#projected this fantasy on her and acted like he knew best

[bella-goths-wife]

How would Pet reader and Alastor interact after he returned from his 7 year long absence?

How would Alastor and pet interact after his absence

I assume you mean in the canon au and not the alastor makes a deal with you au but if I’m wrong feel free to request again :)

I’m sorry it’s not much interacting but they don’t really meet much at this point in the story

Warnings: abuse mentioned, obsessive behaviour

After his seven year absence, alastor did try to subtly seek you out

He lingered around where he met you and expected to find you in the same position you were in seven years ago, a starving little fawn on the street who was desperate enough for shelter that you’d be willing to make a deal

But he didn’t find you, not a trace of the little doe eyed fool he had felt such a familiarity with

So he cut his losses for the meantime and decided that he would trouble one of the many souls he owned to stalk you down

So imagine his surprise when on a random afternoon he passed by angel and heard your voice from angels annoying little gadget

He asked for a closer look and there you were, the person who had been on his mind for the seven years was stood with the Vs surrounding them

You looked different though

You were cleaner and more well fed, meaning you had been able to escape the cold streets and found food

But there was a difference in your eyes as you posed with the Vs, there was a lack of something

Your eyes didn’t hold the same curiosity or passion that he knew of the girl he met several years ago who was so eager to learn more about her abilities

You looked like a candle lit flame that was running at the bottom of wick and was being drowned out and smothered by candle wax, your fire was slowly dying inside you

He demanded angel showed him everything out there that pertained to you, and angel gladly did with the small hope that maybe alastor would take enough interest in you to help you

Alastor absorbed every piece of media you were in and every sound you had created, anything that the internet held of you alastor would consume

He observed how the passion slowly died from your face and the years went on, he heard how your music which was once so alive and inventive turn into something generic and easily forgotten

In many ways he prepared himself to mourn the person he had met, he doubted that there was any of you left to mourn considering the Vs had drained your presence of its spark

Alastor felt something he hadn’t felt in a while, he felt pity for you

He heard of the horrifying things your were subjected to on a daily basis and he just couldn’t stop the sympathy from bubbling to to the service

He was no good soul owner himself, he was fairly abusive but that’s only when he had to correct behaviour

He felt overwhelming jealousy and anger at Vox over how Vox had claimed your soul before him and ruined you

Alastor could have made you into something great, something more than a pet to the rich for when they felt cruel or bored

Alastor was almost ready to give up on you and see you as a failed project, but something stopped him

angel had mentioned your acts of kindness towards him and alastor had to hear of your very intriguing presence from Charlie, so he decided to test you before giving up to see if you were worth more effort

He followed you for weeks on end with his shadows, and he saw many things

He saw how your cunning side could slip out when you saw an opportunity to escape a punishment and how manipulative you could be

He also saw how your anger had gotten the best of you on many occasions and watched as your powers manifested into something dangerous, something lethal

He fantasied about making you into a powerful being, someone who could one day be on a level close to his

He wanted to sculpt you like a sculpture and make you into something bigger than the pentagram had ever seen, he wanted to protect you from the past and make you strong enough to protect yourself from the present

He had angel dust sneak into your room and slip a radio under your bed so he could listen in to your surroundings

He heard you be your authentic self without having to water yourself down

He heard your moments of brief happiness and he heard the many overwhelmingly cruel acts committed to you

He heard your sobs and swear for a minute he felt himself grow caring enough to want to comfort you

So he played a soothing song from the radio once you were too distracted by your sobbing, so it could calm you to sleep and at least offer you the minimal comfort he could offer to you

He felt himself growing attached to the idea of bringing you back to the hotel and surrounding you in his arms like a child to make sure you wouldn’t have to see the faces of your abusers again

He began concocting plans to help you escape, and he was determined to one day own your soul so he could sculpt you in his image like he intended to do several years ago

He had never felt himself caring about anyone this much, he had a need to know where you were at all times and even felt himself grow antsy to see you in person and talk with you like you once did

Parts of him even felt a paternal sense of worry and concern over you in a way he’s never experience before

And he was determined to save you from Vox and bring you home

@lilyalone @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @hazbinhotelxreader @corvid007 @fandomaddict505 @buttercupfangirl @ivebeenthearchersstuff @sparkleyfishies @perkypeony @rerarlo

[dumbkid4ever]

Drunken Acts, Silent Truths

Mualani x reader! In which:

You and Mualani have fun and get wasted at a party. In the end, you both did things you never would've if you were sober.

Contains a bit of lemon.

Alternative title: In the Back of Kinich's Car

3,017 words 16,597 characters

"Hey [Name]! Over here!" you heard your best friend yell from across the street. She stood beside Kinich's dark green SUV, swinging her arm fervently to get your attention. From the passenger seat you could see Kachina waving at you, smiling cutely like she always does.

Mirroring the little girl's expression, although yours is more like a grin, you ran towards your friends. Once there, Mualani engulfed you in a tight hug, surprising you.

"[Name]!"

Her hugging you is not a rare occasion, but you seemed to be unable to get used to this. A gentle heat graced your cheeks.

"Hey ya, Lani!"

"You ready to have the best time of your life? The party's going to be so lit! Come on, come on, get in," Mualani gushed as she urged you to get in the car, clearly very excited for what's to come. Her voice easily overpowered the quiet music that was playing. California girls, quite befitting of the occasion.

You greeted the others as you put on your seatbelt, including Ajaw, Kinich's pet lizard, which was currently resting on Kachina's lap.

"Hell yeah I am, we're gonna drink so much and play so many games, it'll be one hell of a time!" you chuckled, trying to match her energy and force down the butterflies in your stomach. Although his face wore the same blank expression, Kinich sighed upon hearing that.

"That sounds like so much fun," Kachina on the other hand giggled at your words. "I can't wait to be 18, then you can take me with you as well!"

"Of course! We can't wait for you to be 18 as well, then we can have girl nights and do lots and lots of fun stuff! But for now, you'll have to patient. On the bright side, today you get to hang out with Kinich, you don't know how many people would envy you for that!"

Indeed, Kinich was very popular. Back in highschool his locker always had one or two confession letters and Mualani, who already knew him at that time, even got some letters as well. They were all some kind of threat telling her to back off from Kinich, though. It got to a point where she even made a bingo with the most frequent contents she found in those letter, like a death threat or slut-shaming, and for every row of five he got in one single letter Kinich would have to buy her a small treat as compensation for "being too handsome." The way she worded it had always rubbed you the wrong way.

"I'm sure they wouldn't be if they actually got to know me. It would probably destroy whatever... Romantic lense they have projected onto me. I'm no prince charming," Kinich insisted as he steered the wheel with his right arm. His other was propped on the frame of the open window.

"No way man, I think they'd only fall harder. With how nice you are, whatever you do will be misinterpreted and feed into their handsome, mysterious, cold guy with a soft spot for them fantasies. It's all just confirmation bias and a bit of delusion, really," you snickered. It's not the first time you and the others have teased him about it, but even then, seeing him in denial about his situation will never stop being amusing. Especially Mualani likes to pick on him for that.

"You know, you could just get a significant other or at least pretend to have one, maybe then they'll stop trying to get with you. With that face of yours it wouldn't be surprising for you to have one too," the latter suggested, this time not even as a joke. And she wasn't really wrong, however the victim of popularity still dismissed the offer.

"They'd just start pestering me with questions about my supposed partner, not worth it."

"Well if you say so."

That's how the conversation ended and there was nothing awkward about the silence that ensued. Then Kachina pointed out the song just started to play.

"Mualani, [name]! Listen!"

It took the two of you a second, but when you realized you instantly turned to each other with the same stupid grin on your faces.

"Crank it up, pretty boy!" Mualani demanded, earning herself a laugh from Kachina and, although she didnt notice, a complicated look from you. As always, Kinich was the only one to notice. You saw him looking at you from the rear view mirror as he turned up the volume. You shook your head softly, indicating that you're fine. The probability that he knows about your crush is at about 85%, according to your calculations.

You were still contemplating, for the thousandth time, if she likes him that way, but you were interrupted by the reason why you were even sulking in the first place. She pulled you towards her by the waist and held an imaginary microphone to your mouth. With a small smile, you had the honour of starting the song.

"You, change your mind~"

"Like a girl, changes clothes~" Mualani followed up, pointing the microphone towards herself.

"Yeah you, PMS~"

"Like a bitch!" the youngest chimed in, causing Kinich to stare at you through the mirror once more, since you were the one who introduced her to the song. If you didn't know him so well, you wouldn't have known that he was glaring at you, hard.

"I would know~" you carried on anyways, averting your eyes and pretending you didn't see.

"That you're no good for me!~" the other two girls sang in unison, getting louder as they approach the last notes of the line.

For the rest of the ride the three of you continued singing. It was as if the party had already started, but then again, it's always like a party when you're with your friends. Eventually, you did arrive at the actual destination though, a bit to your disappointment. You were just getting to the good parts of Call Me Maybe.

"Bye Kachina, bye Kinich!" Mualani, already out of the car, kissed Kachina on the forehead and waved goodbye.

"Have fun hanging out you two!" you bid your goodbyes as well. Kachina got a head rub from you and Kinich a fist bump.

"You too, Mualani and [name]!"

"Keep your drinks within eye sight and always stick together. I'll pick you up at nine."

"We will! Besides, Mavuika will be sober, so don't worry."

Kinich hummed at that, comforted by that and drove off with the SUV, leaving the two of you at the entrance of a big mansion from which bright lights emitted. It was barely 5pm and the sun hadn't set yet, how bright would it be later? Putting the question aside, you went up the stairs to the front door and ringed the doorbell.

Not long after the host of the party Mavuika, she's kind of a local celebrity, opened the door and greeted you with great passion.

"Ah, Mualani, you're here! Very punctual, the party hasn't even started." She looked at you with her blindingly bright eyes and you were a bit entranced. Although they were all red, Mualani's were darker, more desaturated and the upper half of her eyes were this calming blue. Ironically, while picturing her eyes in your head you failed to notice her eyes in the present, looking at you with a peculiar glint in them.

"Is she your plus one?" she asked, looking at you.

"Yeah! This is [name], my best friend!" she introduced you, grabbing and trapping your arm between her own and the side of her body. Your forearm touched her exposed stomach. The skin there was warmer than your arm's, but it can't be warmer than your cheeks in that moment, that you were sure of.

Mavuika suddenly seemed to understand something, causing a smirk to appear on her face. She nodded at you and extended her hand for you to shake.

"Nice to meet you [name]. You have a fine friend here, do make sure to keep her close, yes?"

Naturally, you were puzzled by her advice as you shook her hand, even more so when she winked at Mualani and got a look of what seemed like gratitude in return. What's going on between them? No matter though, because you were already being dragged into the house by your crush. One look was enough to confirm how rich the radiant woman was, but not in a stereotypical rich person way.

The entrance hall was half the size of your apartment, with walls decorated by colorful grafittis and precious looking relics. There's no doubt that they must be worth quite a lot, but no one ever stole any of them, as easy as it would be. They all respected her too much to do so, in fact, it's harder to not respect her.

"So, what do you want to do first? We could play beer pong, hit the dance floor, ooh you wanna wipe the food court clean?" your best friend asked, her gaze directed towards yours.

"How about Mario Kart? Let's play to our heart's content before the others come and hog it," looking right back, you answered. Having reached a mutual conclusion, you followed Mualani upstairs to the gaming room where the video games are. All the while she let go of your arm and shifted to hold your hand instead, intertwined your fingers. "So that you won't get lost," she explained, even though you only walked past six of the only other thirty something people in this gigantic house.

