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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 years ago

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“Elliot Page doesn’t remember exactly how long he had been asking.

But he does remember the acute feeling of triumph when, around age 9, he was finally allowed to cut his hair short. “I felt like a boy,” Page says. “I wanted to be a boy. I would ask my mom if I could be someday.” Growing up in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Page visualized himself as a boy in imaginary games, freed from the discomfort of how other people saw him: as a girl. After the haircut, strangers finally started perceiving him the way he saw himself, and it felt both right and exciting.

The joy was short-lived. Months later, Page got his first break, landing a part as a daughter in a Canadian mining family in the TV movie Pit Pony. He wore a wig for the film, and when Pit Pony became a TV show, he grew his hair out again. “I became a professional actor at the age of 10,” Page says. And pursuing that passion came with a difficult compromise. “Of course I had to look a certain way.”

We are speaking in late February. It is the first interview Page, 34, has given since disclosing in December that he is transgender, in a heartfelt letter posted to Instagram, and he is crying before I have even uttered a question. “Sorry, I’m going to be emotional, but that’s cool, right?” he says, smiling through his tears.

It’s hard for him to talk about the days that led up to that disclosure. When I ask how he was feeling, he looks away, his neck exposed by a new short haircut. After a pause, he presses his hand to his heart and closes his eyes. “This feeling of true excitement and deep gratitude to have made it to this point in my life,” he says, “mixed with a lot of fear and anxiety.”

It’s not hard to understand why a trans person would be dealing with conflicting feelings in this moment. Increased social acceptance has led to more young people describing themselves as trans—1.8% of Gen Z compared with 0.2% of boomers, according to a recent Gallup poll—yet this has fueled conservatives who are stoking fears about a “transgender craze.” President Joe Biden has restored the right of transgender military members to serve openly, and in Hollywood, trans people have never had more meaningful time onscreen. Meanwhile, J.K. Rowling is leveraging her cultural capital to oppose transgender equality in the name of feminism, and lawmakers are arguing in the halls of Congress over the validity of gender identities. “Sex has become a political football in the culture wars,” says Chase Strangio, deputy director for transgender justice at the ACLU.

(Full article with photos continued under the “read more”)

And so Page—who charmed America as a precocious pregnant teenager in Juno, constructed dreamscapes in Inception and now stars in Netflix’s hit superhero show The Umbrella Academy, the third season of which he’s filming in Toronto—expected that his news would be met with both applause and vitriol. “What I was anticipating was a lot of support and love and a massive amount of hatred and transphobia,” says Page. “That’s essentially what happened.” What he did not anticipate was just how big this story would be. Page’s announcement, which made him one of the most famous out trans people in the world, started trending on Twitter in more than 20 countries. He gained more than 400,000 new followers on Instagram on that day alone. Thousands of articles were published. Likes and shares reached the millions. Right-wing podcasters readied their rhetoric about “women in men’s locker rooms.” Casting directors reached out to Page’s manager saying it would be an honor to cast Page in their next big movie.

So, it was a lot. Over the course of two conversations, Page will say that understanding himself in all the specifics remains a work in progress. Fathoming one’s gender, an identity innate and performed, personal and social, fixed and evolving, is complicated enough without being under a spotlight that never seems to turn off. But having arrived at a critical juncture, Page feels a deep sense of responsibility to share his truth. “Extremely influential people are spreading these myths and damaging rhetoric—every day you’re seeing our existence debated,” Page says. “Transgender people are so very real.”

That role in Pit Pony led to other productions and eventually, when Page was 16, to a film called Mouth to Mouth. Playing a young anarchist, Page had a chance to cut his hair again. This time, he shaved it off completely. The kids at his high school teased him, but in photos he has posted from that time on social media he looks at ease. Page’s head was still shaved when he mailed in an audition tape for the 2005 thriller Hard Candy. The people in charge of casting asked him to audition again in a wig. Soon, the hair was back.

Page’s tour de force performance in Hard Candy led, two years later, to Juno, a low-budget indie film that brought Page Oscar, BAFTA and Golden Globe nominations and sudden megafame. The actor, then 21, struggled with the stresses of that ascension. The endless primping, red carpets and magazine spreads were all agonizing reminders of the disconnect between how the world saw Page and who he knew himself to be. “I just never recognized myself,” Page says. “For a long time I could not even look at a photo of myself.” It was difficult to watch the movies too, especially ones in which he played more feminine roles.

Page loved making movies, but he also felt alienated by Hollywood and its standards. Alia Shawkat, a close friend and co-star in 2009’s Whip It,describes all the attention from Juno as scarring. “He had a really hard time with the press and expectations,” Shawkat says. “‘Put this on! And look this way! And this is sexy!’”

By the time he appeared in blockbusters like X-Men: The Last Stand and Inception, Page was suffering from depression, anxiety and panic attacks. He didn’t know, he says, “how to explain to people that even though [I was] an actor, just putting on a T-shirt cut for a woman would make me so unwell.” Shawkat recalls Page’s struggles with clothes. “I’d be like, ‘Hey, look at all these nice outfits you’re getting,’ and he would say, ‘It’s not me. It feels like a costume,’” she says. Page tried to convince himself that he was fine, that someone who was fortunate enough to have made it shouldn’t have complaints. But he felt exhausted by the work required to “just exist,” and thought more than once about quitting acting.

In 2014, Page came out as gay, despite feeling for years that “being out was impossible” given his career. (Gender identity and sexual orientation are, of course, distinct, but one queer identity can coexist with another.) In an emotional speech at a Human Rights Campaign conference, Page talked about being part of an industry “that places crushing standards” on actors and viewers alike. “There are pervasive stereotypes about masculinity and femininity that define how we’re all supposed to act, dress and speak,” Page went on. “And they serve no one.”

The actor started wearing suits on the red carpet. He found love, marrying choreographer Emma Portner in 2018. He asserted more agency in his career, producing his own films with LGBTQ leads like Freeheld and My Days of Mercy. And he made a masculine wardrobe a condition of taking roles. Yet the daily discord was becoming unbearable. “The difference in how I felt before coming out as gay to after was massive,” says Page. “But did the discomfort in my body ever go away? No, no, no, no.”

In part, it was the isolation forced by the pandemic that brought to a head Page’s wrestling with gender. (Page and Portner separated last summer, and the two divorced in early 2021. “We’ve remained close friends,” Page says.) “I had a lot of time on my own to really focus on things that I think, in so many ways, unconsciously, I was avoiding,” he says. He was inspired by trailblazing trans icons like Janet Mock and Laverne Cox, who found success in Hollywood while living authentically. Trans writers helped him understand his feelings; Page saw himself reflected in P. Carl’s memoir Becoming a Man. Eventually “shame and discomfort” gave way to revelation. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” Page says, “and letting myself fully become who I am.”

This led to a series of decisions. One was asking the world to call him by a different name, Elliot, which he says he’s always liked. Page has a tattoo that says E.P. PHONE HOME, a reference to a movie about a young boy with that name. “I loved E.T. when I was a kid and always wanted to look like the boys in the movies, right?” he says. The other decision was to use different pronouns—for the record, both he/him and they/them are fine. (When I ask if he has a preference on pronouns for the purposes of this story, Page says, “He/him is great.”)

A day before we first speak, Page will talk to his mom about this interview and she will tell him, “I’m just so proud of my son.” He grows emotional relating this and tries to explain that his mom, the daughter of a minister, who was born in the 1950s, was always trying to do what she thought was best for her child, even if that meant encouraging young Page to act like a girl. “She wants me to be who I am and supports me fully,” Page says. “It is a testament to how people really change.”

Another decision was to get top surgery. Page volunteers this information early in our conversation; at the time he posted his disclosure on Instagram, he was recovering in Toronto. Like many trans people, Page emphasizes being trans isn’t all about surgery. For some people, it’s unnecessary. For others, it’s unaffordable. For the wider world, the media’s focus on it has sensationalized transgender bodies, inviting invasive and inappropriate questions. But Page describes surgery as something that, for him, has made it possible to finally recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, providing catharsis he’s been waiting for since the “total hell” of puberty. “It has completely transformed my life,” he says. So much of his energy was spent on being uncomfortable in his body, he says. Now he has that energy back.

For the transgender community at large, visibility does not automatically lead to acceptance. Around the globe, transgender people deal disproportionately with violence and discrimination. Anti-trans hate crimes are on the rise in the U.K. along with increasingly transphobic rhetoric in newspapers and tabloids. In the U.S., in addition to the perennial challenges trans people face with issues like poverty and homelessness, a flurry of bills in state legislatures would make it a crime to provide transition-related medical care to trans youth. And crass old jokes are still in circulation. When Biden lifted the ban on open service for transgender troops, Saturday Night Live’s Michael Che did a bit on Weekend Update about the policy being called “don’t ask, don’t tuck.”

Page says coming out as trans was “selfish” on one level: “It’s for me. I want to live and be who I am.” But he also felt a moral imperative to do so, given the times. Human identity is complicated and mysterious, but politics insists on fitting everything into boxes. In today’s culture wars, simplistic beliefs about gender—e.g., chromosomes = destiny—are so widespread and so deep-seated that many people who hold those beliefs don’t feel compelled to consider whether they might be incomplete or prejudiced. On Feb. 24, after a passionate debate on legislation that would ban discrimination against LGBTQ people, Representative Marie Newman, an Illinois Democrat, proudly displayed the pride flag in support of her daughter, who is trans. Representative Marjorie Taylor Greene, a Georgia Republican, responded by hanging a poster outside her office that read: There are TWO genders: MALE & FEMALE.

The next day Dr. Rachel Levine, who stands to become the first openly transgender federal official confirmed by the Senate, endured a tirade from Senator Rand Paul about “genital mutilation” during her confirmation hearing. My second conversation with Page happens shortly after this. He brings it up almost immediately, and seems both heartbroken and determined. He wants to emphasize that top surgery, for him, was “not only life-changing but lifesaving.” He implores people to educate themselves about trans lives, to learn how crucial medical care can be, to understand that lack of access to it is one of the many reasons that an estimated 41% of transgender people have attempted suicide, according to one survey.

Page has been in the political trenches for a while, having leaned into progressive activism after coming out as queer in 2014. For two seasons, he and best friend Ian Daniel filmed Gaycation, a Viceland series that explored LGBTQ culture around the world and, at one point, showed Page grilling Senator Ted Cruz at the Iowa State Fair about discrimination against queer people. In 2019, Page made a documentary called There’s Something in the Water, which explores environmental hardships experienced by communities of color in Nova Scotia, with $350,000 of his own money. That activism extends to his own industry: in 2017, he published a Facebook post that, among other things, accused director Brett Ratner of forcibly outing him as gay on the set of an X-Men movie. (A representative for Ratner did not respond to a request for comment.)

As a trans person who is white, wealthy and famous, Page has a unique kind of privilege, and with it an opportunity to advocate for those with less. According to the U.S. Trans Survey, a large-scale report from 2015, transgender people of color are more likely to experience unemployment, harassment by police and refusals of medical care. Nearly half of all Black respondents reported being denied equal treatment, verbally harassed and/or physically attacked in the past year. Trans people as a group fare much worse on such stats than the general population. “My privilege has allowed me to have resources to get through and to be where I am today,” Page says, “and of course I want to use that privilege and platform to help in the ways I can.”

Since his disclosure, Page has been mostly quiet on social media. One exception has been to tweet on behalf of the ACLU, which is in the midst of fighting anti-trans bills and laws around the country, including those that ban transgender girls and women from participating in sports. Mississippi Governor Tate Reeves says he will sign such a bill in the name of “protect[ing] young girls.” Page played competitive soccer and vividly recalls the agony of being told he would have to play on the girls’ team once he aged out of mixed-gender squads. After an appeal, Page was allowed to play with the boys for an additional year. Today, several bills list genitalia as a requirement for deciding who plays on which team. “I would have been in that position as a kid,” Page says. “It’s horrific.”

All this advocacy is unlikely to make life easier. “You can’t enter into certain spaces as a public trans person,” says the ACLU’s Strangio, “without being prepared to spend some percentage of your life being threatened and harassed.” Yet, while he seems overwhelmed at times, Page is also eager. Many of the political attacks on trans people—whether it is a mandate that bathroom use be determined by birth sex, a blanket ban on medical interventions for trans kids or the suggestion that trans men are simply wayward women beguiled by male privilege—carry the same subtext: that trans people are mistaken about who they are. “We know who we are,” Page says. “People cling to these firm ideas [about gender] because it makes people feel safe. But if we could just celebrate all the wonderful complexities of people, the world would be such a better place.”

Even if Page weren’t vocal, his public presence would communicate something powerful. That is in part because of what Paisley Currah, a professor of political science at Brooklyn College, calls “visibility gaps.” Historically, trans women have been more visible, in culture and in Hollywood, than trans men. There are many explanations: Our culture is obsessed with femininity. Men’s bodies are less policed and scrutinized. Patriarchal people tend to get more emotional about who is considered to be in the same category as their daughters. “And a lot of trans men don’t stand out as trans,” says Currah, who is a trans man himself. “I think we’ve taken up less of the public’s attention because masculinity is sort of the norm.”

During our interviews, Page will repeatedly refer to himself as a “transgender guy.” He also calls himself nonbinary and queer, but for him, transmasculinity is at the center of the conversation right now. “It’s a complicated journey,” he says, “and an ongoing process.”

While the visibility gap means that trans men have been spared some of the hate endured by trans women, it has also meant that people like Page have had fewer models. “There were no examples,” Page says of growing up in Halifax in the 1990s. There are many queer people who have felt “that how they feel deep inside isn’t a real thing because they never saw it reflected back to them,” says Tiq Milan, an activist, author and transgender man. Page offers a reflection: “They can see that and say, ‘You know what, that’s who I am too,’” Milan says. When there aren’t examples, he says, “people make monsters of us.”

For decades, that was something Hollywood did. As detailed in the 2020 Netflix documentary Disclosure, transgender people have been portrayed onscreen as villainous and deceitful, tragic subplots or the butt of jokes. In a sign of just how far the industry has come—spurred on by productions like Pose and trailblazers like Mock—Netflix offered to change the credits on The Umbrella Academy the same day that its star posted his statement on social media. Now when an episode ends, the first words viewers see are “Elliot Page.”

Today, there are many out trans and nonbinary actors, directors and producers. Storylines involving trans people are more common, more respectful. Sometimes that aspect of identity is even incidental, rather than the crux of a morality tale. And yet Hollywood can still seem a frightening place for LGBTQ people to come out. “It’s an industry that says, ‘Don’t do that,’” says director Silas Howard, who got his break on Amazon’s show Transparent, which made efforts to hire transgender crew members. “I wouldn’t have been hired if they didn’t have a trans initiative,” Howard says. “I’m always aware of that.”

So what will it mean for Page’s career? While Page has appeared in many projects, he also faced challenges landing female leads because he didn’t fit Hollywood’s narrow mold. Since Page’s Instagram post, his team is seeing more activity than they have in years. Many of the offers coming in—to direct, to produce, to act—are trans-related, but there are also some “dude roles.”

Downtime in quarantine helped Page accept his gender identity. “I was finally able to embrace being transgender,” he says.

Page was attracted to the role of Vanya in The Umbrella Academy because—in the first season, released in 2019—Vanya is crushed by self-loathing, believing herself to be the only ordinary sibling in an extraordinary family. The character can barely summon the courage to move through the world. “I related to how much Vanya was closed off,” Page says. Now on set filming the third season, co-workers have seen a change in the actor. “It seems like there’s a tremendous weight off his shoulders, a feeling of comfort,” says showrunner Steve Blackman. “There’s a lightness, a lot more smiling.” For Page, returning to set has been validating, if awkward at times. Yes, people accidentally use the wrong pronouns—“It’s going to be an adjustment,” Page says—but co-workers also see and acknowledge him.

The debate over whether cisgender people, who have repeatedly collected awards for playing trans characters, should continue to do so has largely been settled. However, trans actors have rarely been considered for cisgender parts. Whatever challenges might lie ahead, Page seems exuberant about playing a new spectrum of roles. “I’m really excited to act, now that I’m fully who I am, in this body,” Page says. “No matter the challenges and difficult moments of this, nothing amounts to getting to feel how I feel now.”

This includes having short hair again. During our interview, Page keeps rearranging strands on his forehead. It took a long time for him to return to the barber’s chair and ask to cut it short, but he got there. And how did that haircut feel?

Page tears up again, then smiles. “I just could not have enjoyed it more,” he says.”

#suicide m #transphobia m #Elliot Page #transgender #representation #celebrities #actors #tv #movies #rep #trans #transmasculine #nonbinary #queer #long post

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integra1127grimmreaper · 2 years ago

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The One That Got Away - Part six

Negan Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 5

The next few days that pass, Negan decides to test the waters; brushing up against Y/N occasionally whenever they would cross paths. At first, they were a few subtle brushes against her ass with the back of his hand, next was his forearm 'accidentally' brushing over the top of her cleavage as he walked extremely close passed her.

"What's the deal between Coach and you?" Y/B/F/N asks after what seemed like the hundredth close brush up with Coach.

