like that to be for my eyes only." I giggled at what I thought was his attempt at a joke before I saw he was serious. "I'm interested in you, I can't believe I haven't met you before now and I intend to make my feelings clear. I know you probably wouldn't accept being my date to the ball so I won't ask and upset you, but I haven't smelled an Omega who's scent was anywhere near as breathtaking as yours since I was a human and honestly, I believe ever."

I was stunned by his admission. "That's sweet Klaus. It would be sweeter if I didn't know you were already trying to get into Caroline's pants-" he cut me off as I set the box on the table beside me.

"Caroline isn't invited to the ball." My head snapped up to look at him quickly, shocked, knowing how insistent he had been for her to give him a chance, her having made me listen to several hours of her complaining about his advances. Honestly it was just annoying to hear a beautiful girl talk non-stop about how a sexy vampire being infatuated with her was somehow an inconvenience. "She said no to me for the last time so I'm letting Tyler go when I leave here and she's free to enjoy him. If she's determined to be with a cheating asshole who am I to stand in the way, and before you say it, this isn't me rebounding onto you or whatever humans say now a days. I would really like to get to know you. Not just take you to bed (although I admit that will be on my mind as my most prominent fantasy from now on) but get to know you. I want to know who Y/F/n is, your hopes and dreams, your likes and dislikes, hobbies and favorite foods. I want to take you to expensive dinners and on fun day trips, spend an ungodly amount of time with you until people are so fed up by how cute we are that they can't stand to be around us anymore...I want to say I want to fall in love with you but I think that ship sailed the moment you looked at me with those gorgeous Y/EC eyes. I will wait however long I must for you to give me whatever kind of chance you are willing, however I will start with one dance tomorrow night in this dress, with this on." He handed me a smaller box and I took it, his warm fingers touching mine for the first time and making my skin tingle. "This is yours now, your personal vervain filled necklace that I hope you never want to take off, it's been mine for a while and I'd really like you to have it...love to see you wearing it...I hope to see you tomorrow night love." He took my hand and kissed it, before retreating and disappearing just before I shut the door.

I was absolutely floored as I opened the dress box, it was like he knew exactly what I would want to wear and gave it to me. I then opened the smaller box he gave me and it was the necklace.

It looked old, very old and given his ancestry as well as how serious he seemed about it I assumed this necklace was a big deal to him, the feeling it gave me being enough to tell me that wearing this would be a promise to give him a chance, a real chance as my Alpha. I set it on my bedside table and relaxed with some Game of Thrones for the rest of the night, looking over at the necklace every few minutes unable to get it out of my head before sighing and taking my time to get it over my head, settling it on my chest and something about it just feeling right.

I took my time getting ready the next evening, calling an Uber and getting a ride to the house about 15 minutes late, not wanting to arrive right on time. Everyone seemed to already be inside when I got out of the Uber and I took a deep breath, walking in and quickly being handed a glass of champagne. "Thank you." The boy nodded and I looked around, walking through the ball room and the bar in aww of the house. "Damn...how do people afford this shit?" I mumbled to myself.

"Years of saving money." I gasped, jumping and turning around as I heard a voice in my ear, seeing Klaus standing behind me.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. That was rude, I didn't mean-"

"Not rude at all. I know I'm more well off than most, though I think it balances out considering I used to live in a one room hut with a dirt floor and 5 siblings."

"That sounds awful...but also sort of fun. I never had siblings, always felt like I missed out."

"There's positives and negatives. Don't tell them but I wouldn't give them up for anything." I nodded.

"I can tell how much you love your family, I think it's very sweet...misguided in some of the things you've done maybe, but loving. Thank you for the dress, it's perfect. I'm in love with it! I think I took like, 200 pictures of myself tonight." The smile on his face was well worth it.

"I'm glad, I was worried you wouldn't like it, it would be too dark-"

"Nothing is too dark for me. I wear black 99% of my life, I just feel the most comfortable in it." I finished the glass of champagne as I looked him over. "You clean up nice, really nice, love the hair." I giggled at seeing it slicked back.

"Are you making fun of me, Kitten?" I gasped dramatically.

"I would never!" He took the empty glass from my hand, placing it on a waiters tray before holding out his arm for me to take.

"Let me get you a drink, I'd like to show you something if I may." I shrugged as he led me to the bar, the bartender dropping everything to serve him first. "Bourbon and, what would you like sweet girl?" I blushed at the nickname before looking up at the man.

"Long Island?" He nodded and Klaus looked down at me as his bourbon was placed on the counter.

"You like fruity drinks? I don't know why I didn't expect that." I shrugged.

"My friends dad taught me to drink, he says you can't be an Omega and not know how to hold liquor in this day and age, too dangerous. I can handle just about anything, though you never have to worry about me stealing your bourbon." I told him, wrinkling my nose and he chuckled. "If I was going to drink something it would probably be some kind of whiskey, I like fireball. I just prefer things that don't taste like paint thinner if I can help it, taste better and get drunk faster, win win on the cocktails. Though I don't need to be smashed tonight so this will be the last for a while I think."

"We'll get you some water later?" He teased and I shoved him with my shoulder as he handed me my drink and took his own, leading me away from the crowd and through a door, up the back staircase.

"Are you going to murder me?" I joked and he leaned close, sniffing my neck, growling.

"Maybe I am." He was teasing me and I couldn't hide the chill that ran up my spine, making him smile.

"I think you have a lovely smile." His smirk returned as I said this and I shook my head. "Not smirk, smile. A real smile, you don't do it a lot but I'm assuming you do it a lot with me compared to other people. It makes your eyes light up." I looked up at him as we stopped outside a door and he looked down at me, shocked. "You have really pretty eyes." I admitted and I could see a faint blush on his face.

"You do as well, they're a deep, amazing green that I could get lost in for hours if you will let me someday. I also love this cute little button nose." He teased, running his finger down the bridge of my nose. "Perfect cheek bones...lovely red lips that I-Uh...anyway!" He cut himself off. "I want to show you a painting I did last night. I just couldn't sleep until I got it out." Klaus opened the door, taking my hand this time and pulling me inside, leading me over to the fire place and looking up at the painting over the mantle...it was me...or at least I think it was. I definitely don't see myself like that, I'm beautiful. It's so bright and well proportioned, I could never in my wildest dreams do anything like this.

"Klaus...this is...this is amazing! Wow, I...just...wow!" I moved to the bed beside us and sat on the edge, looking up at it, sipping the last of my drink and putting the glass on the table.

"I would like to draw you naked next." He teased, sitting beside me and looking up at the painting. "I'm not being forward, I promise, I really am interested in you. I know it's only been a day but...I can't get you out of my head. I would like you to be my Omega, I'm sure you get that all the time from Asshole Alphas that think they can just decide that you're theirs but I...I want you to choose me. I want you to want me, want to be with me, want me to touch you and care for you and love you. I understand though if everyone has scared you off of me too much, I just hope that's not the case." He was right, people had tried to scare me when talking about Klaus, Damon and Stefan mostly, then Elena, once again pretending that everyone's lives revolve around her when in fact the only reason Klaus needed her was that she is a doppelgänger, not because she's just so amazing! Lastly Caroline, who, like I said, would rant to anyone who would listen about the struggles of having a sexy, rich, hybrid artist fawn over her and shower her in gifts and wonderful drawings. I sighed, getting up my nerve and standing, walking passed him and hearing him sigh as I shut the door, locking it. He seemed to think I had left and I was quiet as possible when I unzipped the dress, watching him gulp the rest of his drink while I dropped the dress to the floor, sliding onto the bed and laying my head on the pillows. He didn't seem to have noticed me before he stood up and turned to go to the door, seeing my dress on the floor, freezing before turning his head and looking to find me laid out on his pillows in my bra and panties. "Holy fuck." He breathed out and I giggled.

"Are you planning to draw me or what? It's not exactly naked but-"

"You're perfect!" He cut me off, jumping to grab his sketch book and sitting at the bottom of the bed.

"How do you want me?" His eyes widened at my phrasing and I saw him try and discreetly adjust himself in his pants as he crept closer, lifting my hand over my head before turning the other one up and just as he was about to adjust my hips he stopped and looked at me, asking permission with his eyes and I found it sweet, making me nod.

"If anyone else ever sees this Klaus I swear to God-"

"I'll gouge their eyes out with a rusty spoon. No one will ever look at you like this and live to tell the tale again...and this...this means what I hope it does? That you want to be mine...that you'll let me be your Alpha? Treat you the way you deserve?" I smiled, nodding again and he moved his hands to shift my body into a better position for how he wanted to sketch me.

"Don't really know what you mean by the way I deserve but...I would like to call you Alpha." I answered and it seemed to be enough.

"I want you to only call me Alpha...or Daddy." He spoke as he began his sketching, causing me to purr at the idea and him to need to adjust himself again.

"Are you going to be able to go back to the party with that?" I questioned, looking at the bulge in his pants and he chuckled.

"I'll be okay once I go to the bathroom." I rolled my eyes but stayed still while he worked and I loved the intensity in his eyes as he drew me.

We were in there for about a half hour before he finished and once again I was breathtaking. "I just work with what you give me." He helped me back into the dress and led me back down the stairs to the party just as they were giving a toast. He stopped me at the bottom of the stairs and joined his family as Elijah spoke, taking a champagne glass as I did and drinking. I walked to the bar while Klaus spoke to Elijah about something before feeling a hand on my arm and turning to see Caroline.

"Where have you been Y/n?"

"Nowhere." I took my drink and tried to walk around her but she stopped me again.

"Klaus didn't invite me to this himself, I had to come as someone's date, do you know why?" I shrugged. "Because he asked you."

"I think technically Elijah asked me, that's who my invitation was from anyway, but yes, he finally decided to let you be happy with Tyler like you wanted. Go enjoy him. Have fun, be free of the man you called a nuisance." She glared at me, taking her own drink.

"I wanted to have Tyler and enjoy being chased by a hot hybrid, until you." I didn't know how to respond to that.

