#just.... she shouldn't have gotten an advance for this.

[chrysothronos]

tried to read "the girls" by emma cline and it's just dreck. the gender narrative is so stunted, the abuse of similes all the time, it's extremely overwritten and the protagonist is just a husk of nothingness. checking out reviews also shows she did little to no research of the era and even in what i read that was clear.

i also cannot trust anyone writing faux manson murders. they never ever engage with the manson cult being violent racists and the premise of the book just cannot hold. so just. nope. giving it right back to the library.

[kittlyns]

.

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖: ℍ𝕠𝕝𝕚𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, switch!reader, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, age gap (college senior rafe x young professor), icky rafe at the beginning, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, rough sex, teasing, oral male receiving, orgasm denial, light bdsm

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This is a combination of a few similar asks. The premise is that Rafe Cameron is nothing but trouble in class, and when his professor sees that the frat house is auctioning date nights for charity, she can’t help but place her bid.

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Your heels click down the aisle of the large lecture hall, surveying the crowd of students; a packed house, row upon row of upperclassman seated about. Turning on your heels, you look toward the back row, empty per usual, soon to be filled at 5 minutes past the hour was a horde of rowdy frat boys.

The door swings open right on cue, a line of them falling in, their president holding up the back. He smiles at you, giving you a lazy grin as he skims his fingers through his hair.

Rafe didn't just come into class late; he barely paid attention, wrote nothing in his notebook, cracked jokes with his brothers, and took a little naps when the night before had gotten too out of hand.

Then there was the way he looked at you on those specific days—the days when he was feeling rather bold and unashamed. He’d shoot his shot, talking to you like some girl he was hitting on at the bar.

“Can’t focus on shit when you look so pretty, professor y/n.”

“I’m tryin’ to raise my grade, professor y/n. Is participation based on how much I pay attention to you?”

“I get nervous when you say my name, professor y/n. The answer just slipped my mind. I'm sorry. M’paying attention… I swear.”

The smug smile never leaves his face as he speaks. And you’d be a liar if you said his little passes didn't make your heart flutter, but each advance was brushed aside or met with a cold, professional response that only made him more determined.

Students started to filter out, but he stayed back, wanting to “challenge a recent grade.” No one believed him, including his brothers. He pushed them toward the door as they snickered and gossiped about Rafe getting you alone.

Rafe walks toward the front, hands stuffed in his jeans, his t-shirt stretched across his chest and arms, his muscular body straining the fabric. He wipes his hand across his smirk when you look up at him, giving him the attention he was craving you would.

"Great lecture, Professor y/n," he smiles as he shuffles closer.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron. If only you’d listened,” you quip, your eyes scanning over your attendance sheet, making notes for daily participation.

Rafe chuckles at the joke, moving within arm's reach. You look up toward the door, checking to see if you are alone, butterflies filling your stomach when you notice you are.

“Hey, I listen,” he scoffs, playing along with the game you shouldn't have played in the first place. “Sometimes I just get distracted,” Rafe smiles as his eyes fall to the hem of your pencil skirt, working their way back to your eyes far too slowly.

Your heart starts to race under the weight of his gaze. “Getting too distracted is gonna get you in trouble-”

“I hope so,” he smiles, cutting you off, twisting your words in the process.

You roll your eyes as you reach for your coat and book bag. “Mr. Cameron, I’m not just some girl, and I'm your professor-”

“Oh, I know,” he smiles, butting in again as he steps closer. His eyes fall to your tits as your back arches unintentionally while you slip your arm into your jacket.

“I don't know what game you're playing, but I need to get to my next class if you have nothing to ask me.”

"No games, sweetheart.” Your eyes shoot to him. “Sorry. Damn, m’sorry… Professor y/n,” he corrects himself, dragging out your title for emphasis. “No games,” he assures you as you step past him, walking toward the exit. You turn over your shoulder, Rafe’s blue eyes lifting from your ass to your sharpened gaze. “I am good at games, Professor y/n. If you wanna play sometime-”

“Goodbye, Rafe,” you dismiss him with a cold bite. You hear a few laughs from behind the door you're walking toward, making the heat of embarrassment pool in your cheeks.

You push into the hallway, moving quickly to your next class. The university’s bustling with students, the noise occupying what little space you have left, your mind consumed with thoughts of Rafe and what happened.

You turn the corner, weaving past the line in front of the coffee shop, slowing when you see the neon sign tapped against the wall.

HoliDate - Omega Beta Chi Fraternity Charity Auction

Win a Date with the men of ΩBX to support Charleston Children’s Hospital this Holiday Season

You sit in the back row of the theater, watching each of the frat boys strut out onto the stage one by one.

Rafe Cameron. He steps out onto the stage, dressed in a fitted black suit, making you swoon. He runs his fingers through his hair, his classic backward hat gone. He looks devilishly handsome—quickly flashing a cocky smile at the audience, making the catcalling and applause crescendo. You look around, watching phones glow as people rapidly scan their QR codes, prepping to place bids.

“And next, Senior and Omega Beta Chi President Rafe Cameron, everyone. HoliDate bidding starts at $100…”

The crowd blows past the opening bid in seconds. Your heart pounds as the offers climb: $200, $300, $400. You look down at your phone and type your own: $500.

"$600," the auctioneer calls, someone outbidding before you can even react.

$700. You punch in the number and hold your breath, waiting for someone to counter it again. The auctioneer looks down at his iPad, then to the crowd, counting down. "Sold! To our anonymous bidder!”

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the keys as you think of what to do next. You leave your name anonymous, providing your cell phone number instead.

Your phone buzzes in your purse as you walk out to your car. You rummage for it quickly, pulling it out of your bag; looking down at the message from Rafe.

Rafe: Hi, sweetheart

You: Hi!

Rafe: So, what do you want to do tonight? I'm all yours.

Rafe: I’m up for anything.

You: Meet me at eight at 5th and Main. Don't be late ♥️

"Professor y/n?" Rafe calls, a hint of disbelief in his voice as his head turns from left to right, scanning the street as he steps closer.

“Mr. Cameron,” you smile up at him.

“Umm… Are you, uh-”

“Waiting for a cab,” you cut him off. The excitement in his face falls fast. “And you.”

“And me?” Rafe asks. His blue eyes widen on yours as he fights back a sweeping smile. “Well, shit…”

“Is that okay?” You ask.

“You kiddin’ me?” He answers fast as his eyes fall lower, catching a hint of red satin peeking out of your peacoat. “This is perfect,” Rafe softens his tone as he steps closer. “So, where are we goin’?”

“Well, we can take the cab to The Rex,” you offer, mentioning the new restaurant downtown, “or you can come over for dinner and drinks at my house if you’d like.”

He smiles—a blush creeping across his cheek, enough so that he has to look away for a moment to collect himself. “We can go to your place, Miss…” He draws out the word, waiting for you to give him your name. You smile sweetly, stepping a little closer, and you swear you can hear his heartbeat in his chest.

“Y/n.” He echoes your name gently like it's the prettiest thing he’s heard. You look to your left, watching the cab slow-roll to a stop. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, ushering you to the car before helping you inside.

The ride is short—only a few blocks. You make light conversation with him, surprised with how well it's going considering how he is in class—a very different man than when he’s in front of his brothers, charming even. You rest your hand on his thigh as he tells a joke, making his eyes flicker down. He smiles at the contact before looking back up at you.

“You look different,” he whispers.

“Different good or different bad?” You ask with a slight tip of the head and a breathy laugh that has him resting his hand on top of yours.

“Good," he smiles. “So fuckin’ good.”

“Different, though. How so?” You ask curiously, and he wets his lip, looking down at yours.

“You’re smilin’ at me. You don't usually do that…”

The cab rolls to a stop, and Rafe opens the door, helping you out before walking with you to your downtown apartment.

Rafe’s eyes float around the space as you guide him inside. The house’s decorated for the holidays; just a few things here and there. The table is set for two, with a bottle of champagne on ice.

“Holy shit,” he smiles as he rocks back on his heels slightly, coming to the conclusion that you wanted this more, your house set just in case he’d say ‘yes’. Rafe unbuttons his jacket, tugging it off his shoulders, leaving him in a fitted white button-down. He watches you closely, desperate to see what’s under your peacoat after getting a taste before. You untie the belt, taking your jacket off as well.

Rafe stands across from you—air filling his lungs as he tries to hold tight his usual confidence, failing miserably.

His blue eyes fix on you, wide and unblinking, tracing every line of your red dress, studying you, taking it all into memory. Rafe swallows hard, stumbling slightly as he kicks off one dress shoe, then the other.

You turn around, strolling toward the dining room, grabbing the champagne.

You over your shoulder just like you did this afternoon after class; Rafe’s eyes shift higher—the hunger in his eyes unmistakable.

“Champagne?” You ask, your voice smooth and teasing as you catch him in the act.

He opens his mouth to respond, but the words get caught on his tongue. Rafe laughs nervously, raking his hand through his hair, trying to recall your simple question.

“Champagne,” you smile, repeating the word.

“Yeah… Yes. Uhh—please,” he stammers, his voice wavering in a way it hasn’t before. You pour yourself a glass, then Rafe, the two of you, watching as the bubbles sparkle, tumbling over the side. “You look…” Rafe clears his voice, fluttering his lashes as he tries to compose himself.

“Yes?” You ask as you step a little closer, passing him the glass.

“You look stunning, y/n… I mean, you’re always beautiful-” He cut himself off, shaking his head, letting out a breathless laugh. “You’re makin’ me nervous.”

“You have a way of doing that to me, too,” you answer sweetly.

The doorbell rings; the food you ordered arrives just in time. The two of you sit together, discussing life and plans. Liquor flows, loosening the both of you up; Rafe pops a second bottle of bubbly for the two of you.

“Cheers,” he lifts his glass, making you do the same.

“Cheers,” you smile as you click your glass against his, taking a small sip as he moves closer.

“So…”

”So,” you breathe as you look up at him.

“Why me?” He asks as he leans in a little more. Rafe’s warm cologne fills your nose— the heat of his body so close makes your pulse spike.

“Why do you think?” You question, throwing the query back to him. He hesitates and smirks, cheeks flushing again, wanting to say the right thing.

"’Cause you wanted to see me outside of class?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly under the pressure.

“Mhmm… I wanted to see if you were the Rafe Cameron everyone sees in class or if that was just some act you were putting on for everyone.”

His brows pinch together, confusion painted over his pretty face. “M’not that bad,” he mumbles against the rim of his glass as the corners of his lips curl into a slight smile.

“I beg to differ, Mr. Cameron.”

He cocks his eyebrow as you get back to the basics, using his last name instead of his first. “Why else am I here, Professor y/n?” He asks, his voice hoarse and hungry as he moves even closer.

“Well, I think you need to learn a lesson…”

Rafe swallows hard, his face mere inches from you as his rough hand trails up your bare thigh, disappearing slightly under the satin. "What kind of lesson?" He whispers needily as his eyes fall slightly, locking on your lips again.

You take your finger, hook it under his chin, guiding his gaze to yours. “The kind of lesson where you learn respect,” you smile as your hand rests on his upper thigh, moving higher and higher. He takes a little breath, letting out a soft groan. “Boundaries,” you whisper as your fingers trace around his rock-hard cock, strained against the zipper. “And discipline,” you pull your hand away with a smile. Rafe expels the breath he was holding, his eyes softening in desperation.

”Please,” he mumbles as you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth and cheek, leaning into his ear as he wraps his arms around you, needing you closer.

Your teeth scratch against the shell of his ear as your hands roam his broad chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and quick breathing under your palm. “What do you want, Mr. Cameron-”

“You,” he answers hastily. “I want you, Professor y/n.”

“Good boy.”

You step off the couch and walk toward your bedroom, smiling as he follows you close. Rafe steps toward you, chest pressed against your back, tucking himself into your neck as his hands grab your hips. You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your skin. He releases a shaky breath, not wanting to kiss you without permission, hoping to get what he needs and fast.

You can tell by his hold and how he carries himself that he isn’t used to giving over control. But, Rafe Cameron wants nothing but to get back in your good graces…

You wrap your fingers around the red satin bow around your waist, tugging it loose. Letting it slip through your fingers, as you turn around, looking up at him.

His gaze falls to your hands, seeing the ribbon. “You look nervous, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice a soft purr, pulling his focus back to your eyes as you toss it to the bed.

"No, Professor. I—” his words trail away as he hears the pull of your zipper, the satin material falling to a puddle at your feet, leaving you in nothing but red lace.

“You just what?” You ask as you step closer, fingering the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,” he mumbles.

You smile as you pull his shirt off his broad shoulders, working on his pants next. “Flattery won't get you out of trouble, Mr. Cameron."

He shakes his head, eyes rolling back in his head as he watches you lower yourself to your knees, grabbing his dress slack and pulling them off. “I’m not tryin’ to get out of trouble. I swear—I,” he groans as you wrap your fingers around his hard cock through his boxers, making his abs flex. “I just can’t stop looking at you,” he breathes, lips parting as your mouth wraps around his thick tip, wetting the fabric. He cups the back of your head, his eyes shutting heavily. “I'll be good. I'll be whatever you want,” he pleads, his voice raw and hoarse.

You wrap your fingers around the band of his boxers, looking up at him with a smile. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Shit—Yes, I’ll be so fuckin’ good. Alright? I promise. Just keep going.”

His breath hitches as you pull down his boxers. You let out a breathy sigh as you see his cock; long and thick, curved slightly, tip pulsing and wet with precum.

You wrap your fingers around the base of his length, making him bite his bottom lip. He watches your every movement, mesmerized as you lean in, tongue swirling and flicking across his tip, making goosebumps spread across his tanned, toned skin.

“Bed,” you smile. Rafe moves quickly, his breathing heavy as he shifts onto your bed. “Grab the rails.” Rafe lifts his arms above his head, gripping the metal tightly, giving you complete control. He continues to study you, the deliberate sway of your hips driving him mad. Grabbing the ribbon, you crawl on top of him, resting your warm, wet pussy on top of his dick, grinding nice and slow. You lean forward, wrapping the soft satin around his wrists, tying it into a pretty little bow.

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Professor," he huffs through a wide smile.

“I could say the same about you.” You lean down for a kiss, hovering just above his lips. Rafe chases your mouth as you pull away, denying him that.

"Look, I get it. You're trying to teach me somethin’, and I deserve it-”

”But what?" You ask in a taunting tone.

"But you're killin’ me," he blurts, tugging against the ribbon, making his big biceps flex. “I’m not used to this? I'm used to bein’ in control.”

Your lips quirk into a smirk. “Oh, I noticed,” you smile as you trace your finger down his chest, through his abs, cutting along his v-lines before teasing his cock, watching him twitch.

"You think you've got me all figured out. Don’t you?”

“I do…” You smile as your nails scratch down his muscular thighs.

"I've been good...”

“We just started,” you whisper against his tip before wrapping your lips around him. Rafe throws his head back into the pillow, pulling against the restraints as you let him slide into your mouth, taking him to the back of your throat.

“Yes, fuckkk…” He groans. “That’s it, baby.”

Rafe looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, watching his thick dick slide between your slick, swollen lips. You moan around his girth, watching the way his eyes roll back at the feeling of the vibrations.

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock again, licking a few fat stripes up the bottom of his shaft.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groans, fighting to keep his eyes open as you throat his cock again.

His big hands ball into fists as you start jerking his dick as well, sucking on his tip, making him gasp, his muscles coiling tight.

“Shit. Shit. Shittt,” he grumbles. “I’m gonna cum. Fuck. I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth. Hey—” He huffs as you pull off his cock with a wet pop, looking down at him with a wicked smile. “What the fuck?” He pants, his face twisted in frustration.

“What?” You ask dumbly.

His cock pulses—incredibly hard, red and swollen; Rafe, just seconds away from cumming down your throat. "You want to teach me a lesson? Fuckin’ fine. But let's stop pretendin’ this is just about that. Aight? You need me,” he grunts. “$700 for a lesson, bullshit. You want me to take care of you. Let me fuckin’ go.”

“Or what?”

"What are you teachin’ me a lesson for anyways? It’s not my fuckin’ fault. Alright? It’s yours… It’s the only way I can get your attention. You’ve been drivin’ me crazy all fuckin’ semester," he huffs, his voice low and rough. "Every time I piss you off, I get your attention; every time I come in late, your eyes are on me. And when I don’t pay attention, you call me out by name—I can't stop thinkin’ about you. Ain’t that what you want, Professor y/n. Fuckin’ sue me for wanting your attention.”

“There are other ways to get my attention, Rafe,” you whisper through a soft smile.

“Well, it got me here, didn’t it,” he counters. “I think it's my time to take charge." Rafe looks up, seeing the end of the red bow, quickly catching it between his teeth, tugging at it fast, making your heart race as he yanks himself the rest of the way out. He rolls you to your back, lips crashing against yours for the first time in a deep, passionate kiss.

Rafe crushes you under his big body, taking complete control. Your hands reach around him, gripping his big shoulders. He deepens the kiss, fingers digging into your skin.

He pulls back slightly, licking his lips in anticipation, rubbing his cockfat head around your aching hole before pushing inside. You moan in pleasure— the both of you watching as your wet pussy pulls him in.

You throw your head back on the pillow, body reeling, pleasure coursing through your veins at how deliciously he fills you up. You grab his big biceps as he picks up the pace, nails driving into his skin.