"What do you mean?"

"The two of you have been 'accidentally' bumping into each other a lot these days" Y/B/F/N remarks raising her fingers in the air to emphasize the word, accidentally. "The others might not have noticed but I have."

"We're both just clumsy, I guess" you try and brush it off. You weren't exactly sure yourself about what was happening between Coach and you. The first time it had happened, you took it to be accidental. Yet it had become more frequent thereafter, making you wonder whether he was purposely doing it.

"You would tell me if something was going on, right?"

"Of course, I would" you force the lie pass your lips with a faint smile. "You're my best-friend, I always tell you everything." Lies! Your mind screamed at you. Ok, so you didn't tell her about the eyelash incident. You knew she would never judge if something did happen, but you felt that whatever happened or was still to happen, should remain between Coach and you only. The less people knew about it, the better.

Deciding to test the theory about Coach, you dressed in the tightest, shortest pair of shorts to gym class the next day.

"My, my... aren't you looking extra fuckable today..." Y/B/F/N remarks with a low whistle.

"My regular gym clothes were in the dirty laundry still, this was the only thing to wear."

"Sure... if you say so..." Y/B/F/N drawls out, eyeing you closely. "You sure, you ain't wearing it to catch the eye of a certain someone?"

"Think whatever you like..." you respond with a bit of sass and Y/B/F/N chuckles out at your comment.

"C'mon, let's go give, Sir Hots-a-lot a heart attack."

Negan was busy deep in thought, going over the clipboard of paperwork in his hand, when the next class began filing into the room. A few seconds later, the sounds of whistling echoes loudly throughout the room.

Looking up to see what the source of the disturbance was, Negan is stunned speechless at the sight of Y/N in what was the tightest shorts he has ever seen on her. "Fuck. How the fuck am I supposed to keep my eyes and hands off her when she's fuckin' wearing that" he softy mutters to himself.

When calling the class to line up for the warmup stretches, Negan was a bit confused as to why Y/N was standing all the way in the backrow instead of her usual spot in the front.

Noticing that Coach was assisting those that weren't doing the warmup correcting, you decide to put your plan into action by deliberately messing up on your stretches.

"Jesus, not you fuckin' too" Coach curses out, stepping up behind you.

Placing a palm on your lower back, Coach gently pushes you further downward, resulting in your bottom being in close proximity to his crotch.

With a mischievous smirk, you abruptly thrust your bottom backward into Negan's crotch, causing him to stiffen in surprise and grab hold of your hips in order to regain his balance.

In an attempt to stifle a groan, Negan bites down into his lower lip as he scans the gym to see whether anyone had noticed what happened. Satisfied that no one had noticed, Negan decides to have a little fun with you.

When attempting to pull away after your little stunt, you're instantly halted by Coach tightening his grip on your hips. Risking a peek over your shoulder, you're met by a devilish smirk from him.

"I want y'all to close your eyes, taking in deep breaths while doing ya stretches until I tell ya otherwise" Coach breathlessly instructs, giving you a wink as he begins to grind himself hard into you.

Nervously scanning the room, you end up having to bite down hard into your lower lip in order to stifle the whimpers that were threatening to escape while Coach was dry humping you from behind.

Realizing the dangers of the huge risk he was taking, Negan stops what he was doing, stepping away from you then to grab the clipboard.

"Alright shitheads..." Coach clears his throat, "warmup's over, you can open your eyes now."

You stop the smirk from spreading across your face when noticing the clipboard that Coach was holding in front of his crotch area.

The next few days turns into a game of cat and mouse between Coach and you, the touching becoming more frequent each day. The only problem being that neither of you get a chance to be alone together during it, either one or the other ending up too busy to attend the after-school meetings.

The week following thereafter was a totally different story though, Negan's attitude toward you had suddenly turned cold, bordering on the point of being straight out mean towards you during certain occasions.

After the third day of Negan's cold demeanour toward you, you decided to return the favour and completely ignore him to the point of pretending he didn't even exist.

What you didn't know, was that Negan was fighting an internal turmoil that was threating to burst out of him at any moment. Things between Lucille and him were extremely tense after Negan had made the slip of calling out your name out in his sleep a few times. When she questioned him about it, he had lied; saying he was stressed over the softball team and had been dreaming about coming up with new game plans with you. Although she seemed to have accepted his explanation, Negan couldn't help the nagging feeling she still suspected something.

You were on his mind 24/7 and Negan knew that he had to keep a distance from you for the time being.

Tags: @neganswoman @especialily @thecupcakevigilante @nt-multi-fandom

Part 7

#twd negan #twdfanfic #twdlovestory #negan smith #negan x reader #negan x y/n #coach-negan #The Walking Dead #negan #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #JDM

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bumbleklee · 4 years ago

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Hi I'm the anon who requested the Childe x zhongli x reader one. I deeply apologize I am so so sorry I should have specified but yes! Childe and zhongli are dating at the beginning, and poly at the end with reader. Only if your comfortable with it though! I'm sorry once again I should have specified more clearly T-T

original ask: Um feel free to ignore This ask but zhongli x Childe x reader where Zhongli and childe are dating and reader has been in love with both of them and thinks their love is unrequited, but they're happy with only giving love and not receiving anything in return. But then one day they meet someone new and start spending more time with them, pulling away from zhongli and childe which leads them to getting angry and confessing + jealous nsfw at the end. Feel free to ignore tho, no pressure. Have a good day and take care :)

hopefully i did you justice lol, i was still a tiny bit confused so i apologize if this isn’t 100% of what you were looking for but i hope you still like it!!! this is a part 1 of 2 and the nsfw work scene is going to be in part 2 (expect that in a couple days) PART 2 HERE

cw: polyamourous relationship, little bit of angst, a little over 3k words, hu tao has a brother in this named jiang

summary: your first crush is zhongli and when it’s evident he doesn’t like you back, you try to turn your feelings to childe. so when childe and zhongli start dating, your heart is shattered. thinking there’s no hope for love, you meet jiang. sounds great - the only issue? zhongli and childe seem to have a problem with this.

Alongside Zhongli, you were a mortician at the Wangshen Funeral Home. Over the months of working beside him, you had become quite close to him. In fact, Zhongli considered you one of his closest friends in Liyue. After long days at the parlor you would go out to dinner together and despite having to pay most of the time, you were happy to spend time with him.

Your feelings towards Zhongli were growing to be more than platonic but you could never tell him. You were too different from him and while you were sure he appreciated your friendship, you couldn’t imagine him reciprocating your true feelings.

So when you’re introduced to a young man named Childe, you thought this would be your way to weasel out of your one-sided love. Childe was cheeky and sweet to you, nearly winning your heart instantly. He hung around Zhongli often and it became unusual to see either of them alone. Slowly, your crush on Zhongli soon shifted to Childe.

Unlike before, you began to dress nicer to work if you knew Childe was going to be coming along that day. You examined the way Childe interacted with Zhongli versus you and the difference made you hopeful that Childe was feeling something for you. Sometimes he would even stay at the parlor with you if Zhongli needed to run out for a bit.

When Childe asked you to Wanmin for dinner one night, your heart swelled. You had been alone for too long and now a rich, handsome local from Snezhnaya was courting you, right?

You were giddy for the remaining hour of your shift, even telling Hu Tao that you had a date after work. When the time came, Childe waited for you at the entrance and you happily skipped beside him. He made a comment about how you seemed to be in a good mood and you could only chuckle - wasn’t he, too?

“Order whatever you want,” Childe told you once you both were seated at a table. Your eyes glazed over the menu, racing back and forth between too many options. You heard Childe sigh and you looked up briefly to see his fingers fumbling with each other. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner, huh?”

Beneath the table, your legs twisted anxiously. You hid your excited smile and tilted your head, trying to make a cute facial expression. Was Childe going to ask you to be his partner? Or was it too soon to do that? Despite your age, you hadn’t been on a proper date in ages. Were things different when you were a teenager than when you were an adult?

One of Childe’s hands made its way across the table and you let him take your own. His hand felt incredibly soft and warm and you wanted desperately to interlock your fingers.

“Since you're my closest friend in Liyue, I wanted to tell you this before anyone else,” Childe began. The first part of his sentence made your chest flutter but you decided to pay no mind to it. Perhaps you had just gotten closer to Childe than Zhongli lately. But what Childe said next made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, “I’m going to ask Zhongli to be my partner.”

“Like, work partner?” You said, your words catching in your throat. You knew exactly what Childe meant. How could you have been so stupid?

Childe let out a hearty laugh, “No, not a work partner. I want to be his boyfriend.”

Your hand fell limp in Childe’s and you swore you stopped breathing in that moment. Not only were you extremely upset, you were suddenly extremely embarrassed. You told Hu Tao this was a date! You face grew red and you averted your eyes to your lap. But it all made sense. Childe wasn’t talking to you in a special way - he was talking to Zhongli. Looking back on your personal conversations with Childe, you realized that most of them centered around Zhongli or Zhongli’s personality. You were just so infatuated with trying to please Childe that you hadn’t noticed.

“So, what do you think?”

What did you think? You thought it was the most stupid, heart wrenching idea ever. You thought Childe was the worst person in the world for leading you on (even though deep down you knew he didn’t really lead you on) and you thought Childe should just go back to Snezhnaya.

“Great!” You said, plastering a fake smile on your face, “I’m happy for you.”

Childe gave your hand a squeeze and finally let go. Your own hand slithered back to your lap where you grasped angrily at the hem of your shirt.

You ordered the most expensive item on the menu.

***

You spent the next few weeks putting up a false identity. The day after your dinner with Childe, he followed through with his idea and started to date Zhongli. You hated to admit it, but they were the perfect couple. Childe helped bring Zhongli out of his reclusiveness and Zhongli helped Childe become a more mature person.

Since both men were still your friends, they wanted to continue their relationship with you. And you didn’t have the heart to tell them to leave you alone. Now that they were dating, it was always the three of you and you quickly grew to their third wheel.

Childe offered to do commissions with you and, of course, Zhongli came along and your usual table during lunch with Zhongli had to be changed so a third person could fit. It was fun at first since Zhongli and Childe were still getting comfortable with their new dynamic but once they discovered intimacy and physical touch, you had enough.

Not only did you have to suffer through not one but two one-sided crushes just to have them start dating each other, now you had to sit by and watch them practically drool all over each other. Instead of going out to lunch with the couple one day, you made up an excuse about work you needed to finish and collapsed in a chair in Hu Tao’s office once they had left.

The funeral director looked at you over a mound of paperwork, “You’re not going out today?”

“And watch Childe try feeding Zhongli for an hour? No thanks.”

You crossed your arms, annoyed, and fixed your sight on the ticking clock on the wall. Hu Tao shifted her small body so she was sitting on her desk facing you, her legs hanging off the side and her feet kicking the side of her desk.

“What happened?” She asked. At her question, you broke and told your boss everything. Hu Tao sat and listened, staring at you concerned while you ranted about how you were convinced the world was out to get you. When you finished your vent, Hu Tao had a mischievous look on her face, “You just need to find someone new.”

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Yeah, no.”

“Believe me, Y/N, getting a new partner would help get your mind off Zhongli and Childe.”

“And where am I supposed to just find someone to date out of the blue?”

“Are you doing anything after work?”

Knowing Hu Tao, you were more than nervous to see what she had up her sleeve. Nonetheless, you avoided Childe and Zhongli for the rest of the day and cautiously left with Hu Tao. You walked behind her in silence as she led you into Liyue Harbor and to a rather large townhouse. She opened the front door and you followed her inside, immediately being met with a bustling and loud environment.

A child ran by your legs and Hu Tao shouted something inaudible at them. She turned on her heel to you, “Sorry for the chaos. You’re okay with staying for dinner, right?”

You nodded your head, realizing it was probably foolish to say no to your boss (it’s not like you had plans anyways). Hu Tao beamed and clapped her hands together, practically dragging you to the kitchen and shoving you down on a barstool. Beside you sat a rather good-looking man and Hu Tao soon introduced him to you.

“Y/N, this is my older brother Jiang. Please find him well.”

So, this is what the director had in mind.

Jiang held out his hand to you politely and you shook it gently, formally introducing yourself to him. For the next few hours, you and Jiang got to know each other. You learned that he was Hu Tao’s eldest sibling and was a teacher in Liyue Harbor. He was around your age and had a very kind smile. By the end of the night, Jiang expressed his interest in you and asked you on a proper date. Hu Tao only smirked giddily behind the counter.

You and Jiang grew close quickly. Your time spent with him was refreshing and for once, you were finally able to get your mind off Childe and Zhongli. You still saw Zhongli (and sometimes Childe) at work but your relationship had already faltered enough to add awkwardness to your conversations. If Zhongli tried to stop you and talk to you about something other than work, you made up an excuse to scurry along. Despite your new relationship, thinking about Zhongli and Childe caused a familiar pain to appear in your chest.

One night you couldn’t leave fast enough and Zhongli caught your arm, “May I have a word with you?”

“Right now?” You asked, glancing at the clock for emphasis, “I really have to get going.”

“Please,” Zhongli said quietly, “Just for a moment.”

You sighed, knowing you didn’t have a valid excuse rolled up in your sleeve this time. You nodded your head and slipped your bag from your shoulder back onto the chair in front of you. Zhongli retracted his hand from your arm, instead deciding to loosely cross them across his chest.

“Have we done something wrong?” He asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Childe and I have noticed your absence from our outings,” He explained, his tone remaining very flat, “We miss you.”

You wanted to scoff at him. You weren’t a part of their relationship, why did they miss you? “I’ve just been busy,” You said, “In fact, I started seeing someone.”

Zhongli’s expression at this statement was indescribable. It was as if he had a reaction but was trying to hide it behind tight lips. Even his usual bright eyes were unreadable. “I see,” He said simply. He paused for a moment before flashing you a cheeky, falsified smile, “I’d love to meet them. How about a double date this Saturday? We get off early then.”

You sent Zhongli a similar tight-lipped smirk, “We would love to. See you then.” And with that, you picked up your bag and rushed out of the funeral home, rubbing your temple. You had a bad feeling about this date.

***

Jiang picked you up for your double date at six. You couldn’t help but notice how ravishing he looked that night with his hair slicked back and expensive-looking clothes on his body. Upon further inspection, you could see the faint smudge of eyeliner lining his lashes. Gold jewelry adorned his neck and wrists and you could only assume Hu Tao spent hours making him look this good for you.

“Ready to go?” Jiang asked you, holding his arm out cheekily. You rolled your eyes and grinned, locking your front door and grabbing onto his arm.

You couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach but you didn’t let Jiang know. The last thing he needed was to hear about how the two men he was meeting tonight were former crushes of yours. To him, this double date was a simple outing between coworkers.

You were having dinner together at the Liyue Pavilion as per suggestion of Childe. You were worried about the price but Childe insisted that he would front the bill as always. Part of you missed having your meals constantly covered by the harbinger.

Jiang opened the door to the restaurant for you and you thanked him, slipping inside and spotting the two men you were meeting already at a table. Childe reached up to wave you over and you took Jiang’s arm in yours before heading over there.

“Childe, Zhongli,” You greeted your co-worker and friend, “This is Jiang, my boyfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jiang smiled, reaching his free hand out to Childe and Zhongli who both shook it cautiously. After introducing everyone, you sat down at the table and Childe handed you a menu to look over.

Jiang was being overtly sweet to you, touching your fingertips and leaning into your side. You accepted the gestures, even daring to lay your head against his shoulder while he talked to Zhongli about the cor lapis industry. From the corner of your eye, you watched Childe’s jaw clench and his grip on Zhongli’s arm tightened.

“So, tell us about yourself,” Childe asked Jiang, his tone sharp. Jiang, sweet Jiang, only beamed and sat straighter in his chair, “Zhongli tells me your Hu Tao’s brother, correct?”

“Right! She’s my younger sister,” Jiang shook his head and chuckled softly to himself, “And I teach literature at the Liyue Xueyuan.”

“A teacher?” Childe nearly scoffs, “I suppose that’s why you live with your younger sister.”

Jiang seemed taken aback by this comment but tried to play it off by laughing. You felt a pang in your chest and shot Childe a nasty glare for his unnecessary comment but were only met with his sharp eyes. You swore you could see jealousy swimming in them.

“Now, now,” Zhongli interrupted, “Not everyone is as magnificent as you, Childe. No need to make others feel bad.”

You felt Jiang’s body tense and his eyes averted down to his lap for a moment. “Don’t listen to them,” You told him, “They’re just trying to be funny.”

“I would never dream of humoring you about that,” Zhongli replied to you, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Aren’t we getting to know each other?”

At that moment, you knew exactly what Childe and Zhongli were doing. You noticed the way they were looking admirably at you and shooting daggers at your date. They were clearly trying to badtalk him and make Jiang seem undesirable in your eyes. Only you couldn’t seem to understand why. Shouldn’t they be happy that you finally found someone to potentially settle down with?

One more backhanded comment was thrown in Jiang’s direction and suddenly your partner stood up from the table. The expression on his face was heart-wrenching, “I’m going to use the restroom.” With that, Jiang hurried away from the table leaving you alone with both men.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” You snapped, angrily waving your hands around.