"You always said you hated his annoying advances, and how am I to control who he chases?"

"Turn him down!"

"Cause that worked so well for you?"

"Tell him to leave you alone, you don't like him, he should go back to chasing me, he'll listen. I'm sure he misses me." I rolled my eyes, turning to walk away. "Don't walk away from me!" She demanded, grabbing my hair and pulling me back, making me growl, grabbing her hand and pulling it away, breaking several fingers in my grasp.

"Don't forget how much older than you I am, I'm not fighting you for Klaus, he's already mine. He stopped compelling Tyler and he's free to be with you now, be happy and stay away from me."

"Ladies? Everything alright here?" I heard my Alphas voice and it calms me like nothing else, even this fast after just accepting being his Omega.

"Yes Alpha, all okay here. Caroline was just telling me how grateful she is to you for releasing Tyler." Her glare became even stronger as she heard what I called him and he knew it was a lie but went with it.

"You're welcome Caroline. I realized you were right, you and I never would have worked. Is he here with you?" She shook her head and I knew I had seen Tyler here.

"Is...is he with someone else?" I couldn't stop myself from asking and her eye twitched slightly. "Oh god Care, I'm so sorry!"

"If you're sorry you'll do what I asked." She told me and I laughed.

"I'm sorry you got dumped but that doesn't mean I'm giving you my Alpha just because the option you liked better is gone. He's a person, not some toy you can put down and pick up whenever you want to play with him, you treated Klaus like shit, I'm not going to make that mistake. I'll treat my Alpha like the king that he is." I told her, reaching up and brushing my fingers down his jaw, loving the happiness in his eyes as I did.

"My sweet girl." He rumbled happily in his chest, kissing my forehead. The next thing I knew I was covered in what I'm assuming was champagne as Caroline threw her drink on me and I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

"I liked this dress Care, that was a mistake." She scoffed, about to say something snotty when I reached my hand up and drilled my fist straight into her face. I got 4 punches in before my Alpha finally stopped me, everyone in the bar area, which thankfully was only about 10 people, were now staring at us in shock, her face now gushing blood all over her dress as I had very clearly broken more than just her nose. "You know I hit like a man Care, I don't throw bitch punches! Shouldn't have thrown your drink on me!" Klaus began carrying me to the back door to get us out of here. "Stay away from my Alpha! Next time I'll break every bone you have!" I shouted before he finally shut the door and hauled me into the kitchen where no one was allowed and back up to the top of the stairwell.

"That was uncalled for Y/n...but thank you."

"I get that you're kind of a dick but that's no reason to treat you like trash, you're not trash. Been nothing but nice to me..." I nuzzled into his neck and he held me tightly to his chest despite the champagne all over me. "I need a shower...I should go home." I admitted and he whined sadly. "I don't want to either but I don't have any clothes with me, just my clutch that I left in your room-"

"Borrow something of mine to sleep in, shower and stay here tonight. We'll abandon the rest of the party, substitute the dance you promised for some cuddling?" I considered it for a moment before sighing, knowing I was going to say yes.

"Okay Alpha, I'll spend the night. Just get me out of this, I'm starting to feel sticky." He lifted me up, blurring to his room and shutting the door behind him, setting me on the bathroom floor. He leaned down to turn on the water and I quickly dropped the dress, bra unhooking along with it and panties coming down as he set the water to a good temperature.

"Alright, that should be good. Leave your clothes and I'll take them when I leave something you can sleep in on the coun-" he cut himself off as he turned to see me now completely naked.

"Or, you could go get me the clothes, throw those into the hamper and join me in the shower, I think you have some champagne on you too, better safe than sorry, don't you think?" I pulled him close to me, hand on the back of his neck as I pulled him to my level, noses brushing, lips so very close and I noticed his breathing quicken. "My Alpha. Mine." I growled and he groaned, prompting me to connect our lips roughly. His hands found my waist and he pulled me close, trailing them down to my ass where he squeezed firmly causing me to moan against his lips. He used that to his advantage, shoving his tongue between my them and exploring my mouth almost obsessively, as if he expected me to stop him any minute, which I did as I shivered with a chill.

"You're cold. Get in the shower, I'll be right there. Is a shirt and boxers enough or do you need more cause I can snatch something from Rebekah-"

"It's fine Alpha, just hurry up." His eyes trailed over my body as he backed out of the room, rushing quickly to his dresser as I stepped into his shower which was an amazing shower that very clearly had heated floors and a marble seat just out of the water. The shower head was rectangular, about 2 feet long in the very large space and directly over head. The glass wall of the shower was charcoal, not completely clear glass which I loved and the walls seemed to be black quartz or something, his bathroom being overall dark but still light enough that it was inviting and I was instantly in love with it, even the water pressure being perfect. "Getting lonely!" I called out as he took too long.

"You're very distracting. Sorry." He admitted and I turned my head to see him shirtless and leaning against the counter, my dress was gone and instead there were 2 sets of clothes on the sinks. I leaned my head back under the water, turning my body around so he could now see the front of me, my nipples hard at the idea of being watched by him for who knows how long and I could feel my pussy was soaked while he just continued watching me.

"How long is my Daddy going to stand there watching?" He growled, eyes shining yellow as I called him that for the first time.

"As long as I want Kitten, can't I just enjoy the sight of my Omega?" The emphasis he put on that was possessive and to anyone but an Omega might be scary but I adored it, loving and craving someone wanting me so terribly.

"Hmm, guess I'm going to have to get myself off, huh?" I trailed my hands from my hair where they were brushing through in the water, over my chest and squeezing my breasts lightly before slowly turning back around and away from him as one hand stayed on my tit and the other tailed down to my pussy.

"Y/n, turn around." He warned and I threw my head back, gasping at the feeling of my fingers on my clit. "Omega! Now! Don't be naughty our first night together, Daddy knows you're a good little girl. I just want to watch you for a moment, why are you denying your Alpha?" I whimpered at the thought, my Omega brain now set on the fact that this man is my Alpha, this man is going to be my mate and even unbonded all I want to do is please him, making me turn back around and him groan as he sees my 2 fingers on my clit, rubbing slowly. "Such a fucking tease Y/n." He growled, palming over his length, now hard under his boxers and suit pants.

"You too. Want you Alpha, please? I'm so wet for you!" My eyes had closed at some point but they snapped open as I heard his belt clatter and he quickly unbuttoned them, letting them and his boxers fall around his ankles, kicking them off and hopping into the shower beside me. I reached my hands out for him and he took them, placing them onto his shoulders, pulling my body flush against his so I felt his cock against my lower belly as he wrapped his arm around my back, the other hand grabbing my chin and turning it to face up at him as he leaned down, pressing our lips together again.

"All mine sweet girl, all mine. I'll never get tired of saying it. Mine!" I whimpered, nails digging into his back as his hips rocked against my body, cock rubbing against my damp skin to gain some friction.

I opened my eyes, looking up at him and grabbing his hips to make him stop, his eyes quickly looking down at me. "Mine." I stated, nothing else, just one word.

"Yours, all yours little wolf-"

"If she comes near you again you tell me and I'll kill her. Don't want her to even look at you, you understand?" I questioned and he smirked.

"I have myself a jealous little thing, don't I-"

"She doesn't care for relationships or mating, she has no respect. She would touch you, no one will ever touch you besides me again." He looked stunned, whether it was by my attitude or the fact that he was only going to be with me for eternity I didn't know. "If that's not what you want, let me go now-" the growl that escaped him was vicious as he grabbed ahold of my hips, pinning me to the wall.

"You think I did all this only to use you once?! You're mine Omega! All fucking mine! No one else will ever touch you again, my hands, my tongue, my cock-"

"No one will ever touch you again either. Can you live with that?" He snorted, smiling and nodding.

"Of course Y/n. I want you to be my mate. If she ever even bats her eyelashes at me suggestively I promise I will tell you. Now, no more talk of Caroline, let me have you. All mine pretty girl, All Fucking Mine!" He grabbed ahold of my waist, lifting me up and I wrapped my legs around his hips, snuggling close and pressing my lips to his as he guided his cock to my entrance, wasting no time in waiting to have and mark me after this incident, needing us both to be sure that no one else would ever come between us again, needing to mark each other so no one could ever steal our mate again. "Fuck! So tight Omega, so fucking perfect for me!" He groaned, needing to take it slowly until he bottomed out so as not to hurt me.

"Alpha! So big Alpha, stretching me so good! Never...so big..." I whimpered at the pain though I was enjoying it as well and he could clearly see that as he pulled back from my neck to look at my face.

"All mine, my tight, little pussy! Gonna mark you up so good no one will ever even be able to imagine fucking you without seeing my face. Tell me...tell me I can move?" I took a deep breath before nodding and he pulled back, easing his cock back into me before doing it once more and slamming home the third time.

"Fuck! Oh My God Daddy!" I used the wall behind me as leverage to hump my hips into him, my legs tightly wrapped around his waist.

"Daddy's here sweet girl, all Daddy's." I honestly don't understand how he hasn't put a hole in the wall behind me yet but I wasn't about to complain, never having been fucked quite like this in my life.

"Daddy! So good! Never been so good!" The rumble that came from his chest was a pleased sound, clearly he was very happy to know he made me feel so good where other Alpha's failed. He pulled me closer, if at all possible, turning and sitting on the shower seat so that he could thrust up into me, slamming his cock into me even harder and making me cry out in a mixture of mild pain and intense pleasure. "Da-ddy! Don't st-op! Never Stop! Want you to fuck me forever!" I felt tears leak from the corners of my eyes as my lower belly tightened, a feeling I had only ever given myself in the past. "Oh...oh shit...Alpha...I...I need-"

"I know Omega, Daddy knows what you need. Your Alpha will always give you everything you need, my pretty little Kitten. Cum for me Y/n, cum all over your Alphas cock, cum for me while I mark this perfect little neck-"

"Daddy! Oh Daddy!" I couldn't stop the squeal that came from my throat as my pussy constricted around him, the tension in my tummy finally becoming too much as my fangs dug into his neck.