Once you got to the gaming room, this time twice the size of your living room, Mualani officially let go of your hand, to your disappointment. But you didn't dwell on that for long, as your thoughts were soon occupied with strategy, frustration and when to throw the shell. Preferably it should be at a point in time where receiving such an attack would be the most devastating and spirit breaking for the enemy. Such is the cruel nature of Mario Kart, where any personal connections and sense of fun doesn't matter anymore.

Over time, the party started to increase in people and you had to give up the consol. However you took a pack of uno from Mavuika's board games collection, wanting to play it now because you probably won't be sober enough to do so later. Speaking of being drunk, you both got a cup of the alcoholic punch that was being served.

Mualani easily managed to rope in three more players and the games began. Like Mario Kart, although not as brutal, Uno brought out quite a lot of rage and dispair from the depths of your hearts, for you were playing with the "pulling until you have a usable card" rule, which has led to one or two breakdowns. That's less than you expected.

"HA! UNO, LOSERS! YEAH SUCK ON THAT," one of the players hollered, giving you all the one finger salute and doing what seemed to be a victory dance.

"NO THE FUCK YOH DIDN'T, YOU PLAYED A SIX BUT THE CARD BELOW WAS A NINE, FUCKING CRETIN!" another player yelled. It was clear they both had too much to drink.

"AGAIN, NO ONE WON THIS ROUND, WE'LL GO AGAIN!" you protested at the top of your lungs. That would make three drunk people. Next to you, Mualani was laughing hysterically at the state you were in. It's her third cup already and she's only a bit tipsy, but you already had 5 cups and well, the results were evident.

And it went on like this for the next three hours. You played all sorts of things, such as partner beer pong, where Mualani displayed her excellent fine motor skills despite her by then half drunken state. In the end your team won and you very platonically kissed her on the mouth to express your happiness at the victory.

Next up was never have I ever, played in a circle on the ground. That day, some of your more embarrassing secrets became known to many more people other than the only three who knew it before. At some point some guy also started hitting on you, but thankfully Mualani fended him off. After that incident she's been walking even closer to you, like some sort of bodyguard.

When Kinich eventually came to pick you up he found you on a couch, tangled together and only halfway conscious, much to his concern.

"Don't worry, I made sure that everyone was safe. They only had harmless fun the whole evening," Mavuika assured him as she walked up to you three.

"Thank you, and sorry for any trouble they might've caused," your chauffeur dipped his head in gratitude.

"Nonsense, this is my responsibility as the party host."

She then helped Kinich to bring the two of you inside the car, each with one arm slung around their neck, respectively. You all said your goodbyes, well the drunk ones tried but only managed to get out jibberish, and parted ways. Kinich turned off the music so you would sleep soundly on the way home. However the two of you didn't plan on sleeping.

Throughout the day, no, throughout the majority of the time you've known her, you've always been restricting yourself. All of the repressed desires were getting harder to control with the alcohol in your system.

At first you were just staring into her pretty red eyes, but then her put a hand onto your thigh and clicked off both your seatbelts.

"Put on your seatbelts," Kinich ordered, briefly glancing at the backseat. None of you complied. Instead, you slipped your hands up her shirt, roaming around, getting a feel of her skin. She rubbed your thigh a little, her hand slipping further upwards and the other pushed you down to lay on the cushioned seats.

"You alright back there?" Kinich asked somewhat worriedly, not noticing your arm that disappeared behind the soft fabric of Mualani's top. Ajaw, now on Kinich's shoulder as usual, blinked slowly and looked away, turning into the color of Kinich's shirt and hair, camouflaging himself.

You didn't even notice Kinich's voice. In fact, you couldn't hear anything but the rhythmic throbbing in your veins, see anything but her beautiful face, feel anything but her gentle touch, getting shocked by a tiny wave of electricity every time her finger tips connected with your skin.

She too seemed too engrossed in you to take note of the boy at the front who's getting more anxious by the second.

"Mualani? [Name]?" he tried again, but to no avail. That's when he noticed it though. The sight of you exploring each other. For a few seconds he was speechless, but it quickly became slight annoyance.

"Cut it out you two, you can make out when you get back home," he chided with a slight glare, but you still hear nothing. Quietly, he muttered something under his breath about being glad he sent Kachina home first. At this point he has accepted that you won't respond to him no matter what, so instead he opted to turn the music up to at least not hear... Well, you know. Very fittingly though, the song playing then was Knee Socks by Arctic Monkeys.

While Kinich was despairing in the front, the two in the back were enjoying the ride more and more. You were now kissing like there's no tomorrow. Mualani's tongue slips into your mouth and you let it, pressing against it with your own. She's got her hand in your shorts, kneading the flesh of your behind, you've got you hand under her bra, fondling with her breast.

You both pulled away to get some air and stared at each other deeply. There was a weird taste in your mouth, but that too you didn't register. Instead you were focused on the half blue half red sapphires just a couple of centimeters before you.

Futilely, you tried to say a simple "pretty," but all that came out was an incoherent babble. You were... Amazed by how beautiful she was, even with her messy hair, smeared lipstick and almost no light for you too see her.

Fueled with a new animalistic desire, you pulled her down against your lips again. This time you were the one to visit her mouth and she complied. She tasted like alcohol. Like your own mouth, actually. You tasted the same.

"Mm-!" you moaned into the kiss. She had just found your most private parts.

Hearing that, she chuckled breathily, parting your lips once more. She played a bit more with the same spot, eliciting an erotic and pretty vocal reaction. Not feeling satisfied yet, she hooked her pointer fingers at the waistband of your shorts.

"Alright, that's enoug, my car is not a motel," Kinich hastily said, already opening the door on Mualani's side of the car. Despite her weak protests, he dragged her towards your house, actually half piggybacking her, and opened the door with the keys he got from you beforehand. The muscles he had built up from all the sports he did finally got put to good use.

He even carried her, and later you, all the way to the bedroom, thinking it would be more comfortable no matter if you two decide to sleep or fuck. Leaving your drunk and horny friends alone in a house, on the same bed even, might seem like an irresponsible action, but really, he had no idea what else he could do. The two of you have always looked at each other funnily anyways.

Before he went home himself, he poured two glasses of water and put it on the nightstand but when brought the glasses from the kitchen you were already back at it, hence why he left as soon as possible.

That's how you woke up next morning, naked and pressed up against Mualani's warm, also naked body. It seemed like you really needed to have a serious talk about your friendship. Oddly enough though, you were looking forward to it.

[phantompanties]

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Volo x Fem!Reader

Summary: this is an excerpt from chapter 26 of my long slow burn Legends Arceus fic called "I Got Sent Back In Time And All I Got Was This Lousy Arc Phone". At this point in the story it's during the reader's banishment from Jubilife Village, and currently her mental state is suffering due to the danger and betrayal she's faced thus far. Volo is not a good person and this whole thing isn't out of love, but out of hunger for power. A narcissistic god complex power fantasy. It nearly borders on noncon so if that's not your thing, please don't read and be safe. Its on brand for this blog so I thought id post it :3

Tags: male masturbation, power fantasy, excerpt of a bigger fic, blowjob, dacryphilia, corruption kink, none of this actually happens its just a sick bastard's fantasy, noncon if you squint, volo is a BASTARD a BAD PERSON an EVIL LITTLE WEASEL

Now that everyone had retired for the night, Volo was actually glad Adaman offered you his tent. If you were sleeping in his tent, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself from acting on his impulses.

He remembered the other night when you fell asleep crying, desperately trying to keep quiet so as not to rouse his attention. Your mental state was so vulnerable… and Volo enjoyed it. He felt like a Glameow toying with a defenceless little Pichu before devouring it. The best part? The little Pichu had no idea she was being toyed with. If he was being honest, he grew to love how sweetly naive you were. At first, he found you to just be dumb, thinking that your recklessly rushing into danger for the sake of the Galaxy Team was you having a stupid death wish. But as you grew more and more scarred and broken, latching onto any stranger who showed you positive attention, he found it intoxicating the way he swayed you to his whim. Even though he was sure Arceus must have warned you not to associate with him if what you told him about being led astray was anything to go off of, you ignored it, choosing to leap into his arms when the world fell into ruin. Volo knew that he had you wrapped around his finger, and it was a high he couldn’t get enough of. If Adaman hadn’t been here to suggest you sleep in his tent that night, Volo would have had great difficulty holding himself back. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to do what he wanted to do, oh no. The way your big sweet eyes gazed up at him like he was some kind of saviour made him crazy, like he wanted to tear you apart and devour you whole. It was the fact that if he acted, it would ruin his credibility amongst the insects that swarmed you two. Adaman was clearly protective of you, even going so far as to declare you his honourary sister. Despite his teasing a few nights prior, Volo knew Adaman held trust in him not to harm you. If he weren’t here, Volo would have pounced. Volo saw the way you flushed whenever he’d smile at you, how flustered you’d get when he called you his favourite customer. Surely you felt something for him, even if it was the slightest infatuation.

Volo couldn’t help his mind from racing as he tossed and turned in his bedroll. The more he thought of your innocent watery eyes, the more uncomfortable he felt in his trousers. He groaned, pushing the covers off of him. When he sat up, what caught his eye was the mannequin in the corner dressed in his latest project. It was very nearly complete, only needing hemming on the pants and the golden fabric details to be sewn to the white toga itself. Volo had slaved away at this particular project for years, only able to work on it between visits to the retreat. It was an outfit based on the depictions of clothes ancient Celestica priests would wear way back before the genocide. Volo let his mind wander to when he’d finally don the outfit at the Temple of Sinnoh, where he’d use the power of the Seer of Time and The Seer of Space to overthrow Arceus. You’d be there, of course. He wants you to be there to witness his ascension. He wondered then if you’d oppose him or worship him at his feet. Certainly, you’d worship him, right? You were going against Arceus’s will by choosing him after all. Oh, how delicious would it be to take you at Arceus’s altar? Forcing the detestable god to watch as he taints its strongest soldier right in front of its eyes?

Volo palmed the bulge straining his smallclothes, imagining just how he’d ruin you up there on the peak of Mt. Coronet. He imagined your innocent watery eyes gazing up at him from the floor as he fished his cock from his trousers, spitting into his palm to lubricate it. Would you know just what to do, or would you have to be guided like the servant of divinity you were? Fuck, the thought of him guiding you as you used your mouth on him made him twitch. He imagined himself gripping your hair, forcing his cock into your mouth. Would you gag? He hoped so. He wanted you to struggle to take him as he used you for his pleasure. He fisted his cock, imagining himself fucking your mouth while tears helplessly poured from your eyes and spit dribbled down your chin as you tried so desperately to please him, the man who will become your new god. Arceus will weep as it witnesses Volo breaking its chosen hero, and Volo will laugh in its face. In his mind, your throat bulged every time Volo thrusted into your mouth. He remembered how pitiful you looked the day he found you sobbing by the riverbank, and by Arceus did he wish that he could make you look that way. He caressed his balls with his other hand as his hips thrust into his fist.

“Take it, (y/n)...” he mumbles. “Worship me at my altar while Arceus watches… know who you will belong to…!”

When he came close, he imagined himself releasing deep into your throat, not pulling out until he was spent. It was the next thought that sent him over the edge. You’d pull off him, trying desperately to catch your breath with your pink tongue hanging out of your mouth. “Th-thank you… Lord Volo…” you’d pant, wiping the spit that dribbled from your mouth. Volo grunted, biting his hand to muffle the sound of pure ecstasy as he came into his fist.