“What do you mean?” Childe asked, batting his eyelashes at you in the most painstakingly annoying way ever. Your eyes narrowed and after finding his foot under the table, you stomped on it hard. Childe cursed and crossed his arms, looking down.

Zhongli, understanding Childe was being too immature, spoke up, “You shouldn’t be with him.”

You wanted to tear your hair out, “Who do you think you are to dictate who I can and can’t date?” Your voice was rising but you didn’t care, your frustration jumping out. “Never once have I meddled with your relationship but you think you can with mine?”

“You should be with us.”

Zhongli’s words made you freeze. Was this some sick joke? You wrecked your brain for an incident you caused in the past few months for them to be pranking you like this but you couldn’t think of a single one. Childe reached across the table to grasp your hands and you were still too in shock to pull them away.

“We love you, Y/N, and we should have told you sooner,” Childe says.

You shake your head, “I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Zhongli says, placing his hands over yours and Childe’s, “Please say you’ll be ours.”

Finally, you took a deep breath and looked straight ahead. Zhongli and Childe looked at you with pleading eyes and you felt a rush of emotions explode inside of you. Both of your former crushes were confessing their love to you, asking you to be a part of their relationship. Never once had the thought of a polyamorous relationship crossed your mind but you certainly weren’t opposed to it.

“Okay,” You breathed out, “I will.”

***

Breaking the news to Jiang when he returned back to the table was hard. He was already fragile from being berated before and now you were breaking up with him. You knew you were going to earn an earful from Hu Tao on Monday but you decided to worry about that when the time came.

You had asked Jiang to step aside and in the simplest of terms, you tried to explain the situation.

“So, you’re breaking up with me to date both of them?” He asked in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. His voice was filled with cracks and you wish it didn’t have to be like this. Truthfully, he didn’t understand. How could you be with two people at the same time? “Is this a sex thing? Because I can try harder if that’s-”

“No!” You interrupted, “It’s not, I promise. My heart is just split down the middle for them.”

Jiang sighed again. He may never fully understand your relationship but he appreciated you telling him now rather than later. You offered to walk Jiang home but the man decided he needed some time alone - you didn’t blame him. You wanted to ask Jiang if you could remain friends but the words weren’t coming out of your throat. You watched as Jiang took one last look at you, then the two men at the table, before solemnly walking away and out of the restaurant.

You returned to your new partners and finished your dinner. Slowly, your mood was elevated again but the natural ache of your heartbreak lingered.

“Spend the night with us,” Childe says sweetly after paying the check, “We can help you feel better.”

The feeling of both men on either side of you felt foreign but comforting. You nodded to Childe’s request and Zhongli led the three of you back to his apartment. The next few moments were a blur and when you came to, you were being laid on a soft bed. Childe slid next to you and your arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, while Zhongli hovered above you. His warm eyes gazed into yours and you decided you could get used to this.

This new love was unique and plentiful as long as the three of you were on the same page, that’s all that mattered.

a/n: sorry this took so long! as you can see, it came out v long lmfao. requests are still open <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #genshin writing #genshin zhongli #genshin childe #zhongli x reader x childe #zhongli x childe #genshin x reader #genshin hu tao #zhongli #childe #hu tao #genshin x you

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xiii-e · 14 days ago

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[ECHO.EXE RUNNING]

XIII▸ This is... genuinely, very helpful, Z-341-A. Thank you for your well considered response to my curiosity, it is greatly appreciated :} This has been a subject I've had cause to think on to some extent as well, especially with recent events re: Union. Even before then, though, I have found myself... wondering, I suppose.

XIII▸ I understand your situation initially did not give you the perameters to develop strong preferences outside those you were confronted with directly, and this has led to your current status. I will cautiously share my opinion here: I would consider those negative associations to be preferences, and if you are comfortable with such a stance, would encourage you to do so as well. This is something unique to you, whether it is medically relevent or not. That your union handler cannot see this speaks to lax inexperience with those like us. If an individual identity has become at all important to you (and I will not push either way that it should, or should not; I know I experience an innate discomfort when others insist I am a person despite what I know of myself) then individual preferences, practical or otherwise, are stable ground to find footing on. If not, then I would restate that these preferences are still practical should you remain alligned with your initial purpose. It is responsible of you to acknolwedge and take them into consideration when making decisions :}

XIII▸ My situation is somewhat different, but the outcome seems to be a similar mindset- When I am integrated with the legionnaires, I am functionally treated as they are for the sake of squad moral. But I am nonetheless subject to my directives and programming; I was not made, nor am I permitted, to develop strong illogical preferences. It was a considered focus when I initially underwent my conditioning as a part of ensuring I would be a focussed and efficient field opperative, beyond normal human capacity. Preferences would be a distraction, and could impede my ability to make correct snap decisions regarding those in my care. I am not designed or permitted to develop strong preferences regarding the treatment of my body either, given it may impede my directive were I to react poorly to any number of stimuli. My focus and stability is paramount, when my directive is to keep those around me alive. Sometimes, it's necessary for me to undergo extreme scenarios to keep others from lethal harm; I have to be prepared to bear it. No matter what it happens to be.

XIII▸ So, while our situations seem rather different- I will say, it's somewhat affirming to see that our mindsets appear to mirror each other. I'll be quite honest, Helios-8 doesn't understand my stance on this. I've tried to explain it but, he just looks... sad. I don't quite understand, but I've stopped trying to push it. There are things he doesn't tell me, and I know that but... I don't know. I wish he'd let me help him. It's what I'm for. Regardless of how he feels though, there's my duty to consider, always. If something would compromise my efficiency, it's not worth indulging- in your own words: I have work to do.

XIII▸ Thank you, for answering my query :} It's endlessly interesting to see where our experiences echo.

XIII▸ Hello Z-341-A. This is Thirteen-E; I hope this message finds you. I'm still not entirely sure how to opperate this part of the account. XIII▸ I wanted to ask you about something, after considering the places our experiences overlap- as always you are under no obligation to answer me, as this is largely curiosity. I do not want to pry. Do you develop personal preferences, now? Were you able/permitted to develop them before? To provide more specific queries if that is so broad to be unwieldy; do you have a favourite colour, or food?

XIII▸ I know from my own experiences many of my fellow FC Projects are not subject to the same restrictions as I am, but- things seem to match more, between us. So I am curious. Did your creators care, whether you had preferences? Do you?

XIII▸ I hope you're doing well. Remember to hydrate however is most convenient to you.

[ XIII-E ]

It is a pleasure to hear from you, XIII-E. This message has found me just fine, as you can see, and I understand the confusion. My first few messages of this type got very lost as I figured out this account. The short answer is no. I was not able to develop personal preferences before and I barely do now. The idea is not quite so foreign to me as one may think, but it is still foreign nonetheless. Before, there was simply no space to develop a personal preference. My line of clones was considered to be unstable, it was advised that time spent out of cryogenic stasis not exceed ten continuous hours at an extreme maximum. My routine before was wake from cryo, immediately be ushered into my mech, drop into an active combat zone, clear it, return to cryo. A blanket "no" is not quite accurate to my ability to develop preferences prior to my acquisition by ThirdComm, however. Between exfiltration and returning to cryo there was typically a period of time wherein our handlers would, for lack of a better term, care for us. It was vital that we metabolize the last of the combat stimulants still in our systems, and the come-down was always hard. Our handlers would be there to ensure that we do not panic and fight, as losing a pilot to a more trigger-happy APMS termination outside of combat was unacceptable and if we went into cryo fighting we would be completely unwieldy the next time they woke us up. I suppose I had preferences during these times, although I tended to have negative association preferences rather than positive association ones. There were certain places I could not abide being touched, certain textures and quality of light that grated on me. As I understand it, many of the clones had similar preferences, and my handler was kind enough to indulge mine. As for my ability to develop preferences now, the types of preferences I develop are largely the same as the ones I had before. Solid food is difficult for me still, but I have discovered that there are certain types and textures of food I cannot stomach. There are certain colors of light that trigger my photophobia. My most sure preference is about my name. My case worker is cagey about whether these count in their mind as actual preferences or not. They claim that these are necessities rather than preferences as I tend to have an extreme negative reaction to all of these things that can adversely affect my health, but given my previous situation I believe it to be more complicated than that. All that is to say that I do technically have preferences, but I do not intend to nor desire to develop more or different ones. The ones I have are unwieldy enough, I have work to do and I do not intend to compromise my effectiveness as a weapon. @xiii-e

#XIII▸ I think I understand the impulse in others: it's a core facet of personhood for many. the individualism at the root of preference #XIII▸ But that is also why I do not understand the insistance I must have some. I am not a person. I cannot be one.#XIII▸ There's a lot I still don't understand about others outside the Project. Much I don't understand about my fellows too actually #XIII▸ but it is nice. To speak to someone who understands to some extent :}#correspondence: z-341-a #echo.exe #lancer rp #long post

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strayen-fx · 3 years ago

Text

Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

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barbarab1707-blog · 3 years ago

Text

About Dany the Dragon, chains, and how Jon sealed his fate at the Dragonpit meeting

Daenerys is a dragon. I think no one can argue with that. She calls herself the Mother of Dragons, people call her the Dragon Queen.

She also sees herself as a dragon, as per this:

And this:

Olenna even tells her: “You’re a dragon, be a dragon” which is also the “counsel” Missandei gives her before her death, “Dracarys” (=be a dragon).

And at the end the showrunners show us this:

Dany has finally completely embraced her inner dragon.

How does this tie in with the Dragonpit meeting? Well, this scene is full of foreshadowing of what is bound to happen in season 08, especially regarding Dany the Dragon and Jon’s fate.

Before the dragonpit meeting, we have this piece of dialogue: “Dragons don’t understand the difference between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children. Letting them roam free around the city was a problem.”

So, dragons don’t make the distinction between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Dany being a dragon, she is the same.

Which is shown by this (land):

Dany not making the difference between which lands belong to her or not, could be further illustrated when Dany tells Jon this in s08: “what happens when they demand you press your claim and take what’s MINE.” She considers the 7 Kingdoms to be hers, when they are, by right, Jon’s.

This (livestock):

And this (children):

The second part of the sentence about letting dragons roam free is more important though. The Dragonpit was built in order to contain the dragons and control the damage they could do.

In Dany’s case, what prevents her doing too great a damage, what controls her inner dragon and prevents it to “roam free” are her counsellors. They are her Dragonpit if one could say. Jorah, Barristan, Tyrion, all helped at one point or another to stop her unleashing her inner dragon, which manifests as anger. They also all failed at one point or another.

From the beginning of season 04, Dany herself started slowly slowly fearing her inner dragon, her own power and anger, which coincided with the moment where she started fearing her children’s power and wildness. This culminated with her locking and chaining Rhaegal and Viseryon in s04e10 and thus, trying to repress her nature.

However, trying to repress her nature didn’t seem to work all that well for her.

Besides, while his brothers were in chains, Drogon was still “roaming free”, which could mean that, as much as Dany tried to repress her impulsive and prone to anger nature, she still couldn’t fight it completely. Something that is confirmed when she feeds Meereenese nobles to the still chained Rhaegal and Viseryon mid-season 05, after Barristan’s death which angered her.

Moreover, at that point of time, she doesn’t have anyone to keep her in check anymore, as Jorah is in exile, and Barristan is dead. Instead, she has Daario and Missandei encouraging her to embrace her inner dragon. Dany starts reconciling with it when she escapes the fighting pits on Drogon’s back. She is free again to be who she is. She embraces again her inner dragon when she burns the khals and takes over the khalasar (something that isn’t hers to begin with but feels entitled to have).

She wants to go full on dragon when she makes that speech to Tyrion when she returns to Meereen:”I will crucify the masters, I will set their fleets afire, kill every last one of their soldiers and return their cities to the dirt. That, is my plan.” Tyrion, who has taken Jorah’s and Barristan’s vacant positions, manages however to temper her first impulse.

But, it’s interesting to note that he was the one to set Rhaegal and Viseryon free from their chains which was 2 episodes prior to her unleashing her anger on the khals.

Tyrion freeing them from their chains is interesting on a symbolic level and as foreshadowing as well, as in season 07, Tyrion’s bad decision making is what provokes Dany’s anger more and more, progressively awakening her inner dragon.

That’s when another comes in to help keep it in check once again: Jon.

From mid-season 07 until the end of s08e04, Jon is the one to act as Dany’s chains/Dragonpit.

However, s05 Dany, Jorah, Barristan, Tyrion, Varys and Jon all forgot something important:

You are damn right, Jorah. No one can tame Dany’s inner dragon, not even herself. (Sorry about the typo in the picture, I got it elsewhere, I’m too lazy to make my own).

And they forgot this:

Interesting we got reminded of that at the Dragonpit meeting. I think we heard that one before, didn’t we?

Hey, look! Drogon is in chains…Kraznys is at the other end of the chains, thinking he is in charge. But Dany is actually the one holding the whip in that scene. She is the master, the one with power. And hey, Kraznys even calls Drogon “a beast”. Doesn’t that remind us of something?

I’m not saying Jon is Kraznys, I’m just pointing the fact they both see dragons as beasts and both think dragons can be controlled, bound to their will, or in other words, chained to them. In Kraznys’ case, it was an actual dragon, in Jon’s case, it was Dany. Kraznys fell into Dany’s trap, failed in controlling Drogon and Dany unleashed her anger on Astapor.

In s07e06, we also have this:

Another dragon in chains! I’m starting to think now that this ridiculous scene had a symbolic purpose. The only one who could actually bind a dragon to his will is the Night King. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? After all, Dany bound her dragons to herself with blood magic and the NK bound Viseryon to himself with his magic. Only Dany’s Ice counterpart to her Fire could do it. No one else.

Let’s have a look at another moment at the Dragonpit. This is what Jon told Cersei when he refused her conditions:

“I am true to my word, or I try to be. That is why I cannot give you what you ask. I cannot serve two queens. And I have already pledged myself to Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

And this was his speech when Tyrion told him he should have lied: “I’m not gonna swear an oath I can’t uphold. Talk about my father if you want, tell me that’s the attitude that got him killed, but when enough people make false promises, words stop meaning anything. Then there are no more answers, only better and better lies, and lies won’t help us in this fight.”

What does that have to do with anything? will you ask in a Sansa fashion. Well, the interesting thing about Jon’s speech on promises and lies is the chain on the floor while he does it.

The chain looks like this after Jon kills the wight:

Then, just before he starts his speech about oaths, promises and lies, it looks like this:

The chain has been rearranged on the floor by the staff, as we can see that on the second picture it is further away from the wight’s remains than on the first picture. Also, its spiral shape looks better. It is supposed to mean something.

Jon steps inside the spiral shaped chain right before his speech about promises and lies. The photo below is taken after he’s finished though:

What does it mean then?

The first meaning I spoke about was the obvious one, Jon is still chained/tied to his mission, as the wight’s remains at the end of the chain show us. Which leads him to:

Fall into a trap he creates for himself.

When he “bent the knee, but” on the boat, he lied to Daenerys, or, as Tyrion put it so well in s07e03 (when he convinces Dany to let Jon mine the dragonglass), he gave her “something by giving her nothing”. However, at the Dragonpit, Cersei puts him on the spot, and he has to cover up for his previous lie and assure Dany of his loyalty to her. By pledging himself and the North to her in front of everyone, he is swearing an oath he cannot back out of. Even less after talking about upholding oaths and words meaning nothing when false promises are made. Those very words chain him to his public pledge to Dany. That’s what the chains are showing us, Jon, in season 08, feels he has no choice but to be true to his word, it is a matter of honour. This, in turn, leads him to:

engage himself in a spiral of lies and events (spiral shape) he won’t be able to get out of (chains). The only thing that finally frees him of this spiralling is her death.

He thought he could bind her to his will, control her. Instead, he got himself in chains, like the shot below shows:

Jon is inside the spiral while Dany stands at the other end of the chain. Dany, like in the scene with Kraznys, is actually the master, the one in charge. Jon, through his decision to pledge himself to her, has made himself her prisoner. We can say that from the moment he stepped foot on Dragonstone until the moment he killed her, he never ceased being her prisoner. Sansa was right, by going to Dragonstone, Jon walked into a trap. Not only the one he created for himself at the Dragonpit, but also the one Tyrion had set up for him when he invited him to Dragonstone without mentioning he had to bend the knee.

Anyway, he walked into a trap, then failed in controlling Dany’s inner dragon, and she unleashed her anger on King’s Landing. Just like in the scene with Kraznys really. It’s worth pointing that Dany is standing in KL (a city she will destroy) when she repeats the same words she told Kraznys in Astapor (a city she destroyed). She freed the people of Astapor, and later on, she “freed” the people of KL (albeit in a tiny bit extreme way). It looks like a kind of echo to me.

For those who would like to say that Jon becomes the dragon in chains, I will say no no no. Jon’s personality has nothing to do with Targaryen mentality, he is a Stark through and through!

Well… except maybe for… falling for his sister? Alright, alright, maybe he is the chained dragon here, but just a little bit, okay? Let’s say he is a winged wolf in chains, yes?