“So fuckin’ tight…” He groans. “God, you’re wet.”

Rafe cups the back of your head, steering you to look at the space between the two of you, watching his thick cock pound into you fast—your arousal slicked and glistened between rough thrusts.

Your lips brush against his as you claw at his back, pulling him closer, making him fuck you even deeper than before as your body tightens around him.

“You gonna cum, baby?” He asks, raspy and thick.

“Yes. Fuck,” you whimper.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuckin stop, Professor y/n. Good news for you, I wanna fill up this pretty pussy.”

“Don’t stop. Please,” you cry.

He picks up the rhythm, thrusting into you faster and harder.

"Then you better come for me. Yeah? Show me what a good girl you can be,” he growls in your ear, taking back the power he lost. “Think we both know who’s really in charge here.”

His name leaves your lips in a broken sob as you cum around his cock; toes curling, back arching, tits pressing into his muscular chest. Rafe’s hips stutter, filling you to the brim as he continues to pound into your warm, wet cunt.

He nuzzles into you, kissing along your neck as you come down from your high together.

Rafe draws a deep breath as he pulls back, claiming your lips in a tender kiss. "Did you learn anything?" You giggle between breathless kisses, making him smile against your lip.

"No… Didn’t learn shit," he mutters. “Good thing we’re just gettin’ started.

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 2.

Prev Next

*Author's note: OMG. Thank you guys so much for all the engagement on the first part. I didn’t think my first post would get that much reaction. Also yes I am spree writing this is! If you notice a mistake let me know. PS, the school named in this chapter is fictional and does not exist in the real world.

Alfred listened to the ringing phone line waiting for Bruce to answer. Seeing Miss (Name) in the hallway had been a surprise. He was fairly certain she was supposed to be away at Miss Rose's Boarding School for Young Woman in STEM. After two years of studying in the UK it was strange to have her appear without any notice. Especially since she hadn't visited or sent word in the past.

"Hello Alfred." The line stopped ringing and Alfred was greeted by Bruce.

"Master Bruce. Have you gotten any word from (Name)'s School about a sudden break in the school year?"

"No, why?" Alfred narrowed his eyes at the phone. Well that didn't make sense. Surely her school would notify them if she left.

Alfred began going through his memories. When was the last time Miss Rose's had called the manor? He couldn't seem to recall, they did have the manor's house number on file. "Well she just arrived at the manor and get into a bit of a scuffle with Master Damian. He thought she was an intruder and because I didn't know about her return I couldn't inform him about her in advance. Thankfully she seems unharmed but that was not a good foot to start their sibling relationship on."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "That’s odd, we should have received some kind of notice. Alfred can you call Miss Rose's to see what's going on. I'll wrap up business here quickly and be on the next flight home."

"I will see to it sir." The phone call ended. As Alfred began looking for the correct number to call next, Dick came into the room.

"Hey Alfred, why didn't you tell me baby bird was coming back?" Dick gestured behind him towards the kitchen.

Alfred shook his head slightly, typing in the school's name on Google. "I was not aware she was returning today."

Dick blinked twice, "Wait, what? Her school is in Australia, how did she get on an international flight with no one being aware of it?"

"Her school isn't in Australia." Alfred's eyebrows scrunched together. Dick's mouth made an 'o' shape before clamping into a thin line. Alfred narrowed his eyes at the look before correcting Dick, "Her school is in Birmingham, UK."

"Right, right. Umm, still though how did she get back here without anyone being notified. Even than it's the middle of October, shouldn't classes still be in session." Dick placed his hand to his chin. His eyes took on the focus look he got when he was working on a case or solving a puzzle. Alfred finally got the number written down. Dick looked up at Alfred. There was this dawning look on his face, "Hey Alfred."

"Yes Master Dick."

"Something is really wrong here, we need to keep an eye on her."

Alfred nodded listening to another phone line ringing in his ear, "I agree."

You had to come up with a plan. Escaping the facilities hadn't happened because of rash promises of passion. No it took a year of observation, planning, and waiting. It took you learning every detail that had been place in front of you. Yes you had emotions and gave yourself little dramatic moments but you can't live there.

You grabbed an abandoned notebook on your desk. It was covered in stickers with the first three pages being scribbled on. You ripped them out before beginning to write out everything you knew about the facilities. One they had access to all kinds of medical equipment but it was older equipment that struggled to work sometimes. Two the gaurds were heavily arm with scratched up weapons. The scratching was probably where the serial numbers would've been. Third they had issues getting supplies from a Sionis. Fourth it was based in Gotham evidenced by you being able to find the manor days after escape.

On the next page you wrote out your family member's names. You also add in the new people, Duke Thomas and Damian Wayne. You had written down Talia but stopped to think for a minute.

Yes, your father had likely cheated on your mom with her. But did that make her guilty of destroying your mom's romance? Did she even know about your mother? Maybe your mom was the reason she left causing that line in your mother's diary. Even than you need to focus on the experiments. You could worry about your mother's betrayal later. You scratched Talia off the list.

When you flipped to the next page, there was a soft knock on your door. It creaked open revealing Duke. He offered you a soft smile as he poked his head into your room. "Hey, are you doing okay?"

You looked him up and down. Duke was new to manor and you still couldn't tell if he was visiting or lived here now. A small part of you questioned if he knew about your kidnapping. Did any of your siblings actually know what happeneded or had Bruce just told them the boarding school lie? Did he plan to do it to them too once you proved a success?

You turned back to your notebook scribbling the questions. You'd need to look into during your investigation, "I'm fine."

"I heard about Damian attacking you in the hallway." Duke inched into your room. You turned back a page and underlined Damian's name. Even if he had nothing to do with your suspicions about your father, you were not going let him act like him towards you. Duke chuckled nervously behind you, prompt you to close the book. Can't have them finding out... yet. "Is there someway I can maybe cheer you up? I mean you're clearly upset about something and I want to help if I possibly can?"

He continued to ramble on. You looked around your room as he talked. Eyes landing on your closet you had a slight realization. In your time at the experiments, you had grown. They may have torture you but they hadn't starved you. After all they need you healthy to ensure 'proper' results. The only clothes you had that fit you were probably the ones you were wearing. "Actually there is something."

"Oh! Yeah, what do you need?" Duke smiled brightly. It was as if his teeth were glowing with inner light. If your siblings and by proxy Duke had been told a lie, playing along with it would be smart. After all planning and observing meant staying unnoticed. You offer an unsure smile hoping it would play into what you were saying, "It's a long story but I left the boarding school in a hurry so I completely forgot to pack clothes."

"Okay." Duke made a weird face. Crap, that's not good.

"Yeah and I had a grow spurt so, most of my clothes here don't fit me anymore." You rubbed the back of your neck. Duke's face shifted into realization at your words. Crisis averted for now. You plowed ahead to keep him from asking about the school, making up a lie was not a good idea right now when you knew nothing about theirs. "I need to go clothes shopping. Can you take me to the mall?"

"Of course. What time did you want to go?" Duke made an awkward finger gun gesture towards. He looked tense. Not the tense you saw from the gaurds when you started pressing the line. It was more like the intern in the experiments who never looked at you directly.

You grabbed your notebook and stood. There's was a small backpack by your desk. You slid the book in before sling the bag over your shoulder, "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, let me just stop by my room to grab my keys and wallet." Duke held the door open for you. The walk to his room was quiet and slightly tense.

When he stopped at a door on the second floor you couldn't stop yourself from blurting, "So, you live here?"

"Oh yeah." He walked into the- his room. There were a few posters and some knick knacks on the few bookcases. More importantly there were moving boxes in the corner. Some of them were disassembled but a few were still intact with clothes scattered around them. In fact most of the room was covered in stary papers, clothes, etc. Duke grimaced, "Haha, I just moved in two months ago. Let's agree to not tell Alfred about the mess."

"He probably already knows and is silently judging you." A nervous laugh bubbled out of your stomach. The information swirled inside of you uneasily. Two months was awhile but not long in the grand scheme of things. Plus if Alfred didn't mention you than Duke probably didn't know anything. That would make him innocent in your kidnapping.

"Ahh here they are!" Duke's voice broke you out of the mixed up thoughts in your head. He was holding a silver chain with a dark brown wallet and several keys hanging from it. In his search he had basically ripped apart his laundry basket. He kicked the mess back towards the now mostly empty basket, "You ready?"

"Yeah. Can we get something to eat well we're out?" You felt ridiculous asking. It was another stark reminder of how normal everything but you felt.

Yet Duke didn't hesitate to smile at you and offer his hand, "Heck yeah. There's this awesome pizza place in the mall the serves the biggest slices I've ever seen."

"I don't remember the last time I had pizza."

"No way! Let's go, we need to get you a slice ASAP. This is a pizza emergency." Maybe you could make a new normal with him. Once you destroyed the experiments. Duke Thomas was officially off your list for now.

Something had shifted in Duke. He remembered asking his parents for a little sibling when he was four maybe five. They had kissed him on the forehead and told him that they didn't need another kid when they had a perfect one in front them. It had made him feel happy for a little bit but he always held that small hope.

He thought he would get that with Damian. To a degree he did but it didn’t feel right. Damian was too competitive and strong willed. Duke didn't feel like a big brother, he felt like a contestant at worst, a good friend at best.

Taking (Name) to the mall today had made him feel like a big brother. Seeing her slowly relax around him and get excited over tiny things. Like the cute dress at Justice, the pizza slice that was as big as her head, and the look on her face when she saw Barnes & Noble. He probably spent his whole allowance for the week but he didn't care. He had made his little sister happy.

They had one last stop to make before going home, Claire's. Duke insisted that she look around well he grabbed something. He went straight to friendship necklaces. There were quite a few to choose from. Crystals, Cats, The Wicked Musical. Than he saw it. Two pastel tie-dye koalas hugging each, it was perfect. Duke immediately grabbed it before going to find her.

That's when he noticed something was wrong. She was staring at something and shaking violently. The look in her eyes told him that she had gone off somewhere else mentally. He looked towards what she was looking at to see the piercing station.

There was an attendant cleaning off a newly open needle. The smell of alcohol wipes and disinfectant clear in air. He placed himself in between her and sight. "What’s wrong, kiddo?"

"I wanna go home." (Name) didn't speak above a tight whisper. Something in Duke began howling. This was wrong, she shouldn't be scared. He was there to protect her.

"Okay, but first I need you to tell me something. Where are you?" Duke tried to remember what they do for Jason when he gets like this. Fuck why was it so hard to remember grounding right now.

"I don't like needles." Her eyes flicked to his. They were wide and blaring with barely contained rage.

"That’s okay, but I need you to tell me where we are." Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tighten. He continued on, "I need to know you're here with me. Mentally."

"The Mall."

"We can go." Duke grabbed her hand gently. They paid and left. Once they were in the car, she relaxed again. Duke palmed the necklace in his hand. He had taken it out of the package. His own necklace was already around his neck.

She was staring out the window. The look in her eyes made Duke pause. She was watching the setting sun like it was first time she was seeing it. Mute awe painted her face like a classical painting. Duke pulled the little koala out of his pocket, "Hey, I got you something."

"Is it half the back seat?" She looked behind her to the bags. Barnes & Noble, The Childern's Place, Justice, and Build-a-Bear. Four places that equated to Five separate bags. Duke snorted before bursting out laughing.

"No. Jeez no, it's this." He held out the little koala necklace to her. Her eyes looked towards his own chest, where the other koala already hung. A friendship necklace. She took it into her hands gently. That classical painting look returning, mixes of sentimental joy and some unnamed human emotion that was baffling.

"Thank you, Duke."

"It's no problem." Duke wrapped his arm around her in an weird side hug over the center console. He had always wanted a little sibling and now that he had one he was never to going let her go.

"We might want to get back to manor before curfew." (Name) pointed to the digital display announcing 6:15pm. Duke cursed, shoving his keys into the ignition. She began to laugh hysterical. The manor was two hours away and 'curfew' aka patrol debrief was at 7pm. Duke flew out of the parking lot with manically laughing ten-year-old.

Prev Next

Tag list:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills

[ciciyup]

Pack Wolf X Fem! Reader who doesn't reciprocate his feelings headcanons.

Summary: In their wanderings, they find their imprint as soon as they see her for the first time; However, she doesn't seem to feel the same way.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Sam Uley:

Seeing you for the first time, he would have almost involuntarily gotten down on his knees if it hadn't been that they were in a public place and you were accompanied. It was something unique, something he didn't expect, but there you were, and Sam felt the need to get close to you no matter what. Him approaching you to talk about whatever as an excuse to get to know you wasn't rough enough; he needed to see you again.

As soon as he brought up any kind of topic he noticed how incredibly kind you were when you addressed him, but he also noticed how you didn't even seem to be feel the same. There was no spark in your eyes, no accelerated breathing, no special something that seemed to unite you. You were supposed to be soulmates, weren't you? You were supposed to be perfect for each other, so why as time went on did you seem to treat him like any other normal person? Why wasn't there "that" something in your eyes when you looked at him? Sam had imprinted himself on you, he knew it, everyone knew it, but they also seemed to notice his constant attempts to be closer to you, his constant silent pain.

You treated him well of course, you were friendly to everyone on the reservation, you were sweet to Sam more than he could ask for, but he still didn’t seem to be strong enough with his advances for you to see him the way he was expected. Even after explaining his secret and about the imprint, you seemed to try to feel a connection with him; you spent time by his side, you did everything you could, but the feeling just didn’t seem to be there. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t feel the connection and as time went on you began to wear yourself out and try to find something that just wasn’t there. Finally explaining to him that you couldn’t go on and giving him a clear rejection.

Even though your rejection seemed to hurt him much more than expected, he decided to suffer in silence, prioritizing your feelings over his. Sam would become understanding and calm, not losing his temper, even though he knew how painful it would be, knowing that imprinting shouldn't be forced. Though promising that if only you wanted him, he would be there for you, a good friend or brother, even a companion. Imprinting would involve prioritizing your well-being above all else, so Sam would do everything he could to make sure you were happy and safe, even if that meant keeping his distance so as not to make you uncomfortable.

Though Sam would try to be understanding, the pain he felt was indescribable. Even though you hadn't cut him out of your life completely, just being so far away from you would be hard to handle, starting to feel internal conflict due to the intensity of the imprint itself, having moments where it's hard for him to deal with the lack of reciprocity, seeking support in his pack or those closest to him to handle his emotions.

If you allowed them to stay close, even without a romantic bond, Sam would try to be a reliable friend, being there for you when you needed it, a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell your problems to; whatever you wanted, he would do it. Acting quite mature and empathetic, focusing on what's best for you, even if it meant giving up his own feelings.

Paul Lahote:

Being someone with an explosive temper, Paul probably wouldn't handle rejection well. Trying to get close to you intensely as soon as he meets you, mistaking your lack of reciprocation for shyness or fear towards him, as if you weren't looking at him confused enough since you barely know him and he already seemed to know you all your life. Even though you treated him friendly, he could immediately tell that there didn't seem to be that emotion in your chest upon meeting him, leading to frustration with the pack, following him on the way home, trying to reassure him and explain to him that it would take some time and you would finally agree. It didn't.

Despite his frustration, the instinct to protect you would be greater, as seeing you every few days wouldn't be enough to calm him down, frequently showing up to make sure you were okay, even without you asking, which could seem invasive.

Over time, Paul would have several changes in attitude; The great irritability would be clear to everyone in the pack, and the growing, unstoppable pain would lead him to have fits of rage at anyone who crossed his path, though he would avoid taking it out on you, deciding to walk away, which only made it worse by being away from you. He would feel hurt and disoriented, not being able to understand how it was possible that you didn’t feel the same; you were made for each other, he had imprinted on you. Why was nothing happening? Why was it different with you when you were supposed to be the perfect match for each other?

You tried, you seemed to try many times, more than you could imagine, wishing you could feel the same so that both of your suffering would end, but it wasn’t like that; you couldn’t manage to feel anything and you couldn’t force yourself any further.

Although Paul was unconditionally devoted to you because of the imprint, he would also begin to realize that forcing your feelings was not only unfair to you, but painful to both of you. Trying to stay away and trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Even though Paul was stubborn, he wasn't completely insensitive. His loyalty to the pack and its values would drive him to show respect for your feelings and be a silent support for you. Understanding that imprinting didn't mean control or obligation for you, he would start to act more understanding and respectful, prioritizing what you wanted. Still, he couldn't help but care about you, protecting you whether silently or not from any danger, be it supernatural or human, trying to do so discreetly so as not to make you uncomfortable.

With time and the help of Sam or the other pack members, Paul could accept that their bond cannot be forced. Choosing to be close to you as a friend or support in your life if you so desired, and if so, he would remain as someone protective and loyal, focusing on your well-being and happiness. Although rejection would not be easy for Paul, as he would feel a void in not being able to live the fullness he expected from imprinting, he would learn to accept it with resignation and maturity and less impulsiveness. Even without reciprocation, Paul would continue to feel a connection and be willing to do or be whatever you wanted without expecting anything in return.

Embry Call:

He had always heard about the stories of imprinting and its importance; most of his companions in the pack already had their imprints, although he understood it, he never really understood it, until he met you. It was a very strong pass on the ball, making his companions ask him to go get it, being the closest, and at the edge of the water there was you, who quickly grabbed the ball that was hitting your feet to give it to its owner.