When Volo came down from his high, breathing heavily, he shuddered in delight as he found he quite enjoyed where his mind went.

Oh yes, faller of the rift… Arceus’s chosen one… Volo will break you.

[cheynovak]

Between Power and Freedom

Part 4

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Shurley Female character     

Summary: Y/N, the ambitious daughter of a powerful CEO, grapples with her father's choices, while she secretly takes a job with Dean Winchester, the rugged CEO of a rival company. Sparks fly between Y/N and Dean as they navigate their growing attraction amid corporate rivalry and family pressure.

Warnings: This story will contain parts that are 18+!

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I walked into Dean’s office, a mix of anticipation and nerves swirling in my stomach. “Dean? You wanted to see me?” I called out, but the room was eerily silent.

As I stepped further inside, I felt a sudden rush of warmth as hands unexpectedly pulled me back against a strong frame. My breath hitched as I recognized Dean’s scent, a mix of vanilla and bourbon, something distinctly him.

His lips brushed over my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and before I knew it, he was unbuttoning my blouse just enough to slip his large hand inside, igniting a fire within me.

“I’ve been craving you,” he whispered, his voice deep and husky. The way he said it made my heart race, and I could feel the heat radiating between us.

In an instant, he turned me around, pushing me onto his desk as he crawled on top of me. I offered my body completely, surrendering to the heat of the moment, feeling alive in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

But just as our lips meet, I jolted awake, the harsh sound of my alarm cutting through the intoxicating haze of the dream. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding, the remnants of the fantasy still swirling in my mind.

“What’s wrong with me?!” I exclaimed, burying my face in my hands. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I couldn’t believe I had just dreamt about having sex with my boss on his desk. I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me like a second skin.

I got out of bed, desperately trying to distract myself. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. “It was just a dream,” I told myself, but I could still feel the echoes of Dean’s lips on my skin and the heat of his body against mine.

--

As I got ready for work, I couldn't shake the lingering feelings from the dream. I knew I had to face Dean today, and the thought both excited and terrified me. Would he notice how flustered I was? Would I be able to act normally around him after that dream?

With every passing minute, the tension built. I arrived at the office, my heart racing, trying to focus on my tasks. But every time I heard Dean's voice or caught a glimpse of him, my mind flashed back to the dream.

Finally, I found myself outside his office again, taking a deep breath before I knocked on the door. “Come in,” his voice called, and I opened the door, stepping inside.

Dean was sitting behind his desk, reviewing some papers. He looked up, and his gaze met mine, that familiar warmth in his eyes making my stomach flutter. “Hey, Y/N. Thanks for coming in. I wanted to go over some things for the upcoming project,” he said, gesturing for me to take a seat.

I nodded, trying to maintain my composure. “Of course, what do you need me to do?”

As we started discussing the project, I did my best to focus on the conversation, but my mind kept drifting back to that dream. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks every time I looked at him, and it was maddening.

Halfway through the meeting, Dean leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You okay? You seem a little distracted today.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.” His brow furrowed slightly, as if he could see through my facade. “If you need to talk about anything, I’m here.”

I bit my lip, caught between wanting to confide in him and the embarrassment of what was still fresh in my mind. Instead, I managed a small smile. “Thanks, Dean. I appreciate it.”

As we continued our discussion, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any idea of the thoughts racing through my mind or the dream I’d had about him... here... on this desk. And as the tension hung in the air, it became increasingly clear that whatever this was between us was far from over.

After Dean explained all the details of the project, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze focused on me. “I need you to run the numbers and see what budget we can come up with,” he said, handing me a few documents.

I accepted the task, standing up to leave, but just as I turned to walk away, I felt his voice stop me in my tracks. “Eh, Y/N… about last night,” he began, his tone serious. “Are you… ok? Is everything ok between us?”

My heart raced at the mention of the kiss, the heat creeping back into my cheeks. I shrugged it off, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Why?”

He stood up, crossing over to the other end of his desk, and leaned against it, studying me closely. “You’re acting different,” he noted, his brow furrowed with concern.

I took a deep breath, the weight of my personal life pressing down on me. “It’s just… my dad, and I haven’t been sleeping well for a long time,” I admitted, hoping my vague explanation would suffice.

Dean nodded, his expression softening, and I felt a flicker of relief. I turned again, ready to leave, but he called out once more. “Hey, one more thing. I’m meeting with investors for lunch tomorrow. Normally Bobby joins, but… would you mind coming instead?”

I was caught off guard by the request, my heart skipping a beat. “Uh, yeah, sure,” I stammered, surprised at how quickly I agreed. “Just send me an email with the details, and I’ll be there.”

He smiled, a hint of relief washing over his features. “Thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate it. I think it’ll be good for you to meet them.”

“Of course,” I replied, my mind racing at the implications of the lunch. Would this be another opportunity to get to know him better? Or would it be another reminder of the tension lingering between us?

As I walked back to my desk, I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety. Meeting investors was a big deal, and the thought of being by Dean’s side in that environment sent my heart racing. I had to remind myself to keep it professional, despite how my mind kept wandering back to that kiss.

The rest of the morning dragged on as I prepared for the meeting, running the numbers for the project and trying to clear my head. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the lunch would change everything.

When Dean finally sent me the email with the details, I glanced over it quickly. The meeting was set for noon at a fancy restaurant downtown.

--

I dressed carefully, wanting to look professional yet approachable, knowing that first impressions mattered, especially in front of investors.

As I arrived at the restaurant, I spotted Dean waiting by the entrance, looking sharp in his fitted suit. He caught my eye and smiled, his expression warm yet slightly nervous.

“Hey, you made it,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “Wouldn’t miss it,” I replied, trying to mirror his enthusiasm.

As we walked inside, he whispered in my ear "You look amazing." I felt a mix of nerves and excitement. This was a chance not just to impress the investors but to show Dean that I was capable and confident, despite the unspoken tension between us.

The lunch was filled with discussions about the company’s future, projections, and strategies. Dean handled the conversations with ease, his charisma shining through as he spoke. I chimed in when necessary, feeling more at ease with every passing moment.

But even in the midst of business talk, I couldn’t help but catch the way Dean glanced at me occasionally, as if he was gauging my reactions, or maybe searching for something more beneath the surface.

As dessert arrived, the conversation shifted slightly. One of the investors leaned back in his chair, eyeing me curiously. “So, Y/N, how do you feel working for Dean? Must be interesting to be under such a charismatic leader,” he said, smirking slightly.

I felt my cheeks flush, and I shot a quick glance at Dean, who was watching me intently. “It’s been great,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I’m learning a lot and enjoying the challenges.”

Dean chimed in, a grin on his face. “She’s been a tremendous asset to the team. Couldn’t do it without her.”

I could feel my heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through me. The way he spoke about me, with genuine respect, made it hard to focus on anything else.

After the meeting wrapped up and the investors began to leave, I turned to Dean, a sense of accomplishment washing over me. “I think it went really well,” I said, my excitement bubbling over.

Dean nodded, a proud smile on his face. “You handled yourself like a pro. I knew I could count on you.”

As we exited the restaurant, the tension from before still lingered, but it felt different now—charged with potential. I glanced up at him, my heart racing, and for a moment, the world around us faded away. Would today be the day we finally addressed what had happened between us? Or would we keep pretending like it hadn’t?

As we reached the sidewalk, Dean turned to me, his expression serious yet inviting. “Y/N, about the other night…” I took a breath, my heart pounding in my chest. “Yeah?”

“I just want to say… I don’t want things to be weird between us. We can talk about it, you know,” Dean said, his expression serious but soft. I raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on my lips. “You know you’re making it awkward by bringing it up, right?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, fair point. How about we celebrate instead? Drinks on me?”

“Sure, why not.” I replied, eager to shift the atmosphere.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere more fun,” he said, his voice a little slurred but his intentions clear. He took my hand, leading me out of the bar and down a dimly lit street until we arrived at a high-end underground pub.

“This is my go-to place when I need time alone,” he admitted, glancing at me with a hint of vulnerability. “I feel honored to have you here with me.”

I smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. The pub was intimate, with plush seating and a cozy atmosphere, and as we settled into a corner booth, I felt like we were in our own little world.

One drink turned into two, then three, and before long, we were at our sixth, both of us laughing and sharing stories like old friends.

With every drink, Dean seemed to grow more animated, his usual charm becoming increasingly flirtatious. I found myself giggling at his jokes, the alcohol loosening any tension I had felt earlier.

Dean became more flirtatious with each passing moment, leaning closer, his knee brushing against mine. I leaned in, enjoying the way the lightness of the alcohol made everything feel easier, more carefree.

“So, what’s the real reason you keep me around?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “You must have some ulterior motive.”

“Maybe I’m just keeping you here for the free drinks,” I shot back, grinning.

“Oh, so you admit it?” he laughed, his voice low, making my heart race. The chemistry between us crackled like electricity, and I leaned in even closer, lost in the moment.

Just then, Dean’s lips were so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath against my skin. “You know, I really enjoy spending time with you, Y/N,” he whispered, his tone sending shivers down my spine.

But just as the air became thick with anticipation, the front door swung open, and in walked Jo. My stomach dropped as I watched her scan the room, her gaze landing on us.

“Dean!” she called out, making a beeline for our table. "Why are you here and not at home!?"

Dean’s expression shifted from playful to awkward as he straightened in his seat, suddenly all business. “Uh, just having a celebration drink with Y/N,” he said, attempting to sound casual, but the tension was palpable.

Jo looked between us, her eyes narrowing. “Right. Because that’s all you’re doing,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as she continued to stand there, making a scene. “Is this how you spend your time while I’m at home?” she shot at Dean, her tone accusatory.

“Jo, chill. We’re just having a good time,” Dean replied, annoyance creeping into his voice.

“Oh, so now it’s ‘just a good time’? That’s rich,” she snapped, crossing her arms. The atmosphere at our table shifted dramatically, and I could feel my heart sinking.

“Jo, it’s not like that,” Dean said, his tone firm, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

I glanced between them, feeling like an intruder in a battle I didn’t want to be part of. “Maybe I should go,” I suggested quietly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“No, you’re not going anywhere,” Jo insisted, glaring at me. “You’re the one trying to take him away from me.”

“Take him away from you? Jo, that’s not what’s happening,” I replied, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I didn’t want to fight with her.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face in exasperation. “Can we not do this here? This is supposed to be a fun place,” he said, his voice strained.

“Fun for who?” Jo retorted, her eyes flashing with anger. “You’re just making a fool of yourself, Dean.”

I looked at Dean, my heart aching for him. He didn’t deserve this, and I could see how uncomfortable he was becoming. “Maybe we should just talk later,” I suggested gently, wanting to give him a chance to breathe.

“Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice low and resigned. Jo huffed, clearly not satisfied with that response, but Dean’s eyes met mine, a silent plea for understanding passing between us.

I nodded slowly, my heart heavy as I stood up from the table. “I’ll see you at work?” I said to Dean, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah, definitely,” he replied, though the spark that had ignited between us felt extinguished in the wake of Jo’s arrival.

As I walked away, I could feel Jo’s eyes on my back, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. The night that had begun so promisingly had turned into a tangled web of emotions, leaving me feeling lost and uncertain.

Outside, I took a deep breath, hoping that when I spoke to him later, we could figure things out.

But deep down, I knew that the complications were only just beginning.