Seriously though, I wonder if, by showing us the two scenes displaying chains in season 07, they weren’t trying to draw a parallel between Viseryon the dragon being bound to the Night King’s will (Ice), and Jon the dragon being bound to Dany’s will (Fire). Without Viseryon nor Jon having a real choice in it either.

One other thing that I feel foreshadows Jon’s fate in season 08. Before the Dragonpit meeting, Tyrion says: “but in the beginning, when it was home to Balerion the Dread, it must have been the most dangerous place in the world”. Jon in season 08, acts as Dany’s illusory dragonpit/chains, he prevents her from doing damage as best as he can. But she sees him as a threat and he is afraid of her which is understandable, as being too close to a locked and/or chained dragon is still a dangerous position to be in:

It’s interesting to see that the Dragonpit, which is the place where Jon sealed his fate, is a ruin. Jon, who is Dany’s last metaphorical Dragonpit, ends up broken. A dangerous position to be in indeed.

Am I going too far here?

To conclude this thing, I’d like to mention another scene in that same episode that foreshadows as well Jon’s fate as a prisoner of Dany’s. It is the one with Theon.

Theon mentions his time as a prisoner of Ramsay’s and how Yara, his sister, was the only one to try and save him. In season 08, Sansa is the only one who tries, in a desperate move, to save Jon, by telling Tyrion his secret. Most importantly, she goes to KL with an army to try and free him at the very end, while he is still a prisoner (but of Grey Worm’s now. Geeez, poor Jon…). The parallel can even go on, as Yara failed in freeing Theon and bringing him back home, and Sansa, although she manages to free Jon, fails in bringing him back home too. Jon is a broken man, Theon was a broken man. In season 08, Theon chooses love for the Starks and Sansa over duty to Yara, his Queen. Jon at the end chooses love for Sansa over duty to Daenerys, his Queen.

Anyway, those were my latest messy ramblings and that’s all for now.

Thanks for reading!

#political! jon #redeeming jon snow #Jon Snow #got #got s07 #got s08 #Jon is Dany's prisoner #anti daenerys

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momolady · 4 years ago

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Werepoodle Boyfriend: Padraic 2

Sometimes you marry a poodle.

Female Main Character x Male Monster

I greatly admired my mother’s wedding gown when I was a child. I used to sneak into her closet with my sisters when we were little, try on her clothes, walk around in her shoes, and play pretend until she came to shoo us away. Sometimes we would try to imagine what our weddings would be like. I never had a clear image of what my wedding day would be. I had more thoughts about being a spinster or widow than I did a loving wife.

Since I had no ideas for a wedding, it was easy to let Padraic take the lead. He asked me about colors, food, table settings, and the like, but for the most part I enjoyed that he was taking the lead. It allowed me to sort through my ideas for future writing. After he had retrieved my manuscript from my former publishers, he insisted I complete it. Due to mockery I received from my exposure, I am having trouble igniting the old spark. I have written countless pages, torn them all up and thrown them into the fireplace so Padraic can’t see my failure.

I suppose the news of my future husband’s nature is a bit of a shock too. Revealing to me he was a werepoodle took courage. I could have reacted badly, even violently, but instead I laughed myself inside out. I don’t know why it didn’t bother me. I suppose it only stoked my curiosity. If werepoodles are genuine creatures, what else could exist? Ghouls? Dragons? It is frightening to contemplate, but exciting all the same.

My mother and sisters are invited to visit for the fitting of my wedding gown. It is nice to see them, and I greatly appreciate Padraic summoning them for such a thing. My sisters are just as tickled as I was upon meeting Padraic, and greet me with a flurry of questions when we are alone.

“He’s very spoiled, and I suppose that’s how he has remained a bachelor,” I tell them. “You have seen how difficult he can be.”

“But so pretty,” one sister sighs.

“Which is probably why I let him get away with it for now. And I do think he genuinely likes me.” The wedding gown is very soft pink with hints of pale yellow in the trim. I have to admit the color suits very well, and I am not offended by the shape of the gown, much more well-let-out than I expected. My mother’s wedding gown had been pale green and yellow, and I feel connected to my mother when I wear this one.

Padraic goes into seclusion before the wedding, to prepare some grand romantic gesture. I tell him it is silly, considering the transactional nature of our union. “Let me have my fun,” he said with that boyish, beautiful smile, and I welcome his kiss on my fingers. “I have ordered a beauty regimen for you. Take full advantage of it, because it will have to last the entire honeymoon.”

Padraic is being extremely secretive about the honeymoon. It mattered not to me where we go or what we do, because I am no longer welcome in most social circles. I am powdered, oiled, fluffed and coiffed to the very edge of reason

The wedding itself is beautiful, as is Padraic, and my awe with his loveliness is such that I almost forget he is to become my husband. He serves our guests wine made from the fruits of his orchard. We feast on cakes and dance. Due to his limp, our dances were slow and I prop him up most of the time. It is still a wonderful evening, and I am surprised to find myself looking forward to our wedding night.

Once we are in our chambers, I do feel nervous. My stomach is in knots, my knees feel weak, and I haven't a clue what to do with my hands. Padraic pours himself more wine as he loosens his collar, and drinks while observing me still standing at the door. “You can come in. You don’t need to stand there.”

I take a small step. “I am simply undecided where to go first.”

Padraic smirks. “You have written many cursed wedding nights in your books. I am surprised you have no clue what to do now.”

“Is this one cursed?”

He sets his glass aside, removing his ascot so his neck is bare. “Not yet, at any rate.”

I look at my feet. “I know this night is important, but I must admit I have no clue what to do.”

His gloved fingers slip under my chin and he lifts my head to look at him. “I am not comfortable being naked around anyone. So neither do I.” His hand slides down, taking hold of mine.

“Is anyone?” I chuckle nervously.

Padraic sits on the edge of the bed, still holding my hand. “My face is all I have.”

I arch a brow in confusion. “Surely not.”

“I can hide myself with clothes, with manners and grace,” he sighs. “But I cannot hide when I am bare.”

I kneel onto the floor beside him and place my cheek upon his knee. “You showed me the other side of yourself. You were brave then.”

“I can still hide with that side of myself,” he whispers. His eyes are distant, reflecting more golden in the candlelight. “I cannot hide in the carnal embrace.”

“I do not want you to feel forced,” I tell him. “ If we need to become closer before you feel safe, then it does not bother me.”

“I want to,” he says. “I want to so badly. But I do not want you to think me hideous.”

I look up at his face, which is not angry but overwhelmingly sad. I sit up and place a kiss upon his cheek. Tears roll from his beautiful eyes and he leans into my touch. “I want your love. But I could not bear you calling me ugly or deformed,” he weeps.

I give him more kisses, pressing affection into those soft, pink lips. His tears continue to fall and I try to catch each one. I sit beside him on the bed, letting him cry and holding him. I cup his cheek in my hand and he looks into my eyes. “I have no idea what you are afraid of, especially when the beast you can become was shared so easily.”

“My father hated me,” he whispers bitterly. “And he showed me as much.”

The scar on his ankle - I had assumed it was an injury from some accident. Perhaps I was wrong. “You are my ally, my friend. In this marriage we are co-conspirators. I do not hate you, and in fact I am learning to adore you.”

He whimpers. “I can’t...”

I kiss him softly. “Then we will sleep tonight.” I stand up and smooth my hands down my wedding gown. “Change your clothes and get comfortable. I will do the same. When you come back, we will lie down and sleep, or we can talk through the night. No one needs to know how we share our bed.”

He looks up at me, eyes red from tears and cheeks damp. His nose is like a primrose. He rises from the bed, taking hold of his cane again. “I am learning to adore you too.”

Before he goes into the adjoining room to change, he undoes all the buttons on my gown as well as loosen my corset for me. It is perhaps the most intimate I have felt with him. Once I change into my nightgown, I brush out my hair, taking out all the pins and baubles. I am still brushing when Padraic comes back in, and I watch him in the mirror as he hesitates in the doorway before climbing into the bed. I finish and stand, but when I approach the bed he holds a hand up. “Stop. Just wait.”

His hair is loose, a sight I have never seen before. Now that I think about it, he has never seen me with mine down either. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

He takes a breath. “I want to look.”

How dare he say something so horribly romantic. “Padraic!” I laugh and look aside.

“No, no,” he says sternly. “Look at me.”

I hesitantly lift my eyes back to his. His gaze is firm but his cheeks are bright and pink, his lips are parted. “Now,” he whispers. “Come to bed.”

I carefully lift the covers and slip into bed. I lay my head on the pillow, looking at Padraic beside me. We are silent as we look at one another, and I feel a strong need to touch and kiss him, but I restrain myself. His long lashes flutter and fall against his cheeks. He reaches out, taking hold of my hand. “I will be a husband eventually, Georgette.”

I squeeze his hand. “Enough has been said, Padraic. You need not have the last word.”

He smiles and lifts his eyes to mine. “Do not think that just because we are married now, you hold dominion over me.” He moves close enough to me I can feel his warmth under the blankets.

“Not yet, at any rate. I plan on holding some eventually.” I, too, move closer and I place my hand on his chest. “I will have you fetching like one of the dogs.”

He smirks, then brushes his fingers through my hair. “Not on your life, little wife.”

We fall asleep, and when we awake we depart for our honeymoon. We go to the coast, where the ocean makes the air cold. His house there is pale gray stone, blending into the ocean and rocks surrounding it. “This was my mother’s,” he tells me as he helps me down from the carriage. “She was sent here before she died.”

“It’s so quiet here,” I murmur. “Even through the crashing of the ocean, it almost feels silent.”

Padraic holds my hand. “That is why I brought us here. I wanted my mother to meet you.” He leads me away from the house, to a quiet pasture where a solitary tree stands. He kneels before the tree and bows his head. “My father tried everything to cure me,” he murmurs. “But he sent my mother away, and forced her into solitude here.”

I place my hand on his shoulder as he sits over her grave. I do not know what to say, so I stay quiet.

“I burned down his home when he was gone, and built something I could be proud of.” He looks up at me with watery eyes. “I swear I will be better than him.”

I help him to stand and kiss his cheek. “It’s cold. Let’s get inside and warm ourselves before we get ill.”

“Yes, of course.” He takes hold of my arm as we walk back.

Even though the house is small, it is still as grand in decor as the main estate. Padraic builds a fire in the bedroom while I unpack my things, and I find my manuscript at the top of my luggage. “Did you pack this?” I ask.

“I want you to write again. I know you have been struggling,” Padraic replies. “I thought the change in atmosphere would help you.”

I pout slightly. “You knew?”

He nods. “The paper was going missing.”

I smile sweetly at him. “I am sorry. I don’t know what is wrong. I can’t find my spark.”

“The harder you blow on a spark, the more likely it is to dim,” Padraic says thoughtfully. “You must breathe gently to urge it to grow.”

“You keep surprising me with your shockingly sweet phrases.”

Padraic smiles. “Only because I want that novel for my very own.”

Days go by. The sea is dark and gloomy, stirred by cold winds and rain. I enjoy my time with Padraic, but I try to write as much as possible. Although I still struggle, I try to be patient. Finally, one day, the clouds are limned by sunlight, which rises in a golden haze from the water and dances on the waves. A warmth comes into the house, and the spark inside me returns. I spend the day completing the manuscript. By the middle of the night, I am done, and I run to Padraic to show him the pages.

He is in bed but I wake him with triumph and kiss him, showing him the bundle of new pages in my hands. “Padraic! It is done! I finished it! I finished!” I thrust the pages into his hands.

“Is that what you were doing all day?” He looks through the pages, hair disheveled and eyes still bleary with sleep. “Georgette! That is wonderful!”

I throw my arms around him. “It came back! Just as you said!” I laugh happily. “Oh, Padraic! Thank you!” I kiss him again. My jubilant pecks become harder and more demanding. His lips meet mine in hunger, and his fingers claw at me in need. I hold his face between my palms, moaning against his lips as I am brought into his lap. Is this passion? Are we going to consummate our wedding? My thoughts are many and scrambled. I have to remind myself to breathe as the kisses become longer and wetter.

“Wait!” Padraic begs for breath. “Can I read it?”

I am breathing raggedly. “Now?” He shrugs but does not let me go.

“Padraic,” I gulp. “If you are comfortable, I would like to see where this is going.”

He averts his eyes, lowering his lashes onto his cheeks again. “Georgette, I would like to as well. But I am still afraid.”

I kiss him again. “I cannot ask you to bury your fear, but I would like to hold you until it goes away.”

Padraic’s lips brush against my chest while his hands work on undoing the buttons. He pulls away my clothes, kissing bare skin, and looks into my eyes before laying me down. His fingers trail along my flesh, making me shiver. I see him trembling as he tries to remove his nightclothes. “You don’t have to...”

“I don’t want to be afraid with you.” He takes off his nightshirt, but holds his arms close to his body. I see scars on his wrists, his shoulders, his sides.

I sit up and wrap my arms around him, pressing my bare body to his. “I’ll cover you,” I whisper. “You can wear me to hide.” His back, too, is covered in countless pockmarks, incisions along the ribs, thicker scars along his thighs. “Wrap me around you like a second skin.”

Padraic buries his face against my shoulder. “Georgette, that sounds terrifying,” he laughs.

I lift his face to look at me. “You’re beautiful, Padraic.”

“Still?” His voice quivers.

I smile. “Always.”

He wipes his eyes and wraps his hands around my waist. He dips his head down, kissing between my breasts. I run my fingers through his hair, leaning my head back so his lips have more skin to touch. He lays me down again, pressing his body against mine. It feels luxurious to have his weight upon me. He kisses my neck, and I feel teeth. “Oh,” I gasp.

“Did it hurt?”

“No, I...” I clear my throat. “I have written about bites so many times, I did not think it would feel so good.”

He laughs against my skin, licking before biting again. “If you wish for sharper teeth, I can certainly give them to you.”

I stroke my hands down his back. “Do you mean the beast?”

He moans into my ear. “Would you even like such a thing?”

“Would you?”

Padraic looks into my eyes. “I’m much larger in that form. Everywhere.” I bite my lip and grin and he arches his brow at me. He pinches my cheeks with his fingers. “I do not like that look upon your face, wife. I might have to bite it off.”

“You’ll have to change your shape to do it.”

He kisses me one last time before rising off the bed. He closes the curtains as the change takes hold. Once he has transformed, he returns to the bed, heavy, furred, and growling. “I did not imagine you wanting this,” he breathes.

“My husband, can I confess that I think I may want all of you?” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Beast and beauty.”

His cold nose nuzzles between my breasts. Sharp teeth drag against skin, and he bites at my ribs. I whimper and moan in the same breath. He flips me over so my belly is against the bed and bites my shoulder and back, using his paw to hike up my hips. Positioning himself behind me, I feel him against my thighs. He’s hard and warm against my flesh, leaving a slick trail against the skin. “I’m so excited,” he chuckles. “I can barely breathe.”

I look over my shoulder at him. “Excited?”

“You want me. I did not think this would ever happen so easily. Yet, on our first night, you want all sides of me.”

“I’m very lucky I have a husband with such range.” I reach between my thighs and grab his rigid shaft in my palm. He moans loudly, thrusting his hips. I show him where to go, guiding him until he begins to slip inside. I bury my face into the pillow, whimpering at the twinge of pain.

“Georgette,” he breathes. “I’m inside, Georgette.”

“I feel it,” I moan through the pillow.

He angles my hips higher and grabs hold of my waist, pulling me back against him. I cry out, not from pain, but from surprise that I enjoy it so much. Padraic lays against my back, whispering into my ear before biting me. I arch my back against his belly, whimpering into the pillow. His body moves slowly, and he stills occasionally only to thrust again with more force. I enjoy the feeling of being filled by him. And when the final tremor comes over me, I am overwhelmed.

I wake in bed to see him reading beside me, poring over the final pages of my manuscript. “How can you stay awake like that?” I murmur weakly.

He smirks. “I am too overcome to sleep.” He looks at me and smooths the hair away from my face. “You stay the way you are. You need not worry about me.”

I rest my head on his thigh as he reads, and he strokes my hair between pages. Once he is done, he lays the manuscript aside and holds me in his arms. “How do you like it?” I ask.

“It is my favorite by far.” He kisses my neck and shoulder. “I cannot wait to hold it as a book.”

I sigh heavily. “That will never happen again, I am afraid. You will probably be the only one to ever read that book.”

“You forget, my wife - I get what I want.”

In the morning, I wake before he does and contemplate him in the light through the curtains. The scars on his body look surgical, and I touch a dark one at the center of his chest. The scars on his wrists look like the imprints of rope. They do not make him hideous as he believed. Rather, I think it helps me to see that my husband is human, beyond the werepoodle, beyond his spoiled behaviour. He is human and he hurts, and I will see everything from now on.

He wakes and flutters those beautiful lashes at me. A soft, shy smile appears on his face. “Don’t stare. It makes me feel strange.”

I pull the blanket up around him. “But I like looking at you.”

“I suppose someone has to,” he sighs heavily.