The first contact was different, very different from what Embry had imagined; everything seemed to stop after seeing you, the waves of the sea and the noise of his companions playing seemed far away and took a backseat; everything was reduced only to you. Approaching somewhat nervously, not knowing how to act, he managed to have a brief chat with you, internally hoping that you would agree to see him again. Yes, of course he had noticed your great lack of emotion or bright eyes; It wasn't how his companions had told him in their own experiences, but Embry wanted to believe that maybe it was different with you, maybe it would take a little longer.

Although he approached it with patience and understanding, he would still be confused after not noticing any change in his advances towards you without achieving anything, trusting more than he should, with a silent hope that, with time, you could come to feel something for him. However, he would never act selfishly to force this possibility.

Embry would begin to experience an internal struggle during the following days. Sure, he felt a deep and unbreakable connection towards you, but, on the other hand, the lack of reciprocity on your part would cause him emotional pain. Although he would not be upset with anyone, much less with you, the feeling would squeeze his chest tightly. At those times he would try to seek help from the pack, trying to understand and deal with his pain, some of them even trying to advise him or encourage him to focus on your needs instead of his feelings so he wouldn't suffer so much.

In the face of your rejection, Embry would react immediately; the pain was inevitable, but the imprinting would lead him to accept this reality, putting his personal feelings on the back burner. Even if you didn't feel anything towards him, Embry would dedicate his life to protecting and supporting you, your well-being being his priority. Behaving gently, making sure not to cross boundaries that would make you feel uncomfortable. Being close to you when you needed him, acting as a calm and reliable guardian. He would try to establish a friendly relationship with you if you wanted it. Trying to understand your interests, your passions and the things that made you happy, adapting to your needs. Probably looking to spend time with you casually, so that the pain of separation in the bond that united you didn't hurt him too much, but at the same time he would try not to suffocate or overwhelm you. Trying to maintain a fun and relaxed attitude to make you feel comfortable and maintain a good atmosphere.

If you were to express at any point that you needed space or didn't want a close relationship, he would accept it, even though it would inevitably hurt him. Embry would completely respect your wishes and feelings, as well as your boundaries. Imprinting would guide him to be patient and understanding, willing to wait or just accept whatever you decided. Even if you didn't feel the same way, it would be hard for Embry to stay completely away because of the bond. Trying to be close in indirect ways, helping you without you realizing it, or making sure you were safe.

Although Embry would accept anything you asked him to be or do, he would act with great devotion, dealing with his own pain with dignity, striving to be positive in your life. The situation would be somewhat complicated and painful, but his character would allow him to find ways to cope with it without ceasing to be faithful to the bond that has been created, putting your happiness and well-being above all, only wishing the best for you, even if that meant seeing you with another person.

Quil Ateara:

At first, he might not fully understand why he was attracted to someone in particular, as it wouldn’t be something that happened consciously, but rather something instinctive. Seeing you for the first time only makes him feel confused and disoriented; he knows that he is something strong, something unique, needing to be closer to you.

His protective and caring nature would come to the fore, making him inclined to do everything he could to get closer to you and interact in some way. His pack mates would explain this to him as the poor boy seemed to still be just as confused, though unable to answer their questions as to why you didn’t seem as interested or why you didn’t seem to view him with the same affection and devotion as he had when they had first met; perhaps Sam would step in explaining that it would all be a matter of time.

While Quil would be understanding because of their bond, he would quickly become aware that you didn’t feel the same way. He could tell just by looking at you; When he arrived, There wasn't that emotion when I saw it, even if it had only been a few hours since you'd seen each other, noticing your gestures and your efforts to try to find something that didn't seem to be there, that tiredness of continuing to try something you couldn't force and that sudden distance.

This initial rejection could make him feel hurt, even if your actions weren't intentional. The pack members would be a constant support for him, but he would experience the pain internally. The impression is a powerful thing; this would make Quil put aside his regrets and feelings in order to understand you, beginning to respect your wishes and not force a relationship; however, his emotions would still be intense. He would become more attentive and protective, trying to help you in any way he could, trying to gain your trust without rushing things. He would show himself as a close friend or even a brother, doing things you liked, showing a more relaxed part of himself so you wouldn't feel pressured or uncomfortable. His desire to take care of you might be something that expresses itself in less obvious ways, such as making sure you're okay in everyday situations or trying to make you feel special.

If you were to continue to reject any attempts at closeness, whether romantic or emotional, Quil could go through severe pain due to imprinting. His nature would push him to fight for you in whatever ways necessary to even have some sort of relationship with you, even if it was minimal, but his respect for your own boundaries would keep him in check. Acceptance would be difficult, but over time, Quil could learn to live with the deep connection he feels towards you, without trying to pressure you. Making it clear to you that he would be there for you if you wanted it, like a brother or a friend, taking your health and happiness as a priority, and if you were to continue not wanting any interaction with him then Quil would accept it, prudently staying away, even trying to take care of you silently, since the bond would not let him go away completely.

Although he would approach the subject with enough maturity and patience, the pain would still be there and would not go away completely, affected by the events and why it had not worked out as expected with him regarding the imprint. He would leave room for you to make your own decisions without interfering and accepting what you wanted, but even deep down wishing that one day you could feel the same as he felt for you.

Jared Cameron:

He's confused. The imprint was supposed to be an unbreakable and deep bond, something that makes you feel like the person you're imprinted with is the only one who can fulfill your deepest needs, just as the other person should feel, in a way, the same, practically incomplete if the other wasn't there. What had gone wrong? You make him feel a great desire to protect and care for you, but in the face of this the reality check comes faster than he could prevent, realizing that you don't actually share the same feeling.

His astonishment was inexplicable, since it was incredible how in one moment he was playing with his companions and in the next seconds he saw you and everything seemed to stop. The experience was transformative and overwhelming, but it also came with the weight of understanding that you didn't feel the same. Jared can realize it, perhaps not quickly enough to notice it the first time he sees you, trying to deal with his own feelings in between, but as the days go by and as he gets closer to you, he could tell. He understood it immediately; He couldn't force you to love him on the same level. It seemed to hit him like a bucket of cold water, trying to process it as maturely as he could, but with it came frustration due to the unbreakable connection he felt and the lack of reciprocation from you; it was a constant, throbbing pain that he never imagined feeling.

The imprint bond would make him understand in part that he couldn't rush or force your feelings, just as his own personal integrity would make him understand and cope with it. He would make him respectful of your space, being kind and calm. Adopting a supportive stance, hoping that, in time, you would come to understand and accept the connection between you with or without a relationship in between.

Jared would feel a strong need to protect you due to the imprint. Driving him to be close, more than you would want. Despite his desires to be close to you, Jared would be aware of his limits, avoiding being evasive, but intervening discreetly if you were in danger. Even though the imprint makes him feel like you are his “everything,” he would understand the need to not be dominant or possessive, given that you don’t share the same feelings. Even though your rejection was already expected by him, when it comes, it seems harder to digest than he had imagined. Knowing that this was what you wanted, Jared would respect it by putting aside his thoughts and feelings to please you, trying to balance his desire to be close to you with the need to give you space and time to process what was happening.

Over time Jared would learn not to idealize this in a destructive way, even though the bond makes him think that you are the person he is meant to be with, he also understands that nothing can be forced. And even if you weren’t ready to feel the same or directly didn’t want anything with him, Jared wouldn’t pressure you, but he wouldn’t stop being there, waiting patiently.

Seth Clearwater:

When he first saw you, the world seemed to stop. The connection was instant and overwhelming; the imprint completely transformed him. Of course, he had heard of his pack mates and often saw them with their mates, but this seemed to be something much more intense than Seth could have imagined. You become the center of his universe, not just as a potential mate, but as someone to protect and care for no matter the consequences. The intensity of the feeling overwhelms him, but also fills him with hope and happiness.

Being sweet and genuine, Seth would not force his presence in your life, but would instead seek to approach you in a natural way. Starting with a few casual one-liners about the day, following it up with a few topics that led him to ask for your name, as well as his presence and humor, would have him confidently asking you to see him again. The following days he would show his kinder and more generous side: helping you with small things, making you laugh and spending time by your side as someone unconditional.

Over time, Seth would notice that, although you appreciated him and enjoyed his company, you showed no signs of feeling something deeper. Perhaps he would have noticed it much earlier, but he wanted to lie to himself believing that it was just a matter of time. Although his advances continued to be noticeable, you seemed to no longer enjoy the more intimate approach, which led you to confess that your feelings were not the same as those he had for you. This would be devastating for Seth, since the imprint was not something he could control or diminish. Despite this, Seth would not allow himself to blame or pressure you, understanding that everything should be free and mutual.

He would begin to go through an internal process of sadness and acceptance; his innate kindness would keep him focused on what was best for you. Although it would be painful for him to observe how you did not feel the same, he would commit to staying in your life in the way you wanted. In private he would lean on the pack, who comforted him and gave him advice, especially Leah, who would understand his pain due to her own experiences, helping him deal with the emotional burden.

Seth would continue to be a part of your life if you wanted him to be, and if not, then he would accept it with great internal pain, but accepting of your wishes, watching over you from the shadows. He would never impose his feelings on you or expect you to reciprocate, seeking the best for you. And if you wanted to cut contact completely, then Seth would accept it without complaint no matter how much pain it caused him, putting your feelings before anything else.

Despite the pain, Seth would maintain his hopeful nature by looking for ways to adapt, learning to handle his unrequited feelings and channeling them into something positive. He would dedicate himself to protecting you from a distance or focusing on strengthening relationships with his family and pack. Over time he could learn to balance his imprint with his own need to move on, although the connection would never completely disappear.

Jacob Black:

He had always found the subject of imprinting strange and even aberrant; seeing how his companions seemed to abandon themselves so that someone else could practically take them as if they were their own to do with as they pleased was simply something Jacob didn't seem to or wanted to understand. Everything changed when he saw you; he now understood what everyone was talking about. He feels the powerful pull of imprinting, an unbreakable bond that reconfigures his world around you. His senses sharpen, his heart beats hard, and the need to be close to you becomes overwhelming. In that instant you become his absolute priority, overriding any other connection or concern.

Jacob would look for ways to approach you naturally, using his charisma and sense of humor as tools to gain your trust. He would try to become a close and constant friend in your life, willing to listen to you, support you, and protect you from any danger, even if you weren't aware of the extent of his commitment.

Over time, Jacob would probably manage to become an important figure in your life. He would accompany you in your everyday problems, offering you solutions or simply his presence. His actions, driven by imprinting, would be selfless and focused on your well-being. However, as the relationship progresses, he begins to notice that although you appreciate him and feel comfortable, you show no signs of developing feelings towards him. Although you try hard to give and surrender to him, you know that you cannot match his commitment; despite your constant attempts, you just don’t succeed.

Once you confess to Jacob and give him the clear rejection, he would experience an emotional storm. His pain would not come from the rejection itself, but from the inability to fulfill what he perceives as his purpose: to make you happy. It would make him rethink and ask himself if he is doing something wrong or if he is meant to live with those one-sided feelings. Even though he wants you to see him the same way, he wouldn’t try to pressure or manipulate you due to imprinting forcing him to prioritize your desires and well-being over his own. Even though you didn’t feel the same way, Jacob wouldn’t be able to emotionally detach himself. He would continue to care for you, making sure you were safe. He would try to find comfort in friendship, focusing on being a support in your life without expecting anything in return.

If you wished instead to have no relationship with him at all, wanting to cut off contact, even though he would feel deeply hurt, Jacob would respect your decision. Having to fight his own instincts to not constantly seek you out, even going so far as to feel great constant pain and guilt, would lead him to isolate himself from the pack and his friends, constantly morphing to release pent-up tension and emotions, feeling unable to explain his suffering or find comfort.

Even though others in the pack couldn’t fully understand the pain of an unrequited imprint, they would offer comfort and support; Even Sam would try to guide him to handle his feelings so that the bond wouldn't be so painful.

Jacob would learn to deal with frustration and pain, taking comfort in secretly caring for you if you didn't want him around, and if that wasn't it, then he would settle for being a good friend in your life. Despite the lack of reciprocity, the bond wouldn't fade. The imprint is eternal, and although the pain might soften with time, he would always feel a special connection to you.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

[dedalvs]

When will humankind learn the lesson of its hubris and begin to heal itself? Also can you recommend any undergraduate or graduate level resources (textbooks etc.) for learning about fiction? I already read Writing Fiction by Burroway. Thanks in advance

January 14, 3182. Make a note of the date and return to this post when it comes.

To your second question, I've never read anything on writing fiction, only writing in general. I've found something valuable in every book on writing, even if there were things in the book I found less valuable. For example, I read Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within by Natalie Goldberg, and while there was much of it I didn't care for, there are some passags that have stuck with me 22 years later. When it comes to writing guides, I think the best thing to do is read what interests you while understand that what you are really doing is building your own writing guide inside you. You're absorbing what you find personally meaningful and using it to create your own personal styleguide that, like it or not, you'll be following for the rest of your life. Rather than rejecting that, and trying to decide which text will be the text that tells you how to write, embrace it, realize that you are going to do what you're going to do, and then try to work within that framework. That is, if that's what's happening, how will you approach a styleguide? What will it mean to you to read a very didactic text (i.e. "All serious writers must do x; no serious writer every does y") vs. a loosey-goosey one (e.g. "Dance naked in the garden of your creativity and allow your flowers to bloom!")? What are you looking for in these texts and what will you do with information or strategies that you find valuable?

Returning to Writing Down the Bones, I have to say I found the book to be mostly woo. It was more a kind of self-help/empowerment book than a book on writing, in my opinion. But there is something in there that I'm sure I'd heard before but which finally resonated with me. Specifically, it was the way she articulated that it really, truly doesn't matter what you put on the page when you're drafting. Drafting is not the time to reject. Even some idea comes to you that you find absurd, illogical, thematically inappropriate—whatever. It's not the time to push it away. Indeed, it's wasted effort. Editing and revising is the time to question. If you're writing, you shouldn't let anything stop you—even your own brain.

Why it took till then for this idea to take root, I don't know. It could be how she worded it. It could be that it came at the right time. Perhaps I was more open to new ideas when I was reading this book. It may also have something to do with a transition that had taken place for me in writing. After all, when I started high school, I was not regularly using a computer (we'd only just gotten a computer that stayed at home). When I started writing, I wrote by hand—on paper. It's a much, much different thing to edit and revise when you're writing on paper than it is on when you're working on a computer! I mean, digital real estate is cheap. When you're writing by hand, it can literally hurt to write seven or eight pages—and then to discard them in editing! Right now I'm working on a novel draft where I've decided an entire section needs to come out. If I'd written that by hand?! I can't even imagine.

I guess the tl;dr of it is I don't have a specific text to recommend. Rather, I encourage you to look around and grab anything that interests you. In doing so, though, I encourage you to approach it differently, focusing on what in it you find valuable, without either wholly rejecting it or feeling you have to follow it to the letter like an Ikea manual. I even found something valuable in C. S. Lewis's The Abolition of Man, which I honestly can't believe I read.

If you'd like some fiction advice that may be generally useful no matter what you're writing, this is what I can offer:

A valuable skill to hone is being able to read your work as if you have no other knowledge of it. In other words, you need to be able to read your work like a reader. One of the most difficult things to do with fiction is to cut. You usually have a lot more characterization, a lot more plot points, a lot more detail, etc. than end up on the page. The important question is if you cut something, will the reader notice? Will it actually feel like something's miss it, or will a reader never notice? Mind, I'm not saying that as a writer you can't tell if something is superfluous, or that anything you cut will be superfluous. I'm saying sometimes even if you cut something important a reader will still get the impression that what they are reading is whole and unedited. That isn't a good thing or a bad thing: it's a neutral thing. The question you'll have to answer is what is this whole that the reader is getting, and is that whole something you're satisfied with?

Get multiple rounds of feedback from many different readers. I say this not because it's vital, because beta readers are important, because you have to have multiple perspectives on your work, etc. None of that. Getting feedback from many different readers is a form of self-care on the part of the writer. I was deathly afraid of feedback as a young writer. I welcomed praise, sure, but anything else felt too painful to bear. This changed when I took a short fiction class at Berkeley. Suddenly a short story of mine wasn't getting one round of feedback: it was getting fourteen. And not just from the professor, but from fellow students. This was a minor revolution for me in terms of accepting feedback. If I were to take, say, one round of feedback, certainly there would be some praise, but there would also be notes like "awkward phrasing", "why did x character do y?", "this is unclear", "too much description", etc. These things would burn me. I would seethe reading them, and it would hurt so deeply. But! Imagine that one of them circles a paragraph and writes "too much description" and then the other thirteen readers say absolutely nothing at all about that paragraph—maybe one even puts a smiley face next to it. THAT puts the criticism in its proper context. Maybe your writing isn't too bad! Maybe there isn't too much description. Maybe that particular reader just wasn't vibing with it, and maybe that's okay. And then let's look at it from the other perspective. Say thirteen out of fourteen papers have a sentence marked and all of them say things like "huh?", "what's this mean?", "confusing", etc. Guess what? The sentence is probably confusing. And for some reason if everyone's saying the same thing it hurts a lot less. It means, yeah, you probably made a little mistake, and that's okay. It's not one person singling you out, and it's not the case that they don't know what they're talking about. I can't emphasize enough how freeing it is to look at reviews of your work if you have a handful or more to draw from rather than just a single good friend.