--

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[soultiio]

the touden siblings are probably drop-outs in a modern setting

in college they make laios do things he doesn't want, homework that doesn't have any use in real life, he has to take courses he's not interested in (and he knew this but still wanted to give it a chance), he doesn't mind group projects if everyone puts in effort but there's always someone that doesn't do their part and it's frustrating, the professors are okay, but not outstanding, it really doesn't help.

he thinks this is not for him, he looks at the others and thinks How tf can they do it, he looks at shuro with his big eye bags and feels bad for him, kabru looks better, he always looks like he has control over everything and even if that's not the case, it doesn't affect him (thats how it looks, but in reality he fantasies about killing his classmates everyday)

falin doesnt go to college, she decided she didn't like it, she takes short courses of stuff she's interested in and that's it, studies with marcille some days and marcille says falin would be the best student out there, falin only smiles.

both work so it's not really important if they have a career, I mean, it would definitely improve their life quality but they are okay for now. the rent is not that expensive, senshi cooks for them sometimes and invites them to eat even though he doesn't have to, he even tells them when there's sales(?) or gives them coupons when he can. chilchuck acts like he doesn't care about them but sends them gifts when it's their birthday or christmas. marcille is always buying falin stuff and going out with her "it's on me" she says and falin lets her crash at her place. izutsumi crashes sometimes too, mostly in marcille's place, they don't know what she does or where she lives but she looks fine and healthy so they don't give it much of a thought

[idalenn]

Day 4 - Reticent

Worqor Zormor - Lillian and Alisaie switch up the plan to harry the Second Promise. (7.0)

Major characters: Warrior of Light, Thancred, Urianger

Full text below the cut

Quick as a lie, Lillian’s hand snapped away from her forehead and a golden cord yanked Alisaie whole into her grip.

“We’re changing the plan,” Lillian growled, twisting the younger girl around to get at the leather tube slung across her back. “Alisaie, you and Krile stay with Wuk Lamat, and I’ll head off the others at the pass instead.”

“What’s come over you,” the girl cried. “So. Suddenly?” Wrenching with all force in her Elezen frame, she tried to free herself to no avail. Lillian’s arms were muscle woven with steel.

“Thancred got the best of us. Heard all we – quit moving – intended. They’ll expect your harassment up ahead.” Her deft fingers slid around the tube’s hooks, undoing them one after another. So much easier without gloves, she thought. In short order the map was flapping in her hand. “But not mine.” Krile nodded, clarity writ plain on her face.

“The Echo. We’ll leave this to you, then.” She knocked their Hrothgar claimant across one hand with the dripping end of her brush. “Worqor Zormor awaits us, Third Promise. Our friend will rejoin us once she’s finished.”

Confusion reigned over Wuk Lamat’s own expression. “Does anyone care to enlighten me on this?”

“It must needs be later, I’m afraid. Just run for now. I’ll do my best to inform you of the basics on the way.”

“So it goes.” Wuk Lamat’s shoulders slipped with a heavy sigh. Beyond a protesting Alisaie, Lillian hurriedly crumpled the map into a long green pocket of her cape. “I bring you into my circle for help and you look to escape me at the first chance. Sometimes I think you just can’t toler-AH–” Wind took the rest of her words, loose earth and shards of rock showering the remaining party as Lillian raced off with its power at her back, yalms melting away with each stride.

 Up the path she went dodging around fallen stone outcroppings and growths of blue and violet crystal, the image of the Second Promise’s ascension on a column of air with Thancred and Urianger in tow still burned into her eyes. Not one soul in that damned town malms below had mentioned that was a possibility. Or perhaps her attention had fallen off at the wrong time in conversation and missed its passing mention in one of many grand tales she had been forced into hearing, some unexplainable act that had allowed the defeat of a rampaging beast like Valigarmanda. That was the irritating part about scholars like Koana; legends always held a grain of truth, and those learned as he always knew how to exploit those grains. Like as not down in the valley there existed some Sharlayan device he’d built capable of calling tempests to aid him.

Irritated, she slammed her staff into the mountain face and flooded it with aether. Juts of jagged, black stone ground out, dislodging flora that had lain root in the rock and birds that had found roost in the plants. Once extended enough for use, she bound up the cantilevered platforms, staff readied, its tip alight with pearlescent aether. One bird arrowed towards the Miqo’te, squawking complaint till light and petrichor found their mark, the smell of roast windkin filling Lillian’s mouth with water and nearly sending her feathered cap flying into the abyss. She almost shed a tear as the bird tumbled limp trailing feathers through the clouds.

After the last step, Lillian found herself on a mountain ledge flanked by a low rise of boulders and flowered moss. She drew out the time weathered map and flattened it on the ground, tsking at a tear she made in her haste to abscond. Wuk Lamat had been correct, but why waste time and confirm to the child claimant what she already knew? She was haughty, naïve, self-absorbed, and above all, a fool who believed Lillian’s actions took her well-being into consideration.

Were you not similar once, and did you not learn better? The voice of logic nagged. Quiet. Never so much as she, Lillian thought back, smoothing the spot Thancred pointed out to the Second Promise; a wide pass dotted with the ruins of ancient walls

“Alisaie plans to harry us here. She’s a quick-footed little pest, but we’ve battled alongside long enough for me to know exactly where her faults lie, and I’ve been itching for the opportunity to knock her down a peg or four. I’ll have her in bed without supper and you your victory before the Third Promise realizes she’s been made.”

We’ll see if you can manage the same against me, she thought, stuffing the map back down, wind licking at her heels as she ran. Beastkin poked their soft, red noses from their dens as she passed and retreated just as quickly. Excitement made her ears unable to stay still. They beat a dangerous leather heartbeat against their coverings sewn into her cap. Her thoughts were smothered, but so were the land’s whispers.

The ruins were a short jaunt away. There, the ground was soft and pocketed with fist-width craters filled with tepid water. Vegetation grew verdant from the civilization’s desiccated corpse to cover the bones in green embrace.

There it was. Along the path to the mountain’s summit, a towering stone barrier stood solemn. Dutiful. For a Miqo’te clad in forest colors: easily concealed behind. Some great hand had torn a hole through its skin and left a passage from ruin to path providing the perfect redoubt from which to utilize a White Mage’s magic against unwary passersby. Lillian sprinted across the sodden field, her mind bursting with all the possibilities to slow down her opponents.

As she reached the hole, a white blur faded into the open space.

A reticent blur of white absent of sound, of tension, of presence and definition. The pressure of existence swelled gradually with each fifth of moment. Her brain fired desperately on every available detail.

Bulk; clothing; the jangling of canisters; his interwoven bandolier; plant musk hiding his scent.

Thancred?

Who could claim the greater surprise? Not he, who knew of a coming. Not her, who knew of an arriving.

But if anything, he didn’t appear surprised at all. In fact, he was even –

Smiling?

A strong, hardened jaw stared back at her, yellow teeth glinting from a light growing –

From below?

A tickle started in her brain. Understanding came before the knowing.

Water flew into her hand from the puddle below before growing outward in a blue, glass-thin sheen in the path of the gunblade’s edge, hardening into a shield faster than the blooming muzzle flash. The explosion sent her flying back in a trail of dust and smoke. Powder smell filled her nose. Her ears rang with a cannon blast. Wind gathered thick around in a shroud of green aether to carry her from danger, willing herself to land upright on stable ground.

But as she did, a sigil circled with arcane letters expanded across the stone.

Rolling in the air, her hand wreathed in blinding green tore across the space as a wave of wind struck her full in the side mere ilms from the sigil, lifting the Warrior of Light to send her tumbling bodily across the ground and out of the way of harm as the sigil vanished in a thunderclap of dust and heat. Coughing up more dust caught in her throat, she turned blazing yellow eyes to the cloud of soot obscuring her would-be assailants.

“Bastards… the both of you.” She rose on shaking legs. Shards of broken stone had ripped tears in the cloth of her garb. Blood sheathed from a deep, muddy cut on her arm, but nothing else felt broken.

“Come now, we’re all friends here, and what’s a scuffle between friends.”

Thancred sauntered out from the debris, a shite-eating grin ballooning across his handsome features. Following suit with a light chuckle was Urianger, his astrometer spinning at the ready with cards prepped for reading.

“Our comrade believeth her hand superior to thine own.”

“Count yourself lucky that Alisaie hadn’t been the one around that corner.” Lillian spat a globule of saliva laced with red. “You might have killed her.”

“And I would have been eternally guilty for the act, make no mistake.” Somehow Thancred’s smile grew wider. “But, thankfully, no luck was necessary. You came around just as I had planned.”

“Planned? Ha!” Lillian tossed back her head to laugh. The movement made her wince. “Unless one of you can divine the future, my being here is all luck. And where has the Second Promise gone?”

“Ahead,” Thancred said.

“Thou would beggar of us an explanation?”

“Please. I’m all ears – hold…” She held up a finger hazy with radiant white and plunged the digit into her ringing ear. As the aether healed the damage from Thancred’s attack, the plants around her feet withered into brown husks and crumbled to join the dirt. “Apologies – Now I’m all ears.”

“Your Echo.” Thancred wore the face of a child swimming in an ocean of unwrapped candies. At Lillian’s widened eyes, he continued. “A most useful tool in our adventures, being allowed to witness past events as they occurred. But only as they occurred.”

“Of strength in sight does it boast, yet Master Thancred, awash in inspiration and long accustomed, privy to thine Echo’s potency, hath discovered the flaw in its making.” He held a hand to his lips and laughed lightly. Lightly and restrained. “Deceived we were, as means to deceive you.”

Lillian shook her head. “Somehow I believe this is just some trick to keep me here.”

“Oh, you were tricked, all right. Now your turn comes – what did the Echo show?”

“And why would I tell you?”

“You saw us discussing plans with Koana; plans to ambush Alisaie; plans in which I spoke of knocking her down a peg or four? You witness events exactly as they occur, so once we witnessed you succumb to the Echo’s effects…” Thancred placed a hand to his forehead.

“Into the fold were the Second Promise and I giveth allowance, and a trap thus lain for our dearest friend.”

Thancred’s fingers drummed along the gunblade’s handle. “Do pass on my thanks to Alisaie. Had it not been for her plot on Ultima Thule confirming you’ve density common with archon loaf, this endeavor may not have been as fruitful as hoped.”

The skin under Lillian’s left eye began to quiver. White aether burst at her wounded arm as the dirt crumbled into fine powder under her boots. “I hope you realize what you’ve earned.” Her words came out as a low hiss, the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly upward.

“A prize, I wager! And a prize Urianger and I have wished so long to taste.”

“Indeed. We bringeth all our might to bear, that we may witness might worthy of song and notoriety, what bringeth even eikons to heel.”

With a malicious cacophony, like to an endless sea of keening glass, from Lillian’s back spread opalescent wings of aether aflame, size and ferocity swelling until she was rendered a silhouette before their crescendo. Sensation of needles prickled against the Scions’ skin, and the myriad wounds below notice across her flesh steamed forth white clouds until hale and closed.

“Try not to choke on it.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Fate Of A Fae - Part 3

Marvel AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Steve Rogers

Theme: Soulmates / Monster/Fantasy AU

You know on sight. Friends also know when they meet you if you're a match for one of their friends.

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is a meddling, pain in the ass Sprite, who you wrongly thought would leave you alone once you introduced her to your best friend, Darcy. News flash, she doesn’t and she won’t. Not when she thinks you’re a perfect match for two of her best friends. Could she be right? Maybe. Just don’t tell her that.

“Never tell Natasha Romanoff she was right” - Clint Barton

Chapter Summary: This Zoom call could have been an email and the reader is starting to teeter.

If this Zoom call went on any longer you were going to take the pen you’d been twiddling in your fingers for the last half hour and gauge it into one of your eyes.