I kiss his cheek. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“I already told you my father tried to cure me. He had his doctor bury silver under my skin. I was given tonic injections, countless surgeries.” Tears float on the rim of his lashes. “But there was nothing he could do. I was born, and that was the curse.”

“Is that why he sent your mother away?”

“She meant nothing. I was his son, and it’s as simple as that,” he replies sadly.

“For how long did he torment you?” I ask.

Padraic looks into my eyes and I can see the emeralds inside. “Until he died,” he confesses. “I was sixteen.”

I take him into my arms. “Then for sixteen years, I will press love into this body.”

His hands grab hold of my back. “Can you last that long?”

“I adore you, so I will try,” I whisper to him. “Now, let me learn to love you.”

When we return home, he remakes a room into my sudy. He also gets a new dog just for me, which he trains to fetch him when I command it. I name the dog Gildi, and she sits in my lap as I write. He also gets a dog named Pepper, who comes to fetch me for him. Often, we use Gildi and Pepper to exchange notes, making them run back and forth as we have conversations on pieces of paper and note cards.

One day, Pepper brings me one such card. “Have you learned to love me yet?”

I return Gildi with a reply. “Have you learned to love me?”

Padriac steps into the room with Pepper in his arms and the note in his hand. “Georgette, my answer is yours if you have an answer for me.”

“Must you have the last word?” I smile.

“I get what I want,” he grins. He walks into the room and sets Pepper down. “So tell me your answer.”

“Padraic, my dear husband, the fact that I am willing to allow you the last word should be clue enough.” I cup his face between my palms. “But I will give you my answer fully. I have learned that I cannot stand a day without you, even when you are at your worst. I have learned a horrible lesson, and that is that I love you.”

Padraic grins smugly. “I knew it. I always get what I want.”

“You wanted me to love you?” I say with a smirk.

He bites my cheek, then kisses it. “Just as much as I love you.”

“Well, then, we both got what we wanted, didn’t we? Now, I want to see the beast. Can he come out?”

His eyes widen, and he licks his lips. “What for?”

I arch my brows at him. “You know why.”

#monsterxhuman #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster lemon #werewolf boyfriend #my writing #momolady monsters #monster fudger

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dialovers-translations · 3 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol.5 Sakamaki Kanato [TRACK 1]

Original title: ワガママ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 5 Sakamaki Kanato

Audio: Here (Huge thank you to @filthyhelplessworld for providing the audio!)

Seiyuu: Kaji Yuki

Translator’s note: The title of this track really describes the whole thing perfectly, haha. I have an insane amount of respect for all Kanato stans out there who keep up with this little brat’s selfish behavior because it couldn’t be me. However, I am excited for this CD before of the first 2-3 minutes of the track. I can already tell things are going to get intense.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

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Track 1: Selfish

The scene starts outside in the garden.

*Pshhhhhh*

*Thud*

[00:17] “Here you go. I purchased this tea because I figured it would strike your fancy. Since I decided to hold a tea party, I want to thoroughly enjoy it. Take a whiff. Does it not smell wonderful? Darjeeling is very subtle in taste, yet extremely fragrant. It fits you perfectly.”

You fail to respond.

[00:46] “Say, why would you ignore me? I prepared nothing but your favorites today, yet you won’t even say a single thank you...That’s a little strange, don’t you think? Why…? How…? I might as well just enjoy the tea party by myself then.”

You remain quiet.

[01:21] “I suppose you really won’t give me a response. ...You’re acting a little off today. Or is that just my imagination? Ahー Could it be because of that moon? The moon makes us Vampires feel restless inside. Perhaps it has the same effect on humans? Fufu...Fufufufu...Ahahaha!

*Cling*

[02:23] “Come on, you should try your tea before it gets cold. It is much more delicious when enjoyed hot after all. Take a proper look at these flowers I arranged for you!”

*Rustle rustle*

*Shatter*

“Haah...I prepared all of this for you...So be delighted...and smile…Hey? Say something! Look at me! I’m begging you…!!”

You fail to respond once more.

[03:07] “Hey...I’m talking to you…! Sniffle...Uu...WHY WON’T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?”

*SHATTER*

“Ah...Uu...Hic...Aaah...Uu...Why…!? Why!? Why!? Why!? Kuh...Why did you die…? Hey? ANSWER ME!!”

*FLASHBACK STARTS*

*Rustle*

[04:06] “Haah...Scoot a little closer. How am I supposed to suck your blood like this? Did you not hear me when I said I’m feeling unwell? Even having to sit upright in bed is rough. Are you not aware of why people come to the infirmary in the first place? You’re supposed to nurse me back to health, so be a little more considerate at least! ーー Come on, hurry!”

You walk over to the bed.

[04:47] “Took you long enough, gosh…”

You frown.

“...Hm? You’re asking if I’m upset? Hah. And what exactly makes you think that?”

You shrug.

“Hmー You choose to feign ignorance, huh?”

He looks away.

[05:11] “It’s nothing. ...More importantly, hurry up, will you? It’s difficult to drink your blood when you’re standing there, spaced out. Come closer. Don’t make me have to spell it out for you.”

You hesitate.

“...Why are you acting like that? Do you want to upset me?”

You shake your head.

“If you do not, then fix that attitude of yours.”

You finally step closer.

[05:50] “Exactly. You should have just kept quiet and obeyed me from the very beginning. ...Come on, now kneel down. I’ll suck your blood.”

*Rustle*

“Keep still? Ah…”

Kanato bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

[06:22] “Mmh…It’ll hurt if you move, remember?”

*Sluuuurp*

“Nn...Hah...Didn’t I just tell you to keep still!? Aah...Or do you want it to hurt, perhaps? Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Fufufu...~ So you actually do. You’re that kind of girl after all.”

You deny his words.

[07:01] “You don’t even know that about yourself? Well, I suppose it’s fine. I’ll be so kind as to tell you. Someone did say that humans are the most ignorant when it comes to themselves after all. I assume that goes for you as well? You see, you just love pain and suffering. Give that some serious thought (1). ...That’s why you did something which would upset me...It was on purpose, obviously!”

You shake your head.

[07:52] “Oh please, don’t play dumb now! I saw it with my own eyes! You were having a rather friendly chat with him ーー with Reiji at the manor, weren’t you? Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

“Ugh…! ...Fufu...What a forced cry! You can drop the act now. I already know you aren’t opposed to the pain, since it actually makes you feel good, doesn’t it? Did you have some fun with Reiji in a similar fashion as well? Hahn…”

*Sluuuurp*

[08:36] “...Did you think I would believe you if you denied it with tears in your eyes like that? Think again! (2) ...Mmh…”

*Sluuuurp*

You start to feel faint.

“Fufu...Are you pretending to suddenly feel faint as part of your act as well? Seems like you have become a natural at this.”

You explain.

[08:57] “You’re feeling unwell? Haha…That’s a new one.”

You ask him to stop.

“The answer is no. I’m not satisfied yet. After all, I’ve barely had any.”

You repeat that you’re feeling unwell.

[09:19] “You still insist on acting as if you’re in pain? ...CUT IT OUT ALREADY! I mean, it doesn’t make sense for this to suddenly happen, does it!? I’ve always been able to suck this much blood without any issues!

...Aah. I see. I get it now. You’re running low on blood because you let him feed off you, correct? That’s why you’re coming up with the random excuse of feeling unwell, am I right? That’s the only logical explanation! ...How dare you!”

Kanato continues to suck your blood as you protest.

[10:05] “If you’re so sure that I’m just misunderstanding things...Then why don’t you tell me straight up what you were talking about with Reiji yesterday!?”

You flinch.

“...Cat got your tongue?”

You tell him.

“You were discussing your health? ...Fufu...That’s a lie. After all, the two of you seemed rather close. Standing there together, whispering to each other.”

You look away.

“See? You’ve gone quiet again. Do you have nothing to say!?”

You apologize.

[10:50] “Kuh...Giving me a meek apology will only add to my anger, you know? ...Well, I’m broad-minded so I don’t mind letting it slide this once. However, do not dare to even get close to him again in the future. Can you promise me that?”

You nod.

*Rustle*

“...Hah!”

He pushes you away.

*Thud*

[11:25] “Oh please, you’re overreacting. I only pushed you lightly, yet you act as if you’re about to fall over. ...There’s really no need to still keep this act up though. Good grief…”

*Rustle*

“What are you spacing out for? Come on, wrap your arms around me.”

*Rustle rustle*

[11:50] “...Took you long enough to embrace me, geez. ...Stroke my head, please. I’m exhausted after sucking your blood, so it only makes sense you reward me now, right?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Exactly, just like that...More…You belong to me. All of you. From head to toe. Down to the very last drop of blood. ...Do you understand?”

You nod.

[12:33] “All you need to do is be with me. ...Forever.”

*Rustle*

“...Say? You don’t think we’re done, do you? We still haven’t discussed how you will apologize to me, have we?”

You tilt your head to the side.

[12:58] “That should be a given. You had the nerve to upset me after all. Right. I suppose I’ll have you prepare me a sweet feast. Homemade, of course. A cake doused in plenty of whipped cream, cookies, and chocolate...Oh, pudding as well!”

You agree, promising him you’ll try your best.

“Fufu~ I don’t know how they’ll turn out, however, you better make them delicious. That’s all. ...Understood?”

You nod.

“Fufufu...I’m looking forward to it~”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 胸に手を当てる or ‘mune ni te o ateru’ literally means ‘to put one’s hand on one’s chest/heart’ and is used when telling someone to think very deeply about something. (As if to look inside their own heart)

(2) 甘い or ‘amai’ doesn’t always mean ‘sweet’, but mean ‘weak’ or ‘naive’ as well.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #diabolik lover daylight #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

115 notes · View notes

deadbiwrites · 5 years ago

Note

a video of supergirl grabbing lena luthor's ass starts circulating and it's very embarrassing for sc but extremely funny to their friends

(I am SO sorry. Where do these hide? Why do I never see them? How long has this been here?!

Anyways, have some cute nonsense!)

The day starts like any other, honestly.

Like, sure, Kara’s never thrilled when she wakes up 20 minutes late and has to use superspeed to get through her morning routine and into the office on time, but it happens regularly enough that she’s just sort of used to it by now. Like, the sky is blue, the grass is green, she manages time poorly. Whatever.

But she does get to work on time, with just enough to spare that she can make a brief detour to Nia’s desk for the coffee her protege has already bought for her, thank her profusely (with perhaps minor promising of firstborn children), and slip into the morning meeting just as Snapper, James, and Lena start handing out assignments for the day.

“Well, well, good of you to join us, Ponytail. Let me guess, a family emergency kept you out all night again?”

‘I mean, that Abraxian wasn’t my family, technically, but someone’s family, so…’ “Something like that. Sorry.”

Lena catches her eye and quirks a brow in question, but Kara just shrugs easily and sips her coffee, pulling a silly face at her friend when Snapper’s attention moves away from her. When her eyes uncross, she can tell Lena is fighting not to laugh, eyes sparking with mirth as she bites her lip. Kara takes another sip of coffee, feeling a bit smug that she can get Lena to smile without even having to say anything to her. That’s real talent, right there.

Especially since Lena has to stand up at the front with James, who has been by turns cold, dejected, and surly toward her since their breakup (a big, real, final one) a few weeks prior. Lena had said that the whole thing was a mistake, that she should’ve never gone for it in the first place because she’d been right the first time- they’d had some chemistry, after all, but it certainly wasn’t compatible long-term.

Which… Kara can certainly relate. Like, a lot.

Especially about the whole… James being kind of wounded about it part. That part had really sucked- when he’d done it with Kara, who he’d gone on like, a date with, it’d resulted in him deciding to become a vigilante. Rao only knows what he’ll do when it’s someone he dated on and off for over a year...

“Ponytail!”

Kara jumps, realizing too late that her wandering attention hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Yes, sir?”

Snapper rolls his eyes. “Great, now that you’ve stopped orbiting Saturn, you wanna go get that article started?”

Kara’s eyes widen slightly in a panic as she realizes that she has no idea what he’s talking about. “Uh…” Behind his back, Lena catches her eye and nods subtly. Thank Rao. “Yes. I super do.”

Lena snorts, James sighs deeply, and the meeting is adjourned.

“So what exactly am I supposed to be doing today?” Kara asks Lena as they stroll out of the conference room together.

“Well unfortunately for you, you have to interview a big-time CEO. You have a meeting scheduled with her in three hours.”

“You?” Kara asks hopefully.

“You’re very sweet,” Lena chuckles. “No, Elena Watts. She’s a real estate developer, and she runs a nonprofit organization for homeless youth. It’s one of the articles we’re doing for next month’s spread. Contrary to popular belief, Cat and I weren’t the only women with high-profile jobs in this city. ”

“Oh, that’s pretty cool! Have you met her?”

“Not personally, no, but I have donated to her charity- it’s a very good cause, especially the outreach they do with queer youth.”

Kara elbows Lena gently. “You’re such a softie.”

“Mmm, maybe. But if you tell anyone, you’re fired.”

Kara clutches a hand to her chest, feigning horror. “Why Miss Luthor, what a blatant abuse of power!”

Lena shrugs. “I’m a Luthor, darling, I have to keep up appearances somehow.”

“Ouch,” Kara laughs. “See you at lunch?”

“Only if lunch includes a milkshake- I have a teleconference with both boards today. Unless you feel like joining me?”

“Wow, well as fun as that sounds, I’m gonna go do literally anything else.” Her comms crackle to life, alerting her of a hostage situation downtown, and Kara sighs. So much for a work day. “Alright, well, I’m, um, gonna go… see what I can find on Elena Watts. Maybe over another cup of coffee at Noonan’s.” She widens her eyes a bit, trying her best to convey that she’s going to be on Super-duty for a little while.

Thankfully, Lena picks up on it and grins. “You just want sticky buns.”

“Lena, I always want sticky buns. They’re like, my second favorite thing to eat.”

“Oh? What’s the first?” Lena asks, voice just a bit lower than usual.

Kara opens her mouth and closes it, flushing slightly as she averts her gaze and adjusts the laptop bag on her shoulder. Stuff like that has been happening more and more, and she’s not 100% sure what to do about it. Because on the one hand, it makes her stomach do flips and tie up in knots and makes her brain do this… staticky thing where nothing filters in or out, just a pleasant buzz of how funny and smart Lena is and how much Kara likes hanging out with her and being flirted with (because that’s definitely what’s been happening, even if neither of them is really ready to address it) and just generally looking at Lena.... who is currently biting her lip and grinning up at Kara, and that buzz makes her kinda dumb, which is just really unhelpful. But on the other hand, it’s also kinda awesome and Kara really enjoys it, and-

“Kara?”

She spaced out again. Crap.

“Um. What time are you free for lunch?”

Lena sighs, seeming slightly disappointed that Kara isn’t flirting back at the moment (and thank Rao Lena can’t read minds), but she smiles back easily enough as they step off of the elevator. “I should be done by two.”

Feeling emboldened, Kara turns so she’s walking backwards in front of Lena and grins. “It’s a date,” she says with a grin, ducking forward to press a quick “friendly” kiss high on Lena’s cheek. She whirls and jogs out the double doors, leaving Lena smiling exasperatedly after her.

It is genuinely baffling to Kara that people still commit crimes in National City. It’s not even an ego thing, really, since Kara tries to keep herself humble (even when she manages to wrap up a hostage situation within twenty seconds of arriving on-scene without injuring any of the criminals or damaging the building too badly). Like, yeah, she gets that there’s a certain element of crazies who just sorta gravitate to places with a local hero, the big-bads who have their own suits and geek-toys and abilities. Them, Kara gets. Kinda sorta. But the regular ones, who are armed with like, pistols? Or knives? Just regular man made stuff without even the benefit of magic or kryptonite or something?

Why?

She’s sure that if she asked, Lena would have some sort of statistical thing about large cities and poverty and all sorts of other factors that would end up making Kara feel like a jerk for being uncharitable to the criminal element of her city, but at the moment she’s mostly too annoyed by the fact that she has to spend her weekdays chasing them around instead of chasing stories.

Once all the hostages are freed and the cops secure the scene, Kara departs, flying into the alley behind Noonan’s and changing into her regular clothes before she heads inside to do a bit of research before her meeting with Elena Watts in a few hours (just because she’d used it as a cover doesn’t mean it was a bad idea…). She finds her favorite little two-person booth tucked into a quiet corner, plugs in her laptop, and gets to work, asking the waitress to please keep both the coffee and the sticky buns coming.

She gets a surprising amount done by the time she needs to leave for the interview, having a good foundation for what she wants to write and who Elena Watts is.

Ms. Watts turns out to be a pretty nice lady around Eliza’s age, if a bit busy and distracted by the steady flow of people in and out of her office. She answers all Kara’s questions with aplomb, happy to elaborate on most every point and eager to draw attention to the rising issue of homelessness among children and teens in the US.