It's okay to write the fun part first. You may have a plot device you're really excited about, but to get there, you have to introduce your characters, have them get together, have them go to a place, meet someone else, etc. And it may take time and energy to write all that. You may feel pressured to get through that before you get to the part you really want to write. You certainly can, but you do not have to. I don't know if younger writers can appreciate exactly what it means to have a computer. You can write a little bit now and literally copy and paste it into some other document later. Try doing that with a typewriter! You can write something like "Insert paragraphs later of characters traveling to x location". You can even drop a variable in there so it's easy to find with the search function later (e.g. "ZZZZZ insert scene description here"—now you just need to search for "ZZZZZ"). You can put it in a different color on the screen so it's easy to find when scrolling. You can paste a freaking photo into your document! It's extraordinary what you can do with a computer that you couldn't do in years past. You've got a ton of options. But most importanly, when your work is done, no one will know what order you wrote it in.

In fiction, nothing has to happen. Villains don't have to be punished; heroes don't have to win; characters don't have to have a specific arc that comes to some conclusion. Honestly, one of the tropes (if you can even call it a trope) that I find most frustrating in sequels for movie franchises is after the characters are introduced, they take a few character and assign to them the major story conflict, and then for the rest, they give them a mini arc. It's like, "Mondo 2: Exploding the Mondoverse sees our hero Larjo Biggins take on new villain the Krunge as the very core of the Mondoverse is threatened with destruction! Also, Siddles Nuli learns its okay to be left out sometimes and she shouldn't get her feelings hurt, and Old Mucko learns that even though technology is advancing, sometimes good old fashioned common sense is just what the doctor ordered!" If you get to the end of your story, and you feel it's done, you don't have to panic if you suddenly realize we don't know whether Hupsi ever made it to Bumbus 7. It's okay if Story A is resolved but Story B is not.

I don't care if you used Trope A in your new story even though you used Trope A in your past seven stories and neither should you. Seriously, you think anyone was complaining when Agatha Christie put out another mystery novel? "Oh. Mystery again, huh? Gee, we were all hoping you'd write a book about the struggles traditional fishing villages are facing in the wake of industrial modernization." No we fucking weren't!

I hope you find some of this useful. Whether you did or not, though, be sure you enjoy what you're doing. If you are, you're doing the right thing.

[mickyschumacher]

NGL I LOVE UR WORK... ive been hopping thru ur m.list since the last hour.... its currently 1 am and i have an essay to finish before 8 am(im sure my prof will give me more time ik dey love me) anywasy i was wondering if u could do an enemies to lovers with Lewis((like really hated eachother)the reader could be a driver its oky don mind what she does) and then they were arguing abt sumting lewis says something thats completely out of the line and she starts crying in front him then he just kinda leaves her be, a few days later he would go on then apologize to her abt wat he said and then more fluff. (just ignore this if ur not into it or not takin a request at the moment. but im actually just hapi i kind of got the courage to ask u for a request also ur stories are soooo good i admire and envy u at the same time.)

[RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME!]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: as lewis's former teammate, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. but a bad move from lewis puts him completely out of line.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: enemies to lovers trope!, poor humour, some fluff, in depth moment of an alternated 2021 wdc (apologies in advance), therefore ANGST, bad race jargon, horner and masi discussed :(, mention of intermittent explosive disorder, misogyny, allusion to racism (not from the reader ofc!), shitting on the fia for a bit, lewis kinda being a dick for probably an unfair reason lol, a proclamation of feelings from sir lewis himself

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lewis hamilton x red bull!driver!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3k+

𝐀/𝐍: you're too sweet to me! 🤧 i couldn't tell if you wanted this to be romantic but i went that way in the end! hope this was good! ♡︎ very very loosely based of swift's 'right where you left me'. but if you argued it wasn't, i would be inclined to agree. proof-read...ish?

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

No one ever truly understood your move to Red Bull. It was in 2019, far from when Max was practically living on pole, so Red Bull wasn't exactly a threat to Mercedes, your previous team. Toto had even put a three-year extension on the table several months before your contract came close to expiring.

Yet you had chosen to sign with the devil.

When the commentators, journalists, and fans took a closer look at your decision, the only thing they could all collectively agree on was that you had moved to Red Bull because of Lewis Hamilton. Because you both couldn't keep your differences aside and Lewis had finally struck your last nerve.

While you weren't quite sure about the last part, the first was true. You had Lewis had never ever exactly met eye-to-eye. Every F1 driver had a specific style of driving. You liked to call Lewis' the 'calm before the storm'. He raced with a composure and maturity that most drivers did not hold. He was particularly calculative and the everyone loved him.

You, on the other hand, had given yourself a new nickname along side 'Flash 13' because you did everything in a flash: you overtook ruthlessly and calculated, you pushed the car till it was undrivable, and you were decisive to the very nanosecond. But you had also garnered yourself the name 'IED', after the behavioural disorder.

In part this nickname was due to the misogyny you faced as the only current female driver in F1 but also due to the sheer anger that bursted out of you whenever you encountered Lewis.

The amount of warnings Toto had given the both of you was simply endless. He had even resorted to putting you two with the team therapist.

The source of your hatred for each other was as clear as day. You hated Lewis' arrogance because somehow it was even worse than Rosberg, Alonso, Räikkönen, and Verstappen. And Lewis hated you for your 'perspective'. You didn't know what he initially meant by that but you regretted asking him. He said you needed to be stronger to be in F1 and that you were far too soft-hearted. Right after you had gotten your first ever pole.

It was ridiculous, to say the least.

No F1 driver was soft-hearted. You were all, simply put, a bunch of dicks. Not literally, of course. Naturally, following that comment, Lewis had pissed you off. He hadn't even had a second to know you before even making that judgement. It was ironic as well, considering your nickname that labelled your anger.

After watching Lewis win several championship titles with you following multiple places behind and seeing you only get angrier with each other, you had decided to call it quits for Mercedes. If people were going to take your annoyance and frustrations with amusement, you were going to head to the angriest team of all and leave your former team fuming.

Two years later, in 2021, you had finally gotten the perfect opportunity.

You hadn't really a clue how exactly Red Bull had made the 2021 car so well that you were matching the speed of Mercedes' car but you didn't care. You were matching Lewis. And Christian Horner was a happy man. A sexist prick but a happy man nonetheless.

Pole was either Lewis' or yours. Either he was a Grand Prix winner or you were. It was a game of cat and mouse, always in a constant pursuit of each other. The same went from your team leaders, Toto and Christian, who practically had the race director, Masi, on speed dial.

And by Abu Dhabi, you were equally tied, locked at 369.5 points. It hadn't been easy after getting penalised for multiple incidents against Lewis, but you were here. Lewis was trying to get his eighth championship and you your first.

You weren't sure how this was going to end. Heck, no one could've predicted what happened that day. But all you knew was that you were not going down without a fight.

You secured pole in Abu Dhabi which had put the entirety of Mercedes and F1 on edge. After a discussion with your engineer and several strategists, you had opted for soft tyres to further your advantage over Lewis.

Despite all of that, it was Lewis who had led the first corner after those red lights had gone out. It was only by turn six did you even get a lead. But it was a moment too short as your former teammate regained his top position by going off into the damn run-off area of the track.

You didn't need to scream in annoyance. You couldn't hear Horner, but deep down you knew he had already called up Masi, demanding an investigation. Your engineer reported to you that the stewards had dismissed it. The gap between you and Lewis was getting bigger, the race was coming to and end, and you knew you needed a miracle towards the end of the race if you wanted to win.

And that miracle was called Nicholas Latifi. The poor guy had crashed into Mick and the safety car was out on the tracks. Thankfully, they were both okay, but the timing of it was simply impeccable.

You had pitted to get new soft tyres and Mercedes was on the fence about heading to the pit lane in fear of the race restarting. So Lewis didn't pit. Miracle 2.

You re-joined the track with five lapped cars in between you and Lewis. And soon enough, Race Control had given the dooming message: lapped cars were not allowed to overtake.

The taste in your mouth was bitter. You had cussed out Horner, asking why you were even seeing these lapped cars in front of you.

Then came Race Control again: only the five cars in between you and Lewis were allowed to overtake. Miracle 3.

But of course, F1 had a flair for the dramatics. Because you were fucking restarting. Putting you and Lewis on a tight show-down for the final lap.

The bad news? Lewis hadn't pitted yet.

The good news? You could overtake Lewis. Miracle 4.

And the headline? You won.

You fucking won.

You were F1's first female champion in history.

You made history... or, well, herstory?

Yes it was controversial. Yes it was dramatic. Yes, questionable decisions had been made.

But you won.

By the time you had gotten out of your car and finished with screaming and crying in pure happiness, you had finally caught a glimpse of Lewis.

A small part of you felt bad. You knew for a fact, that these decisions weren't 'human error' as the FIA would go on to claim the following year in Bahrain.

It was entertainment. It was business. It was money.

You had both worked so hard this year. But the fight between an F1 driver breaking the record for the most championship titles and the first possible female champion in F1 was too good to resist.

Things between you and Lewis after Abu Dhabi hadn't gotten worse. You just talked far less than you normally did. You barely argued with each other anymore. It was disconcerting to say the least. Especially now that you were struggling to match Max's pace, always coming second or third as per the instructions of your engineer. For a moment you thought, what was the point of winning if you weren't going to win again?

━━━━━━━━━━━

You were still determined. Beating your own teammate would be hard. But you weren't a stranger to the idea. You had spent years trying to beat Lewis while purposely being the support for him to win. They were two actions they didn't go together but it had happened.

That being said, the venture was proving to be more difficult than you anticipated. In fact, it had caused a full collision with Lewis in the first lap of the Qatar Grand Prix.

You were so focused on beating Max you hadn't taken a second to look around you.

"What the fuck was that?" Lewis' voice invaded the air as he barged into your driver's room, ridden with sweat and still in his racing gear.

"Look, I'm sorry okay. I didn't see you. It was my fault. End of story," You told him curtly, not really wanting talk to Lewis any further.

"Damn right, you didn't see me. You could've taken me or anyone out! Are you so fucking stuck up your ass that you couldn't see me?" Lewis asked incredulously.

You scoffed at his accusation. It was true. But you didn't like when the truth fell from his lips... especially not when they sounded like that.

"Lewis, drop it. No one got hurt. Let's just move on okay?" You queried, annoyance dripping from your voice.

"Why? Can't handle the truth, L/N?" He laughed gently, almost mocking you. "Right... you were always like that."

You snapped your head towards him, raising a sharp brow. "Excuse me?" You spat as if to say he was becoming dangerously close to crossing a line he did not want to cross.

Lewis folded his arms, shrugging nonchalantly. "What? You don't like the truth. It's simple. I told you that you need to be stronger because you're too soft-hearted. And you hated that. And now that I'm telling you that you're selfish, you obviously can't handle it."

"Oh my God, you are one to talk. Lewis, you are so blinded by your arrogance that you can't see anyone else win. That's why you can't accept that I won right?"

"Not Abu Dhabi, aga–"

"Yes, Lewis, Abu Dhabi again. You are so fucking sour about losing that even when the hate targeted me, you let it. You let them say that my win was due to race and gender. Me, Lewis, out of all people, me."

No matter your differences, you had stuck up for Lewis on many accounts when it came to the FIA, 'fans', and haters. But he wasn't there for you.

You could see dark expression fall onto Lewis' face. "That's not true, Y/N."

"Then what was it Lewis?" You flailed your hands in exasperation. "Because you sure as hell didn't come to my aid."

"Because you didn't deserve it!"

You blinked blankly, arms falling to your side. Your mind took a minute to process the words that had fallen from his lips in mere seconds.

Lewis' face dropped as realisation struck him. What the fuck did he just say? "Y/N, I–"

"Get out," You grumbled.

Lewis did a double-take on the fresh line of tears accumulating on your waterline. He took a step closer to you, hands reaching out. "No, no, no, Y/N, I–" But your words made him stop.

"Lewis, get the fuck out of here before I start screaming like the bitch everyone thinks I am."

You watched Lewis return his hands to the side, clenching his jaw tightly as he made way to the door of your room. He stopped briefly, hesitating to open the door, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Four days.

You had pondered in deep thought for four days. And after 72 hours, one thing had become obvious to you.

Lewis wasn't with you or any of the other drivers. He was still in 2021, right where you had left him. Not a second had gone by for Lewis where he hadn't thought about Abu Dhabi.

What if he had just pushed for Bono and Toto to get him in that pit lane?

What if he had veered the car a little to the side and you didn't overtake him?

Lewis was still reliving the worst moment of his career and his life and everyone had moved on. Sure, every fan and commentator talked about it time to time. But it was something of the past.

To say you didn't deserve your championship title... you had heard it from several 'fans' and insignificant others. But to hear it from Lewis? It fucking killed you.

You cared about his opinion more than anyone in the world. And he knew that.

You would've never said anything as shitty as that to him or anyone for that matter.

You had worked your ass off to get to F1. Fuck, you had won F2 two fucking times because no one was willing to let a girl on their team... into a man's sport. Every driver worked hard to a certain degree. But you were a girl who didn't grow up with the means of driving yourself to your death every day. If everyone worked hard, you had worked ten times harder.

Everyone knew that you and Lewis had fought. And by the looks of it, they also knew it was far worse than your normal fights. You wouldn't look at him, you refused to speak to him, you spent minimal time in the same room, you had even paid your media fines in full to avoid everyone...

Max had even become some sort of bodyguard, telling Lewis to turn back around when he neared the Red Bull garage.

All of this protection, and yet, he had still found you in your favourite place. The one you both came to when you needed to become level-headed. The top stand of any empty Grand Prix, in this case the México Grand Prix, where the air felt a little bit cooler against your heated skin and you could think for even it was for just a second.

You sucked in a sharp breath, seeing Lewis in your periphery while you were firmly seated. He looked nervous, chewing on his bottom lip and taking cautious glances at you.

"Hey," Lewis greeted, making you raise a brow at his lame entrance.

You forced yourself to look at the rest of the empty seats in front of you. "Hey," You mumbled back, trying to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth.

An unsettling silence enveloped the both of you. You were sure Lewis was here to apologise. But you could also tell he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in a selfish way. But in the most guiltiest way possible.

You sighed. "How are you?" You asked gently, peeking out of the corner of your eye.

Lewis winced at your question. Leave it up to you to still be this kind after what he had said to you. "Sorry. I'm so so sorry," He rasped, voice raw with the pain that had been gnawing away at him ever since those god forbidden words had left his mouth.

You nodded slowly, taking another deep breath. "I know you're going to call me soft-hearted but what you said really fucking hurt, Lew," You jested with a brief smile.

Lewis grimaced at your poor humour, before his ears perked up at the old nickname you had given him when you first started getting on each other's nerves. "I know. I'm an idiot for saying something like that. Or that you're soft-hearted. You've worked so hard for all of this. You absolutely deserve everything and that win was only the first of many, I'm a hundred percent sure of it. Your Dutch shortie doesn't really know what's coming."

You gave him a tight-lipped smile after huffing in amusement at his diss towards Max. "Thank you," you told him earnestly. "Although, I am quite positive he is like almost ten centimetres taller than you. But, thanks anyways."

Lewis rolled his eyes. "Have you seen me? You don't think I give off tall energy?"

"You mean tall in insults?" You joked, grinning at the blank look on Lewis' face.

Lewis sighed. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean any of it. And by 'it', I mean all of the insults and fights. I was just disappointed in myself. Even more so that I didn't stand up for you. I'm so sorry."

You drew your eyebrows together, turning your body to face him. Confusion filled you. "Then why did you say it at all?"

"I–" Lewis blew out a small laugh. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Lewis, can you not see me dying here? Like a whole kitchen set of knives in my back?" You deadpanned.

Lewis rolled his eyes again. So dramatic.

He brought his hands together, staring at you briefly before looking at the empty stand. "Well, obviously, I heard of you before you joined Mercedes. I thought it was ridiculous that you had to get two F2 championships to get a seat, but anyways, I digress. Toto told me, he was considering you even though you had never been in the junior team.

And I remember just being so fucking jealous of you. Toto was consumed by you. He and Horner had been fighting for your seat for so long and now that they finally had an open seat, it was chaos. Toto won, obviously. And then we met each other in person for the first time and I thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world."

You felt your heart begin to race and your skin heat at the sudden proclamation. "You... you what?"

Lewis smoothly glossed over the compliment. "And then we had our first quali together and you beat me. You got pole on your first race. So you were talented and beautiful. A crime, might I add.

And so when you came to tell me, you were so excited with all your talent and beauty, I was pissed. Because out of all things in the world, I had gotten an amazing competitor I was bound to feel for. I thought that by saying you were soft-hearted and all, it would get on your bad side and it would make me less attracted to you. It didn't. It got worse while it got easier to pretend to hate you."

You blinked blankly at him, cheeks aflame. Lewis Hamilton liked you. Your stupid teammate? The same one who's eighth championship you arguably took? "I'm sorry... hold up, we've been fighting for years because I'm a hot, talented, gifted, smart driver and you're a simp?"

Lewis squinted his brown eyes at you. "I did not include all those adjectives."

"I mean... that's basically what you said," You shrugged, flickering your eyes to the setting sun.