Dramatic but a Zoom call that could have been an email or voice-note was not what you wanted or needed this morning.

You continued to look out of the window again. The drizzle of the rain and wind a reflection of your mood. Probably too windy for dragons too.

Your laptop pinged with a WhatsApp message and you immediately regretted adding it to your desktop. There was a reason your phone was off. Luckily the others had seemed to have taken the hint. Your work acquaintances not so much.

Tyler At least act interested

Did you mute yourself so we couldn’t hear you sighing, because we can still see your eyes rolling you know!!!

Shit she’s asking you a question!!!!

You tried to style out you jumping up in your seat and your eyes going wide as you scrambled to take yourself off mute.

“Sorry you broke up at the start?” you lied.

Amanda huffed, she knew you weren’t paying attention but let it slide. You were one of the best freelance editors she had. Your deadlines were always met, you were meticulous in your work and you could hold your own with the writers, even with some of the more arsehole creatures. The fact you weren’t paying attention was out of character. Glancing at the screen she knew the other two editors were on friendly terms with you and Tyler’s concerned face along with Marshall’s frown pushed her to break her usual ‘no casual chat’ protocol.

“Y/N? Is everything ok?”

You felt a lump form in your throat. Was it that obvious that something was wrong? That someone that barely knew you would ask if you were ok?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you alright? You don’t seem like your usually bright, sarcastic self.” She said lightly trying to make light of the situation, when in all honesty you looked like shit, and this book was awful. You’d usually have given opening notes on how bad it was but you’d barely said hello.

“I’m fine” you replied too quickly for any of their liking.

“Are you sure kid? You don’t look good.” Marshall replied.

Tyler put his head in his hands. Fuck you were 100% going to lose it now. Marshall might have been 10 years older than you but him calling you kid was something you hated, him pointing out the obvious of you looking like death warmed up was sure to make you snark back.

“I’m fine. What was the question?”

Tyler couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open in shock. Where was the snarky reply?

Amanda repeated the question a frown across her forehead.

“We were going over plot issues?”

“One sec I have a list” you’d replied, reading them out like a shopping list, no usual sarcastic notes to go with them. As you rounded up the end of your notes the funny anecdotes were back but the glint in your eye that usually came with them wasn’t.

“It’s basically like he’s watched a bunch of Walking Dead, 28 Days Later, a couple of low budget movies and pushed them together. How the virus started has changed three times and we’re a third in.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s pause on this, put in your invoices so far and make a start on the next project.”

The next thirty minutes was spending prepping for the next project. This time a military and spy type drama, which was almost entirely human based.

“So it’s a fantasy drama then?” Tyler had quipped.

“Just make a start please.” Amanda replied pleadingly.

“Y/N? You OK to lead this one?” Marshall asked. You were looking out the window again.

“Y/N?” Amanda asked.

“Sorry what?”

“Are you good to lead? And actually what’s so interesting on that side of the room?” Amanda asked.

“The window.” Tyler replied for you.

“What?”

“I’ve been to her apartment, it’s the window.”

“What? I’m not doing anything?!” you interrupted.

“I just asked if you were good to lead?” Marshall asked softly again.

Clearly you weren’t. Leading meant checking everyone’s work, being thorough and you couldn’t even pay attention on a zoom call.

“Actually no.”

There was a flurry of gasps and widening eyes.

“Y/n?”

“I don’t have any military background, and I’m not entirely human am I so, I don’t think I should lead this one. I should be last edit.”

Your laptop pinged again.

Tyler What the fuck is going on?

You never take third!! You’re way too qualified for that.

Y/N what is going on?

You ignored it and looked back at the Zoom call. You were met with concerned faces. Amanda broke first.

“OK, why don’t we sleep on this and regroup tomorrow morning? But put in your invoices for the zombie trash.”

You nodded, trying to hold yourself together and left the call. You pushed down your emotions and pure exhaustion and decided going back to bed with a cup of tea and some chocolate was the answer. Yeah that was it, you were a bit hormonal and that was the problem. It had nothing to do with meeting one of your soulmates, your complete lack of self worth and the fact you were damaged, along with your ears now felt like they were on fire.

Yet none of that had stopped you looking out the window hoping to see Bucky again. It’s too wet and windy for dragons anyway.

As you pulled a mug from the drainer, your favourite mug no less, you caught it on the stack of plates, sending them towards the floor. Trying to catch them you caught the mug on the worktop and broke it in half.

It went downhill from there when you threw what was left of it on to the floor in your temper. This was quickly followed by you swiping all the other dishes off the drainer as a scream of frustration ripped from your throat. You burst into tears and slipped down on the floor and sobbed.

Your laptop pinged repeatedly. Messages and missed calls from your work colleagues.

Then Darcy.

Darcy Boo Can you pick up please? Tyler called. He said you were out of it on the work call. Are you ok?

Please? I’m worried.

Bucky Doll, is everything ok?

Precious, I’m going to need you to answer me.

I’m coming over there if you don’t reply.

Look, I know we aren’t bonded yet but I know something is off.

You have 5 minutes to reply or I’m coming over.

Answer me.

On the other side of the room, sitting on the floor among broken plates and mugs, your sobs slowed as you drifted off to sleep.

[strawberrypinky]

Would it be possible to get a sneak peak or snippet for chapter 4 of fire & ice👀👀 it’s completely fine if not. This fic has just been living in my brain rent free.

Or could we hear any of your headcanons for Elodie or Enver, or both?💖💖

Me? Getting to yap about my fic? For free?? BET.

First of all, THANK YOU Love xx. It truly makes my day when I hear people love my little passion project 💕

And of course you can get a sneaky little sneak peek:

All his claiming of superiority and imputing the dregs of society he once belonged to with an inferiority that could have been his had ceased to exist as he stood in that ballroom, Archduke of Baldur's Gate and a wife at his side. Elodie had scarcely looked at him all night, her face frozen with a perfectly manicured smile and an impeccable veneer of politeness whenever someone congratulated them, though Enver could see it slipping in moments where she thought none would see. A gentle quiver of her lip, a solemn tear escaping from her eye – it was a foolish display of weakness. He would reprimand her for it, and Bane tutted impatiently in his mind for allowing the impudence, but Enver supposed the privacy of their bedroom would serve as a more suitable location, specifically since their actual wedding in the eyes of his Lord would still need to take place priorly, and he'd much rather have her cooperating.

The wife of Bane's Chosen wouldn't show defiance - not in the eyes of the congregation and their Lord.

She would kneel and submit - to Bane, to Enver, their protection, their will.

Enver knew in spite of her defiance, she was astute and would come to understand he acted in her best interest and he was not unnecessarily cruel but, in fact, benevolent. Enver was not Nubaldin, who had delighted in being heuristic about his newest methods of abuse. Raphael had bid his time until Nubaldin had at least beat him to sufficient submission, though he was no less vituperative when he finally did acknowledge him. And though the cambion had preferred to use his chthonian tongue, at times, he was incensed enough to take a swing himself. Enver was unlike either of those two – he did not love Elodie, and he never would. Love was futile, a powerful but perilous means of control, and he would never allow himself that, though he doubted it was even possible for him to love another. Love was a fantasy for fools and the unlucky, and Enver was neither. He would give her anything she could ever want if only she asked; trust, companionship, power, sex, the world - but he could not give her love.

"We should take our leave soon," he bent down, whispering in her ear, before returning his attention to Lord Shattershield and the wine goblet in his hand. He felt her tensing up beneath his hand, but he paid her little mind as his gaze swept over the crowds one final time.

The Liardon family, it seems, had invited what seemed like every proud patriar and affluent merchant of the Gate, the crowd an amalgamation of bohemian intellectuals, eclectic artisans, tenacious militants and gaudy devisees. He could see his own parents gabbing with Counsellor Florrick, Selise Liardon scarcely hanging on in her poor health, yet the woman smiled brightly at Lady Jannath and her substitute husband – an artist Enver had never heard of before. Her companions stood off to the side, their eyes betraying the fury they felt, and yet they stood quietly as they chatted amongst themselves before finally, Enver espied Duke Liardon, whose eyes were hardened, the man a light shade of pink as he drowned his sorrows in a goblet of Elverquisst and half-heartedly listened to Duke Porytr's monologue. Enver's victorious smirk only widened, the defeat in the Duke's eyes only adding to his ecstasy as he tightened his grip on Elodie in a mocking display, dismissing her squeak of protest as he relished in his victory.

He had won – well and truly won, and there were no two ways about it. Elodie Liardon – Gortash, he corrected himself – was eternally his. They would build the kingdom he had been promised, ascending to the rightful station of Bane's most worthy – his most faithful. In mere moments, she would submit herself to Bane with utterances and body, and Enver shivered in delight as he thought of her kneeling at his feet before they would lose each other in ecstasy. He was certain Bane would reward them well for each malevolent punishment his Dark Lord bestowed benevolent largesse if he was particularly pleased with his followers.

As for headcanons? Well, let’s see…

Enver is a bit of a glutton as a result of being starved as a child in the Hells. He also has a bit of a stomach as a result.

Elodie speaks several languages, such as Common, Chondathan, Elvish, Alzhedo and Illuskan. She’s also fairly proficient in several dialects and knows a little Drow. Enver, on the other hand, only knows Common, though he has a decent knowledge of Infernal due to his time in the Hells.

Elodie would be a Bard if she wasn’t a Sorcerer. She also feels more elven than human, despite being primarily raised by a human mother.

If he had been raised in a loving family, Enver would’ve been a Cleric of Gond whose inventions actually helped people/Baldur’s Gate.

This will be more important in upcoming chapters, but: Neither Elodie nor Enver want children, and both of them have their own reasons for that. Enver does, however, always follow Bane’s command, so he demands they have them anyway.

[influenzalake]

yandere Damian Wayne going through puberty headcanons (suggestive themes)

touch starved dami centric

y/n reader , they/them pronouns

MINORS DNI

- - -

Both of Damian's parents were very emotionally unavailable and did not show him a lot of physical affection. Most people at all stages of his life would never gamble enough to try to get close enough to Damian much less try and hug him or something. When Damian hits puberty it starts catching up to him. He gets these feelings, these desires. It hits him like a truck. 

- He thinks back into his early life and is bitter than he was never given the love he feels he deserves. He can't help but think of his parents. They are the closest thing to an intimate relationship around him. 

- He becomes unhealthily interested in bodies. How they look and why they look like that. How different they can all be.  

- He thinks of his father. His father's great stature. His muscled body. How his blood flows through his own veins. His father has always been his idol, but as he steps through the landmine of puberty he praises his mother's evilness for a minute. He will someday look like Bruce. He thinks of himself at his prime and what he may finally be able to enjoy. Love. Intimacy. Happiness. 

- He thinks of his mother and... and her body. He is horrified by these thoughts. Damian tries to tackle this logically. He is thinking of his mother because of his hormones and this is the closest female person he has,   or had. 

- Damian's mother was beautiful. Sensual and knew how to use it. He always remembers her... her bosom, being open in some way. Tactically it is a great strategy for when she crossed paths with men who could be weak to such visuals. 

- WEAK. This is how Damian views himself. But his new needs are never met and it is eating him from the inside out. 

- He 100% turns into a breast man whether he likes it, (or chooses to acknowledge it), or not. 

- When he meets Y/n these feelings finally have something to attach to. He projects all of his desires and fantasies immediately. 

- He wants to adorn them in the finest clothes. He wants to sketch and draw them and only them. He is obsessed with this fine creature. 

- His body is changing too, and he assumes Y/n will have similar weaknesses to him.