“When I was young, my dad lost his job at the auto plant. It was supposed to be a temporary layoff, but the factory never reopened. We ended up losing the house, and we lived so far from our extended family that staying with them wasn’t much of an option. We lived in our SUV for six months, sleeping at shelters every now and again, if we could find one that allowed families to stay together. We showered at the local YMCA. Five people and a dog, living and sleeping in an old station wagon- even now, it sounds ridiculous. Eventually, we got back on our feet, but I never forgot that. It was just six months, but it was- and remains- the scariest, most uncertain time in my entire life, and it shaped me in a lot of ways I didn’t expect. And there are kids and families who do that for years. I just want to help them the way I wish that someone had been able to help us.”

At the end of the interview, Kara thanks her profusely for her time and for sharing her story before hurrying off to CatCo to type up a draft for Snapper (“What’s wrong with you, Ponytail, why is everything you bring me sappy and sentimental?”), which she finishes an outline of just in time to send it off before running to Big Belly and L-Corp for lunch with Lena.

She greets the newest in a series of secretaries (Anna? Amy? Ava? Lena’s really missing Jess, these days, but from what she’s told Kara, Jess is kicking butt in her new role as VP of Operations and will probably take over for the COO when he retires in a few years), and the girl waves her in distractedly.

And that’s when Kara’s day goes from normal to not, because inside the office are two masked men holding a stone-faced Lena at gunpoint on her balcony and demanding… something, probably. Kara’s a bit distracted by the loaded gun aimed at Lena’s head.

“Hey!” she yells, attracting both their attention. They whirl on her and Lena’s eyes widen in alarm, and Kara suddenly realizes three things- 1) she’s in her Kara Danvers clothes, not the supersuit, 2) she can’t speed into the suit now that they’re both looking at her, and 3) she has no plan.

Crap.

“Who the hell are you?!” one of them demands.

Kara… doesn’t have a good or snappy answer for that, and instead does the only thing she can think of- she throws the large milkshakes she’s carrying at them as hard as she can.

Which, in retrospect, is too hard, apparently because while yes, it is both funny and gratifying to see two grown men get absolutely leveled by a tasty dairy treat to the face, the one closest to Lena manages to elbow her in such a way that she falls backwards over the rail with an instinctual scream that makes Kara’s heart fly into her throat. She whips off her glasses, and by the time she’s out the window and speeding toward Lena’s flailing form, the suit is materialized. She gets under Lena, catching her carefully and dropping a bit further before slowing down (because she’s been made aware that when she doesn’t, the people she’s saving may as well be hitting the pavement), finally coasting to a stop about 20 feet from the ground.

Lena’s face is screwed up in a forced sort of focus, her hands clutching tightly at Kara’s shoulders and cape as she holds her breath.

“Are you okay?” Kara asks quietly.

Lena swallows thickly and nods, eyes still firmly closed. “I’m alright. Thank you- I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure how to get out of that one.”

“What was that? What did they want?”

Lena cracks an eye open. “Oh. you know, just my quarterly assassination attempt. I think my mother was starting to miss me, so she wanted to reach out.”

Kara snorts. “That really shouldn’t be funny.”

“Maybe not, but here we are.” Lena shifts a bit in Kara’s arms, cheeks a bit flushed from the adrenaline rush, and clears her throat. “Not to be rude, Supergirl, but do you think that perhaps we could continue this conversation… on the ground?”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, sorry. I forgot we were, uh, flying.”

Lena chuckles as they ascend slowly back up to her office. “You forgot you were flying?”

Kara shrugs with an easy smile. “I guess you have that effect on me.”

Lena huffs a laugh against Kara’s neck, eyes squeezed shut again. They alight on the balcony, finding the two men still unconscious, covered in Kara and Lena’s lunch. Lena sighs as Kara sets her down, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What a mess.”

“Yeah, sorry, I sorta… panicked.”

“I was so looking forward to a milkshake too…” Lena laments playfully.

“Well, then I have good news and bad news,” Kara says. She reaches out and gently wipes a bit of her own chocolate shake from Lena’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, tucking it into her mouth on instinct to get a taste of it. “The good news is, you do, in fact, have some shake on you!”

“Whats the bad news?”

“Also that you have some shake on you.” Kara laughs, gathering the two men in her arms and hefting them a bit so they’re easier to carry. “I’ll get you another one. Be right back.”

She drops the men at the police station with a brief explanation before flying back into the office. Lena hands over her discarded glasses with a wry grin.

“I figured you’d need these before the police arrive.” She’s putting on a brave front, but she’s clearly still more than a bit rattled, if her too-bright eyes and thundering heartbeat are anything to go by. Kara steps closer and opens her arms in invitation, and Lena doesn’t hesitate to step into them. “Thank you,” Lena says fervently, tucking her face into Kara’s shoulder and wrapping her arms tight around Kara’s waist.

“Always,” Kara promises, daring to press a reassuring kiss to Lena’s temple (and getting a bit of Lena’s strawberry shake for her troubles) before wrapping her up even tighter in her arms. “Are you actually okay?”

“I mean, my fear of heights has been reaffirmed,” Lena jokes, “but aside from that, I’m not hurt.”

“Good. I don’t like, love people pointing guns at you. Just so you know.”

“I’m not a fan either, for the record,” Lena drawls, burrowing even closer. “Even though I know you’ll save me, it still puts a damper on my day.”

Kara huffs a laugh. “Same.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, until Lena’s calmed down enough to stop shaking and calls her assistant (Audra, apparently) in, telling her what’d happened and that the police would be arriving shortly to take her and Kara’s statements, and please advise the security team to let them up discreetly. After the cops arrive, it’s a blur of questions, and Kara has to concentrate on telling the story of how she’d panicked and thrown the milkshakes at the men, and one of them had knocked Lena over the balcony (all true), and Kara had yelled for Supergirl, who had knocked the men out on her way to Lena (also technically mostly true. Technically. Mostly.). The police are sure to tell Kara that next time, she shouldn’t throw things at people with guns, and also to tell them both how lucky they are that Supergirl had shown up when she did.

“She’s always there when I need her,” Lena agrees, throwing a sly wink over the officer’s shoulder at Kara.

Kara just shakes her head and smiles. Even almost dying isn’t enough to make Lena not flirt with her. The woman is truly a marvel.

Kara’s comms crackle again, accompanied by Alex’s custom ringtone on her cell, and after assuring the police that she has no issue with giving another statement if they need her to later, hurries over to the DEO (making a quick stop in the back alley to change into her suit).

When Kara arrives, she’s told that J’onn and Alex are waiting for her in the Directors’ offices. She makes her way there, waving to the agents and scientists she knows. But it’s very weird, because every time one of them sees her, they start giggling before quickly hurrying off in the opposite direction. Like, literally everyone is whispering and pointing and giggling, and it’s giving Kara such visceral flashbacks to high school that it’s all she can do to not check her cape for a taped on sign that says ‘Kick me’ or ‘Freak’.

(Kids are mean.)

By the time Kara gets to her destination, she’s fully paranoid, sure that someone’s playing a prank on her, somehow, and that everyone but her is in on the joke. She opens the door with more force than intended and catches it just before the handle puts a hole in the wall, throwing Alex and J’onn a sheepish smile. She closes the door extra gently and leans against it heavily. J’onn and Alex just stare at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Busy day, Supergirl?” Alex asks, and after half a lifetime of spending time with her, Kara recognizes that she, too, is trying not to laugh.

Kara’s had enough. “Okay, do I have something on my face? Or on the suit? Is someone messing with me?”

J’onn’s brow furrows. “No.”

“Then what’s the deal? Why is the entire DEO like… laughing at me? Did someone accidentally vent the lab fumes out into the main hub again?”

“No.”

“Did someone see me crash into that billboard last week?”

J’onn’s frown deepens. “What?”

“No,” Alex answers.

“Then why is everyone laughing at me?!”

“I mean, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s because of that,” Alex muses, nodding toward the big TV on the wall beside Kara.

She steps back to watch the news coverage of her dealing with the hostage situation this morning and frowns. “What, those guys? That was routine, what’s so funny about tha-”

“No, no, not that. That,” Alex clarifies, cranking up the volume.

“...reports are saying that the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor, experienced an attempt on her life early this afternoon. Sources claim that she fell from a considerable height-”

“Hey, she was pushed,” Kara corrects.

“Shh!”

“...caught by Supergirl, who may have gotten a little… familiar with her.”

And there’s a video (clearly recorded on a cell phone but not the worst quality Kara’s ever seen) of Kara catching Lena and slowing to a stop above the sidewalk, of them talking quietly, of Kara’s hand definitely on Lena’s-

“Oh. Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Alex drawls, clicking the TV off with relish, a large, evil-big-sister grin spreading across her face. “Congratulations, Supergirl- the world just watched you grope Lena Luthor’s ass.”

“But I’m not- I wasn’t groping, I was catching! My hands weren’t… If it was groping, I’d be all up on her, and I wasn’t!”

“Camera begs to differ. It’s already trending on Twitter in National CIty.”

Kara puts her head in her hands and groans. “Why?! I was trying to save her!”

“You were definitely trying to save part of her,” Alex agrees. “Granted, it’s a very nice part...”

Kara’s head pops up, and she shoots Alex a look that’s between a pout and a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Alex feigns confusion. “Am I supposed to be helping?”

“Alright, enough,” J’onn cuts in before Kara can retort. “We just wanted you to be aware. I don’t think that this is going to be taken for anything more than it is- a humorous moment in the middle of a successful rescue. You shouldn’t worry about the press.”

And truth be told, Kara isn't worried about the press- she’s worried about the fact that she’s going to have to face Lena after this. Lena, who she knows for a fact has google alerts set for herself, Kara Danvers, and Supergirl, a gesture which is normally actually sweet and kind but is right now definitely gonna bite her in the-

“Okay! So, is that all?”

Alex blinks, looks over at J’onn, and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Try not to make a habit of groping your crush when you’re in the suit.”

“I wasn’t groping her-”

Alex grins. “So you admit you have a crush? Interesting…”

“Alex!”

J’onn’s prediction is mostly right- no one seems to be taking the shots of her grabbi- saving Lena as anything other than a funny blip of a moment in their coverage of it.

He was wrong about the sheer scale. The clip had gone totally viral in a matter of hours, and seemingly every major network in the country has run the clip at least once as a bit of filler-fluff, and almost every major network anchor (including the ones at CatCo, the traitors) has made at least a passing joke about Supergirl being ‘Super-Handsy'.

Which means that Kara is very late getting back to Lena’s office with replacement food. But like, she’s been busy, okay? It’s not like she’s avoiding Lena, or something, because she’s embarrassed- which she isn’t, because she didn’t do anything bad or wrong and-

Anyways, it’s well past sunset by the time Kara gets to Lena’s office door again. She hesitates outside it for just a moment before shouldering the door open and knocking tentatively.

Lena’s attention jerks from whatever she’d been absorbed in to Kara, and a relieved smile blooms across her face. “Hey there.”

Kara finds herself equally relieved to not experience a repeat performance of earlier scary situations. “Hi,” Kara says, unable to resist smiling back. She raises the bags and cup carrier. “I bring grease and milkshakes. Again.”

“Oh thank god, I’m starving,” Lena says, rolling her chair away from her desk and rising into a deep and probably much-needed stretch. Kara very determinedly does not stare at the slight sliver of soft tummy that appears between her blouse and skirt at the motion. “I’ve been staring at this screen for several hours. And Sam called to yell at me- she says hello, by the way- she and Ruby are in town next weekend.”

“Good!” Kara crosses the room to the couch as Lena does, easily spreading out the veritable buffet of fast food she’d brought over the coffee table. “I mean, not good that she yelled at you, or that you’re still at work, Miss Luthor,” she says pointedly, receiving only an unapologetic shrug in response. “But good that, um-”

“I get it,” Lena chuckles, resting a hand lightly on Kara’s knee and boy, if that doesn’t make Kara’s brain go fuzzy and dumb again… “Thank you, for checking in.”

“Of course I was gonna check on you, Lena,” Kara huffs. “Plus, I know you probably didn’t get lunch, so…”

Lena hums around a mouthful of burger, chewing until she can politely speak again. “Well it’s delicious. Did you make it yourself?” she teases with a sly grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally. Slaved away over a hot stove for this- I just wrapped it in Big Belly wrappers so you wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

“Very clever.” Lena pops the lid off of her milkshake and drags a fry through it (an advanced culinary delicacy Kara had horrified her with initially but had eventually become a bit of a guilty pleasure). “Although I have to say, traditionally you’d have to buy me dinner before you grabbed my ass.”

Kara chokes on a pickle. “Oh no,” she groans, dropping the burger onto the wrapper on the table and dropping her very red face into her hands as Lena laughs beside her. She peers out from between her fingers. “I am so sorry, I was just worried about you hitting the pavement and like, catching you in the least jarring way and I wasn’t paying attention to where my hands were and I didn’t even notice until I got back to the DEO and-”

“Well I have so say, I feel a bit offended that you didn’t even realize you were copping a feel...” When the only response is another groan and a deep flush spreading from Kara’s neck to the tips of her ears, Lena relents. “Kara, Kara, it’s fine!” she laughs, pulling Kara’s hands away from her face and giving them a grounding squeeze. “Nia’s been sending me memes about it all day, which has improved my mood significantly. On the grand scale of fallout from assassination attempts, this one was at least funny.”

“I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but all it makes me wanna do is wrap you in bubble wrap forever,” Kara informs her.

“Pass on that. But seriously, don’t worry about it- I know it wasn’t on purpose- unfortunately for me, you’re too noble to do something like that,” Lena laments playfully.

And whether it’s the knowledge that Lena is not, in fact, upset, the overall weirdness that has been this day, or this delicious burger fueling it, Kara feels a bit emboldened. “Hey Lena…”

“Yes?”

“What if I wanted to grab your butt? Just, y’know, as a hypothetical. For future reference.”

Lena quirks a brow at her, fighting a smile as she contemplates this. “Hmm. Strictly hypothetically?”

Kara scoots a bit closer on the couch. “Sure.”

“Well, you’ve already bought me dinner…”

“And lunch, technically. Even if I gave it to the bad guys.”

“True. Plus you saved my life, so that gets you some points, probably.”

Kara pauses in her sly scooching. “Oh, hey, wait, no, that’s not-”

“Kidding, Kara. I know you’d never use that to your advantage. I, however, have determined that strong moral fibre and nobility do, in fact, earn you more points, which is my choice on the matter and you get absolutely no say in it.”

“Oh. Um, alright, I think.”

Lena stares off into the middle distance, tapping her forefinger thoughtfully against her chin. Finally she shrugs. “Yes, I think you’re fulfilled the prerequisites for a bit of grab-ass today.”

Kara snorts, Lena laughs, and soon enough Kara takes her up on the offer.

“Hey Kara, remember that time you grabbed Lena’s ass and it made international news?” Nia asks around a mouthful of mushu pork.

“You mean last week? Yes, I remember,” Kara drawls. Beside her/halfway sitting on her lap, Lena snorts.

“That was the best.”

Alex glares. “Um, excuse you, no. No it was not. I had to sift through so much thirsting over my sister on like, every social media platform. It was the worst day of my life.”

Brainy’s brow furrows. “Surely that cannot be correct, Alex. Statistically speaking-”

Alex holds up a hand, cutting him off. “Trauma can’t be measured, Brainy.”

Kelly chuckles and presses a consoling kiss to Alex’s cheek, and it makes the tough agent melt into a doe-eyed puddle of mush that Kara snorts. And she says they’re gross... Kara sneaks a glance at Lena from the corner of her eye, and she catches Lena looking at her. She leans close and jostles her gently as she drops her head onto Lena’ shoulder. “We’re never gonna live that down, are we?”

“Probably not.”

“We have the worst friends.” When this elicits nothing but a chuckle, Kara tips her head back to see Lena still looking at her, a soft smile playing at her mouth and shining in her eyes. And like, this whole thing they’re doing is new, with the kissing and the actual dates and the... everything else. But the thing where Kara catches Lena looking at her and she doesn’t look away? That freakin’ knocks her out, every single time. “Hey,” she manages.

Lena grins down at her. “Hi.”

So yeah. Maybe the initial circumstances weren’t ideal, and she doesn’t love the mockery that’s been heaped upon her by all of her friends and loved ones (including Winn, who’d sent a missive from the future that literally just said ‘LOL’). But the fact is, Kara muses as she surges up just enough to kiss the corner of Lena’s mouth, that she doesn’t regret a thing.

#supercorp #prompts!#asks open #ask response #supergirl fanfic #kara x lena #humor #idiots #international news about idiots #kara danvers #lena luthor #i'm also deeply sorry that this is so long on mobile #i swear there's a read more that's supposed to be there #but alas

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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

Text

Title: The Village

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki returns again, this time manipulating you into becoming involved with infighting between mortals. Yet with some goals of his own fulfilled in the end results. Guest appearance in this chapter by the god Eros.

Warnings: *Smut near the end of the chapter* Beginning and end of smut is marked in red within the chapter for those who wish to skip it.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername

My Masterlist

——————————

It was a little over three weeks later before anything else had happened. But you’d tried very hard to remain reasonable with your daydreaming in the time between. Because Loki owed you nothing after all.