"There's my girl, so good for me, such a perfect little princess, cumming so good for her Alpha. Fuck...so tight around me, so close I-" I scratched my nails up his shoulders and squeezed my pussy as tightly as I could before feeling him finish, heat spreading through me as he came, quite a lot it seemed, stilling inside of me and burying his face into my neck. His fangs digging into my neck was the next thing I noticed, feeling the burn of his venom spreading through me though it didn't hurt, at least not right away.

As I felt truly finished with injecting my venom I released his throat, relishing in the feeling of the pleasurable heat inside of me and my mates skin pressed all over mine just a second before the venom in my neck began to burn. I could tell he was still pumping me full of venom and cum so I stayed still, ignoring the pain for as long as I could, my nails digging into his skin again though this time out of genuine pain as the burning got worse, now spreading through my veins.

As a vampire, half of his venom is toxic to me, though the vampire in him as well as his werewolf half needed to mark me desperately, and as his Omega it's all I wanted, needing to mark my Alpha as well. It would be perfectly fine as long as he heals the negative effects the werewolf part of the venom could have on my body though it would be days before I was in any real trouble. I underestimated how badly the venom spreading would hurt though, just wanting my Alpha to be able to enjoy this moment that he's been waiting for, for over 1000 years. Unable to hide it any longer I accidentally let out a pain filled whimper and he seemed to snap back to reality, pulling his fangs away and looking down into my eyes. The pain eased as he released me and I smiled up at him, kissing my Alpha and hearing that happy rumble in his chest, starting to purr for him but not being able to hold it very long, trying again for only a second and making him pull back from the kiss to look at me, concerned. "Omega?" I whimpered and he looked over me slightly before seeing the black veins spreading from the mateing mark he had delivered me. "Oh God, I'm so sorry!" I shook my head as he bit into his wrist and pushed it between my lips. "I didn't even think about that! My venom is toxic to you...I can't even mark you without hurting you..."

"No!" I whined as I felt the pain disappear. "Loved it Alpha, didn't start hurting right away. Just need to drink when you mark me from now on, I didn't think about it either. Next time I'll take some of your blood and it won't hurt me a bit." I reached my hands up to his face and pulled him close to kiss me again.

"Promise me? Don't let me hurt you-" I shook my head.

"Loved it Daddy, didn't start hurting for almost 10 seconds. Just gotta drink from now on, please don't stop? Need you to mark me Alpha! Need it!"

"No, no, Shh. Of course I'm going to mark you sweet girl, nothing will stop me! Daddy will never deny his Omega his mark, I promise. Don't worry, all mine." He leaned back in, pressing his lips to his mark and giving me a chill straight down my spine.

"Snuggle Alpha?" I questioned, my eyes feeling drowsy as my glands began the job of settling his scent all through my bloodstream and body, adjusting to my new mated status which was a bit of a stressful thing on an Omegas body. Settling an Alphas scent takes some time which is why most newly mated pairs don't emerge from their nest again for several days.

He seemed to be able to tell right away, nuzzling into my neck and kissing over his mark. "Of course sweet girl, Alpha will always snuggle you-"

"Always? Love snuggles Alpha." He nodded, pressing his lips to mine.

"Always. My precious girl will never be deprived of her Alphas warm arms wrapped around her." He shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a black towel around me to keep me warm as he quickly dried himself off and pulled on his boxers, caressing me with the towel quite thoroughly until I was dry enough to put the boxers on as well as the Henley shirt. He wrapped my hair up in a bun so I could deal with it later and hoisted me back into his arms, blurring us to his bed and snuggling me to his chest. We spent quite a bit of time just snuggled like that until there was a knock on his door making my Alpha sigh, kissing my head and jumping up. "What can I help you with brother?" He questioned as he opened the door to find, I'm assuming, Elijah.

"You left in the middle of the party brother and it smells like sex in here. Don't you dare tell me you brought someone up here when you're meant to be 'woo'ing Y/n! I told you, she's a sweet girl and she deserves more than half your attention or a one night Fuck! I swear to everything that is holy Niklaus, I-"

"It's okay Elijah...I think I'm going to be here for a while." I spoke up, sitting up in the bed as Nik moved enough for Elijah to see me.

"Oh...that was fast. Much faster than I anticipated..." he stopped himself, pushing passed his brother and appearing beside me, tilting my head to bear my throat which made me whimper and Nik snarl quite loudly. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me, I just-"

"She’s not settled yet brother,she needs to sleep if you don't mind." He pulled his hands away, stepping back.

"My apologies Y/n, I would never...um...we can talk another time then." I nodded, scootching away from the suited man. “Damon snapped Kol’s neck-"

"What?!" Nik growled and I whined. He was suddenly by my side again, kissing my head to relax me.

"I don't know much but they seem to have made each other upset. Everyone has left, mother seemed to have enjoyed herself." I flinched slightly and Nik looked down at me.

"What was that?" I shook my head.

"Nothing. I don't want anything to do with it, just like I told Damon...please leave me out of it?" I begged, not wanting anything to do with their clearly corrupt mother.

"Do with what Omega?" I bit my lip to stop from saying anything. "Omega..." he warned and I sighed.

"Your mother wanted to talk to Elena tonight about something important. She thinks your mom still wants to kill you but she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted. She was supposed to meet her tonight, I don't know anything else. I don't want to know, I don't Alpha." He looked at Elijah, seeming to have a silent conversation.

"We can talk tomorrow about it, don't you worry sweet girl, you won't be dragged into anything anymore. I'll come see you in the morning brother. My Omega needs to sleep."

"Of course. Good night little one." I waved to my suited friend.

"Night night Eli." He shut the door behind him and Nik snuggled back into me.

"You sleep my love. We will spend the whole day together tomorrow, and you will feel all better."

"Yes Alpha. All better." I mumbled, my eyes drifting shut and my body giving way to sleep.

'Where did you go last night? Caroline said you are dating Klaus now?!' The text from Damon was what woke me up, Nik still asleep wrapped around me as I grabbed my phone from the clutch on his bed side table.

'I don't know what she's on about but I went home. I had enough to drink and she got snappy because Tyler was with another girl. Why? Is something going on again?'

I looked back at Nik, brushing my fingers through his hair and kissing his nose as he began moving. "Good morning." I whispered and he smiled, opening his eyes to see me.

"Best morning. The best morning I've ever had in 1000 years of life, waking up with my Omega in my arms for the first time. I love you." He pressed his lips to mine just as my phone dinged again.

"I love you too Alpha. You're going to wake up with me in your arms for the rest of forever. Enjoy it." I looked back at my phone, opening the messages and knowing I couldn't not tell Nik about this instantly.

'Esther is using Elena's blood to help bind her children together and kill them. The usual in this town I think.'

"Daddy? I need you to promise me that if I show you something you're not going to get angry. I need you to remember our bond is still settling and I need a calm environment and a loving mate." He looked startled by this.

"I would never upset you, especially not now, and you're always safe with me. Why, what's wrong?" I handed him the phone and let him read the texts. "Sweet girl, I'm going to borrow this for a moment to show my brother. You wait right here, nice and calm, nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about." He said all that but rushed from the room rather quickly making me sigh before seeing Kol walk passed the room, glancing in and seeing me.

"Hello...who are you?" His smirk showed all his teeth in a threatening way making me pull the blankets closer.

"Your brothers Omega." Was my answer and he held his hands up as if to show me he was unarmed.

"Congratulations. Niklaus has always wanted an Omega. I'm surprised one was finally stupid enough to give him the time of day." I hissed at that, baring my teeth this time, making him smile. "Where did Nik run off to, leaving his settling Omega?"

"To tell Elijah that your mother is trying to kill you." His face fell at that before sighing.

"I knew it. I knew her loving us was too good to be true, I can't believe I..." he sighed and I could see the hurt on his face, making me take his hand to comfort him. He looked up at me, considering me for a moment before smiling a little. "Thank you. You're a sweet Omega. Nik got himself a good one it seems. I actually thought she might be serious this time, I...I feel stupid." I shook my head quickly.

"No matter how old you are she's your mom. The fact that she's trying to hurt you is unnatural and monstrous, don't feel badly sweetie." I pulled him close and he laid down, head now on my lap as I ran fingers through his hair.

"Can I stay here until Nik comes back?" I considered it and seeing as he wasn't being threatening I nodded, patting the bed beside me, him crawling up and snuggling into me, head on my chest, wrapping the blankets around me but staying on top of them himself which I found kind. I ran my fingers through his hair as he snuggled into me, enjoying whatever kind of comfort he was getting from me right now.

We stayed that way silently for about 20 minutes and just when I was drifting back off to sleep Nik walked back in. "Thank you for being patient my love, I...KOL!" We both jumped, him having startled both of us from a half sleep making me whine loudly. "No, no. Calm down my sweet, it's alright. Kol, what are you doing." He was trying very hard not to snap and growl at him and I very much appreciated his trying.

"Nothing! Your Omega is very comforting, I like her Nik. You picked a good one. She gives me head scratches."

"Kol, I'm trying very hard right now, you see that don't you? Very hard not to kill you."

"No killing. Go Kol, we can hang out sometime I'm not so newly mated, okay?" He looked over at me and nodded, jumping over me out of the bed.

"Thanks Y/n...you're not so bad."

"Thanks?" He shut the door behind him and Klaus took his place as soon as he was gone.

"What was that?"

"I told him about your mom and...it really upset him. I guess he tried to convince himself she was being real this time. It's natural. No matter how old you are there will always be a part of you that just wants your mom, and your mom is kind of a cunt it seems so that really does a number on you I'm sure." He nodded and I kissed his head, holding him to my chest to snuggle and go back to sleep before the door burst open again. "I'm going to have to go home to get some sleep in this fucking house!"

"What is this I hear about you saying our mother wants us dead?!" Rebekah was now in the room, hissing angrily and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm leaving."