Where did all the damn cool air go? You wondered, pressing your hands to your flushed cheeks and feeling your soft palm absorb the molten lava known as your skin.

Lewis chuckled, picking up your flustered reaction quickly. He watched as you suddenly stood up. "Okay, well I'm... I'm going to meet Hugh and find a way to beat Max. See ya!"

Lewis paused, grabbing your wrist. "Wait? What? You aren't going comment about what I just said?"

You eyed his hold on your wrist: it was searing you. You turned to him, lowering your head to meet his gaze. You briefly looked down at his lips before looking back up. "I think I prefer hating you."

Lewis felt you press your lips on his cheek before walking past him. He watched your retreating figure, your kiss feeling heavy on his face, putting him right where you had left him: absolutely and utterly smitten.

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[lizhaoyu]

OMD THE TEA??? TAG ME IN PT 3 PLSPLS 🙏

Why so shy? PART 3

(A/N: Hello, gaymers. I don't know why you guys are shipping Iso x Clove and Iso x Gekko or Iso x Deadlock when you guys should CLEARLY ship ME WITH HIM instead. Anyway, I already wrote parts 3 and 4 in advance, I just forgor. Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.)

(WARNINGS: OOC Omen)

(GN!Reader x Iso) Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (You are here.)

Part 4

Nervous.

That was no longer what you were feeling right now.

You were too busy running away from the medical ward and back to the privacy of your room.

Maybe it isn't Iso. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was your fault for getting ahead of yourself. Maybe it was your fault for assuming that Iso liked you in the same way that you do.

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your hopes up.

You stop in front of your door, panting heavily. You had to prevent your tears from falling out of your eyes, especially outside of your room.

Your eyes slowly started blurring from the tears as you tried to pry open your door.

notnownotnownotnownotnow, your mind raced.

You successfully unlocked your door and stumble inside.

Finally, you're alone, just as you always were. You let the tears fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks and clothes.

You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe then, you wouldn't be crying, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn't be in this situation—

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.

You immediately wiped your tears away and sucked everything up, before approaching your door.

"W-Who is it?" You ask through the door, trying your best to sound like you weren't crying.

"It's me, Omen." Omen's gruff voice was muffled from the outside.

You sniffle, slowly getting up and opening the door slightly, enough for you to peek out and see Omen.

"Hey, Omen... Do you need something?" You ask, albeit a little too quiet for your liking.

"Greetings," Omen nods.

"I've noticed that the atmosphere around the HQ seems a little darker than usual," Omen's 'eyes', which were just three slits, moved as he spoke.

"The shadows also seem a little unstable." Omen continued.

"I've already checked up on Fade, and she is in great condition. You however..." Omen paused, 'looking' at your eyes intently.

"I came to check in on you. The hallway leading here was especially dark, and it felt heavy." Omen nods.

"Oh- No, I'm okay, Omen. It must be someone else's ability...?" You reason, although you were bad at lying.

"But you are the only one with shadow-related abilities in this hallway." Omen tilts his head. If Omen had a real, human face, you'd probably see a very unimpressed expression on it.

"Well, shit." You sigh.

"I am your mentor. You can tell me," Omen paused.

"Though I may not understand nor offer any help, I am here." Omen continued.

is it just me or Omen is so very OOC rn lol, you thought.

"...Come in." You sigh, sliding the door open wider, wide enough for Omen to come in.

"Thank you." Omen nods, walking in your room.

You slide the door shut and turn to Omen, who took a seat on your desk chair. You were comfortable enough around Omen, as he was your mentor and your very first friend in the VP.

"It feels even heavier here," Omen breaks the silence.

"I take it that your problem must be even heavier on you." Omen turns to you as you sat down on you bed.

"It's just like what I have told you in the past. Your emotions affect your abilities greatly," Omen nods, clasping his hands together.

"Take Neon or Reyna for example." Omen continued.

"To lift the heavy energy emanating from your abilities, you must let out your emotions; Talk to someone." Omen nods.

"Or like how Reyna does it: Take it out on others." Omen visibly sighed, but no sound of it comes.

"However, I know that you are better than that. So, let's discuss what you are feeling," Omen 'glanced' at you.

"I... I don't know if you'll understand, Omen. It's... about love." You sigh.

this is so cringe bruh who even says its about love bro, you thought.

"I do not expect myself to understand, either. I am not profound in the topic of love," Omen shook his head.

"But I will listen." Omen continued.

"Communication is key, either you tell them, or you tell me. Either works fine," Omen looked around your room

damn bro when did omen suddenly know about love and communication bro im cooked, you thought.

But confessing to Iso? Hell no. You're already hurt by the current situation, you'd be stupid to confess and expect a different outcome.

"It's... about Iso." You sigh, rubbing the back of your head in hesitation.

"The new recruit? I see," Omen nods.

"I've... been interested in him ever since he first arrived," You sigh, averting your gaze.

"I thought I was making progress; That if I pursue him and show him that I like him, he'd feel the same way." You murmur, eyes locked onto your fingers.

"He was starting to say things that might mean something more, in a more than friends way." You say, recalling the things that have happened a few hours earlier.

"It even went as far as him asking me to go out and get some food," You lower your head.

"But I was stupid. I got ahead of myself." Tears started welling in your eyes.

"I started assuming that he liked me back; That he felt the same way." You stifle back a sob.

"So, it was really painful when I heard him asking Sage out on a date," You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

"It was my fault for assuming that he likes me too." You held your hands to your face.

"...I see." Omen nods quietly.

"You can't have everything you want," Omen starts.

"And it's not that easy." Omen shook his head.

"But you have to understand that maybe Sage and Iso have a lot more things in common that you and him," Omen explained.

"Or what maybe Iso likes Sage more, maybe he's had his eye on her since he came." Omen nods

You could feel your heart breaking, slowly shattering into pieces.

"But I'm not saying that to hurt you," Omen shook his head.

"I am opening your eyes to see the truth; To see that you're not the only one for Iso." Omen continued.

"You're not the only one who may have an interest on Iso," Omen shook his head, 'looking' at you.

"Not everyone wins, and you must learn how to accept that; That Iso likes Sage and not you." Omen's words sent a pang of pain in your through your heart.

not you. notyounotyounotyounotyounotyounot-

"The shadows are suffocating." Omen says, snapping you out of your trance.

"I'm sorry, Omen." You sigh.

"Acceptance. Learn to accept it." Omen looked at the closed curtains of your window.

Maybe this was for the best. If Iso wanted to be with Sage, who were you to oppose that? You're just a friend.

Everything was just a friendly gesture.

"I understand. I know better now," You took a deep breath.

"Thank you so much, Omen." You smile softly, drying your tears.

"Do you really know better now?" Omen asks.

"I do, thanks to you. I'm really grateful for that." You nod.

"It's good that you're still learning from my words." Omen nods, standing up from his seat.

"You're the best mentor I could ever ask for, Omen. I'm always learning from you." You smile at him, also standing up.

You walk with Omen to the door, sliding it open for him..

"I expect only the best from you. Don't let this weigh you down." Omen nods, walking out of your room.

You slid the door shut as Omen left your room.

Omen's right. Even if you thought that Omen was a little too out of character earlier, whatever he said was right.

You sigh and walk to your desk, before noticing a little purple octopus gun buddy on the chair that Omen said on.

Omen must've left it on accident. You took it into your hands and headed for the door to chase after Omen.

You slide the door open and wow. Reality and fate must really enjoy hardfucking you in every single angle, huh?

In front of the open door of your room, outside the hallway was Iso with a small smile on his face.

"There you are." Iso smiles, taking out one earbud off of his ear.

whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, you thought.

"Are you ready to go?" Iso asks.

go where? to heaven? yes im so fucking ready, you thought.

"Uh... huh?" You murmur.

"Did you forget? We're going out for hotpot, remember?" Iso chuckles.

"Oh, right," You avert your gaze.

I FUCKING FORGOT, you thought.

How were you gonna do this? You can't face Iso now.

"Is something wrong? You promised that we'd still go despite my injury," Iso tilts his head.

well shit it might be my fault for promising, you thought.

"I wanted to thank you for healing and saving me." Iso smiles, nodding.

"Right..." You nod hesitantly.

"So, are you ready?" Iso asked.

"Um, yeah." You step out of your room, sliding the door close behind you.

"Nice. Hm?" Iso smiles, then looks at your open palm.

"What's that?" Iso asks, gesturing to the octopus gun buddy.

"Oh... This is Omen's gun buddy. He must've forgotten about it and left it in my room." You show him the gun buddy.

"I was gonna return it to him, but maybe in another time." You shook your head, pocketing the gun buddy.

"Anyway, where are we headed?" You look at him.

"I know this hotpot place in the city. It's not that famous and crowded, so we can chill while eating," Iso smiles, pocketing his phone.

"I mean, we could just buy ingredients for hotpot and make it here, like what me and Sage did..." Iso paused.

Your ears rang. Sage again.

"But since it's gonna be about thanking you. I want it to be extra special." Iso smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

Your heart started beating faster.

No. Remember what Omen said. Don't get ahead of yourself.

Your mind was blank, trying to block out any thought.

"There's a mall near the hotpot place. We could go there if you'd like." Iso smiles.

Why's he acting like he has so much time? Doesn't he have a date with Sage?

Shut up. That's none of your business.

"Let's head to the city." Iso smiles, nodding his head.

-

You and Iso arrive at the bustling streets of the city. You looked around, observing the food stalls. Some were colorful, some were simple and bland.

Maybe going out with Iso to the city isn't so bad. It could take your mind off of things.

"What kind of food do you like?" Iso asked, walking with you through the bustling street.

"I don't really mind anything, nothing specific." You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders.

"What about flowers?" Iso asked.

Why's he asking that?

"Well, I've never really received flowers, soo... I don't think I have anything I prefer in mind." You shook your head again.

"Do you like lilacs?" Iso asked, question after question.

"I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions." Iso smiles sheepishly.

"It's okay," You smile, shaking your head AGAIN. STOP SHAKING YOUR HEAD BRUH

This is just him getting to know you in a friendly way.

"Lilacs... I think lilacs are beautiful. Back in my college years, I used to research about lilacs." You hum.

"They have a lot of meaning to them. I think I'm confident that I love lilacs," You nod.

"Lilacs are related to your title, right?" You ask.

"Mm, yeah." Iso nods, his hands in his pockets.

"How about a dream date?" Iso asked.

"Huh? How'd it come to that all of a sudden?" You laugh.

It's getting difficult trying to ignore the thoughts.

"Sorry, was that too personal?" Iso chuckles.

"It's alright, no harm done." You smile.

"Before you answer, let's head to the hotpot place so we can get comfortable." Iso suggests.

"Good idea. Lead the way, then." You nod, trailing behind Iso.

-

Following Iso proved to be difficult in this lively street.

You lost Iso a couple of times. But thankfully, Iso was tall enough to so you could see his head above the others.

In one instance, you lost track of Iso and simply walked ahead. What startled you was the hand that suddenly grabbed your wrist.

"Hey, where are you going?" You turned and was met with Iso's lavender eyes with a worried expression on his face.

"Oh- Sorry! I lost you and I thought you were just walking ahead." You smile sheepishly.

"You can hold onto my arm so we don't lose each other." Iso offered his arm for you to hold onto.

There you go, you couldn't stop your face from flushing.

ohmygod im litereally about to bust bro someone call cleanup aisle my underwear cuz i have the niagra falls here with me, you thought.

You had to mentally reprimand yourself to stop getting ahead of yourself. Iso only offered it because you keep losing each other.

You nod hesitantly, holding onto his arm.

mygod he's so close to me dude im boutta bust the biggest nut ever, your mind raced, as well as your heart.

-

Holding onto Iso's arm surprisingly went well, and navigating through the crowd became easier.

Oddly enough, when you and Iso got away from the crowed, he didn't shake your arm off or move away.

It was more than enough to have you overthinking again.

POOKIE STOP THIS OHMYGOD DID YOU NOT LEARN FROM OMEN AT ALL, you mentally scolded yourself.

Okay, stop. Friends do this too, you know?

You and Iso arrived at the hotpot place that he talked about.

Iso went ahead, opening the door for you.

You smile, mouthing a small thank you and entering the restaurant.

While you checked out the place, Iso went to the receptionist for the table. The place looked to be a Chinese restaurant, with some Chinese writings on a red banner or paintings that you may or may not understand.

The tables and chairs looked to be made of red wood, with Chinese-style teapot and cups place in the middle of the table.

The atmosphere was calm and there were at least four groups of three in sight.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt a tap on your shoulder and see Iso with two menus on his hand.

"Hey, ready to take a seat?" Iso smiles at you, offering you the menu.

"Yeah," You nod, taking the menu.

You followed Iso to a table for two and sat down.

"So, about your dream date..." Iso paused.

"Oh, right. I don't really have a preference, but I think cafe dates or library dates are really good." You pondered for a moment.

"Dates that are peaceful and calm seems to slow down time, which means I get to appreciate and enjoy the date for longer." You smile at him.

"How about you? Do you have any preferences?" You ask.

"I like museum dates. The pictures I could get from it would look wonderful." Iso nods.

"Have you ever been on a date before?" You blurt out before you could stop yourself.

"Well... Today will be my first time." Iso smiles sheepishly.

Oh. His date with Sage.

Your ears started ringing again.

"We should order," Iso's voice snapped you out of your trance.

"Oh- Right. Sorry, I spaced out." You smile apologetically, looking through the menu with Iso.

-

Two hours had passed, it was now the afternoon. You and Iso walked around near the lake, talking and laughing, getting to know each other better.

Although you knew that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, it wasn't so bad.

"We should head back to HQ," Iso sighs, his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, we should." You nod in response.

He still had a date with Sage, after all. Who were you to take up more of his time? Maybe he just wanted to go out with a friend before his date.

"I had a lot of fun." Iso looks at you, a small smile on his lips.

"Me too. I haven't been going out lately, so this was a nice change." You turn to him with a smile.

"I hope we'll do this again soon." Iso adds.

"I hope so too." You nod.

It made you sad that this was the closest as you can get to going on an actual date with Iso.

But that was okay.

-

You arrived back to HQ with Iso, seeing Sage seemingly waiting for Iso.

Your eyes met with Sage's as she smiled at you.

she must be really excited to go out with iso, you thought.

You said a simple and quick 'bye' to Iso before power-walking back to your room.

You hear Iso calling after you, which only fueled your tears as you ran away.

Here you were, crying from the start, and still crying in the end.

-

(A/N: wsg gaymers, what'd you guys think of my long ass updates lol, thanks for reading and supporting Why So Shy? and my other Iso works.)

[twit-ter-pa-ted]

Hi, I saw that your request is open but I am not sure where to request you so I send here. Hope this is correct.

Can I request for anime sanji? I have some ideas where f reader like him but feel insecure so she don't confess. And for sanji, he feel that he don't deserve love so he keep thinking the reader is just kind. And maybe the crew make them confess or something. Not sure this is enough but thank you in advance!

The Exception

pairing: anime!Vinsmoke Sanji x f!Reader

warnings: silly mutual pining, the crew making everything so very obvious, reader and sanji kind of being blind, reassurances!! <3

a/n: thank you for requesting! yes, you requested at the right place hehe. i really enjoyed writing this one :)

+ lil backstory for the title, i was thinking of one then thought of 'foolish one' by t.swift, but like obviously with how the title is written, reader obviously is the exception. yeah that's about it. enjoy reading!

You had always known Sanji to be the flirty type.

Every woman he'd see, he'd end up talking to - flirting with.

Even you fell for the trap. Moreover, you had fallen for him.

You know you shouldn't, because he flirted with every woman he'd come across. You weren't anyone special, certainly not to him.

But then there would be times that it seemed as if he would slip. "Would you like some snacks while you wait, my missus?"

Your eyes widened at the pet name but you tried to hide it, given that he would probably often use it with others, too.

Usopp watched curiously from afar as the two of you looked away from each other, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

Sanji can't believe he just called you that. He hoped he hadn't called himself out.

Luffy then suddenly approached the two of you.

"Hey! How's my favorite cook and favorite crew member doing?" He placed an arm around both your shoulders.

You chuckled as you were saved from the awkward tension you think you created. "You can't say I'm your favorite crew member, Luffy."

"Why not? I'm the captain."

"I was just offering to make Miss Y/N a snack, captain." Sanji looked at you as he spoke, though you couldn't bring yourself to look back at him.

"Oh, I want one!" Luffy took his arm from around your shoulders to raise his hand.

"What about you, lovely?" He asked you. You finally looked at him.

"Sure, Sanji." You smiled up at him. "Anything will do, thank you.

He nodded with courtesy. "Coming right up. It won't take long."

Nami was waiting inside the cabin when Sanji entered to use the kitchen. "Oh, Miss Nami," he noticed her presence, "I'm making snacks for the captain and Y/N, would you like something specific?"

"I'll have whatever they're having. Thanks," she spoke, seeming distracted.

Sanji went on to start making a snack that he thought you'd like. While doing so, he noticed Nami's gaze remained on him.

"Anything I can help you with?"

Nami smiled. "You like her."

Sanji looked at her, then uttered your name in a question. He then chuckled nervously as he looked back down at what he was cutting up.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"The fact that you immediately thought of her when I didn't give any hints or names as to who I'm talking about."