- This boy is constantly finding excuses to wear clothes tighter than usual. He is never caught in an unflattering outfit, that is when he wears clothing at all. Sometimes going shirtless is the best bet.  He's here to play hardball. 

- As time passes he is starting to be more accepting and understanding of this process. It is also much easier when he has Y/n to be his focus. He also starts to fall more into a yandere view of things. Y/n is going through the same thing right? They should be experiencing the same torment,,, right   ?

- Damian is more curious than ever. He wants to know what Y/n is feeling, thinking, dreaming of. After all, it is only natural. Damian would be doing a favor by granting Y/n his patience and being there for them when they... need him. 

- He knows what the human body looks like, of course he does!    But, he has never been able to - enjoy one. He wants to take his time. He wants to touch. To feel. He wants to explore. He wants to do this all with Y/n. He wants to share this once in a lifetime experience with them. 

- Damian's family has started to notice he is acting different. Alfred was the first to figure it out, no surprise there. Bruce has his sneaking suspicions, but is avoiding the awkward topic. Dick noticed, asked Alfred, and it overjoyed about his lil bat's new crush. Tim and Jason could really care less, though this is another opportunity to tease Damian. 

- Damian will deny and deny until his second death. No way in red hell he would be caught in this mess. With some internal struggle, Damian sees how this can be used to his advantage. He has a family full of older and experienced males that have all gone through this before. 

- Forgoing his pride, he asks for advice. 

- This changes his views even more. He will not admit this, but he now has a new outlook on what his future could really be. He understands his feelings more and finds he also has new ones. 

- Damian finds himself craving the same intimacy, but in other forms. The mundane and domestic become exciting, something he looks forward to. 

- To share a kiss every hello and goodbye, sharing secrets and enduring through time together, to have Y/n's full attention and trust

- He feels he has passed a threshold. He feels he can respect himself and these feelings more.  He still has his confusing moments sure, but Damian feels like he just has more life in him.

- This young man has blossomed into a hopeless and sickened romantic.  

[faegoddessog]

Fantasy Come True CH 1/8

Chapter  1: Lumber Jason

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, sexual discussion, relationship troubles

Series Summary: Breaking into the acting world has been a life long dream. It's been tough, plus your relationship with you partner has some struggles, but who doesn't have struggles. A new guy shows up to your improv classes who seems strangely familiar. He seems rather interested in you and you feel unusually comfortable around him, like he projects calm and reassurance. Once you realize who he really is, and what he really likes... it's game on. 

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

A/N: This little gem is per request for the lovely and talented @purejasmine . It's been a collaborative project designed to meet her every Austin need as best I can. Here's to you darling! <clink> I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed the creative process with parameters not wholly my own!!

Here is the Masterlist of this series.

Message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

Chapter 1: Lumber Jason

You were having a hard time with your relationship. You loved him, sure, trusted him 100%, he was nothing if not honest with you, sometimes brutally so. All good things, to have in a relationship. But there was one thing that just didn’t click all the way. Sex. You loved sex, you even had it often with him. But he couldn't make you orgasm to save his life. Ok, maybe ‘couldn’t’ was a bit harsh. He just wasn’t interested in putting in the time and effort to get you off. For a long time you had been content to just do it yourself after sex. 

Recently though, you had heard about overstimulation and had become deeply intrigued. You knew he wouldn’t be willing to try it, but in the spirit of honesty and communication, you talked to him about it. He joked and blew it off. It’s hurtful, but you are an accommodating partner, even if he isn’t, so you dropped it. At least to his face. It’s been tormenting your mind of late. You’ve read online fics about it and you are just starting to daydream about what else may be out there for you. Would you leave the security and safety of your relationship over something like this? Your practical mind says definitely no. You had no real interest in trying to find someone else and you know there is only one circumstance that would make you leave this relationship, and that’s your Hall Pass contingency: Austin Butler. 

You walk into your Saturday afternoon improv class. Wearing your favorite sandals,  jeans and a women’s cut generic Disney shirt in black .   There are 3 people there, one you know, two are new.  You start off, as you do every class, with round robin stretches. Each person introducing themselves and saying one thing they did that week. 

“Hi I’m Rob,” says one of the new guys, pulling his leg up in a balanced runner's stretch. He went on a couple auditions this week. He is average height  blonde hair with jeans and a t-shirt, he’s average build, average voice, pretty average. 

The next person is a regular, Peter,  he does side stretches (as per usual) and says “I learned to cook salmon on the grill at my girlfriends’ parents house.” 

“Howdy, I’m Jason,” he has a nondescript midwestern accent, reaching down for his toes “I had a meetin’ this week about a new project that I got hired on for.” 

You assume it’s some kind of construction project or something, he is in scuffed up work boots, jeans and a flannel buttoned up, and rolled at the cuff. Jason rocks the lumberjack vibe, beard and everything. Although he looks a little too lean to go full-on lumberjack. There is something… familiar about him.

You introduce yourself and windmilling your arms, you are tempted to say ‘I learned what a pleasure dom is’ but that wouldn't be professional. “I um…went to a movie , actually in a theater. It’s been so long! I really missed it”. 

You notice that Jason seems to really pay attention to whomever is talking. It seems his eyes linger on you, casually looking you up and down, a fraction of a second longer than the others.  

You move into some warm up exercises.  Zip, Zap, Zop is about energy and eye contact. The name game is where everyone has physical gestures that go with their name. Jason swings an imaginary axe, Peter hops on one foot, you do sassy cross snaps, Rob tosses his hands in the air. 

You notice the intensity Jason is putting into the games, how when he passes to you, a little shiver makes you clench. You are almost taken aback, you just don’t react to people like this, and beards aren’t usually your thing. Weird.  Again you feel like you’ve seen him before, but can’t quite put your finger on it. 

At the break, Jason comes up to you while you are drinking water. 

“Hey, ya’ll did great on that last one,” he says, a bit nervously. 

“Thanks,” you tuck a stray hair behind your ear a little shyly,” you did great too, have you been acting long?” 

“Yeah, since I was kid… uh back home,” he seems to falter a bit in his response. “Do you come to this class often?” he asks, putting the focus back on you.

“Yeah, almost every week, I really like how it stretches me,” you smile. The teacher claps their hands for the break to be over. 

“Huh, I might start coming more often then,” he winks at you as he turns around to walk back to his seat. 

You can’t help but watch him walk away. Wow, he is pretty from this angle. 

Wait a second, did lumber-Jason  just flirt with you? Holy Crap. Did you lead him on somehow?   He jets out at the end of class, on his phone, before you can talk to him again.  Maybe it was in your mind, weird. You try to shrug it off, but deep inside you just can’t. Something wasn’t quite right. 

He was already there when you walked in next week. He waved you over the second he saw you. 

“Howdy! Did you have a good week?” he asks warmly, shuffling his feet a little. 

“Yeah, you?” It's uncanny how you feel comfortable around him.

“Yeah, I have a lot going on and I just needed…. I’m really looking forward to class today.” He smiles. 

All class he situates himself next to you, partners with you. It’s fun and easy and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear there were sparks between you.  You really liked going to improv class, but it’s never filled you up like this before. 

The next week, you came to class early,  telling yourself  you are not looking for Jason to show up and no you did NOT wear your cute black wonder woman t-shirt on purpose. You just like how it hugs your curves perfectly and shows off your girls. You are starting to feel disappointed and your practical side is shaking its head at you when, two minutes before class starts, Jason walks in. 

You thumb your nose at your practical side and sit up straighter. 

He is wearing black jeans, his scuffed work boots and a black t-shirt with an open flannel. He has on a trucker hat with some sort of horse logo on it. He looks around, catches your eye and makes a bee line to the spot next to you, murmuring apologies for being late. 

In each warm up exercise he sends nearly everything to you.  He treats you like a friend, making side comments and laughing with you. It’s weird, but interacting with him feels really natural and that’s not… natural. You end up getting paired with him in one game. He picks Rhett Butler and Scarlet O’hara you say cooking breakfast, he says in a closet. 

“Is touch ok?” he asks, you nod.

You squish your back up to his side dramatically. He begins a pantomime of stirring a bowl over your head. He’s roughly 6’1”, you are, with your sandals on, about 5’8”.

“Scarlett, pass the eggs will you” he says in a passable Rhett Butler voice. 

“But Rhett, darling,” you turn awkwardly, taking tiny steps in a ‘cramped’ space, making it funny with his arms in your face. You grab his shirt front and lean dramatically into him “I’m sorry we… we don’t have any eggs left, the soldiers took them all, the chickens too!” you fake cry into his front. You feel his breath catch as you bury your head in his chest. 

Holy fuck he smells really good, like trees and lavender and amber. His long fingers  wrap around yours, and he tilts your chin up to look at him. As your eyes meet, something jolts your stomach.  He is staring intensely into your eyes and it’s like he’s staring into your very soul.  He is saying something… you can’t concentrate. Why? Because being this close you notice the freckles on his left cheek and forehead and just how blue his eyes really are. 

For a split second, your eyes widen in recognition. You know exactly who this is, and his name isn’t Jason. You almost melt into him, legs going weak. Oh well at least it’s in character.  Thank god you’ve been doing this improv class for long enough that you can hold your shit together enough to finish the scene. They all applaud  as ‘Jason’ ends with “Frankly, I don’t give a damn about the pancakes,” pantomimes opening the closet door,  and walking away with his bowl. 

You go back to your seat. You aren’t even paying attention to the next scene as your mind is racing.  It all falls into place. You covertly watch him next to you. He is watching the scene. You feel almost stupid that you didn’t see it right away, his eyes, his hands, the fullness of his exposed bottom lip. Clearly he doesn’t want to be recognized, the accent, the beard, the darker than usual hair. But once you see it, it’s all so clear. 

You decide to be a good human and leave him his anonymity. Maybe he really misses being a regular actor in classes. I mean, you think about how much you enjoy coming to class, he must as well. Maybe you can ask him for his number before he leaves. You can just chalk it up to industry connections. Maybe then you can somehow let him know that you know, without it being weird. 

On the break, ‘Jason’ saunters up to you getting a drink of water. He is exceptional at masking his natural gait. This is not surprising, you know how good he is. 

“Hey, that was great, ya’ll really have that southern bell thing down. I thought you might faint right in my arms,” he takes a pull on his water bottle. 

“Yeah you too, So very Rhett  of you,” you smile, not daring to tell him that you almost did pass out, ”you did great with his voice.” 

“Thanks, hey, um… what are you doing after this?” he locks eyes with you again. 

“Oh… just going home,” you almost say something about your partner.

“Want to get a bite?”  he says before you can say anything. 

What? Wait… did he just ask you out?

“Yes, I’d like that,”  you try to stay chill. “I’ve been meaning to try this little place nearby.” 

You are sitting in the corner of the overwhelmingly green dining room of Chifa. It kind of reminds you of a rich girls 1995 Jersey boudoir but with Chinese and Peruvian food. They are moderately busy. 

“So tell me about yourself,” he starts in before you can let him know that you know who he is. Yup, still the midwestern accent. 

You smile, knowing that it’s all fake but wanting to tell him about yourself too. You figure it's only fair that he learns about you, since you know ALL about him. Well, everything that is public anyway. As you start to talk, again you get that feeling of perfect naturalness in being around him, like you’ve been friends  for years. 

You talk about how you are trying to break into acting and how you know you have an uncanny ability to spot talent in people. He is laser focused on you, leaning forward and nodding. Just as you are about to talk about your partner. The waiter comes to the table..  