"No! No you're not my love, lay down. No one else will come in, I promise. Out Rebekah! Sleep pretty girl, Alpha will be right back." I sighed, laying back down as he forced her out.

"Alpha? Are you kidding me?" He shoved her violently before shutting the door and that's the last I heard for a while until the door opened again and I saw Finn.

"Is the whole Mikaelson family going to pay a visit today?" I was immediately nervous when he closed the door behind him, making me move away.

"I never actually thought an Omega would get into bed with my devil brother. You know it's why he really daggered me don't you? Because I told him such?"

"Well I don't think he's the devil. I mean, he's a Dick, but not the devil, and he's nothing but good and kind to me. Finn...you're scaring me, p-please? Please leave?" I felt tears well up in my eyes as he stepped closer anyway.

"Why does my little brother, the worst of us all, get to be happy when my Sage is dead and I have to live alone? Answer me that little Omega, hmm?" I was instantly confused by that as I finally jumped from the opposite side of the bed.

"Sage? The girl that taught Damon to be a vampire? The red head? She's not dead!" He glared as I said it, appearing in front of me instantly and grabbing my throat tightly, holding me against the wall.

"Don't you lie to me! My mother told me that she was gone-"

"Mother...lie...wants...dead..." I choked as well as I could with his tight grip.

"What?" He released me and I fell to the floor instantly.

"ALPHA!" I screamed as loudly as I could, shoving the bedside table out and hiding behind it.

"Is she really alive? Really?" I nodded, cowering away as he looked at me but stopped coming closer, standing with a shocked look on his face as the door was thrown open violently and suddenly my Alpha was growling at Finn angrily.

"What are you doing?!"

"Nothing I...I'm so sorry little one...thank you..." he was gone instantly and Nik was in front of me looking very sorry.

"I'm so sorry love. My first day as your Alpha and I'm rubbish at it...come, let's get you comfortable. No one else will come in, I will make sure of it. Trust me?" He held his hands out and I paused but took them, allowing him to settle me into bed before he went back to the door. "The Next Person Who Enters This Room Without My Permission Will Get Their Throat Ripped Out! UNDERSTAND?!" I heard a few scattered 'yes'' before he was gone again making me whine, returning 10 seconds later. "I'm having breakfast made for us my love. They will knock and leave it by the door for us so you don't have to see anyone else. I'm so sorry pretty girl. So sorry." I nuzzled back into my Alphas neck and let him hold me, only wanting his comfort after everything that had just happened. "Nap until the food comes, we'll eat and watch a movie, then I'll scent you again. That should help. Relax." He was petting my head as he made that familiar rumbling sound in his chest that calmed me, sending me right off back to sleep in his arms. I didn't wake back up until there was a light knock on the door and Nik jumped up, getting the tray from the maid who didn't even try to come in. "Hungry Kitten?" I nodded and he kissed my head, taking the top off of the tray and revealing 2 omelets, a plate of sausage, a plate of toast, and a plate of bacon. "Eat baby, you're safe. I promise, nothing is going to harm you again. I don't care if it's Elijah himself, if someone comes through that door their neck is getting snapped. Safe to eat." He kissed my forehead again and turned on the tv. He wrapped himself around me and I ended up feeding him as he rubbed himself over my skin, scenting me.

"Wanna stay like this forever Alpha." I admitted and he stopped his movements, kissing my head and turning me to see him.

"Then we will, we'll stay in this room, have our meals brought to us on silver platters, do nothing but snuggle, eat, sleep and mate for the rest of our existence." His teasing made me giggle as I leaned against him, laying back down to sleep again and he continued. "No more mother, or Salvatore's, or pesky annoying siblings, just mated bliss forever, all for you my lovely Y/n." He kissed my shoulder as I drifted off again. I knew there would be problems to be dealt with tomorrow and the next day and probably the next day but for now I would relax and just enjoy this contentment, the beginning of a long and happy life with my Alpha.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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myokk · 2 months ago

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fast sketch of ominis & fast intro to the ominis longfic I'm working on!! This is going to be the most self-indulgent pride and prejudice ripoff that ever existed, 100% based on the ominis of my oneshot💘

I am just OBSESSED with exploring the idea that he’s a natural legilimens & OBSESSED with the thought that he thinks too much for his own good🫶🫶🫶

Ominis Gaunt has always suspected he is cold-blooded.

It makes sense, really.

He always seems to be cold: frigid, long fingers that are often stiff and difficult to move; goosebumps raising the skin of his arms and the back of his neck any time he walks through the drafty halls of the dungeons; even his eyes, he has been told, are reminiscent of ice. They are apparently quite unsettling. The only time he feels comfortable in his body is when he basks in the heat of the sun.

His earliest memory is of the cold. It went like this: he was four years old: his older brother, Marvolo, had led him outside as a joke, he swore up and down that it was just a small joke, and how was he supposed to know that poor, blind Ominis would not be able to find his way back home? When his parents had finally found him, his frail mother sobbing and holding his tiny, blue, hypothermic body to her chest, Ominis remembers feeling quite perturbed at the disturbance. Couldn’t he just be left alone, in the silent soft snow?

He does not know if he has ever felt warm since.

As he strides through the dungeons, the copious amount of warming charms he casts on himself do not seem to be enough, but he keeps casting them anyways and also: wrapping his wool scarf more tightly around his neck, quickening his pace in the hopes that blood flows more easily through his limbs, wishing that he had remembered his gloves. Winter is always a terrible time of year (this winter more terrible than usual), and every breath of warm air leaves his lips reluctantly. How he wishes that he could just hold on to it a bit longer and yet the warmth leaves him precisely fifteen traitorous times a minute, the frigid air gleefully entering and burning its way down his throat in response. Maybe it’s a punishment of some sort.

His whole life has been defined by punishments and sometimes he preoccupies himself with the thought that it is the only way he can view the world. Most of the punishments are manifested in curses inherited from his family. (His parents and Marvolo insist that they are gifts, but Ominis begs to differ.)

First, his blindness: the only true punishment-curse that even his family rejects: caused by inbreeding, no doubt. He did not cry after his birth and his mother cradled his tiny body in silent arms, lovingly whispering nonsense-evil-Parseltongue to him but when he opened his eyes and she saw a brilliant celestine blue with no iris, she screamed in horror and shattered the frigid peace of the room. His parents tried everything to fix him, make him whole, throwing money at various possible solutions to no avail. Magically induced disabilities are not, apparently, curable by magic.

Ominis is not sure that he hates being blind, although he suspects everyone thinks that he should. It is as much a part of him as his fifteen-breaths-per-minute, and he thinks that vision is not all it’s cracked up to be. He is always terrified at the thought that his tenuous hold on sanity is only due to the fact that he cannot see, until he realizes he shouldn’t be terrified of hypothetical situations that cannot come to pass. He consoles himself with the thought that maybe, if he has had to give up his vision for his sanity, it is a small price to pay. Although, he also thinks sometimes that it would be nice to live a life without any morality holding him back.

He is entirely too introspective, after all.

It is precisely this introspection that is his downfall in this moment (and his cold blood). Ominis is so busy casting warming charms on himself and thinking in circles that he cannot use his wand to help him sense his environment and so he should not be surprised when he crashes into her.

And yet he is. Terribly surprised.

Maybe if he were not so caught up in his own thoughts he could have paid more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he spent too much time ruminating on his reptilian heritage and has now barreled head first into his arch-nemesis.

Rosalie Harris.

The girl who has stolen his oldest friend from him.

The girl who is currently making angry noises as she clambers to her feet and is picking up the things that he has crashed everywhere. Even if he could see, Ominis is not sure he would help her. Helping her would be akin to betraying himself, after all.

“Hey! Watch where you’re - oh, hello, Ominis.”

“Rosalie,” he says shortly, nodding his head where he thinks she might be standing and stepping to the side. He tightens his grip around his wand, feeling the texture of the wood change from rough to smooth as he runs his thumb down it. Smooth where he always seems to worry it, rough where the wood refuses to yield to the brushes of his thumb.

He surreptitiously casts the spell - he has at least done it so many times he no longer needs to say it out loud - and his surroundings light up. Or, he supposes that is the most apt description, considering he cannot actually differentiate between light and dark. He senses Rosalie’s silhouette to his left - she is standing with her arms crossed and her foot taps impatiently as she waits for him.

Waiting for what? he thinks, slightly irritated. She never seems to leave him alone and he wracks his brain trying to think of something, anything he can say to get rid of her.

Maybe if he speaks in Parseltongue, she would finally be scared away for good. He does not really want that second reminder of his family’s curse, though.

His family preferred speaking in Parseltongue with each other, believing the ability made them morally superior to everyone else and Ominis had not even realized until he had arrived at Hogwarts that no, it was not normal. When his name had been called at the Sorting, furious whispers had erupted amongst all the students, and his every step (terrified, confused, unsure - he had still been getting used to using his wand to navigate his surroundings) to the stool at the front of the Great Hall was plagued with a susurration reminiscent of snakes. Except these whispers, sneaking their way into his mind, had been unkind and overwhelming.

(He had not realized in that moment that he was also hearing their thoughts.)

Maybe now, with Rosalie standing in front of him and just annoyingly waiting for Merlin-knows-what, Ominis should use his Legilimency to find out what Rosalie wants. (He hates it, though.) It would not be difficult. (The thought makes him shiver in horror because he doesn’t want to abuse the ability.) He can feel the edges of her mind, her magic, and all he has to do is reach out - she is right there, and -

“Ominis?”

Her arms are crossed, he hears an impatient huff.

Why hasn’t she left him alone yet?

Hadn’t the Hogwarts Express already left the station, bringing all of the students home for the winter holiday? Ominis had thought he would be one of the only students left in the castle, and if he is being honest with himself, he had been looking quite forward to having the place to himself.

Ominis’s winter has just gotten infinitely worse.