Sanji paused from cutting, then went back to it. "No, it's nothing like that. She's too good for me. She should be with someone who actually deserves to be loved by her."

"You just said it's nothing like that then proceeded to prove me it's something like that." Sanji only smiled - he got caught and he knew it.

"Don't mind it, Miss Nami, it's not a big deal." Nami, finding that she had gotten the information she needed, shrugged her shoulders and went to her room.

Meanwhile, as you watched Sanji retreat into the kitchen, Luffy looked between you and Sanji's departing figure.

"Seems you and Sanji are getting along well, huh?" You hummed.

"Zoro told me you had a crush on him." You almost choked. "Is that true?"

"Zoro?" You looked at where he laid, sleeping on the floor of the main deck. Your volume lowered.

"You don't think he told Sanji, do you?"

Luffy didn't seem to get your hint for him to lower his voice, as he laughed very loud. "With how much they play around and shout at each other, I don't think they have time to talk about those things."

You squinted your eyes at him. "You're not telling Sanji, are you?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "No. Why, should I?"

"No!"

"Gosh, Luffy, don't you know the principles in these types of situations?" Usopp had began approaching the two of you.

"What situations?" Luffy curiously asked.

Usopp sighed hopelessly. "Don't worry. I've been the Sanji in these situations a lot of times, I know just what you need to do."

"What do I need to do, Captain Usopp?" You teased, deciding to go along his narrative. Usopp's face lit up as you called him captain, a smile appearing on his lips.

"Hey, I'm the captain," Luffy argued.

"Shh, now." Usopp waved at Luffy dismissively while keeping his gaze on you. He then placed a hand on the ledge you were leaning against and pointed at you.

"Here's what you need to do: you're gonna glance at each other shyly at first, then you'd start to get closer to each other until not a day passes where you don't talk endlessly, then he's gonna tell you how he finds you beautiful and how you light up his world, then you'll share a kiss of happy ever after."

You turned to Luffy, though he seemed convinced.

"Woah, that sounds so cool!" Luffy genuinely/ gawked.

"...Isn't that the plot for famous romance stories?"

You questioned to affirm.

"...No," Usopp denied.

You shook her head as you exhaled. "Either way, I'm not doing that. I'd just be making a fool of myself."

One of their brows raised in unison. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, look at me." They looked, and they looked puzzled. You chuckled. Of course you had to point it out, it was them you were talking to. "I'm not exactly pretty."

Their eyes widened, bewildered.

"...WHAT?"

You heard the sound of a sword unsheathing from the main deck.

"Oh. Zoro!" Luffy waved at the swordsman, clueless that his exclamation had led to him waking up.

"Sorry, Zoro, we're all safe!" Usopp reassured.

"Then why are you screaming for?!" Zoro shouted back, scolding them.

"Boy, he sure gets grumpy when he gets woken up." Usopp scratched the nape of his neck.

Luffy's booming voice echoed across the ship's entire deck. "We're telling her how to tell Sanji she likes him!"

"Are you trying to tell him yourself?!" You and Usopp knocked him upside the head.

"Shh, he'll hear you!" Usopp said at the same time.

"You're not telling me you like that curl-fry freak?" Zoro asked as he got into position to go back to sleep.

"What does it matter? Nothing's obviously going to happen."

"Not when you're bringing yourself down. You need to stop doing that." He crossed his arms and shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry, okay?" You looked at the three of them.

"I'm sorry that the truth offends you." Usopp and Luffy gently knocked you upside the head.

* * * * * *

Everyone knew about your little crush at this point. And Sanji had to have heard Luffy.

He was acting odd now, but not in a way that anyone who didn't observe him as much as you did would notice.

"Miss Nami, would you like some refreshment? I made cocktails to battle the heat," he offered. You and Nami had been sitting on chairs overlooking the ocean, a table between the two of you.

"Thank you, Sanji."

What seemed like a brief pause (Nami silently signaled Sanji to approach you while the latter's cheeks became flushed) settled while you tried to mind your own business.

Then Sanji called your name. Just your name.

"Cocktail? It's good."

You swallowed the lump that built up in your throat.

"Of course it is, Sanji, you're the one that made them," you complimented as you took a glass. Though you had looked away, Sanji smiled at you at your compliment. Then he brought his foot down onto Luffy's head.

"These are for the ladies, Luffy!" He scolded as the captain reached for a glass.

Luffy frowned as he rubbed the crown of his head through his straw hat. "Ow."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the interaction.

"Thank you, Sanji."

Sanji's scowl left his face as he turned to you, a smile replacing it. "You're welcome, my love."

Nami slowly turned to you as she heard Sanji's footsteps depart.

""My love," you are kidding me," she was first to speak.

"He's called you "my love," before," you argued with a chuckle.

"He called me "love," there's a difference, the biggest being I wasn't his love."

You shook your head. "Nami, I - "

"You have got to tell him," she told you sternly. You looked in her eyes to see if there was any way out of her decision for you.

"It doesn't mean anything, I'm telling you," you insisted.

Nami contemplated on telling you about Sanji's accidental confession of his feelings towards you.

She decided to wait on it.

* * * * * *

The crew teased you a lot.

There was no way he didn't know at this point.

There was even one time Luffy slipped up during dinner.

"You know, when I see the two of you together," he motioned towards you and Sanji, who had winded up sitting next to each other, "I just keep thinking about the time Zoro and Nami told me about your little cru - "

"Crud!" You cut him off in a shout, then stomped on his foot under the table.

"Ow!"

"Oh, crud, I - "You could see Usopp stifling a chuckle. You stomped on his foot as well.

"Ow!"

"Stubbed my toe," you said flatly. "But it's fine," you reassured.

Sanji glanced under the table and sharply exhaled. "We really do need a doctor."

He stood from the table with his plate, placing it in the sink before taking out a pack of cigarettes and facing the counter.

"You keep your mouth shut," you told Luffy with a hushed tone.

"The sooner you tell him, the sooner we'll leave this hell of you pining over him," Zoro spoke before scooping food into his mouth.

"He's oddly right," Nami agreed with the swordsman.

You glanced at everyone at the table before sighing exasperatedly. You stood wordlessly from the tahle and went to your shared room with Nami.

Sanji turned as he heard footsteps, his hand raising as he almost called for you. "Oh - " Your door swung shut before he could.

"She's heading to bed early," Nami excused you.

"Huh..." Sanji looked at your closed door and inhaled through his cigarette. "I was gonna give her a desert."

Still, he turned back around to face the counter.

"Ooh, can I have it instead?" Luffy asked, already salivating and reaching for it despite it not being finished.

"No, you can't." He kicked Luffy's hand away.

* * * * * *

You think Sanji finally had enough.

He seemed pent up today, his mouth moving as if he were speaking to himself (though the cigarette between them didn't fall), though no words came out.

It totally wasn't odd, the way you would pass by the kitchen on the way to your room and back to the main deck multiple times just so you could assess what he was feeling without staying in the same room as himself for too long.

You were on your way back to your room when he called your name. You froze in your steps and slowly turned to face him.

"Why do you keep going back and forth?"

...He noticed.

"I'm getting things from my and Nami's room," you thought quickly.

"Like what?"

Nothing came to mind. "...Things."

He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

"Are you okay? You seem pent up." He seemed taken aback when you talked before he could, because he only looked at you for a moment.

"What's been going on with you?" He asked.

"What's been going on with you? I asked you first."

He sighed and took his cigarette between his middle and index finger as he took a hit from it.

"The crew's just been having some inside joke, apparently." Your blood ran cold.

"Yeah." You nervously scratched the back of your head. "You shouldn't...listen to them."

Sanji's brows creased together with confusion.

"No, I'm supposed to tell you that." He pointed at you.

Your brows furrowed as well. "Because...?"

His eyes slightly widened. "...I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

He muttered something.

"What?"

"That I...like...you," he spoke louder this time, and more hesitant.

You were stunned for a moment.

"...Why?"

"What do you mean "why?"" He questioned bewilderedly.

"Have you seen me?" You motioned at yourself.

"Darling, all I do is look at you." He chuckled. "You're the most beautiful, most clever, most kind person I've ever met."

You laughed, flustered from his words. "Where are you getting that from?"

"From looking at you - watching you and seeing you struggle to love yourself." He ran his hand through his hair.

"But that's all I've been doing - watching. Even if somehow, you did like me - "

"I do," you cut himself off before you even realized that you did. Still, you continued. "I like you, too."

Sanji sighed, smoke leaving his lips. "We couldn't."

Your heart fell. "Why not?"

"Because I don't deserve you. I don't deserve your love. You're kind and pure, I'm scared I might," he shrugged sheepishly, "taint that."

"You won't," you reassured and absently took his hands in yours, "Here I was thinking you were too good for me."

Then the two of you just laughed, because you both realized that you both thought the same about each other. You sat in silence for a few moments, just looking at each other.

"Maybe we should just try," Sanji suggested. "We've already determined we're too good for each other, I think we should prove ourselves wrong," he humored.

"You do deserve my love," you assured him. "And I want to love you."

"So do I." He smiled at you.

He saw your reciprocated smile falter and if he looked close enough, he could swear to see the different, negative, self-conscious thoughts running through your head at that moment.

He took his hand from yours to tuck your hair behind your ear. "My beautiful, lovely Y/N."

[procyonloser]

(orc/elf Adamsapple mini. warning for mentions of childbirth and violence/bloodshed)

Adam was exhausted, his breathing was only now starting to even out, but he couldn't sleep yet. One of the taller elves handed him a round crying bundle, which he pulled up onto his breast.

The infant looked massive in comparison to the elven children that watched on from the entrance of the room - but it was minute compared to any orc children. His eldest child sat beside him on the birthing bed, sucking his thumb, not fully understanding what was going on, but he was just barely walking yet. Like his eldest, this infant had shorter pointed ears, somewhere between elf and orc, and a short tail, which the elven children found wildly hilarious. He knew his children would have a hard time growing up here, already being called names, like piglet. The alternative was impossible, his own village would kill them immediately.

Lucifer leaned in, pressing a kiss upon his brow, and then onto the newborn. A little girl, with a shock of blonde hair, showing she did take after him just as much as she did Adam.

"You've done beautifully, my love." Lucifer said, and Adam wanted to be happy, but the elven wet nurses looked at him with disdain at best, disgust at worst. They weren't supposed to allow orcs into their lands, and Lucifer was far from the most popular elf, even before he brought Adam home.

Maybe they'd find somewhere, someday, for their family - away from all the names and looks.

But how had he even gotten here? Well, it started two years back.

The orc village Adam was from was one of the largest, and Adam was the firstborn son of the current ruler. That, of course, didn't secure his position. He had to fight to keep it, and it was only a matter of time until someone challenged his father, or he was killed out on a raid. His sisters too seemed eager to get rid of him, but Adam wasn't about to let that happen. There were multiple ways to win favor within his village, but capturing an elf was always a big one.

They were fast, they could use magic, they had more advanced weaponry, and they had jewelry. They were always bedecked in things that glimmered, things that Adam's village had little of. Adam needed a wife to secure his own future as well, he needed heirs, and he needed gold to melt down and turn into a marriage dagger for the orc of his choosing. So, Adam needed an elf.

And, he'd just so happened to have spotted one in this area recently, an open glen within the woods. It was very far outside the line of their own territory, which meant the elf was either strong, or incredibly stupid - or as his mother Asherah, would say about Adam, a stunning mix of both.

Adam sat up on a high oak branch, one heavy enough to carry him, watching from above as his target made itself known. He couldn't tell if it was male or female, elves all looked the same to him, but it seemed short, even for their species. It walked around the glen, picking up sticks, bending them like it was testing the brittleness, before throwing them away. Elven bows were one of their worst weapons, the orcs had nothing so long distance besides throwing spears.

Adam waited until it was turned around, before he jumped down from his hiding spot, and swung his club hard into the elven figure with a cackle. It went flying, hitting a rocky outcrop, and collapsing as a cloud of dust rose around it. Adam grinned, resting his club on the ground, and waiting to see if the elf got back up.

"You shouldn't have come out so far, little one. You know, if you're not dead, all you need to do is give me all your jewelry and clothing, and I'll let you live." That was a lie. "You can go home." Adam wanted to see first if it was a male or female, then he'd probably trade them off to the humans.

The elf pushed up onto a hand, and Adam's grin spread. It was stronger than he'd thought. As the dust cleared, the elf got to it's feet, and made eye contact with Adam. Red eyes, that was uncommon.

"Somehow I doubt that," the elf said wryly, in a deeper voice than he'd expected. He had no weapons on him that he could see, not even a knife.

"Are you male?" Adam asked, and the elf gave a small nod. "Well, I have to admit that's less interesting."

Adam raised his club again, ready to finish the job. "Make your choice, elf."

The elf raised an eyebrow, dusting himself off, like he was entirely uninterested in Adam's threats.

Maybe because he was.

With a flick of his wrist, Adam went flying backwards, dropping his club, and falling down the side of a riverbank. Immediately, he knew something was wrong, he'd not expected such powerful magic out of an elf so small. Adam coughed, and coughed until it came up red as he landed, feeling a sharp pain begin to radiate from his center. Adam looked down, and felt cold. He'd landed on a downed tree, and a jagged broken branch had impaled him through his stomach.

The elf appeared at the edge of the riverbank, expression going from tired, to shocked. In an instant, he'd silently jumped down beside Adam, looking over the wound. "Oh no...I didn't mean for this to happen..." He whispered to himself, chewing on his lip.

Up close, Adam could see he was very pretty. A small heart shaped face, large eyes, long sharp pointed ears covered in dangling gold and gems. Adam's breathing got more haggard as he watched him move around, as though he was trying to find some angle where Adam wasn't going to die.

"Hey, what's your name?" Adam asked quietly, and the elf looked up, startled.

"Lucifer."

"I'm Adam. Could you do me a last favor? You elves have honor, right?" Lucifer paused, but nodded. "Could you give me one of your necklaces? When my people find my body, I want them to know I fought. I want my mother to have it."

Lucifer watched him, brows knit together as Adam spoke. He looked more pained than Adam felt, because, in truth, he'd started to not feel much of anything. He was cold, that's all he felt.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, why did you have to-" Lucifer shook his head, before he raised a hand, and Adam began to raise off the branch. Blood began to pour out of his open wound, as Lucifer lowered him onto river stones. A golden glow surrounded delicate fingers, and he pressed them against Adam's stomach.

"I'm not going to let you die, Adam. I'm going to heal you, then you can see your mother yourself." Lucifer said, meeting his eyes with resolution on his face. He raised a bloodied hand to Adam's cheek, caressing it just briefly, before returning it to start the healing work. Adam closed his eyes at the soft touch, and waited for death to take him, but it never came.

Adam woke up, who knew how much later, weak, but alive. They were in a cave, illuminated by a soft red glow, and he heard gentle singing, and felt a hand running through his hair. He leaned into the touch.

It was the beginning of their life together.

[krowlovesinazuma]

I posted this by accident... ;-;

Check out this prologue and this post for context!

Scenario: Talking to them about modern wars

Characters: Kujou Sara, Sangonomiya Kokomi

With your appearance and needing to protect you, combined with all the things she already has to do as part of the Tenryou Commission, you shouldn't expect her to start this conversation. She can't help but be curious sometimes, but she won't tell.

The conversation would probably start with you making an off hand comment about wars in your world, which would lead her to ask, just for the sake of it. After all, information was never bad to have as a militarist... At least, that's what she thought.

She couldn't help but wish that it was a bad joke at first, but she listened intently, and asked many questions. Some were for precautions in her line of work, others were slightly more for curiosity's sake. It's easy to tell which is which from the tone of her voice, much to her dismay.

She wanted to hear you talk about battle strategies, but sadly, the battles themselves were never the focus of general history much, to her dismay. You were able to tell her about larger strategies, however, which she did wish to hear more about.

What scared her the most were the motivations. She understood that wars were not a fight of good against evil, but even she was appalled when she heard the political issues that led to these conflicts.

Well, either that, or the sheer mass of numbers related to everything. Millions of deaths across the world, all just listed as data and passed off as history... It was terrifying for her to think about such large numbers.

And then the weaponry... She was actually interested in hearing about this quite decently, but after hearing the first few details, mainly gigantic bombs or mechanized guns, she was done.

As soon as she's done with this break of hers she's going to thoroughly rethink aggressive politics and the dangers of large-scale conflicts. Partly for her country, but she couldn't shake this fear for her men, herself, or even for you...

"Please excuse me for having interrupted you, but I do not wish to know more. It's... Unsettling to think about, especially how you just mention it so casually. I know we may have a dark past as Inazuma as well, but I assure you, we'll maintain this peace, for all our sake."

Kokomi loves reading about old warfare and similar tales in her downtime, so it was a simple matter of time before she asked about it when the two of you were just relaxing in down time.

She couldn't lie, she was half expecting you to not know, as many in Inazuma didn't know many specifics about old wars, especially since they were so many centuries ago. When you told her that the ones you spoke about were only about a century old though, she was curious.

The large scale of everything did take her off guard however. While she read of warfares, none she knew involved such large countries, especially not any that were that recent. She realized how serious of a subject this was, and yet you were so casual about it...

She asked why you treated it as common knowledge, and to her surprise, it was apparently supposed to be? It saddened her to hear that it was all just data for most people, but the thought of hearing more details kept her hooked.