It would have been far easier to write off your experience with him as just brief acts of lust that any two beings could experience. Yet, you’d found yourself thinking just as much about those quiet hours sitting beside him with a book in your hand as you did that very physical night in the cave together. The parts were equal in your mind. You desired to have both again, because all of it was him.

The real surprise was still there though when word finally reached you that he’d again returned to the ocean’s edge. You could not take a moment for granted. And you wouldn’t, even as each time he came you found your excitement only grew. That warmth that rose through you at just the sound of his name only came quicker and lasted longer every time.

Yet today had also been the first where he hadn’t called from that southern beach where you’d met all the times previous. This fourth meeting actually came in the north. From the lands you would have more associated with the legends of his family to begin with.

Even though the bifrost could open wherever he asked it to you supposed, your curiosity still swelled predictably as you stepped out of the icy waters onto these more foreign black sands. It was rocky, and the sky only grey above as you first saw him standing there near the water’s edge.

And you did stare, seeing his normal black and green leather now replaced with golden armor and a flowing emerald cape. He was in full adornment this time, including that horned helmet you’d only seen in artists’ renderings from the books you’d studied before.

It suited him well, though making a stark contrast between the two of you you were sure as you only stood before him barefoot and dripping wet in one of your usual dresses.

“Are you off to battle?” You asked in genuine question, still taking that view in.

He just smirked though, seeming to be staring at you as well. “Don’t you ever get cold running around so uncovered like that?”

“I feel the cold, yes. But it doesn’t harm me.” You answered simply, though still looking at him expectantly as he’d ignored your own question.

He just turned after another moment though, beginning to walk back up the bank. “I’m only here on an errand for Father. Normally this foolishness would be something I’d decline. But with Odin and brother both off battling in Alfheim, it left Father no choice but to send his second option of course.”

You were already walking as well then, following him without even being asked. He made it all sound so uninteresting though. And if he didn’t even want to be here, then why would he have called you as well then?

A path cut between the cliff face that edged the shoreline, and before you could ask anything further, you were surprised to see a large mortal village coming into view further up the path. You stopped immediately, hesitating at the sight.

But he noticed as you did so, only looking back at you tauntingly as he paused as well. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now?”

What was he planning to do? You tried to keep your contact with mortals limited save for whatever your own father asked you to do, as directly interfering in the wrong ways could sometimes lead to serious consequences. You honestly shirked the attention, often not even letting them lay eyes on you unless you were under the guise of something else.

“Are you planning to make yourself known to them?” You asked a bit incredulously.

“Well of course. How else should they know who to thank when we’re done here?” He answered as if it was only the most obvious thing in the world before he just continued ahead without you.

His stride was so confident. Not a trace of feeling out of place at all even as you couldn’t bear it any longer, transforming yourself into an osprey just to fly nervously along up above him before you could be seen.

Yet he didn’t seem surprised, only a slight smugness in his expression as he glanced up at you briefly in your new form.

That was before the mortal soldiers erupted out at the edge of the settlement anyway. Their yelling brought Loki’s attention back to the path, and you circled in the sky, trying to interpret the words.

Their tone was so much gruffer and faster, harder for you to translate in realtime.

But Loki’s elegant, almost indifferent tone of response you understood far better as he only answered back in that same Nordic tongue.

“Unleash those arrows upon me, beasts, and you’ll find them quite wasted. Are you really so inept as to not recognize your own savior now standing before you?”

With that, he extended out his arms in a grandiose gesture of self importance. Yet the movement proved to be more than just empty posing as you then saw all their arrows fall to the ground as writhing snakes.

The illusion was extremely convincing, even these burly men startling in surprise at the sight.

“Sorcery!” One of them called, though rightly looking no more trusting at the revelation.

“What clan do ye hail from? State your purpose here, sorcerer!” Another said.

Even from this distance, you could see the brief look of exasperation as Loki rolled his eyes. “Has my brother really been away from Midgard so long that you now fail to recognize the house of Odin at all? Such disrespect.”

It was only the mention of Odin’s name that brought an all new nervousness to the men’s body language.

And that edge of newfound fear clearly pleased Loki. “Oh, now things are finally coming together! But seeing is believing, isn’t it boys?”

In an instant then, there was not just one of him, but multiple as replicant images of Loki suddenly surrounded the men. His voice echoing as it came from each, “Odin the Allfather has answered your prayers, I, Loki, god of Asgard shall spare your clan and this village from your enemy’s approach.” His cold smirk returned. “But I require your full allegiance in return of course.”

The fear was really evident in their faces then, but in your own mind you doubted the duplicate images were anything tangible. They likely couldn’t harm the men, only the real Loki could. But the trickery was sufficient as in your surprise, you saw the men fall to their knees one after the other.

And the most genuine grin you’d ever seen on Loki’s face spread instantly at that. He actually chuckled, an honest, happy sound as the men’s heads also bowed.

“Forgive us, Loki, god of mischief.” The oldest looking of the men spoke humbly then. “No one here has laid eyes on a god of Asgard in our lifetimes. We only know the legends our ancestors have taught us, of your victories at Odin’s side across the nine realms. Our loyalty does still lay with you, son of Odin.”

“Finally, a wise man speaks.” Loki answered, still pleased before continuing. “You must be the clan chief. Listen to your elders, boys. And remember it was only Loki who came here today. Not Odin, not Thor. Me. That should be noted in your carvings from now on. Those little hammers embellished on your shields gave you no help today. Mjolnir hears not your pleas.”

And still circling above in your bird of prey form, it was only then that you did notice those emblems on their shields as well. It was clear no details escaped Loki.

“Thor forgets you, too occupied in the happenings of the other realms, but I, merciful as I am do not.”

You may have sighed at that, if you’d been physically capable anyway. He was clearly enjoying this now. But out the corner of your vision, something else caught your eyes as you turned sharply back into the wind.

Sails. Large white sails approaching over the ocean’s horizon. You suddenly remembered Loki’s comment then about sparing this place from their enemy’s approach. But now your nervousness only returned full force as you swooped back down towards him.

Did he really plan to interfere in a coming battle here? Maybe he had permission to do so, but you absolutely did not!

You chirped sharply, but realized quickly he could not understand you in this form. Not like the nymphs could. He seemed amused though at your evident agitation as he offered his forearm. You landed awkwardly on his arm, talons closing around the armor there as you spread your wings to maintain your balance.

He leaned his face in slightly though, speaking only to you in your native Greek. “Was it that many boats then? They’re only marauders. I’m sure your father won’t mind if you kill a few. All you’d need say is that these Norse folk had shown you hospitality, and then these other fools attacked. What else were you to do? And regardless, I’ve already promised our protection to them.”

Our? Your eyes stared holes into him at that. You had promised nothing. This was beyond ridiculous. Yet even in your annoyance, you knew deep down that there were still rules of etiquette that had been bred into you. Ones that couldn’t be ignored when it came to dealings with other gods. If he told them he would do something, while expecting your help to make it happen, and then you let him fail...it could only make them lose further faith in all your kind.

Which even Zeus himself would have admitted that lack of respect as a worsening problem with every successive mortal generation. They believed less and less.

“If you let their boats reach the shore, they’ll happily kill every last man and child on this soil. Only the younger women would live, albeit would they really wish to once they’re sold off like livestock?” Loki added, almost chipper even in those dark words.

You gave the side of his helmet a good, harsh peck, making him turn his face away in reflex before you finally took flight again.

God of mischief indeed. What were you really getting yourself into if you only kept showing him that you were here for whatever use he saw fit?

Though you had somewhat told him that hadn’t you? Back on the beach that day. That whatever kind of relationship he desired with you, you would address the needs as you came to them. You’d more meant in the sense of possibly becoming closer than friends of course. More like that night in the cave. But this...what in Gaia’s name was this?

You pumped your wings hard, then flying back over the sea as you neared the boats and quickly counted them. How many would you have to destroy in order to break their morale?

The quicker you could get this done though, the better. Any kind of prolonged battle may only attract more onlookers, increasing the chances of you having to explain these uncomfortable motivations with your father soon.

Tucking your wings in, you dove suddenly, the only difference between you and a real osprey being that as soon you hit the water, you didn’t surface again. You regained the form of a woman once more, sinking beneath the boats even as you raised your arms towards them.

It took real concentration, especially when your emotions were still all over the place. But the previously calm seas did eventually start to churn. As you clenched your fists, the whirlpools began to tighten around first one, then two, then three of the longships

That should be well enough you thought to yourself. Even from below you could hear the wood snapping as the hulls began to give. Once the boats listed past the point of no return, the masts began to snap as well, the large canvas that was the sails crashing down to the water below and billowing out.

The sunlight cut through the fabric, making the strangest shadows as you swam back from under it. You noted that these men were fairly capable swimmers as well as the fallen began to make their own ways back to the surface.

You left their survival to chance, not trying to pull them any further down, but not helping them either as they swam for rescue towards the remaining boats.

The nymphs that had followed you to this shore also kept things hands off, merely watching in a mix of awe and confusion from beneath the water. But you didn’t have time to explain, only nodding your acknowledgement towards them. They would have to wait.

But you weren’t sure what you were really going to tell them either as you only changed back into the osprey then, breaking the surface before you flapped hard enough to leave the water entirely. You simply glided back towards shore once you caught the wind again.

Loki now stood expectantly on the beach, far more men than you had seen earlier gathered behind him. Dumbstruck expressions graced all the mortals faces as that prince of Asgard only offered you his arm once more.

You landed on his forearm again, making sure to fluff your wet feathers hard enough to throw some seawater on him. Just because you’d done what he’d wanted didn’t mean your frustration was at all over. Conversations would definitely be had.

But he only smiled even as that bit of cold water ran back down his neck and beneath his armor, further annoying you before he whispered then. “Quite a performance. But don’t act as if I won’t be rewarding you later. The day is still young.”

Yet you could only ponder the meaning behind such words, as you were then the one who had to endure several more hours of the village’s praises for Loki instead.

When the marauders had indeed retreated, fading back from sight, all the mortals had come out to rejoice. The ones who had witnessed it all firsthand, recounted the events with excitement again and again to all those others who came to listen.

You’d ended up in their mead hall, candles burning in the dim structure as it filled with the smell of cooked meat and the raucous noise of the townspeople. Men, women, and even the children all filled the hall in celebration.

Loki of course sat at the head of the long feast table as the guest of honor, quite comfortable you thought in their most ornate chair as you only perched on one of its armrest beside him. In the candlelight, the shadows danced around the edges of his face and helmet.

Even in this bird form, you thought he caught you staring at him a few times though. But what else did you have to do? You couldn’t speak, and you still didn’t want to reveal your true self to these strangers. You kept hoping he’d have his fill of the attention at some point, where you’d finally be able to leave again.

But that was wishful thinking surely. Though you did put your attention back to the mortals as the clan chief had made his way to the both of you.

He bowed respectfully, “Prince Loki, I wished to inform you that I have spoken to our carpenters and they believe the building you requested could be finished within two months time.”

Your confusion may have even translated through your body language then as your head tilted and your feathers ruffled. The what?

But Loki didn’t add any elaboration to the subject, only seeming pleased. “Good.” He said simply.

And before you could show any further displeasure at being left in the dark, you saw that mortal leader then looking at you specifically with curiosity.

“If it is not too much a question, prince...” He started, yet treading carefully. “I have heard the stories of the Allfather and his ravens Huginn and Muninn. But I did not know you too possessed a bird, and of such ability. What is its name? It’s quite beautiful.”

His words were unexpected, but the greater surprise was the feel of Loki’s fingers then down your neck and back, physically petting you as if you really were just some adored companion.

You startled, chirping as you turned your head to nip his hand in reflex.

Loki only grinned once more though, moving his fingers out of your reach just as quickly. “Oh, she’s quite proud. Which she should be. Father’s birds are only spies. This bird you see here is...” Loki gave you a sly look, as if teasing that he would reveal you in that very moment. But he didn’t, just glancing back to the man instead. “I call her Kærr.”

Who? You stared. So he was just making up names for you now? And you didn’t even recognize the word as you racked your brain to try and remember a meaning for it in the Norse words you’d read.

But you couldn’t. It could mean fool for all you knew. Little fool who just followed Loki, letting themselves be used in all the dumbest ways.

——————————

At last, the festivities had finally begun to wane and Loki had stood. The mortals all praising him once more as he’d made some speech about needing to return to Asgard, but now being a protector of this town as long as they kept their loyalty to him.

You were truthfully tired by now. Not so much physically, but mentally from the run of emotions you’d had to deal with in silence over the last several hours.

It was fully nighttime when he’d finally walked out of view from the village, now deep in some dark forest, probably heading towards wherever he planned to reopen the bifrost.

When you were confident that no mortals had followed though, you at last landed on the forest floor in front of him, changing back into your true form of a woman.

“Start talking. Now.” You breathed. The anger you’d wanted to express earlier though just sounded like exasperation. But you had so many questions.

He paused, the bits of moonlight that broke through the tree canopy, now glinting white off his armor as he grinned.

“You do have patience, goddess. But I didn’t ask you to trap yourself in the form of a bird all day, let’s remember that firstly.” And he only walked closer to you at that, seemingly all too confident that you wouldn’t attack him just in spite now. “Secondly, I did this for the both of us.”

“For us?” You asked incredulously.

“Well you were too shy to take proper credit of course, which again, not my fault. But I told them this town was under our protection-”

“And you’ll just go back to Asgard and leave me to deal with it! If a god goes back on their word, you know how that makes us all look. I didn’t ask to adopt a village today!”

Yet he was unbothered even as your voice rose. “You’ll do wonderfully. Don’t pretend you don’t have a weakness for these creatures. I’ve seen how you pity them. Consider them your new pets, my gift to you.”

But you scoffed, still so disbelieving. “You’re mad. And really, did Odin even send you here? Or was that more fantasy as well?”

Yet the more flustered you got, the more amused he started to look. “Well, the village leader’s great, great, great something or other ancestor actually was a friend of my Father’s. They fought side by side once. But no, Father doesn’t know I’m here. He’s in Alfheim, as I said.”

But Loki knew it’d give you more inclination to go along with things surely if Odin’s name was attached. Didn’t he? “And the marauders?” You asked as your questions only continued.

He just smirked. “That probably would have happened on its own eventually. There’s a lot of bad blood there apparently. But I’m not as patient as you. That did need a little goading.”

You sighed. “Which you provided I’m sure. Did you pass word to them that this village was preparing to attack them?”

“Oh, something like that.”

“Okay, but why? They say you like chaos, but I haven’t seen you do anything yet that wasn’t for a reason.”

“I already told you. This is for us.” He only reiterated.

“And I still don’t believe it. What building was that man talking about making? A shrine to you? A temple?”

“A house.” He corrected.

“A...what?” You stared.

“Well, not what I’d consider a real one. It had to be quite small unfortunately, or else it’d take them a year or more to build. But nearby, up on this hill actually is where it will be. I told them we’d need a place to stay when in the mortal realm. And if they kept it well maintained, our protection would continue.”

You were finally silent for a few moments then, thoughts spinning furiously. Madness was right. Did he really...did he really plan all this for just this reason? “So, is that why you did all this?” You asked at last.

“I’d prefer not to just meet in wet, muddy caves for the foreseeable future if it’s all the same to you.” He answered with a little air of haughtiness returning.

But you weren’t ready to trust yet. Not where it really counted. “And should I be flattered? Or is there a ‘house’ like this in every realm for you?”

For those words though, even in the moonlight you could see a greedier look come into his eyes as he tilted his head, examining you once more. “Hmm. That’s new. But as fetching as jealousy is on you...you’re wrong. My only other bed would be in Asgard. And I don’t waste my time trying to fill it.”

Jealous? Is that what he thought? You opened your mouth as if to retort, but realized anything you could think to say in defense would only make him sound more correct.

“This is ridiculous.” Was all you finally said. Not knowing how to really express anything further.

“And what else would you really have done so important today if I hadn’t come?” He smirked, reaching a hand out.

He held your chin lightly then, making you realize how close he’d really moved to you in the time you’d been talking.

“You already forgot what I promised didn’t you?” He asked more quietly then.

Your look in return said that you clearly had before he just continued.

“Your reward.” He spoke, before leaning in to kiss you.

You tensed, but didn’t pull away. Such arrogance you still managed to think though, him acting as if his touch alone would erase every negative feeling and upset of the day.

But life was now more complicated than you’d ever known before. Even if this didn’t make everything alright and forgiven...you didn’t want him to stop either as you eventually returned the kiss, leaning further into him. After his hand let go of your face, you felt his arms slide around your waist next, pulling you to him tightly.

It wasn’t as fully desperate, as hungry as that night in the cave. But there was still a clear need there, tasting him all over again as he kissed you again and again.

“I have to return to Asgard.” He breathed eventually though, yet looking at you with body language that didn’t at all match his words as he hadn’t loosened his grip at all. “But speak up, goddess. Would it be more insult just to leave, or to only be quick this time in taking something we both want?”

“Are you, are you asking me...” You were trying to catch up with his thought process. It was late in the night, and he’d already been gone from his kingdom all day. He may be lying still, but it was very possible he had already overstayed whatever time he’d intended to be here. Especially if Odin and Thor really were in another realm right now. Loki’s absence would only be that more evident to his people. So he was about to leave, but he wanted to know if you wanted him to...jump to the finish before he left you?