Going to Gaunt Manor for the holidays is out of the question (he will not think about the nightmares that have been plaguing him ever since he received the owl demanding he go home), and Ominis does not want to be more of a burden to the Sallows. They already do enough for him over the summer, and Sebastian and Anne have convinced him to go to Hogsmeade with them at least twice over the next two weeks. Besides, with Anne’s curse progressing, Ominis does not want to be in the way.

“Why are you still here?” Ominis asks. He knows his voice comes across as cold as his blood, blunt, but he cannot help himself. Ever since Rosalie arrived - her entrance to Hogwarts also causing quite the stir - Ominis has been intensely annoyed by her presence. She is too happy. Too carefree. Too…well, everything he is not.

And, she does not seem to leave him alone.

Rosalie is always there, always hanging around Sebastian. (Taking Sebastian away.) He even showed her the Undercroft, which had almost caused a rift in their relationship. Ominis could not believe that Sebastian would be so careless, showing someone who for all intents and purposes is crashing her way into their lives, forcing them to pay attention to her. They barely even knew her, and yet Sebastian thought it was a good idea to show her such a sacred place?

(It does not help that she is intelligent, and Ominis has caught himself on more than one occasion about to ask her about her opinion on something before he catches himself.)

“I was looking for you.”

Ominis tilts his head at that and fiddles with his ring. He considers walking away, leaving -

“I mean…Sebastian said that you were also going to be here over the holidays and since everyone else just left I thought -”

“Thought what?” Internally, Ominis winces at the biting tone to his voice. It came out harsher than he intended, his voice loud and echoing through his mind, bouncing off the cold, stone walls surrounding them.

#the girl’s name and gender tbh is subject to change #I’m having a lot of fun writing this up but it was all just written up on a whim #idk when I’ll FULLY be able to commit to this #but I always have so much fun writing his POV #SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!! & forgive the messy sketch😆#honestly most of this is subject to be edited and/or changed #bc you are getting my writing before any editing whatsoever here😳#I just love the idea of Ominis being so full of conflicting pride and shame and lots of confusion #and the love interest to be so annoying and bratty and headstrong #basically an Elizabeth Bennet you know…she always thinks she’s right (she isn’t) and her first impressions are the law #I’m actually reading Mansfield Park now…Jane Austen please bless me as I write tonight😌🙏#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hphl #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanart #also I have WAY MORE WRITTEN!!! mostly just unconnected ramblings from his pov about how he thinks about life #& snapshots of his first year at Hogwarts 🥺🥺🥺#I really am an Ominis girl…#hogwarts legacy fanfic

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solitary-traveler · 7 months ago

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Ascent to Oblivion part 2 - echoes of regret

He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why. Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Notes: Ahhhhh, I'm finally free again! I'm so sorry for not posting for a while, I was busy. Anyways, thank you so much for being patient with me. Part 2 is finally outttt. Also, tried a new writing style? I decided to go for less editing on this one, I want to see if it's better in terms of writing emotions. Thank you for 100 followers btw. You guys are the best <33

Warning: reader is not traveler btw, scara's pov after the battle, slight angst?

Peace was a luxury that Scaramouche could never afford.

How could he, when the treachery was etched in the steps of his past ?

Yet the solitude that submerged the city of Sumeru leaves a bitter taste resting on his tongue. He settled beside a statue of the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, overlooking the city she once presided over. The region he was supposed to subjugate and bend to his will.

For once, he’ll be the one exercising control, toying with the strings of his very own marionette play. He’ll devote himself to the role of the puppeteer, finding delight in engineering the people to act according to his words and his words alone. To constrain them to kneel and beg for mercy, manipulating their resolve for his own amusement.

But alas, it was not meant to be. For he had been defeated by a pesky Traveler and their idiotic companions.

Scaramouche’s face soured.

What a disgrace.

His sharp eyes remained its scornful glare at the city. He can not stand staring at the tranquility he yearned to have. The gentle winds that rushed his way seemed to mock him further . It left a lingering caress on his cheek, offering a taste of what he’d been missing for 500 years. He scowls, the hatred evident in his features. A flurry of fallen leaves soon crashed in his direction, dancing away as it avoided him to catch up with the gust of air. One such leaf had landed on your face though, as you lay asleep beside him. He had almost forgotten he brought you here on a whim, despite the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s warnings.

Their conversation was still fresh in his mind. Having visited you a few times everyday, the Dendro Archon’s attention was caught. She harbored a small smile on her tiny face, her voice warm as usual.

“You don’t have to come here everyday you know?”

He recalls sighing in reply, “I know.”

“But I have to”

Have to, huh?

His answer never really made sense, even to him. He doesn't know why he possessed such a strong obligation to see you. Maybe it had something to do with the turmoil of emotions he was experiencing, raging in his non-existent heart and influencing his thoughts. He wanted you to awaken, yet he’s not sure why.

Maybe he wanted answers. A reasonable explanation for your absurd actions.

Scara still remembers that day. Every single detail. He can’t forget how your body pressed against his, the metallic red a cool contrast to his overheating skin. The way your arms encompassed around him, squeezing him tightly like you were terrified he’d vanish without a trace. He recounts the smash of the debris falling on you, a consequence you suffered for attempting to shield him from danger.

A stupid move, really.

He was a puppet, a mere rubble like that was not a threat to his utility. Yet you , with all your mortal characteristics, decided to play hero and shelter him from it. Now look where that got you.

Asleep .

For two whole weeks.

Why even bother doing something like that? He wasn’t someone you’d want to save. He had hurt you prior to his fall, yet with no hesitation, you jumped to catch him.

…You dumbass.

What’s so special about him anyways?

He was nothing more than a discarded puppet, a vessel that was tossed away. A broken doll who's shattered pieces had crumbled to dust, leaving behind a shell of who he once was.

What part of him was worthy of your adoration? To the point where you disregard your safety just to come to his rescue?

He was insignificant. A failure . A worthless scrap of metal.

The despairing sobs he vocalized that day served as a reminder that his existence was a mistake. He plummeted to a time in the past when a shed tear sealed his fate to be discarded. He expected you to do the same.

Yet you didn't .

You didn't abdicate him. You didn't push him away. You simply emboldened your hold and refused to let go. Your touch brought such fervor ardor he had never felt before, a fleeting emotion that loiters within his senses despite the passage of time. Your touch provided him the solace he'd been searching for. But did he even deserve that comfort?

He eyes your complexion, and his chest burns. What a cruel play by fate, charming the wires of affection out of his grasp and awarding it to you like a trophy.

If only you didn't catch him, then he wouldn't be this troubled.

If only you let him fall.

If only you never cared.

The burn starts to grow, the searing sting tormenting the foundation of his being. His stomach lurches, oh how badly he wants to throw up. Maybe he'll end up vomiting all these useless feelings too.

He wills to change the past, for a preferable outcome in the future. If he never existed, this dilemma would cease to exist. He wouldn’t have to suffer, and you would go on your merry way. Like a parallel line, your paths would never be bound to meet. Maybe then, you wouldn’t be asleep in the first place. Maybe you’d be out there somewhere, roaming Teyvat with the Traveler without the hindrance of his presence.

His existence bordered between pain and fury anyway, and he knew more than anyone how it was certainly a life not worth prevailing.

With a sigh, Scara narrowed those eyes of his in your direction. How dare you look so peaceful when he's over here, drenched in a scorching passion of self-hatred? The audacity to just remain there, with your pretty eyes closed, and not bother doing anything about it. He huffs, ready to hurl more insults at you. Maybe you’ll wake up from it, returning his jabs as you shoot him a dirty look. And yet…

“Sorry…”

Something entirely different tumbled out of his mouth. He blinks, barely registering the phrases ripped from his throat. Did he just-

“...I’m sorry”

Why was he apologizing? What was there to apologize for? He wanted to slander you for your interference in his life, not to beg for forgiveness.

A drop of water descends onto your cheek. Huh?

Was it starting to rain?

“...You idiot”

He stops. Has he always sounded like that? Strained… and distressed?

And why was his vision blurring?

“Please…”

The pang of discomfort bites him without a warning, and it hurts. It hurts so bad. His trembling hands reach out to you. He wants to nuzzle against your arms again, to have you drown out his sorrows in an act of intimacy he’s been longing for.

“Please wake up already”

Taglist: @featuredtofu, @slaylatus, @feikyuu, @yourfavoritefreakyhan, @materialgrowll,

@lxkeeeee, @l4r1n3, @cicil-nema, @alaynac101-blog, @beomtorii2,

@strawbeewie,

@gravy-kfc, @kaeeelie, @pocketdroll, @ladyvelvette, @mmeatt,

@itzshizuyaxd, @swivi

Taglist for (possible) part 3??

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zivazivc · 8 months ago

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What kind of nu metal music fits Les's band?

First of all I gotta clarify that I sent this ask myself because I accidentally lost the original through constant editing and drafting. I realize I could just make a regular text post but I'm quirky like that, and a question is a nice little attention grabber for those who are interested.

Anyway...

It's hard to point at one song and say this is their sound, because A: I'm picky, B: the band's style changes over time, and C: I don't know what I'm doing lmao

This answer is very long uhh I don't seem to be able to form short responses, mi scusi 😅

Back at home the brothers' music and then also the first year on the road with Flea the band sounds like the albums Music and especially Grassroots by 311. (Grassroots is such a banger of an album, I listen to it all the time, really recommend.)

Hed's the main influence on the band's sound because he's the main vocalist, songwriter and overall the most invested in the band succeeding (Les's main concern is making ends meet, and Flea is just enjoying the ride lol). At the start Hed and Les have had basically no contact with Rock Trolls so even though they're both more metal/punk than regular rock, their "rock side" is softer at this point. Hed also grew up with hip hop because of his peers so there's a lot of rapping in his lyrics. And he also incorporates reggae into his style a lot because of his favorite uncle, Kymani (one of the guys who live with Ish) who is a Reggae Troll. Hed is pretty much a sponge when it comes to music, much like Floyd. The closest I can come to describing his genre is a fusion of Rap Metal and Reggae Rock which are both already fusion genres jskksdjsk

(The band 311 has two singers and oddly they both sound like Hed and Les to me. SA Martinez (the higher of the two voices) sounds 100%, exactly like how I've imagined Hed's voice in my head. For Les I have a different voice claim because Les's personal style of music is much different from the band, but Nick Hexum (the lead vocalist here) is still in the second place when it comes to voice alone. Imagine my enthusiastic surprise finding voices for both brothers in the same band 😄)

examples from the two albums:

youtube

...