The first thing that truly unsettled her were the origins of the war. She understood that it was the reason why it was spread as common knowledge, but the fact that it happened either way was more than troubling, especially as a leader herself.

She couldn't even imagine the aftermath that you described. She had gotten used to taking losses and learning to overcome them in her time as a leader, but never had she faced something so devastating as the things you describe.

And then of course, the weaponry. While she was mostly intrigued by the use of firearms and how advanced they were from swords and shields, but when the theme switched to nukes and bombardments, she was very much intimidated.

She tried to act the same after that talk, but she couldn't help but feel worried for both you and her island if tension ever came to rise. Sadly for you, that means more effort into her work for her.

"Huh? Of course I'm fine, you don't need to worry about me so much. In fact, I'm thankful for you telling me all of this. I know that we don't have numbers as large in our humble island, but it's better to be safe than sorry... What do I mean? Well, treating my leadership with more care, for starters."

[red-hot-kick]

Theory: Ryuji was popular, before.

I'm not entirely sure if anyone has really talked about this but I maintain my interpretation that, in the canon of Persona 5, Ryuji used to be very (or at least moderately) popular prior to the events of the story.

This is something I've gotten into before when talking to friends who like the game and the character, but I haven't really considered writing it down until now. The main argument I have is based on three things:

Things Ryuji alluded to in canon (but no one believed him on)

The deliberate choice of making him a track athlete

Typecasting for voice actors

1: "There were girls all over me!"

I don't really have the time to go on a deep dive through all the instances in which he hints at his reputation before the Kamoshida incident, but I think the most clear-cut representation of this was during the scene where he and Ann spend the day with Futaba during her post-palace social rehabilitation:

So here's the thing...I don't think he's lying about this. Nobody in the room would be that impressed to find out whether Ryuji was popular since they are already friends (or in Mona's case, he really just doesn't care), so it wouldn't make sense for him to lie.

Regarding everyone's reactions though, here's my impression: Ann was simply not aware of what was going on with the track team, being predominantly focused on dealing with rumors, her friendship with Shiho, and her modeling career (and eventually Kamoshida's advances once he started doing that shit) and she mentions a few times that she and Ryuji weren't actually close before joining the PT; they were just in the same class in middle school. Futaba hasn't interacted with anyone her age in years and isn't the most reliable source when it comes to what people generally find attractive; just because she doesn't have any interest in Ryuji doesn't mean that nobody her age would. And Morgana is a cat that brags constantly about how cool he is, so he shouldn't be throwing rocks.

There are many other times in the game when you get little glimpses of his social savvy, and from my understanding of Royal (I'm an OG vanilla P5 player and haven't done 3rd-semester yet, so don't kill me) when the track team returns to "how it was", he is getting along extremely well with everyone. Not only was he the team's ace: this kid was also expected to become the captain by his senior year (as briefly mentioned when he bumps into his former senpai at the gym, iirc). That's huge! If his team held him in such high regard, then the general student body of Shujin surely had a similar opinion. This brings me to my next point:

2: Girls like boys that run fast(???)

This is honestly something that baffles me. It's also really difficult for me to substantiate; any source material on this is obviously in Japanese and if I could find any of it, I sure as hell can't read it. The only English-language source I know of I cannot find anymore; I think it was an old Tofugu article? However. If you've watched any romance anime set in a high school during the last 20 years, you might have seen this trope at some point: the school sports festival is happening, and the relay race is kind of a huge deal (it's the final event! a make-or-break moment for the class!). The boy thinks to himself "If I win this race, I'll be able to win her heart/ask her out/etc." Low-stakes drama ensues. Maybe a confession happens.

This is (from what I've been told) based on a long-standing trend of girls and women self-reporting in surveys about how, oftentimes, their crushes in junior or senior high school were simply "the boy who ran the fastest in the races". I have no idea what this means in a broader cultural context. It makes no goddamn sense to me at all. Do not cite me on this. But I think it's worth keeping in mind, even if it's almost entirely speculative (and possibly outdated) information. And even if it's just based on rumors, don't you think it's pretty in-character for Ryuji to go for a track scholarship—despite being adept at other sports like baseball and football/soccer, as mentioned in P5 and P5D—because he was aware of the potential of being more popular with girls? Of course, his priority would be getting the scholarship and paying his way through school to lighten his mother's burden, but hey, getting a girlfriend on the way up wouldn't be half bad!

I think this could also inform us as to why Kamoshida (as a predator who wanted attention from high school girls) felt so threatened by the track team in particular, and why he felt a need to specifically knock Ryuji down a peg and sought out a weakness to do so (as opposed to targeting any of the probably just-as-popular boys on the many other athletic teams and clubs in the school). Just some food for thought on this one! Also, if anyone can find a source or has any insight on the relay race thing, please share. I am so confused about it.

3: Typecasting

So this is something that you really only notice if you are very into keeping up with seiyuu in Japan. I am not one of those people. But I do have some favorite voice actors! One of these being Mamoru Miyano.

So I freakin' love this dude. He's voiced a lot of my favorite characters, sings incredibly well, and has an unreal sense of comedy. He's stated in interviews that his acting inspiration is Jim Carrey, and let me tell you: it shows. He is also quite consistently typecast into certain roles, predominantly as princely pretty-boy types, Coolguys, or complete fucking nutcases. Sometimes all three at the same time (shoutout to my boy Ling FMA!)

ATLUS definitely cast him for P5 because of his comedic chops. But I think they also cast him because having him voice someone like Ryuji is a great way to subvert expectations for the player. I think it's supposed to give you whiplash—"what do you mean the voice of LIGHT FUCKING YAGAMI is coming out of this guy's mouth?" "why does the delinquent character sound like king of the host club Tamaki Suou?" "isn't that Rin Matsuoka's voice?" etc. etc. etc.

(here's a quick list, just to really get the idea across. maybe you recognize a few.)

This is obviously a non-comprehensive list, but something that a lot of the characters he's voiced over the years have in common is that they were considered cool, handsome, or popular. Not just for fans, but within the canon of their stories! So...what does that mean? What does that say about how we should see Ryuji?

I think players are supposed to expect that he will fall into one of those categories too, and then be surprised to find that it's not the case—that he's been isolated and made bitter and resigned by what happened to him the year before.

Speaking of his tone, I think it's very telling that Ryuji actually forgets to keep up the delinquent act a lot in the original JP audio, which unfortunately doesn't really carry over in the ENG translation. The delivery of his JP lines sounds a bit more subdued in comparison too—yeah he's got a lot of energy and is very hotheaded, but when he gets to talking about serious shit, he sounds a lot more regretful and melancholy as opposed to the EN delivery which depicts him as more resentful and outwardly angry. I think before Shit Went Down, he probably had the Coolguy vibe. Still a bit of a rowdy idiot and a showoff, but I think he probably came across to most people as a very friendly, sincere, and popular guy.

So yeah, the girls probably were all over him, at least for a short while.

[xocoluvr]

I know that in your masterlist it is written that you write in MK1, but can you pls use MK11? I beg you, I beg you!😣🙏🙏🥺 I really like the way you write!<3<3<3 You will make me a happy person ! If you can't do it on MK11, I understand. I respect your choice. <3

I really want to go with daddy young Johnny! I want to get a sexual overdose 🥵 and embarrassment! ////// (Okay, stop asking! Sorry if it's too much)

ʚThe theme for the fanfic is this: F!Reader makes hints that she is not indifferent to him. He looks at him for a long time, makes dirty jokes, looks for an opportunity and a reason to touch him, but respects his personal space. And when they are alone, she is wildly embarrassed by him, although she is a pervert.ɞ

Thank you in advance! You are just lovely 🥰 I'll be looking forward to it.

Surprise

| MK11 Young!Johnny Cage x flirty gn!reader

Word count: 2.2k

CW: 18+, smut, praise, penetrashunnn, thigh riding, dry humping, brief mention of fingering, no use of y/n, dirty talk.

a/n: THNX ILYSM !!!!! I should've been clearer on mk1/mk11 SRY. BUT YES MY GAWD \(`Д`)/ young mk11 johnny is so bbygirl the most bbygirlest eyes ever planted on a fictional man i swear (ง ื▿ ื)ว

edit: i did go back and change some stuff so this would be gn, just cuz :3)

sum: Seeing a younger version of your Johnny awoke something in you.

reblogging is very much appreciated! ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ

/ᐠ｡ ｡ᐟ\

Even after it was thoroughly explained to you, you couldn't get it through your head that there had been a weird 'glitch in the matrix' from some guy Raiden, making it so the younger version of your boss was now in your present timeline. Yeah, you found your present Johnny attractive but god was his younger self something else, his demeanor, his personality, you wondered how this Johnny turned out to be so mature.

Over time you got to know more about younger Johnny, he was always so friendly with the others you felt left out seeing him laugh it up with his older self. You wondered if you and Johnny could ever be like that together, he never sought out to have a friendship or showed any obvious interest in you. After a speech to yourself in the mirror, you decided to suck it up and walk up beside him as he sat on a chair with his legs wide open, lord the intrusive thoughts were really beginning to get to you.

As you sat down with a smile, you introduced yourself formally and finally started a small conversation about what younger Johnny thought about himself in the future. "I seriously can't believe I turned out so... Boring. It's like I lost all my 'Johnny'." He says looking over at himself, who is doing regular work and clicking away at a computer. You chuckled, suddenly everything Johnny said was so hilarious? Not thinking about what you were doing, your hand flew right above his knee. Too distracted with laughing away at Johnny's joke, his eyes almost immediately fell to your hand, he had gone silent as he felt blood rush to his already forming erection. Finally hearing the sudden silence, you stopped and cleared your throat, quickly removing your hand seeing Johnny's pupils were blown out gazing at you. Choosing to ignore something that had clearly happened, you and Johnny continued on with your conversation.

A couple hours had gone by since your super awkward and gut-wrenching encounter with Johnny, and you couldn't stop thinking about how he had quickly gotten up after cutting your conversation short to rush to the bathroom. Maybe he was just so turned off by your comfort around him that he didn't want to be near you, you had to stop overthinking about every little tiny detail. Turning away from the work you weren't doing, you turned to see if Johnny was still around. He was standing by the table with his arms crossed, analyzing a map, 'God his arms look so good' you thought, your eyes were definitely lingering in areas they shouldn't. You were getting lost in him as you wondered what his arms would look like wrapped around you, maybe in a hug, perhaps wrapped around your neck as he went at you from behind... You were caught off guard when you heard Johnny call out your name, not only sending shivers down your spine but making you worried he had caught you in your perverted thoughts.

"Would you mind helping me over here? I need a second opinion on this." You almost jumped out of your seat hearing he wanted your opinion. You walked over to Johnny trying to act as nonchalant as possible, your hand rested on the table as you leaned on it with him towering over you. "What's up? Have your eyes finally started to fail you?" You joked, as you said it you saw older Johnny glare at you, reminding you that he was still there. Younger Johnny smiled and chuckled, you were so close you could almost feel the bass in his chest when he laughed. "Hah, no I actually just needed your opinion on this plan I made, apparently Johnny over there doesn't know how to attack in style." He stepped back a little to give you room to look over his plan on the table, he kept a close distance as he observed your facial expressions and reactions to his ideas. As you took up the space where he was, you couldn't get rid of the overwhelming feeling of his eyes on you. Knowing he was behind you, you repositioned yourself with your hands holding you up on the table. You just so happened to accidentally rub up against Johnny's crotch, causing his breath to hitch and raising his body temperature in milliseconds. Of course, you had to take the opportunity to be this intimate with him so you kept your hips where they were for just a good amount of time before deciding it was time to realize your mistake by standing up straight.

Turning around acting completely oblivious to the fact that you just made him so incredibly hard, you smiled and said “Yep, looks good.”. His lips were ever so slightly parted as he felt the life flush out of him at how much control you had over him. In this moment Johnny knew exactly what he had in mind for you, he had gotten the hint immediately and was already planning in his head the rest of the day. Johny stayed next to his older self for the entire workday, using himself as a prop to stay near you. As the day went on and more and more people were beginning to clock out and go home, the more you eventually forgot about what happened. All you thought about was how long it was gonna take for you to finish up reviewing a couple more documents, the part you dreaded the most was going to check the inventory of weaponry for the future mission older Johnny was putting together. You assumed everyone had already headed home since it was so quiet and dark. Making your way to the large building where everything was kept you held your clipboard ready to just skim over everything, you couldn’t help but think about how younger Johnny made you feel earlier in the day, butterflies were fluttering around your stomach as you daydreamt.

Unbeknownst to you, Johnny was just on the other side of the door, sitting on a crate waiting for you, was it crazy that Johnny asked his older self for your entire routine? Possibly, but it was going to be worth it. He waited for you to open the door and be greeted with him sitting on a crate in a poorly lit cold room. Your heart sank, seeing Johnny after work hours was definitely different than seeing him around other people, other people to be more extroverted with.

"Oh! Johnny? What are you doing?" You had a look of genuine concern on your face, your brows were furrowed while his were relaxed, it's like he didn't see the total confusion and awkwardness in the situation. He stood from his carefree position and made his way to you. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" His voice sounded a bit more serious than normal, he sounded like his more mature self which got you a bit nervous. Your palms were moistening up the closer he approached. You took a half step back as he got closer.

He had a smirk plastered on his face. Your steps were soon stopped after you felt the back of your knees hit a crate, allowing Johnny to get close enough to feel your uneven breath on his cheek. "What?" You replied in a soft whisper, you were pressed up so close to him. You could feel his hands make their way to your waist, trapping you to him. Your face started feeling hot as you began to think back to your thoughts earlier in the day, thinking about this exact situation versus living it at the moment felt strange. "The way you look at me.." As you turned your face to the side to conceal your embarrassment, he inhaled sharply into your neck, basking in your scent that sent a bolt of arousal to his growing erection. He pressed his chest against yours and snaked his hand up to your face from your waist to cup your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. "Don't get all shy now, you wanted this, didn't you? I could tell..." Through your shame, you couldn't help but get wet hearing his words. You clenched your thighs together hoping he wouldn't notice how turned on you were from this.

To your dismay, Johnny did notice and smirked looking down at your eagerness, he couldn't help but tease you by using his knee to spread apart your legs, stopping you from getting any kind of relief. You whimpered quietly at the loss. Hearing you solicited him to capture your lips in his, his lips felt so soft against yours, it's as if they were made to be connected to yours. He slipped his tongue into your mouth searching for more sounds while his hand on your waist crept up under your shirt to cup your breast, occasionally teasing your nipple. You mewled weakly into his mouth while clenching your thighs around his knee, you pulled away from the kiss to tilt your head back in pure bliss from the stimulation. He grinned and pushed his knee further into your core letting you get off on it. You soon came on his thigh with a whiny moan, and your hand reached out to grasp his wrist.

"I know baby, I know.." He muttered quietly, he gently pulled your hand away from his wrist and hooked his fingers on the bottom hem of your shirt, slipping it off smoothly. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he observed your breasts carefully like he was trying to engrave the image into his memory. You felt a little self-conscious from his gaze, so you covered your chest with your hand. Seeing your facial expression turn a little uncomfortable, he took your hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly before bringing your face closer, and giving your lips the same treatment.

Your tongue slipped into his mouth once more, forgetting why you were even feeling self-conscious. As both your tongues danced together in sync, you could feel his hands slowly make their way to the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling them down and off. He was getting so turned on by the sight of your panties that he couldn't resist but pull you closer by the hips to rub himself on you. A guttural groan squeezed out of his throat as he felt himself get harder through his pants which he was aching to get out of. By the time you were about to protest that you needed more pleasure, he had already pulled his boxers off along with his pants. He smirked at the way your eyebrows raised a bit looking at his pre-cum leaking cock.

You reached down and gave him a few pumps before lining him up with your entrance, you whimpered quietly as you rubbed his tip on your sensitive bundle of nerves, while collecting your wetness and putting him back at your entrance. Johnny kept you from falling back by putting his right hand on the small of your back, and slowly pulling himself into you. You clenched your jaw as he inched himself further in, the stretch his cock gave you was filled with pleasure and good pain, "Oh Fuck- You're so- Mmh." He struggled to continue, needing to stop and hold before he came too early. Your walls squeezed him in more, causing him to groan again, you could feel his cock twitch and throb in you which only made you squeeze him even more.

"I need you to- Mmh- To relax-." He used his left hand to rub your thigh attempting to soothe you a bit. You let out a satisfied sigh when you finally felt him roll his hips out at a slow pace, still adjusting. As he got used to your tightness, he went at a swift pace. The sounds of skin slapping and the crate bumping against the wall filled the room. Johnny couldn't hold back the quiet grunts that slipped from his mouth every time he thrust in you. You felt so at ease with him in you, that your head lolled back, allowing him to plant his lips on your neck and leave deep-tinted hickeys that would undoubtedly be questioned the next day. He got put in such a trance that he was starting to feel numb, his mind going into such a haze that he without warning, grabbed you by the hips and flipped you so you'd be bent over the crate.