“Oh I haven’t looked at the menu!” ‘Jason’ says,  picking it up.

“May I? If you are good with sharing a few things,” you inquire, holding your hand on his menu. Your fingertips touch his briefly, it’s like lightning.  He waves you on with an interested look on his face. 

“Any allergies I should know about?” you ask. He just shakes his head. 

You open the menu, you’d checked it out before and had a good idea of what they had. 

“First for drinks, I absolutely HAVE to get the Yo Yo Good4U on my tastebuds. I love sparkling anything,” you say as an aside to ‘Jason’, “ also I want to taste the Chichi Morado and the Lai Chai. Do you want anything alcoholic to drink?” 

“Sure, you pick,” he waves his hand again.

Your tail is almost wagging in your seat as he puts his oral satisfaction in your hands. 

“How about a Drunken’ Yuzu?” your eyebrows up in askance. He nods. 

“We will have the Lomo Soltado,  the Brule Char,  and the Siu Anticucho,” your eyes expertly glide over the menu, “Ooo and the Traditional Zongzi, Tiradito and um… the Dan Dan Mien. And,” you take a big breath, “for dessert, let's try the Alfajores,  oh I have to get the Black Sesame Cheesecake Tart  and the Taro Coconut Cake Bar. And of course  we need the ice cream, “you look over your menu, “as a palate cleanser of course.”

“Of course” he says slowly, wondering what on earth is happening. 

“Which flavors Miss,” asks the waiter.

“Hmmm, fior di latte,  almond jelly, and  black tahini, please.” 

“Oh silly me, we need to get our veggies in! Let’s round this out with Wok-Hay Vegetables.”

“With the lap chueng?” he asks. 

“Yes please,” you hand the waiter your credit card immediately, considering your huge order. 

“Very good,” says the waiter, taking the card and walking away. 

“I’m a growing boy, but whoa, you really meant it when you said ‘try’ the restaurant,” ‘Jason’ is looking at you like you are a little crazy ordering all that food. 

You giggle at his look

“What, we aren’t going to eat ALL of it right now, I just have slutty little taste buds,“ you wink playfully, “plus I freakin’ love lots of leftovers,  it’ll keep my partner happy too, for being out later.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you had a partner…” he tries not to look crestfallen. 

“Yeah, I was getting to that…  but we are in a weird spot right now. Or at least I am.“ you smile reassuringly. 

“Can I ask what’s going on?” he says with concern in his eyes. Fuck how is it that he barely knows you, but can convery more care for your well being than your partner of years. 

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I care about him and I trust him,  but he just..” you wonder if it’s TMI, but you are too far in now to change the subject. Plus, if not now, when? “he doesn’t act like he cares about me sexually, Austin,” you say without even realizing you said his name until it was too late. His eyes go wide and he nods. You just wait to see how he reacts.

“Well, there’s a lot to unpack in that sentence” he says low and quiet but without missing a beat. His midwestern accent slipping by the wayside. 

“Mm hmm,” you press your lips and your thighs together, not able to think straight when you hear his sultry baritone voice waft across the table. You fear that things will change now. 

“Let’s start here: Tell me why you feel he doesn't care about you, is he not interested in sex with you.” He takes another sip and settles down to listen. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

“Well, no, we have a decent amount of sex. I’m very accommodating, it’s sort of like a love language, I guess. But he’s like… not.”  you say, trying to be tactful. You don’t really like to smack talk your partner, you’d not want him to talk bad about you. But on the other hand, truth is truth. 

“Hmm,” Austin is leaning on his fist, a little frown on his face and lips pursed together. His long legs crossed under the table. You can see his natural mannerisms coming out now. Damn he is amazing. 

“Ok,” he leans back, hands threaded into one another on the table, “second: How long have you known?” 

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and nod your forehead to him. 

He nods back. 

“Today, during the closet cooking scene, I’m sorry my almost fainting wasn’t acting,” you laugh. “although, I thought you looked a little familiar. I thought maybe someone from college or something.”

“Wow, I made almost three whole classes!” he says laughing and leaning back towards you. 

“I haven’t told anyone, I figured you were trying to be incognito to enjoy class,  so I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I’m good at keeping secrets. I think you could keep going.” 

“Well thank you kindly ma’am.’ he says with his accent back and touching the brim of his hat, “I may just do that.”

He doesn’t ask you anything else about your bedroom problems, in fact doesn't address your partner at all. Instead he treats you like a great friend, and you, grateful that he didn’t bolt or put a wall up, treat him the same. Honestly, it’s a dream come true. You talk about the love of acting and why you both are into it. About why LA is home and what about it has shaped you. 

When the plates and plates of food arrive, you two treat it like a wine or whiskey tasting. Each of you tries a little of the same thing. There is a lot of passionate talk about what you are eating, you use words like smoky, earthy, robust, pungent, acidic, umami, and delicate.  You talk about texture and mouthfeel, aromas and memories that are brought to the forefront. Together you don’t eat a quarter of what’s in front of you. You send the rest to be boxed up. 

Then the deserts come out. You bite into the cheesecake and your eyes flitter closed. Appreciative noises float from your throat as you roll the flavors around your tongue, taking your time to really taste.When you open your eyes, Austin is watching you with a tinge of lust in his eyes and his mouth slightly open as you unwittingly sexualize cheesecake. He blinks and blows out an almost whistle.

“Damn, that must be one helluva tart,” he says almost under his breath. 

You cock one eyebrow, lick your lip and look him right in the eye, “Oh, it is.” 

His hand slides from resting on his thigh to pulling the inseam of his jeans, creating some suddenly needed space. He covers his squirming by adjusting in his seat. Well, he thinks he does. You notice every minute detail and heat rises to your face directly from your core. 

He nods his chin towards the plate, his fingers doing a little ‘come on’ curl. 

With a forkful, you reach over the desert laden table. He opens his mouth and looking you in the eye, lets you place it on his tongue like a communion wafer. The sexual tension is thick between you. He closes his eyes with an audible  Mmmm, of pleasure, nodding in agreement. You rock forward in your chair,  wondering if you are going to cum in your panties right there. By the time he opens his eyes and looks at yours, you hope your face is some semblance of ‘normal.” He just smiles at you like he knows exactly what he just did to you. 

By the end of the dinner, You have several boxes to take home, Austin has a couple sample type boxes. And somehow ends up paying for all of it despite your attempt to thwart him earlier, damn sexy gentleman. He puts your phone number in his phone and says he’ll text you. You hope to god that it’s not just a brush off. 

You drive home on fucking cumulonimbus cloud nine. With a story you’ll likely never fully tell your partner, several boxes of delicious food and a promise that ‘Jason’ will show up next week. 

Your partner is so giddy that you brought home food, that he barely hears your story about how you were out with someone in the industry that you met at class and how you were talking shop. He liked that you were making connections. You didn’t DARE tell him it was actually Austin, not yet anyway.  

[miradelletarot]

Part 4: Under the Moonlight - The Weave and the Vines

Summary: Sagora meets Gale outside of camp for a private moment under the stars.

ACT TWO SPOILERS Don't judge me, this was my very first foray into smut writing, and I adored this scene so much I used some of the lines from the game because they were just too good to replace. Sorry not sorry. I have made some edits/improvements though so hopefully it reads better than it used to. TAGS: Fluff, hurt/comfort, body worship, PIV, Fem!OC , very unexciting but productive use of mage hand. Words: 4,000 | AO3 MINORS DNI - SMUT UNDER THE CUT

“Good evening! I’m here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep.  He wishes to extend you an invitation for a private conversation in a more suitable locale.”Sagora tilted her head, confused as to what Gale was up to. He said to come to his tent this evening, but she expected him, not a projection. Still, her curiosity was piqued so she followed the projection’s instructions, and traveled the path set before her. She arrived a little ways outside of camp to see Gale sitting in a lush, grassy field. Fireflies flitted nearby him as conjured sparks of the Weave surrounded him in a glittering aura. He heard her soft footsteps coming from behind, and turned to look at her. He smiled. “I love this time of night.” She smiled back, and quietly sat on the blanket next to him. He spoke so eloquently, so gently, about the peak of darkness, of eternity. Suddenly, she was snapped out of the daze his voice lulled her into.

“ –The timelessness of lovers. That most beautiful of fantasies.”   His eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky. She could drown in those eyes. They made her insides swirl, and her heart skip, but she noticed a shift in his gaze. A hollow feeling seated itself in the pit of her stomach. “This may be my last night alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder.” He turned his gaze from Sagora towards the iridescent night sky. Translucent waves of purples, blues, and greens blanketed the starry landscape he created.  He needed an escape from his inevitable reality.

“Gale, do you really think this is the right choice? To die for a goddess who so casually cast you aside like a piece of rubbish?”

“It’s Mystra’s will. If she thinks that this can turn the tide of our most unfortunate of circumstances then perhaps I should.” He hung his head. Saying the words out loud make sense enough, but the knots in his stomach tugged at him with hesitation and uncertainty.

“You’re quite brave to face this so…so calmly.”

Gale let out a faint chuckle. “Truth be told? I’m terrified. But, that doesn’t change anything about the task I’ve been given.” “You don’t have to do this, you know.  All of us - together - we can figure something out I’m sure of it.” Desperation washed over Sagora’s face. Was he truly willing to die for such a cause without considering other options?

“I appreciate the sentiment. Really.  My fate is inevitable, I'm afraid. Best to meet it on my own terms.”  His words sounded so confident, but the pained look in his eyes spoke otherwise. “This is ridiculous. Gale, you don’t have to die. There are so many possibilities that lay before us. You have all of us, for better or worse. Let’s figure it out together. No one needs to die…especially for the sake of an ungrateful goddess.” Sagora furrowed her brows at the mere thought of Mystra. Gale didn’t need her anger though. She wanted to comfort him as he did for her days before, though he could sense the rising fury within her that she tried to keep hidden. “ Sorry …I didn’t mean to – ” Her words trailed off as she cast her gaze to the ground. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew her anger would ruin a lovely evening if she continued. An awkward silence hung in the air. Gale understood that she was angry about his new mission. Yet, he couldn't imagine anyone caring so deeply for him. It only made him fall for her more. “One moment with you could sate me for a lifetime. I’m so very glad you came.” He turned to Sagora, and smiled softly. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” She returned his smile with one of her own, and placed her hand on his. His skin felt electric and warm, still charged with traces of the Weave. “I know this is unreal, but I created it for you.” He paused. He was unsure how she would react to his confession. “You must know that you’re...you’re very special to me.”  He wanted nothing more than to be back home, in Waterdeep, showing her all the wonders the City of Splendors had to offer. To do things properly. But, they were all on borrowed time. The luxuries of a proper courtship wouldn’t be possible. Say the words, Gale. It's now or never. “I’m in love with you.” Sagora saw trepidation, adoration, and anxiety flood his gaze all at once. His words echoed in her ears as the heat rose from her core, and pricked at her skin. Her body moved of its own accord as her lips caressed his. Her impulse was all the response he needed for his confession. Softer than the finest silk, he thought.  The sensation sent shivers through him. Such a delicate touch evoking the most fervent response. He didn’t need to hold back this time. Since Elminster stabilized the orb, Gale was free to feel as deeply as he wished. For now. Taking Sagora’s hand, they stood together. “I want it to be perfect.” He sincerely and excitedly shared his ideal evening with her. Within the Weave, bonding like the gods do. To intertwine their spirits in an ethereal landscape with no mortal limitations. “All of that sounds lovely, Gale. But –”

“But ?”

She sighed softly as she cupped his face in her hands. “I don’t need illusions. I want you. Just. You.”