While driving around and performing small gigs they come in contact with the alternative and nu metal scene and meet a lot of Rock Trolls (mostly various Metal Trolls) and other mixed trolls, and in the following couple of years their sound gradually becomes heavier (Hed rediscovers screamo lol) and they go from rock to metal.

A year into their "touring" is also around the time Hed meets and starts dating Liv and gets her to join the band. Liv's genre has the heaviest sound of all of them (Industrial/EBM), which influences Hed and the band too. And with Liv on the drums, Hed takes over DJ-ing and is also able to put more focus on the vocals, which also makes Les step down and only sing backing vocals with the rest of the band if needed.

The band in this era sounds like the album Revolution by Insolence and to some degree Introduction to Mayhem by Primer 55.

examples from the albums:

youtube

...

Two years into the bands existence is when Floyd runs into them. At first he's more just standing there, observing their practices and performances warily, because he's had bad experiences with Rock Trolls in his one year alone and metal music still kinda freaks him out at this point. But he soon starts joining in in melodic parts and then it progresses into him singing longer and longer segments because he has the strongest vocals of everyone. And once he saves enough of his earnings for a guitar he starts playing the rhythm guitar too. (The guitar he took with him when he left the Troll Tree got stolen before he met the band.)

I guess I should clarify: Flea is the lead guitarist, Les is the bassist, and Liv and Hed switch on the drums and DJ-ing depending on the track. At one point they also get a keyboard.

It's also not that long before Hed and Floyd start actively writing songs together, sharing each others notes, and they start to split the singing parts more evenly. Hed even teaches Floyd screamo techniques, because he thinks Floyd has a great voice for them (He is correct, Floyd has a mean scream 😁).

During this time the band still pretty much sounds like Revolution by Insolence but with more melodic singing parts from Floyd (and screaming/shouting lmao). I think Verge of Umbra is another good band to compare, it sounds more clean and Floydy but still Hedy. (Man, I should write scientific research papers skjdkjf)

youtube

↑↑↑ song with the lyrics from the drawing at the top

youtube

From here on out I'm a bit unsure how the band's sound develops, but I'm pretty sure Floyd would unintentionally infect them with a mild case of radio friendliness (Pop trolls can't help their in your face nature lmao 😞). So for now I'm stopping here...

This took me days of searching and writing so I would appreciate to hear any thoughts you have if you've come this far and given some of the songs a listen. :)

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frolixkav · 2 months ago

Text

First meeting

Vash, after the space station crashed, began to undergo mutations as a result of which his size began to grow and, over time, he began to acquire the characteristics of a predator, teeth, protruding feathers, his pupils narrowed, which is more characteristic of dragons. His weight gain increased over 50-100? Years.

Vash found Nicholas near a canyon in Gunsmoke when he traveled on horseback to find the target he was supposed to capture when he signed the pact to free Nicholas from the reign of the Eye of Michael.

Nicholas did not expect to mess with something so huge, convinced that he would have to find a normal-sized human. The encounter was quite hectic, and he fell from his horse, which became frightened. when he shook off the daze, he saw the dragon already towering above him.

His pupils were narrowed and his gaze was predatory. He did nothing but watch him as his prey, nicholas noticed, however, that if he had wanted to kill him he would have done so at first. Vash approached him with his face and lightly smelled him as if trying to assess him, a slight grimace appeared on his face probably from the slight smell of cigarettes that was on nicholas' clothes, and he backed away slightly but was still interested in him.

He sat/crouched across from him watching him. Nicholas wanted to reach out his hand towards the punisher, but when he did so immediately Vash growled at him informing him not to do so… Nicholas felt like he was in a trap however he did not feel from Vash a mindless predator however he did not feel the typical threat from a dragon. he saw that the humanoid creature had intelligence.

After a moment of watching and gazing at each other, Vash moved his tail closer towards Nicholas and pushed the Punisher away from his body and came closer when he saw that Nicholas had become defenseless. Nicholas could only feel his heart pounding in his chest and his fear growing with each closer contact.

Vash let out a quiet growl coupled with a rumble, and his pupils dilated as if he saw something in him. Nicholas didn't understand what he meant, his eyes widened in fear as Vash grabbed his body in his fangs, yet he felt no pain, the dragon's embrace and pressing teeth were gentle despite Vash's size, which began to go somewhere with him.

After a time, Vash arrived at a cave that was hidden in a canyon, went down the cave and arrived at a place that looked like his refuge from the world. He leaned down and released Nicholas from his embrace, placing him delicately on the ground.

He looked at Nicholas assessing his condition, as if worried that something might have happened to him. Nicholas looked around at his surroundings, they were both in a hole(?) in the cave, so there was no way he could escape from there. He was left alone with a dragon that no one knew about and no one knew he existed at all.

Heyaa! I plan to complete it yet, bc I've been thinking for days how to expand this AU,, let me know what you think about it :33

#au dragon vash #trigun wolfwood #trigun #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas d wolfwood #vashwood #wolfwood #vash x wolfwood #giant/tiny

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

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venerawrites · 1 month ago

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helloo! back to humbly ask for more content for him hehe but this time I wanna add for his brother as well!💜

how they'd react to their s/o sacrificing themselves to save them/for their sake? how they are in their last moments together and how they handle the aftermath? I love the Uchiha boys being soft but i cant resist the angst sometimes 🫣

thank you again! adore your work as always!

author's note: I am in an angsty mood right now, so I literally RUSHED to my drafts, so I can finish this request! Thank you so much for sending it and I really hope I did it justice! <3

➤ Sasuke

The death of his s/o would be one of the two things: either the birth of the greatest villain to ever exist or the end of the 'ninja path' for Sasuke Uchiha.

It really depends on WHY did they sacrificed themselves for him or more importantly WHO took their life.

I think no matter when Sasuke has met them (before or after the war), he would take them as granted. He didn't even want to think about a scenario where they would not exist or be part of his life, let alone accept it.

So when they fell in front of him, a giant hole in their chest, his immediate reaction was shock.

This could not be happening... This should NOT be hapenning!

His whole body would be frozen and he would stay in place for at least a few minutes, till your weak attempt to mutter his name brings him back to reality. He immediately rush by their side, cradling their face in his hands while he kept muttering the same words over and over again.

"No, no, no... Don't close your eyes, you are fine! Don't... don't do this! Please!"

(the first and last time he ever said the word "please" to his s/o)

Once the realisation that there was still a battle going on hits him, his rage would erupt like a volcano. He would make sure that whoever is responsible for his s/o being gone would suffer not only painful, but also a gruesome death.

Now like I said above, why did his s/o sacrifice themselves for him and who was on the other side of the attack would be KEY details in shaping Sasuke's future.

I think if it happens way after the war (let's say 10 years+) and his s/o sacrifices themselves for him during mission or during an attack by foreign ninjas, he would most likely retire as a shinobi and seek quiet life somewhere outside Konoha.

(he not only looks like John Wick, but he also follows a similar path... 👀)

He would no doubt contribute their death to him being a ninja and I don't think he can accept the idea of continuing being one, knowing it has costed him so much. He lost EVERYTHING to that lifestyle and now all he had left were memories.

If his s/o, however, died during the war or shortly after, and have the fate to be killed by a Leaf Shinobi there is NO GOING BACK for Sasuke.

Full 100% Villain Mode!

I have no doubt that he will put all his effort, time and energy in avenging his s/o or even worse - try everything to bring them back to life!

Would wage a fifth and even a sixth world war if it means that he will finally find a way to destroy the villages, especially Konoha once and for all.

➤ Itachi

The idea of death never scared Itachi.

He was responsible for countless deaths, including the ones of his own parents, and he himself was clearly seeing the upcoming end of his own life.

Yet the idea of his s/o dying was not one that ever crossed his mind. He has always imagined that they would live many, many years after him, having a beautiful family with someone who can give them everything he could not.

I imagine his s/o would die either during the fight with Sasuke or shortly after.

Just like Sasuke he would be in disbelief and shock at first, but instead of just staying frozen to the place, he would rush toward his s/o and catch them before they hit the ground.

"No... What have you done? You should've stayed away, you should've listened to me!"

Itachi is usually calm and collected, but this may be one of the few times he actually loses control (or maybe even the only one?).

If his s/o was killed before that battle by some other enemy, he would kill his enemy the same way as Sasuke - slow and gruesome, leaving the battlefield a bloody reminder of what an Uchiha is capable of in the name of love.

If Sasuke was the one that took his s/o life, he would not hold back and unleash all his power, despite his weakened state.

He would forget all his initial goals and feelings when it comes to his little brother, and would use every attack in his arsenal with the sole purpose to kill.

However, in that instance, I do think there will be a moment where he will get some clarity before the end of the fight and he is immediately filled with guilt.

If his s/o has never met him, they would still be alive. The fault was not Sasuke's - it was only his.

This would be the key moment when he loses all determination to fight and let's his younger brother take his life.

With his s/o gone, he actually looks forward death. Because maybe someday, somewhere, in another life, he would have a chance to make things right.

That moment when Zabuza died next to Haku... yep, that is Itachi next to his s/o.

He would use the last remaining energy in his body to crawl over to them and slip his hand in their cold one.