"Fuck- Sorry-" he murmured before plunging back into your dripping hole. Although his roughness was a bit new to you, you weren't complaining. His hand found a place on your lower back again to hold you in place, his brutal pace was surely going to leave you sore. You felt yourself reaching your second orgasm while Johnny continued slamming into you over and over again, he felt you squeeze him tighter giving him the sense that you were close. He reached for your sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbed at a fast pace, matching his thrusts. The added stimulation was only making you scream-moan louder, you could feel tears threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes. Your moans were cut to a gasp as you came, He followed soon after as the rhythmic squeezes you were giving his cock made him moan and slightly whine. You felt the ropes of his cum painting your walls, and slowly start to drip out when he pulled out with a pleased sigh. He plunged his fingers into you once more making sure to not waste any of his seed, the unexpected feeling leaving you to whimper quietly. "Next time, don't tease me like that."

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Beast

Day 29- part 2. Doe x Halsin. Inspired by @starrforge!

She was diminutive in his arms, cradled against his muscular chest. He reclined against her couch, looking at once at home and comically too big for the modest space.

'People told me to stay away from you,' she said.

'Oh?' His voice held mild interest, but something in the air between them changed; a spark in his eye, perhaps. Something wild. 'And why might that be, my heart?'

'I think they just wanted you for themselves,' she said. 'Though I suspect something else.'

His hand tightened on her waist. 'Tell me your theories. I'm fascinated to know.'

'I reckon you're something of a beast, really. It's always the gentle ones you have to watch out for. And you're so big...'

His eyes flashed. 'You're toying with me, precious heart. That is... unwise.'

'Oh yeah?' She smirked. 'And why's that...?'

'Because I am,' he growled. With a cold jolt, she noticed for the first time how his teeth were too sharp, his nails a little too pointed as they dug into her soft skin, his eyes a little too hungry...

'You wouldn't hurt me though,' she said.

'No.' His voice was emphatic. 'No, never. But I can always spare a little punishment. There are consequences to goading the bear, Doe.'

'Okay, but consider,' she said, scrambling hurriedly off his chest and to her feet, 'that I was just kidding?'

'I wasn't,' he said smirking. 'Alright then, little one. Say you're joking. I know you're the curious sort. Surely you want to know...'

Shit. Got me there.

'...Maybe.'

'Alright. Then come here.'

She bit her lip. He planted his feet on the floor, rose and took a prowling step forward.

Fuck he's hot. And huge. And hot. Fuck.

'Losing your nerve, little bunny?'

'No.' A flare of indignation rose in her, her dark eyes defiant. 'I can take you.'

I shouldn't have said that.

'Hah! I'm sure you can. But you'll need to prove it, I fear.' He took another step. His frame was enormous in her pokey living room, his head nearly brushing the ceiling. His hands were open, extended towards her. No threat, but a thrill.

'I think I want you to fuck me stupid,' she said. Gasping, she clapped her hands over her mouth. 'Oh gods. That should have stayed a thought. Shit, sorry. Fuck.'

He laughed, shook the whole room with it, fixed her with an amused look. 'I'm willing if you are.'

'You- what?'

'If you want to cross the line of friendship, I admit I'm only too willing.'

Precious heart really should have been a clue.

'Oh.'

'C'mere to me.'

A trap. A trap! 'No. You first.'

'Well, if you want to play...' Halsin caught her around the waist, lifting her off her feet. 'I hope you're prepared.'

'Not remotely,' she squeaked.

'I can stop if-'

'No, don't you dare. Consider this enthusiastic consent.'

'Hmmm.' He brought her to him, kissed her soundly and pulled back to watch her heave in air. 'Beautiful thing.' He set her down. 'Hands and knees in front of the mirror, love.'

She obeyed wordlessly. Thought about how anyone else would've gotten a snarky quip. He all but tore the clothes off her and she yelped in surprise, hands curling into the rug. And then he was naked too, advancing in the mirror. He grabbed her hip in one hand, pulled her head back to kiss her with the other, his too-sharp teeth dragging on her bottom lip. His hand stroked her flank, grabbed her other hip, and then he was easing into her, swallowing her whimpers as he stretched her deliciously-

'Fuck-' she gasped, grinding back against him, watching him in the mirror. He engulfed her in his bulk, his chest pressed to her back, drove into her none too gently- wild, this one.

Feral.

He wound her hair in his fist, fucked into her with such strength she almost buckled; he held her up, a hand splayed across her ample stomach, sliding down to roll his fingers gently on her clit, sending her crashing into orgasm- she screamed his name and he growled in approval, biting down on her shoulder as he chased his own release. He held her in his teeth, his hips snapping forward. The roar that ripped from him made her shiver as he came, sucking bruising marks into her neck as he filled her, watched with animal satisfaction as her eyes closed briefly in bliss, pulling out slowly. He shot her a wicked look, gathered the spill of his release from her thighs, pushed past her lips and over her tongue.

'Suck.'

She groaned around his fingers, tasting him. She found herself lifted into his arms, once again cradled against his chest.

'Holy shit,' she said. 'That-'

'Was simply a prelude,' he said, growling against her neck.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @12thhouse-sun

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

@femmefuck @spooky-lil-bee

[born-of-flames]

Entry One...

(lots of trigger warnings: Knives, CNC, Dark Themes)

She has no idea what she has gotten herself into, she was told to meet me in the parking lot of the local state park at sunset.

Once she arrived, alone, no other car visible, I could see her look at her phone, there no signal out this far in the woods and she should have known better to not let the voices telling her this was a bad idea not to come out here.

*Ring Ring... Ring Ring...*

A phone placed on the sign board where the trail is marked. A letter, fastened to the post with a hunting knife sunken deeply inside the wooden pole.

"Look at the map, the destination is marked and your trail set out. I'll meet you once you arrive."

P.S.

"You look stunning little lamb, wearing that little white dress I picked out for you."

She looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of me, she didn't think I'd let her see me just yet?

She could have gotten back into her car and driven away, yet she looked at the map, holding her hand over her mouth with eyes wider than ever when she realised what she was looking at.

There on that old faded map, a bloody "X" marking the end of the trail and a dotted line of smaller droplets of still fresh blood marking out the route.

Looking back at what I witnessed, you could tell she was considering leaving, staring at her car and yet. She advanced.

"Time to get in position."

She didn't take long to get to her destination, through the winding trail, every so often noticing the bloody handprints on trail markers. Her heart racing as the sunlight faded and lit up the sky high above the sparse canopy of summer leaves with pinks, oranges and reds.

Her destination...

A clearing, small braziers arranged in the shape of a pentagram. White woodash laid in neat lines between them and in a circle.

In the middle of it all, a stone alter atop a tree stump adorned with black and red candles.

She should have left, she shouldn't have come this far, and yet, her curiosity, everything I had told her, made her trust me, made her venture out despite the pounding in her ears and the boiling of her blood.

A voice from the shadows, like a chilling gust of wind that left her petrified.

"Welcome My little lamb, you have been chosen, you have been lead to this place for your true purpose. Don't be affraid. Be still, fear is only going to make this hurt more than it needs to."

She shouldn't have run. Yet, everything she knew and felt told her to take off back down the trail, what a grave, foolish and reckless mistake that was.

I knew she would run, after all, who in their right mind wouldn't?

What she was met with sent her shuffling back into the dirt and hastely turning to try and claw her way back to her feet after stumbling backwards.

There I was, wearing a suite, ripped sleeves, torn button down dress shirt with blood stains down the front and a mask made from leather, bone and antlers. Only my wild, demonic eyes and the slightest sliver of my blood mottled lips visible.

Reaching out towards her with the tip of the hunting knife, the one with the unforgettable stag horn handle which she so foolishly left behind that held the note to the post.

"Where do you think you're going MY little lamb?"

[greyspirehollow]

We lock eyes again [Request]

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x Reader

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : none

Summary : You do not remember how long it took you to finally find a suitable host for your soul, and go on a quest to find your long lost anchor to the mortal world ; the one who your thoughts inevitably converged towards, stubbornly holding you back from crossing the threshold of the afterlife.

It had been centuries. It had been too long. You'd lived many ages : through the eyes of the salmon, deer, and wolf. You would see it in your dreams ; the time you spent in limbo, waiting, patiently...Although, when you awoke, these dreams didn't make sense anymore ; only leaving behind a lingering sense of longing, a feeling that you had to find... What did you have to find? You couldn't put your finger on it...

You sighed, sitting up in your bed and stretching. Another one of those dreams... But you didn't have time to reflect upon them, today. Asra wanted to introduce you to the court of Vesuvia, as a sort of starting point to your journey as a magician's apprentice. You feel as if you've done this before. You got up, yawning, and rummaging through your wardrobe to find something decent to wear. Once you had your outfit all sorted, you decided to add a twinkle of jewelry, just to make it all a little less dull. You had heard about this kingdom's history : struck by a terrible plague that had decimated thousands, sacrifices, memory loss... It was all a bit confusing, so you had only paid attention to the plague bit. Asra eventually knocked on your door "Are you ready?" ; you quickly adjusted your attire before hurrying out of your room "yes! I... Do I look ok? is it not... a little too much?" the magician smiled, looking at you fondly "you look perfect. Now, let's go ; we shouldn't keep the Countess waiting." You followed, walking through the sunlit and busy streets of the kingdom, looking around with delight. You had not left the shop much when you had gotten here, and the lively markets, the colors, and the people actually did you some good (to your surprise).

Your eyes widened slightly as you and your master arrived at the Palace's gates ; you looked up at the shiny architecture with sparkles in your eyes. What snapped you out of it was the voice of the guards demanding you introduce yourselves. Luckily, the Countess had seemingly told them about you and Asra's arrival, as the guards let you pass after having heard the magician's name. You then advanced past the gates, still awestruck. You felt as if the sun was illuminating the Palace in a magical hue, and the more you approached, the faster your heart thumped in your chest. It wasn't just the Palace's glory : you had a feeling. Something that made you apprehensive yet eager to go inside. You felt as if you knew something, but at the same time it was missing ; you had to go in the Palace, but you couldn't figure out why ; it tugged at your heart, pumping adrenaline into your veins, as if strings were drawing you towards the place... However, you kept this to yourself, and quietly followed Asra as you both made your way towards the throne room. Now that you thought about it, you didn't see anyone guide you towards there, and you suspected Asra had come to the Palace before.

However, no one was sitting on the throne. You raised a curious eyebrow, but before you could utter a word, your master uttered a little "ooh" of realization, before saying : "She must be in the drawing room. I wouldn't be surprised if she wished to introduce you to the courtiers as well." You nodded. That made some sense ; even though you were slightly disappointed : you would've loved to meet the Countess in a more private setting. You followed Asra nonetheless. A few turns later, you both found yourselves in said drawing room. The Countess was elegantly sitting in a one-person sofa, while she conversed with five figures, which the diversity of... Struck you, to say the least. Despite your unease, you followed Asra inside, as the magician bowed to the woman whose purple hair draped over her shoulders with shocking delicacy. "Countess Nadia" ; you bowed as well. She smiled "Ah, Asra. And you are..?" she asked, looking at you with a soft yet undeniably authoritative gaze. You managed to stutter out your name, giving her a short bow of the head. "I am glad you two were able to join us for tea. Please, be my guests ; make yourselves comfortable. I will have a cup made for you this instant. Portia?" She called out to a servant, whispering to her something before the young lady hurried out the drawing room, to presumably go fetch the tea.

It is then that Countess Nadia gestured to the other people in the drawing room. So they were the courtiers, you thought, as she went over each of them, your gaze following accordingly. Procurator Volta. Consul Valerius. Praetor Vlastomil. Pontifex Vulgora. Quaestor-

You let out a soft gasp ; no one heard you. Your eyes widened as they locked with their red own. Suddenly, everything made sense. This is why you were here. This is who you had been seeking. The dreams connected themselves, perfectly falling into place at this exact moment. You remembered it all now, the limbo, your adventures from body to body, your struggle and ghostly tears, the longing, the waiting, all that for this person right there, sitting on this sofa amongst the others...

Valdemar.

They looked surprised as well, their eyes never leaving your own, as they seemed to be deep in thought. The conversation around you faded, your whole attention focused onto them. The memory flooded back in your mind, nearly playing out in front of you...

The little cottage. The lingering scent of herbs and wood in the air. The shelves with dried plants, stuffed birds and other animals, skulls they had found on their trips to the forest... And Valdemar themselves. They excitedly opened their journal on the desk, signing you to sit next to them enthusiastically. "Here ! -they said- I've found something ! I think you're going to like it..." You smiled and chuckled. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you managed to capture a frog" They snorted at your reply "I'm past that. No, look... I've managed to make an antidote with snake venom ! I just diluted it, added some... ah, I forgot the plant's name- it's all in my notes, look" they were smiling widely as you approached, standing mere millimeters away from them, your hand brushing against theirs as you flipped through their research journal. It smelled peculiar, it always did : a mix of something like oak and leather, with a hint of vegetation. "It's impressive..." you nodded as your eyes squinted slightly, having a hard time reading certain words because of their highly cursive and optimized handwriting. Valdemar looked at you expectantly. "It is brilliant" you finally said, looking back at them. Your heart skipped a bit at that precious smile of theirs, which pushed their freckles-adorned cheeks. Oh, how you'd kill to pamper those in kisses... "why, I'm quite proud of myself" they said, looking back at the pages. However, their grin faltered slightly "...but what if... what if all this disappears? what then?" your heart ached slightly. You knew how important their researches and breakthroughs were to them. You didn't resist this time : you wrapped their arms around them "do not fret. Your knowledge will not be lost." you spoke softly, hoping to soothe their worries, even temporarily. "...You're right... It and I will live on forever..." They say after a few beats of silence, embracing you back. You smiled, content to see them somewhat reassured.

With that, the memory faded. Your throat tightened and you had to excuse yourself. Your eyes hadn't left Valdemar's for all this time. You made your way to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it. You took in a quivering breath, the tears coming to your eyes despite your best attempts at holding them back. Tears of joy...

After a while, someone softly knocked on the door, but before you could get a chance to answer, the door opened, revealing the Quaestor. They stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind them without a sound, and pulling down their mask. As they set eyes on you, their expression softened somewhat. You sniffled, quickly wiping your tears away. You were about to say something, but suddenly stopped yourself. No. You didn't need to talk.

You looked at them... They had changed... You were unfamiliar with this lab-coat, those supposed horns wrapped in bandages, and this sickly green skin... But you'd recognize that thin nose and those thin lips, those freckles and those wide, curious eyes, even if they had turned red, anywhere. You had to bite back both your tears and a smile, as you felt them examine you. They took a step or two towards you and carefully lifted your hands into their own, as if to take a closer look at them. They were... Confused. And a foreign feeling tugged at their heart. They didn't know what it was. They just knew it was... Human. Which only confused them further. Scared them, even, although they wouldn't admit it.

Your eyes.

Your soft hands ; their thumb brushed onto the back of them.

Why do you feel so familiar?

This specific accent they heard when you greeted the Countess earlier.

Your warmth.

It's all so familiar...

Who are you?

Why can't they remember?

They remember someone, they can't say who. They remember them like an essence. A feeling. Nothing concrete. They don't remember their face or their voice but they know how they felt around them. They know they talked to them, even if they don't remember the words they said. It's all blurry. It feels like a dream...

Had it been too long? Did their deals make them forget? Why did you trigger their pseudo-memories of that someone?

They don't remember...

Their brows furrowed as despite their best attempts, the answer just wouldn't come back to them. Their grip on your hands tightened slightly.

But you do. You remember now. You can't help a soft smile from tugging at your lips as you look at them fondly. They haven't changed one bit... Factually, they did. But to you ? They were still the same. Deep down, they were still your sweet alchemist. You had missed their voice... You had changed as well, beyond recognition. You were aware of that. Those tedious years you spent in limbo had carried you into body after body, having to live as a wild animal once or twice as to not disappear... You wouldn't tell. Even if your soul was the same. They would either recognize you, or they wouldn't, and you were perfectly fine with both. Your alchemist... They were there, in the flesh. You had to hold back your tears of joy, yet again.

Valdemar sighed, briefly closing their eyes. "...I do not know who you are -they started-, nor do I know where you come from" your heart tickled in your ribs. They locked eyes with you again. "... But I feel as if I am happy to see you again". You nearly lost it, briefly closing your eyes and tilting your head down as to not burst in tears "strange, -you started- I feel the same about you" you chuckled. "Maybe... Forces we don't know of are into play?" you looked back up at them. They didn't seem to like that idea too much "I hope not... I would rather know who is playing with me like that" their tone held nothing negative. You couldn't help but chuckle again "w-well..." you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice from shaking too much "Whether it is planned or... conducted by something in some way... I don't think this is too bad, eh?" you tentatively asked. They seemed to turn the thought into their head, their red eyes briefly flickering to your hands.

"...I suppose not."

You nodded, fighting for your life tears to not roll down your cheeks. You knew it made you look somewhat suspicious, but if they'd noticed, they didn't comment on it.

"...Say, -they spoke once more- what do you think after... the end of your meeting with the Countess, we spend some time in the library? I feel as if... We have... uhm... Something to catch up on." oh Gods, they absolutely hated when things were blurry and inexplicable. You nodded, practically beaming "I-I would love to." you said, once more looking at your hands in their own.

You both exited the bathroom, hand in hand. You softly let go once you had come back around the drawing room, and Valdemar did the same. However, they sat down next to you. While you joined the conversation between Nadia and Asra, their eyes never left your hand resting on the sofa, withing reach, and once more endless questions tossed and turned in their head... But it looks like the mystery of you was going to stay unsolved...