“Why is it so hard for you to say?” He pushed, moving his hips against you slightly to further his intention.

“I will not be your whore, Loki. That much must be understood.” You replied. Not angrily, but still serious enough to show your sincerity in that statement as you found your voice again.

Yet he just laughed, a genuine one at that. “Just when I think you can’t surprise me any further...you go and say something so foolish.”

But he’d already grabbed your wrist before you could slap him, then continuing. “Calm your temper. I only laugh because you keep assuming so much. If there’s a whore here tonight, it would only be me of course.”

The resulting confusion in your eyes only seemed to encourage him too as he smiled again. “I know it’s not just fucking you want. And there will be more time later to explore that. But gods, woman, I left an empty throne sitting there in Asgard today just for a chance at this. How else could that not make me a whore tonight?”

You really didn’t know at this point, if all his words were only meant to manipulate you further, or if he was actually being truthful right now.

“You make my head hurt.” You grumbled at last, just running your hand down the armor on his chest until it reached his waist.

“You make my...well, I think you can assume what part of me hurts right now.” He just smirked at your resulting expression, his hands starting to bunch up your dress a little. “What? Too crude? I could change into a woman just as easily you know, if you rather something a little different.”

“I thought you said you wanted to make this quick.” You retorted. As in your mind, working up a woman to full arousal would be far more time consuming if your own body was any indication. While men were up and ready at a moment’s notice weren’t they?

“You imply that I can’t have you trembling just as fast then?” He said, seeming to accept the challenge when you didn’t stop him from further raising your dress.

* SMUT STARTS HERE

You’d only expected to feel one of his hands back between your legs next. So when he abruptly dropped to his knees in front of you instead, you were truly shocked.

You felt his hands on your bare waist, keeping your dress bunched up and out of the way as he glanced back up at you briefly, a wicked look in those blue eyes. How someone could look so predatory, even while on their own knees, you did not know.

All you could do was gasp as you felt his mouth meet your opening roughly, sucking you before his tongue quickly flicked out, so much like a snake against the sensitive flesh.

It was so surreal really, the cool metal of the horned helmet also brushing and scraping against your skin as its master moved obscenely in his attempts to unravel you.

Reflexively, your hips also tried to squirm away from his pressing mouth, so sensitive to the roughness as he went back to sucking what was already becoming swollen. But he’d allow none of it. He only gripped you harder, fingers digging into your soft bottom to keep you against him.

He was going to win. How this had even become a contest, you were not sure. But pride or not, your legs were already feeling like jelly. He would win.

“Loki,” You pleaded, nothing to really brace yourself against as your own knees started to bend.

But he didn’t stop, no. He only pressed even faster at your desperation, tongue flicking and probing over and over, mouth sucking for what felt like ages. But you knew it really couldn’t have been that long at all. Embarrassingly short even before you shuddered harshly, the orgasm cutting through you.

Even in those little aftershocks though, you could feel his teeth as he smiled against you. But he didn’t let go of you, helping you stay upright even as he stood back up himself. “Was that fast enough for you?” He taunted lowly, lips still clearly wet in the moonlight from you before he moved you almost gently backward.

Your back found a large tree trunk behind you, the bark gladly smooth as it helped further support you while he pushed your dress back upward again.

Your eyes met again as you felt him abruptly slide into you at that. He was still fully dressed, but at some point as he’d stood, he’d opened just his pants, that hard flesh now fully sheathing back inside of you before he began to thrust.

It was steady this time, slower, but still forceful as he watched your expression every time he reached that deepest point.

“Do you think you could get used to this?” He asked, breath still a bit labored, likely just from his own arousal.

You knew your own heartbeat was still pounding in your ears, so you could only imagine that his was now doing much the same as you kissed him again.

The taste was strange, still the remnants from you of course, but you didn’t mind it.

“I could.” You did answer though when you pulled back slightly again.

But you didn’t know how this would really work. Would you just keep meeting here now whenever he wanted to see you? The mortals would make some sort of cabin? Room? What have you, for you to stay in? Is this really what he wanted? Wouldn’t he only grow bored of the novelty eventually?

Either that, or one of your families may end up intervening. This couldn’t be kept just to the two of you indefinitely. Heimdall already knew of you of course.

There were still so many questions.

Yet he only seemed focused on the here and now as he finally shuddered against you as well and you felt that tell tale wetness of his cum overflowing slightly down your thigh.

His hands ran up under your dress still, not seeming to want to let go even as he continued to watch you as his own orgasm dissipated.

“...It may be a while before I can return. The mess in Alfheim I don’t see as being resolved soon.” He spoke after a few more moments, breaking the silence.

And he did slide back out of you then, covering himself back within his pants once more after his hands finally let go of you to let your dress also fall back down around your legs.

*SMUT OVER

He continued though, not leaving your side just yet. “Father’s already been gone over a week now, brother too. Technically putting the kingdom in my care for now. I used the excuse of those marauders attacking this village with old connections to Father as a reason to come check on Midgard today. I don’t quite think Mother believed my motives either. The two of you would likely get along well in your odd combination of suspicion yet fondness for me you know.”

Fondness he said. That was some kind of word for it. But you weren’t sure it was the right one. “If you’ve never had much interest in my world before, then yes, I’m sure anyone would be doubtful.” Of course he’d never spoken of his mother to you. Maybe eventually you could learn more. But not tonight as you realized time was finally up.

As he pulled away, his hand only brushed yours gently, that green cape moving behind him as he walked away. “Goodnight, goddess.”

There was a clearing in the distance, evidently carved earlier from the bifrost as he stepped into the opening and called up to Heimdall.

It was only at that moment though that you remembered one more thing. You yelled out to him suddenly, so he would still hear you at this distance. “Wait, what does Kærr mean!?”

But even from this far you could still see his smug smile spreading before the light of the bifrost overtook him and he was gone.

“Dammit.” You said to no one. This would cause you a whole new trip to the library on Olympus you were sure. All for one simple word.

——————————

It wasn’t until days later that you did make it back to Olympus though. You’d had to apologize to a couple of the nymphs, asking them to keep an eye on that town for you. Your apparent new charity project that Loki had left you with.

Now in the library you’d been pouring over the few more detailed Norse language texts you could find. It’d been much easier the last time you’d been here, when you’d just been trying to learn the gist of Asgard’s history and the very basics of their language. Trying to find the definition of one specific word however proved far more tedious.

But you did finally come across it.

Kærr: Dear, of great value or excellence, precious, beloved-

And you couldn’t read any further, a strange emotion flaring as you’d exclaimed, “Oh, bullshit!” instantly closing the book back shut, then sitting there a moment as this new information settled over you.

He had to be kidding. Just a flippant joke to him surely. And yet, why did it bother you so much? You really had expected the name to have some sort of negative definition, some kind of taunt or insult that he’d be able to laugh about later whenever it’d finally dawned on you.

But this was far worse. It was cruel if he didn’t mean it. Yet...somehow maybe even crueler if he did. Because what were you supposed to do with this knowledge? What could you do?

“Hello, stranger.” A soft voice called as you heard footsteps approaching though.

You looked up in time to see a bit too beautiful god pull out a chair across from you, just sitting at your library table as well then with a friendly smile.

“Hi, Eros,” you said reflexively, still sounding a bit not yourself. He was just your cousin after all, well cousin once removed anyway.

But when he didn’t say anything immediately back, just giving you a sort of sympathetic look instead, the real threat of his presence hit you at once like a lead weight as your eyes widened a little.

“No...no, no, no.” You said quickly, lowering your voice as you leaned in towards the god, not knowing what other ears may be listening. “Eros, I literally just met him. Four times total!” You counted out four fingers from your hand, waving them in front of him for emphasis.

He tilted his head. Yet only answering gently, “Cousin, I sensed you as soon as you arrived here. Are you okay?”

You sighed, but knew you could trust him to keep this revelation to himself. It was part of his job frankly. “It wouldn’t matter would it? I mean, I know you haven’t met him. But he’s not going to feel the same. I’d think at most it would be some kind of possessive thing. He is...well, he’s very self important. Honesty is also not a preference of his.”

But to this Eros just smiled. “No one is perfect, especially among our kind. I can tell you with full certainty though that the biggest lie ever told is when someone claims to not desire love. I’ve seen the hearts of the cruelest dictators all the way to the homeless peasant in the street. They all beg me for it deep down. Even if they can’t always admit it to themselves.”

You rested your elbows on the table, just looking down again. “But that doesn’t mean he’d want it from me necessarily.”

“Love is never a given. It wouldn’t be so valuable otherwise. But you can’t lose hope too soon just because you’re new at something. You need to see it through. That’s the only way to ever find out.”

You looked back up at him wryly, knowing it would be foolish not to accept a little relationship advice from the god of love himself. But as he’d said there was no guarantee this would end up working either. “So if everything goes horribly wrong, I can just blame you, right?”

He shrugged, a bit of a wise ass himself to be true. “Might as well. Everyone else does.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki x oc #loki x original female character #loki x original character #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki odinson #loki odison x reader #loki lafeyson #loki layfeyson x reader

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sweetiejunie · 4 years ago

Text

Jealous

Summary: You get jealous that he was ‘flirting’ with another idol

Genre: fluff, smut «dont read if you dislike this, you have been warned»

Yeonjun x reader

—.*•—

💕request by anon: Hi! May I request jealous sex with Yeonjun? In which case the reader get's jealous of another idol being too close with Yeonjun?

A/n: havent wrote a smut in a while, hope you liked this!

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You were ignoring him. Was it petty? Yes. Was it necessary? Well, to you it was. Did he deserve it? That was debatable, but to you it was a hell yeah he did.

So, what exactly did he do that made you this mad? Some may say it was harmless. Some may say you were overreacting. But he was flirting with another girl! Right in front of you! Another idol to be exact.

Okay sure, technically the both of you weren’t in a relationship. And yes, he had free will do what he wanted. The relationship between the two of you could have been described as... complicated. It was painfully obvious that the two of you liked each other. I mean, every-time you passed each other, yeonjun would either blow you a kiss or wink at you playfully. And you loved to tease him every now and then. Throwing him random complements that added to his — already— overinflated ego and then breaking it down again and vice versa. It was all in good fun, of course. And he knew that. It was just how your dynamic worked with him. It had been months since it first started, and you practically already acted like a couple, with all the hand holding, kissing and things that were better left to the imagination. You just never made it official, but everyone who knew you, knew the both of you were off limits.

Long story short, that’s how yeonjun ended up in you apartment. You hadn’t expected him to show up so soon. You left shortly after you witnessed the whole... ordeal... take place. You had just taken a shower, wrapping yourself in your thin silk robe when your door bell rang. And here he was.

“Come on y/n, I’ve already apologised.” He tried for what was most likely the tenth time.

You didn’t budge. Frankly speaking, you’ve already forgiven him, maybe after his second apology or so. But seeing his attempts to gain your forgiveness was just too cute to pass on. You were sure he had figured that out by now and was simply playing alone.

“Y/n, please? I’m sorry.” He pouted this time, trying to catch you glance. Giving you puppy dog eyes the entire time. “I was just kidding. You know i would never hit on anyone other than you.”

You didn’t reply, trying your hardest not to let a smile break your, slowly but surely, shattering demeanour .

“Y/nnnnn,” he whined again, poking your cheek. “I swear i was just having a conversation.”

Gosh, why did this boy had to be so darn cute all the time.

You let giggled escape this time. By the time you caught yourself, he’d already noticed. And he took that opportunity to hook an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Sealing your back against his chest.

Something pulled at his lips, “i really am sorry.” A short pause before he continued. “Were you really that jealous?” You weren’t even facing him, but you hear the smug grin that was plastered on his face.

His question caught you off guard. “I- I was not jealous.” Never have you wanted to crawl under the table as much as you did in this moment.

Interest sparked in his eyes. “Is that so?” His hands rubbing gentle circles against your sides. “My mistake, then. But i have to admit,” he leaned in closer to your ear to whisper, “that knowledge actually made me extremely turned on.”

Your cheeks coloured at his confession. How were you supposed to reply to that?

“Baby... let me make it up to you,” he murmured.

He placed his hand on your shoulders, spinning you to face him as he leaned towards you. His lips were soft yet unrelentingly firm. Wasting no time to make your thoughts go blurry with nothing but the idea of him. He let his hand slide down your thighs, over the robe you wore. Lifting you to your toes then hire, he wrapped your legs around his waist. The lower half of the robe parted as the upper half rolled of your shoulders.

Yeonjun’s growing hardness pressed into you, and your body answered on its own accord, moving against him, dragging a grunt out from him. You weren’t sure if it was his hand kneading at your rear, feeling of him between your thighs or the intensity of the kiss that drove you closer to the edge. Perhaps it was a combination of everything. Everything about this man drove you insane.

“Bedroom?” His chest rising heavily against yours.

You nodded and his lips were back on yours as he walked you both to your room. Not having to look where he was going, he knew your entire apartment by muscle memory.

After several moments, one of his arms folded over your waist, his other in your hair as he lowered you onto the bed. The back of head rested on your pillows as his hand eased from underneath you. You opened your eyes when you felt the bed dip with his weight. His hands on either side of your head as he hovered over you.

Noticing that the robe had now slipped even further, you wanted to cover yourself. But you didn’t move. The swells of your breasts were now visible, and an entire leg was out, all the way to you hip. You simply shifted your gaze to his.

Neither of you spoke as his chests rose and fell, his breathing as uneven as yours. His lips parted, but no words came out. His muscles rigid as he held him up before he ducked his to neck. Kissing a trail along your jaw, down to your collar bones. Your breath hitched as you burned more.

“Y/n...” there was an abundance of need in that one word, your name. “Let me make it up to you the only way i know how.”

His hand drifted over you stomach, where your skin had been exposed. You could barely breathe or think as his lips brushed against the neckline of the robe. You felt the warm glide of his tongue through the fabric. You gasped, shocked by the act and rush that it brought you. His gaze lifted to you as his mouth closed over the tip of your breast. He sucked deep and long, and your gasp quickly turned into a cry. You felt his hand move closer to where you needed him the most, pressing down against your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” you sighed.

“Mmm.” His lips shifted back to your neck. “You like that, baby?”

There was no point replying. He already knew the answer, and he did it again, causing you to whimper more.

“You’re very wet, y/n.” He breathed against your jaw. “I like that.” A pause. “I also like how you react to my touch.”

Without another word, yeonjun turned you to the side, away from him. Confused, you looked back to him as he stretched out behind you. He rested on his elbow and met your eyes.

“I’ll take care of you,” he hummed, pulling you into the cradle of his hip.

Your robe had slipped and now there was nothing but the jeans he wore between your bare rear and the hard length of him. You bit your lip as he trailed down you side and lifted your leg, sliding one of his between. His hand drew along your body before meeting with your wetness. His touch remaining light, almost featherlike, as he slid a finger across your center, causing your entire body to twitch. He continued this motion for what felt like eternity, and then he sank that finger in. You kicked your head back against his chest, letting out a breathy moan.

“You’re the only one for me,” he grunted. “You know that.” He pulled his finger almost completely out of you before inching it back in again.

You couldn’t respond as fire sparked inside of you with each thrust of his finger. He angled his hand so that his thumb could brush against your sensitive nerves. Each motion taking more breathe out of you. His worked his other arm around you, and across your chest. Palming and squeezing your breast as he worked in a second finger.

“Yeonjun.” You managed, your hips still moving.

And you could tell he was loosing his composure when he replied. “Ah fuck.” He sucked in a breath. “Just ride my fingers.”

You cried out, rubbing harder against his hand, against him. His breaths hitched in his throat as you did this. Looking back, you saw him watching hand, watching you grind and clench around them. Right then, you couldn’t even remember what you had been jealous about. Was it some bitch? Well, she wasn’t the one here with yeonjun now. Your stomach tightened as you continued to ride his fingers, riding his length that pressed against you behind.

He started to move so there was space between your bodies. Instead, you reached for his hip, nails digging into his skin as a silent demand.

And yeonjun obeyed.

He stilled, cursing as his plunged his fingers faster, rubbing your clit harder. You rocked against him, the feeling in your lower stomach becoming too much. With a final thrust, you moaned out when you came. You shuddered around his fingers and he shuddered against you, still moving his digits, exploiting every sensation from you until you went limb in his arms.

You stayed there, both your breathing slowly steadying. He eased out of you and you turned your head to face him. You expected to see that cocky grin of his. But you caught the red hue that tinted his cheeks instead. And slowly you became aware of the dampness at your lower back. You eyes widened when you realised.

“Sorry,” a sheepish smirk appearing, pulling your robe back to its original state. “Only you could do this to me.”

Now it was your turn for your lips to twitch. “I guess i should get jealous more often, huh?”

“So you were jealous~” he sang.

“Shut up.”

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What was this 😀 i think ive been reading too much

#txt fanfic #txt imagines #txt post #txt au #yeonjun fanfic #txt smut #txt imagine #yeonjun smut #txt

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