(I think I may have made myself accidentally cry with this one... :( )

cc artwork: Karine Vilette

#sasuke x reader #itachi x reader #sasuke headcanons #itachi headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto headcanons #naruto requests

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themareverine · 23 days ago

Text

Closer to Hell | shortking!DP&WLogan x fem!OC

SYNOPSIS: He may be five inches closer to hell than she is, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch.

warnings: flirtation, short king!Logan (don't come for me), ogling, eye candy, absolutely nothing else but filthy thoughts, maybe some eye fucking.

a/n: it's my 100 celebration fic, yay me! i recently rolled over to 110 i think during the holiday, and i wanted to do something super fun for my 100 celly. i decided to play with comics-accurate, short king Logan, because i feel like we really don't appreciate him all that much. a small part of my brain hasn't stopped thinking about him. thanks to all my followers, you guys make me possible on this website, and without your interaction and all your fun stuff, life really would be so much more boring.

“Monkey Shoulder, neat—if you got it.”

Fingers pause, hovered over a tablet that looks as if it’s been to hell and back, only to survive the purgatory that is staring into the bartender’s face. Maybe forties, gray has overtaken the once-striking ruddiness of his beard, crows feet all but eating the templepieces of too-thick glasses perched on the end of his nose.

Once gawking at her has clocked enough time, he bats aside the tablet, the screen swiveling away, maybe in relief.

Curious if he’ll actually serve the scotch—it’s about the fourth bottle from the left of the very back row of liquors lined against the mirrored wall, not a cheap bottle by any means. Hardly top-shelf, either. An unusual request, sure, but, she’s always made a habit of trying out the screwy names when she’s traveling—and in this dress, in this bar, well. Exceptions certainly can’t be made. Cool vinyl of the barstool’s plush nips at the back of her legs as she plunks down, docking her heels on the bottom rung of the stool.

“Whatever you say, swee’heart,” gaps in his teeth make pronunciation difficult, but he nods at her respectfully. Lithe, practiced grace turns him aboutface on his heel, short fingers plucking the bottle from that very back shelf. Mirrored reflection reveals a popped brow of we’ll see how this goes. Giving the bottle a little swirl, the copper liquid spins a tornado, wild and dangerous in its glass prison. Unstops the bottle with a jerk of his wrist, the little pop tipping up the corner of her lips.

Seconds, maybe, and the short glass plunks down in front of her, untouched scotch all but begging to be acknowledged. Her finger lazily traces the rim, even from here she can taste the bark of the liquor, how it hums. Warm and biting, her chest flutters with anticipation—of all the drinks she’s sampled over the years, scotch is a favorite. Next to whiskey, but, whiskey she’s had plenty of the last few days. Scotch will be a nice tamer, something to shake up the night—shake up the thoughts burrowing trenches through the arteries and cavities in her chest.

Sliding him her credit card, it’s plastic bites against the bartop. Watching him log the number, he hands it back. She buries it against the band of her bra, against her sternum. Eyes rolling, the bartender trudges away as if he’s witnessed some great atrocity, down the other end of the bar—takes an order with hushed whispers, leaving her to eyeball her scotch in solidarity. Silence.

Friday and however much this dress would all but stand up and demand attention, she’s alone. But that’s no great sorrow—to be alone and actually let it eat away at the marrow in her bones would mean it is unwelcome, unfamiliar. Solo is all too familiar, rent free on her person–the devil and angel parked on either shoulder, guiding her through moments. It’s been this way her entire life, sparkling personality and sunshine attitude aside. Loudest wallflower to ever exist, perfectly forgettable—she’s great company when she’s seen, otherwise all too invisible. It’s learned behavior, expected of society’s less fortunate.

A quick flick of her foot has the barstool swiveling, her elbow parked on the bar behind her. Eyeballing the room quickly reveals that, wallflower that she is—she’s an overdressed one, at that. And she could, probably, forgive herself. Hadn’t exactly expected Mulligan’s to be an axe-throwing venue, complete with Toby Keith on repeat and flannel-clad lumberjack wannabees and their buckle bunnies—axe bunnies?

A sip of the scotch has her nose scrunching a little, the splash in the back of her throat almost hot, even at room temp. Two lines to her right, a cute blonde does one hell of a job playing dumb as her date comes up behind her, helping her take stance. All but popping her ass back into his pelvis, there is not a stitch of air between them that could be breathed—he’s a little unbalanced. Probably that last Coors, she’s giggly and her face is red as a beet. Probably one too many Mich Ultra’s. Together they crack up into laughter, before she actually makes an attempt to throw an axe, dressed in cutoffs and a flannel shirt a size too large, knotted off at the midriff.

Maybe should’ve Googled that one pre-game, but, as her grandmother had always chided, Better to be overdressed than under, baby. Besides, a little black sundress was acceptable just about anywhere—the heels could be overdoing it, though. Down goes another bite of scotch, and she’s perfectly content to watch blondie and her backwards-ballcap date tiptoe around the goings-on of pre-sex, until movement to her left catches her attention.

Pool tables racked with activity, there couldn’t be one more girlie in tight jeans or shorts leaning over green felt if the men had decided to make room. Each man at the table sports arm candy, some even two, full peacock with open chests and lifted chins. Stetsons, ballcaps, even a few beanies make a fine cocktail of male specimens, all bullshitting around ripped up pool tables and scuffed wooden floors. Beer bottles, pint glasses, liquor mottles here and there, hanging out on tables and pool table edges like trophies. Evidence of presence, of time spent. Side-eying the exchange of money isn’t difficult—they make a show of it, as if this is theatre. Shifts on her barstool as their jibes and shoulder-claps get a little more elevated, a little more colorful.

Too absorbed in watching the flock of men around the pool table, she misses the slight creak of a barstool accepting weight to her right. Jumps a little when the air bristles beside her, signaling a new body—someone else at the bar, too close for comfort. Too close to be ignorant. Especially when there’s nobody at the bar, taking up air. Just her and her simple Monkey Shoulder, just her and the defeat that sinks her shoulders a little as realization hits.

She doesn’t have to check if it’s a man—his presence is overwhelming, almost dizzying. Masculine and purposeful, but not in a way that sends shivers down her spine. A quiet kind of energy, like the air before a storm. Unmoving but oh so deliberate, ripe with power. As if any moment something may collapse in on itself, rip open the air—but chooses, instead, to prowl. Like a tower, overlooking, but not imposing. Temperature, too, has spiked—whoever has just parked beside her ripples with heat like an inferno, it’s nearly tangible against her skin. Thick cologne swirls, a delicious idea beneath her nose that smells like musk, pine. Sweat and smoke–exhaust. Bike, maybe.

Unsure whether the flush lifting from her breastbone to her cheeks is the scotch or the newcomer, she uses her foot to swivel back around, leaning forward to rest her arms over the bar. Thin glass between her fingers rings a little as her nail tick, tick, ticks against it, and staring into the coppery swirl of booze allows her a little bit of a casual side-eye to the man who has parked himself at her now eleven o’clock.

Hair the color of midnight is full and thick, almost tinges a bit of sapphire under the fluorescents that dare to flicker a little above them. Even beneath full mutton chops, she can see the sharp line of a jaw—strong nose, purposeful brow. A striking profile, as he stares at his hands—thick hands, strong. Massive, more paw than actual hands, if she were poetic about it. Calloused, even from here. A troop of ebony hair forests his arms, thick and wiry—does little to hide the absolutely godlike muscle that all but stands up and demands recognition.

Arms no less than small trees, her eyes zero in on his veins, veins that may as well have their own ZIP—if careful, she could watch his blood actually current. Count the flutter of his pulse—intrusive thoughts win. She would give limb, soul to just hook up him to an IV and drink of whatever raw sexuality God had poured into his form.

It’s easy to take in the rest of him—thick chest, well muscled would be an insulting adjective. She wouldn’t believe, for a moment, there was a percentage of fat on his person, not the way his jeans clung to his thighs. Unaware they made belts so small for adults, she’d never seen a narrower waistline. And abdominals—God Himself had only crafted those, broke the mold. Even from beneath whatever sad excuse of a threadbare black v-neck he’d thrown on this morning, they were washboard. She’d bet her life.

Oh my god, of all the men—

And just as quickly as she’d ventured off into whatever pornography such a man conjures up into brainspace, he shifts a little. Situates himself on his barstool—sits back, hand on his thigh, other draped along the bar easily in that only-a-guy way. And her gut all but plummets into hell between her feet—the floor could be stained with her own blood and she wouldn’t have flinched. What’s-his-name commands every molecule between them, could split atoms with his raw sexuality, probably. Every movement is like living color, and she swears to God she can feel her ovaries kicking into overdrive.

Eyes snapping back to her own feet, she rocks her heels back on the barstool’s rung, bottom lip rolling inward to consider just how flushed she felt. Heart hammering the marrow in her bones, she can all but taste the sweat that’s racing down the river of spine, dampening the delicate lace of her panties. Blinking, she manages a steady breath between her lips, trying not to think about the bite of scotch lingering on her breath. Aware that her hands are shaking, she knocks back the rest of the scotch. Cracks the glass back to the bar’s wood all too aggressively.

Somehow the bartender materializes in front of her, like Houdini. Or maybe Satan—she hasn’t decided.

“What’re you having again?”

If it's even possible to forget, she isn't sure, but her eyes connect with his. Thankful for the distraction. Movement to her eleven o’clock signal fires in her brain—her partner at the bar has, without saying anything, entered this conversation. Or, at the very least, made himself aware.

“Monkey Shoulder,” she brushes some curl behind her ear, “neat. Double it, please.”

It’s too fast, too nervous to be genuine. But it is, and of its own volition, her spine straightens a little. As if such a thing is a sin—shoulders fall back, her gaze drops to her hands. Bartender all but plucking the glass from between her hands, he travels back down the bar—retrieves the bottle, which he has somehow managed to forget. She watches him go like a desperate child, all too aware that the man beside her’s eyes have raked down her form, considering. Up and down—her heart flies, almost out of her chest.

A barstool creaks, and it isn’t hers. Oh god.

There’s always that little something that strikes the air—he’s going to say something. Her eyes flutter closed, imaging his lips parting and closing off syllables and consonants, forming words. It’s a delicious little thought that quickly ventures into ratings not suitable for children, and she has to bite the inside pocket of her cheek to anchor her back into the reality of the bar—because she’s, very suddenly, not here. Not as present and accounted for as an unescorted woman drinking should be, God help her.

Scotch appears before her almost fantastically. Reaching for it, the glass suddenly is heavier than the earth between her fingers as she knocks it back, entirely. In one sharp, flaming go. It spins her senses in a tilt, and the world all but flips—managing the glass back to the wood somehow, she anchors herself. Two hands on the edge of the bar, white knuckling for purchase. Eyes pinched so tight she can feel her mascara brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her eyes, she releases a low growl that’s more of a moan than anything.

“Now there’s someth’n you don’t see everyday,” a dark, wolfish chuckle. “Don’t think I’ve seen a lady down two scotch’s back to back without breathin’ before.”

Mother of God, it’s low. And dangerous. She wouldn’t have heard a nuclear explosion if it had detonated directly to her left, the immaculate conception had only ever been so beautiful. And if he’s tagged anything on to his statement she’s missed it, blood galloping through her ears at such a rate it should alert the Kentucky Derby to put her at the starting gate.

A steel beam would’ve been preferable to the heat dropping into her spinal column, his chuckle rattling low in a way that, obviously, is deliberate. And she’s more bolt upright than she has ever recalled in her lifetime, soldiers would patent whatever form this was for their ranks—he shifts on his barstool to face her, and she’s suddenly Icy Hot all over. Simultaneously hot and cold, shivering and flaming—Antarctic air and Vesuvius smoke. Words lap her brain like a pace car, but none form in the back of her Sahara-cracked throat.

Blanking, first she stares at the empty glass between her fingers. Then to the stranger, who’s arm rests along the bar like it was designed for him. Spider to the fly, the little smirk tugging up the corner of his lips gets lost in the dark hairs of his beard and chops, the swirl of shadow that chases light in his eyes like nightmares. All kinds of predator, she doesn’t miss his eyes flicking over her—it’s quick, practiced. You’d miss it if one wasn't looking, but nothing about this man could be ignored. He demanded to be seen, though she suspected by the cool smile and the dark clothes, he would’ve preferred to be anything but noticed. But such beauty demanded attention, otherwise heaven lied.

Realizing the conversation is open, he’s waiting, she tracks his words. Again.

And again, and again.

Swallowing the slight shake to her confidence, her eyes track back to the glass. Hone in on tracing her finger along the rim. And she ignores the souring, burning liquor in the chasm of her gut where the scotch has hit nothing but open air, maybe stones in the base of her that maybe only God could see.

“Oh.” Oh? OH? Coma patients showed more promising signs of life. “Guess you’ve seen it all?”

Oh my god, ohmygod, OHMYGODDD—

She couldn’t have been any more pathetic if she’d melted into the floor at his feet. Channeling the tremble of thinking into her hands, she nudges the glass away. Pulls it back. Plays with it like an amused cat with a toy, trying to decide if it’s friend or foe—if it's worth the distraction. A flick of her eyes back to the stranger and she suddenly realizes this glass is the only tether she has to the present world beyond this conversation—her only confidence. The only thing giving her an edge.

And should it be ripped from her, she’d be nothing but a fish out of water—a fat trout gasping for air.

“Not quite,” whatever he’s drinking, he tosses it back without hesitation. Line of his jaw twitches as the liquor registers, but not in an unwelcome way. “Haven’t seen you before.” Vanishing down the long line of his throat without so much of a flinch, he savors it—his tongue chases whatever lingers in his facial hair. The sight of his tongue, flat and wide, sends her gut twisting into thick knots she can’t even fully describe—his hand moves to smooth over his mouth, as if he’s combing his goatee back into place.

Without thinking, “Well, here I am,” slips past her lips, matching her arms that open at either of her sides, as if putting herself on display. It’s bolder and far more brash than she could ever credit herself with—Monkey Shoulder. It's booze.

He chuckles, pleasantly she thinks. “Here you are—lucky sonuva bitch, aren’ I?”

And without warning, he gets up.

Uncertain what surprises her first, she blinks at him a few times, fluttery lashes drinking in his presence on two feet—he’s short. Like, short short. Not-your-typical-guy-levels of short. Built like a god, maybe closer to a brick house, but he’s at least five inches closer to hell than she is—and she’s five foot eight. Makes up for it in presence, though—if he’d been any taller, people would jump under tables.

Alarmed by the sheer weight of him taking up space, the corner of her mouth lifts a little in a smile. If it’s a confidence killer she wouldn't know, he shifts his shoulders like any man does. Chin leveled with the floor, his eyes catch with the same fierce confidence of any man she’s ever witnessed. Unable to tear her eyes away, the muscle in his forearms twitch alive as he smoothly goes for his jacket, drapes it over an arm.

Christ alive, he is—wow.

God’s perfect design, she thinks—he knuckles his glass a little closer. Glass rakes across the bar in a little song, he swings a thick leg over the barstool directly next to hers. Nothing but air between them, now, he sinks low, and she enjoys watching him do so—how his jeans pull just so along thick thighs. How how chest flexes as he angles to drape his jacket along the bar, how thick fingers card through hair she could covet the rest of her living daylights. Closer, she can feel his heat, his masculinity ebbing like an alive river, trailblazing new paths. Looking for her, reading the moment.

More like a predator than she realized first blush. Biting the corner of her lip, his gaze flicks over her a third time. She matches his effort. Much goes unsaid for a lot of moments, until he introduces himself—Logan. No other name would suit such a man, she thinks—within heartbeats her own name slips between them, between the lines of his popped brow and the question he asks next.

“You drinkin’ alone, darlin’?”

Nudging her empty away, Logan offers her a quicksilver look, hooded eyes and a cocked back expression that’s easy, collective. Nonplussed, like this is easy—like it isn’t rattling every bone in her body, taking inventory of every organ and cell raging like wildfire in her veins. Expectation brims, and she lifts a flirtatious shoulder, looking from his hand that lingers on the bar back to his eyes—and they are dark eyes, eyes that belong to only one kind of man. The type of man her daddy had warned her about, that daddy’s all over God’s creation sat up with shotguns over.

Lovely, focused eyes. Logan knew exactly what he was doing. Few others were such masters.

“Should I be?”

Wrinkles that form along his eyes when he smiles are criminal. They belong, she thinks—he wouldn’t be right without them. “Would be worried if you were,” flashing two fingers at the bartender, his eyes move back to her, taking in the full scope of her features, “‘n my experience, pretty girls need someone t’stave off the wolves.” Chin lifted in the direction of the pool table trips her gaze to follow.

He thinks I’m pretty—and that’s newsworthy, stop the presses.

Nodding slowly, she fights back a smile. “Ah. I see,” angling to tuck a foot behind the other, her elbow props on the bar, chin in the heel of her palm, “and who’s to say you aren’t a wolf, Logan?”

A tease, of course, but the way his gaze snaps back to her so quickly, one would’ve assumed she’d reached out and slapped him. Darkness through his eyes briefly rustles alarm down her spine, and her hand gently moves to retrace the rim of a refreshed glass as silence crescendos between them. Her anchor, again. A tether to reality, to anywhere beyond the depth of the window's to his soul.

Knocking back another sharp drink, he rolls a shoulder. “Not really a wolf,” his nose wrinkles a little as he shakes off the idea, eyes moving back to hold hers, “pack animals. Too much competition,” shrugging a shoulder, he chuckles, “besides—too short t’be a wolf, too close to hell. More like a—well, more like’a wolverine, I s’pose.”

And that makes her giggle, like a child.

“Wait—a wolverine? Aren’t they weasels?” Her head cocks to the side, genuine curiosity wrinkling her nose—he smiles, quicksilver that’s cool, cuts down to parts of her she wouldn’t share elsewhere. Heat rises to her cheeks, deepening the makeup she’d been so deliberate to place earlier in the evening. “How is that better?”

Dissolving into giggles isn’t her style, not usually—but it’s too comedic a mental image to set aside.

“Brought out that smile, didn’t it?”

Oh.

She hums, nodding. Tries to hide the fluster of color sneaking up her breastbone to her cheeks. Fails.

“Charming, aren’t you?”

“It’s the scotch.”

She laughs again, shaking her head. Turns back to the bar, too flushed and girlish to take him seriously—or the weight of his eyes. They bore into her side profile like drills, lapping up the heat on her face. Any second now he’ll come to his senses, she thinks. Conversation would fall flat, too embarrassed to speak and too innocent to flirt—he’d tire of the doe eyes.

They always did.

Thunk thunk thunking axes hit home on targets far behind them, almost a world away.

She tracks, too sharply, like a desperate animal Logan getting up from his barstool—here it comes. Fishes his wallet from his back pocket. Withdraws more than enough money, actually more money than would be necessary for the entire night. Tosses it on the bar like it’s easy, like it means nothing.

Watching him, chin still in hand, he works into his jacket like guys always manage—in a sexier way than necessary. Pops the collar. He may be five inches closer to hell, but he takes up more space than God, sets fire to anything he’d dare to touch.

Tossing back the rest of her scotch, she inhales a deep breath through her nose. Enough to swell her chest, pull her guts in tighter than she thought possible. Disappointment bleeds like a gunshot wound into her chest, mingling with her ribs, and she wills up cold courage. Hands on the bar spin her around on the barstool, lips parted for goodbyes—-

—only to be met with his hand, extended to her.

“Wanna get outta here?”

His brow lifts, investigative. Hers are nearly in her hairline, surprise shellshocked her face like broken plaster. Blinking at his hand, her stomach all but explodes when his finger crooks for her to come, to follow.

It’s a wanton gesture, the way his brow bobs teasingly. Corner of his mouth lifting in a way that’s devilish, almost sinful. Asking where to go is hardly necessary—she’d probably follow him into hell, if so persuaded.

Asks anyway.

“Not sure yet, pretty—but, tell me. How d’ya feel about ridin' double?”

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