He stepped back with a gentle smile. “If that is what you wish, so be it.” With a flourish of his hand he conjured a bed. It had been so long since Sagora lay in an actual bed. While it was still an illusion, it was real enough for her to dive into. It felt plush on her skin, and smelled of freshly washed linens. Truly, a delight to her senses after a long period of dirt, blood, and a flat bedroll.

She propped herself up on one side so she could look at him. Her eyes darkened with desire as she tapped seductively on the bed, and waved him over. He sauntered over to the edge of the bed, and grazed his hands up her body as he climbed up to meet her. Her pulse quickened as his hands explored her over her garments. She was suddenly overcome with a soft, whispered giggle. Gale paused. The deepening desire that was once on his face was now replaced with confusion, and concern. “Is everything ok?” He really wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. She grinned wildly. “Yes . It’s just -”

“We can stop if you’re not comfortable.” “No! Gods no. I just - haven’t - it’s been a while.” Her cheeks flushed. “And - I’ve never been...romanced before. I quite like it.” She looked away, and bit her lip sheepishly. His gaze softened, and he smiled. He lowered himself down to whisper in her ear. “Then let me take care of you.” Her eyes flashed at his request. “Me? Why?” Their faces were so close their noses nearly touched. He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead before he sat up.

“Because you deserve it. You’ve done so much, Sagora. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.” His eyes darkened once again. “I told you. I want it to be perfect.” She was fairly certain she forgot to breathe. This was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, but she yearned to experience everything Gale wished to offer her. With a gentle smile and a nod, she gave her unspoken consent, allowing him to pleasure her as he wished.

He extended his hand to her, shifting enough so she could sit up. With his other hand, he slid his arm around her waist, and pulled her in closer to his chest. His fingers lingered at the hem of her tunic. “May I ?” He whispered. He dared not move an inch unless she gave her permission.

“Please.” She gazed at him as he gingerly pulled the garment over her head, and carelessly tossed it aside. He placed his hands on her shoulders, and began tracing his fingers down the length of her body. Her collarbone , her breasts , her stomach . His breath shuddered with every contact of her delicate, exposed skin. But, this moment was for her. He’ll tend to his own desires later.

Gale gently patted her thigh. “Roll over, and lie down.” She flashed a curious smirk at his gentle command, but was happy to acquiesce. When he straddled her thighs he noticed the moonlight had illuminated a multitude of old scars on her back and sides. Some were large gashes, and more smaller cuts. If there were others he hadn’t noticed them in the darkness. Sagora could sense his delay, and looked over her shoulder. She knew what gave him pause. “It was a long time ago…” Thankfully, her vague statement was enough to dissuade him from any questions.

As if his touch couldn’t be any softer, he delicately traced one of the larger scars that went up her back. Then another, and another. He lowered himself down to her, pressing his body gently against her curves. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered into her skin as he began to kiss each scar tenderly. He sat back up, and whispered an incantation, a thin layer of oil coating his hands. He rubbed them together for warmth before he slid them up her spine, and spread them out to her shoulders. A moan mixed with pleasure and comfort was forced out of her as he massaged her sore muscles. “Gale...” Her call to him was muffled by the blankets beneath her. “Yes?” Sagora tried to respond, but all that came out of her were breathy moans, and incoherent mumbles as the tension left her body. He smiled knowingly, continuing his soothing ministrations.  “Are you comfortable?” All she could do was nod, completely overcome by his warm touch. As the oil began to absorb into her skin, he leaned down to her once more, and nuzzled the side of her neck. She giggled softly as his beard tickled her sensitive skin. “How do you feel, darling?” “Amazing.” Her face was slack, and still muffled by the blankets. A contented sigh passed her lips, and she smiled. “I'm glad.” He whispered, and left a gentle kiss on the back of her head. He removed himself from the softness of her body, and asked her to turn again. Sagora took a moment, humming a satisfying moan with her stretch, and savoring the lack of tension in her muscles as she rolled over onto her back. Gale draped his legs around her once more only to find more scars - ones he neglected to notice earlier. The darkness did well to shroud them before, but the moon didn’t allow her to hide her past so easily this time. He knew better than to ask who or what caused her such pain, but he couldn’t help the heat that rose within him. It took all of his will to keep his rising anger from showing itself when his purpose in that moment was to make her feel comfort.

Still, it didn’t discourage him from repeating his adoration as he did before. He lovingly caressed and kissed every scar that painted her flesh. “I swear,” he muttered against her skin, “I’ll protect you so you’ll never have to endure this pain again. If you'll let me.”  

Sagora released a trembling sigh as Gale continued to explore more of her with his delicate lips. He then settled on the curve of her exposed neck, grazing her skin with passionate kisses to her jawline. He lingered by her ear, and playfully nibbled at her soft flesh. She hummed, delighting in the way he felt as his body pressed into her, his cock straining against his robes. He released a soft growl as he seductively tugged at her lobe once again, the vibration sending a chill down her body, her breath hitching at the sensation. She thought she might lose herself from the voracity of her sinful need.

“ Gale –” She huffed. “ Please –” She could hardly speak. “I need you.” 

A wicked grin flashed across his face. “Now, now, my love. Patience. You’ll have me. I promise .” His voice was low and rough as he caressed his cheek against hers. The want in her eyes was growing desperate, and he was enjoying watching her come undone by his touch alone. Slowly and deliberately, he slid his hand up the side of her body, and settled at her breast, filling his hand perfectly. He deftly flicked her nipple with his thumb, and an uncontrollable moan emanated from deep within her. He left a trail of soft kisses down from her neck to her other breast, and took her into his mouth while he continued to play with its mate. She arched her back, writhing under him as his tongue swirled and flicked at its peak. Her walls fluttered, clenching around nothing as she snaked her hands through his tousled hair, her arousal dripping between her legs the more he teased her. The vibration of his moan against her hardened peak forced a shuddering whimper from her lips, throwing her head back as she felt the urgency of his own pleasure begging her for more – begging to be released from its bondage.  Even Gale was growing impatient with the pace he set. Slowly, he grazed his bottom lip across her peak, his eyes meeting her gaze, and lips curling into a seductive smirk at the sight of her. Marking the abandoned spot with a kiss, he sat up and drew his hands down her stomach, finding the laces on her trousers. “Is this ok?” he asked as he played with the laces.

Sagora's eyes darkened with wanton hunger. “Not yet. I want something first.” As he reached for her outstretched hand, she hooked his fingers into hers, and pulled him back down onto her. Unsure as he was, Gale was not displeased with her intensity. She pressed her lips to his, the tip of her tongue teasing at the seam. He parted his lips, allowing her to slip past, their tongues now swirling together, one desperate for the other. Her hips bucked into him as she explored more of him, the fire of their embrace growing more passionate the more they tasted each other. Gods was he delicious. He tasted of honeyed wine, warm, spicy, and sweet. She brought her hands to his cheeks, pulling him away just enough so their noses touched. “I want to undress you…please.” She was breathless. Wanting. Needing. He smiled and pulled himself back, taking her hand as he did so. They stood at the edge of the bed, Sagora grazing her hands up Gale’s chest and down again. He watched her as she reached up slowly, she unclasping the small buckles that held his robes closed, doing so with tenderness like he was a gift meant to be carefully unwrapped. The fabric folded over itself begging to be removed completely, her fingers gently scratching through the small patch of hair on his bare chest. The scars left behind by the orb were now exposed by the vacant garments. She traced her fingers around it, following every wispy line, his breath hitching at her touch. She leaned into his chest, and blew a cool breath at the center of the orb before leaving behind a delicate kiss. He rolled his head back, and his eyes forced themselves shut, unable to stifle the shuddering, breathless moan that left his body. Sagora gripped onto the sides of his robes, and buried her face into his chest, kissing the now glowing orb, in an attempt stabilize her own trembling body. Gale put a finger to her jawline, tilting her head so she could look into his eyes. He moved his hands to hers, and guided her to his belt. She unfastened its buckle, allowing it to drop unceremoniously to the ground. His robes fell open as she slid her hands up to his shoulders, coaxing the garment to fall of its own accord. Once he was freed from his robes, he reached up to her hands and guided them down to the ties on his trousers. She smiled coquettishly as she bit her lip, reveling in the way he grasped her hands, and moved them to places they both desired. Before he let her go, she pulled his hand to the hem of her own trousers. They unwound each other’s laces, but Sagora stepped back against the edge of the bed as soon as he loosened her ties. She wanted to make a show of seductively – sinfully - lowering her trousers and her smalls to the ground. She wanted to put herself on display. Just for him to behold.

He swallowed hard. “Well – aren’t you a sight for these starving eyes.” He stepped closer to her, hooking an arm around her waist, the other cupping her cheek. “But I think I’ll require your assistance getting these off .” He knew by now that whispering in her ear made her shiver, but was equally happy to take advantage of the opportunity to press her naked body against him. She moaned into his chest as she slid her hands across the waistband of his loosened trousers. He placed his hands on hers, and together, pulled them down, along with his underclothes, discarding them with the rest of the abandoned garments at their feet, finally freeing Gale’s hardened cock.

Sagora looked at him with a devilish, playful smirk. “ Now, Mr. Gale of Waterdeep –” Every word she said was coyly enunciated. “What was it you wanted to do to me?” He moved in closer, forcing her to sit at the edge of the bed. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling his body into her. She whimpered, her slick cunt throbbing as his cock brushed against her inner thigh. "Whatever you desire." His deep brown eyes burned into her. She couldn't hold back any longer. “I’m yours.” Her eyes grew impossibly dark with want. “I need you.”

“You have me, Love.” He purred. “Lie down.” She followed his instruction, making herself comfortable. He climbed on top of her, pressing his leg between hers to spread her open before him. Heat rose from her center as he lowered himself down to her, the curves of her body perfectly entwined with his. She bit back a moan as the tip of his cock teased at her bundle of nerves. He grasped his cock, and teased at her swollen clit as he began sliding his tip gently through her folds, her slick arousal mingling with the bead of precum that leaked from his throbbing erection.

“Gale. Please,” she mewled. He guided himself to her entrance, watching as he sheathed himself inside of her, a shuddered moan breaking past his lips as her wetness surrounded him. She eagerly attempted to rock her hips into his, but her movements were halted. He grasped her hips, and held her in place so he could keep a slow rhythm. It was torture for both of them, but he wanted to savor her as much as possible. He pulled himself out almost entirely before sliding back in, his controlled movements forcing a curse from her lips as the pressure of his girth stretched her slick walls. After a moment, he settled into a steady, deliberate rhythm. She gripped his forearms, and dragged her nails into his flesh as another curse escaped her lips. “More. Gods…Please. More!” Her words were breathless and ardent. “The gods…can’t give you…what you desire, my love.” His own eloquence breathlessly began to falter at the mercy of his coiling pleasure. “Gale!” She pleaded, her eyes piercing into him hungrily. Hands still on her hips, he slid his hands under her ass and pulled her up, the new angle allowing him to bury his cock deeper into her core. She wrapped her legs around him forcing him to fold, and brace himself on top of her. Their movements grew faster and less coordinated while beads of sweat glittered on her skin in the moonlight. Gale’s breath hitched at the delectable sight before him.

“Sagora… ahh –” His mind betrayed him, no longer able to utter anything coherent. All that could be heard were the sounds of their gasps and moans, and the friction of their slick bodies against each other.  Harder. She bucked her hips into him, his cock plunging deep into her core.

Faster. Desperately, they chased each other's pleasure. With every thrust, Sagora moaned louder and louder, no longer caring if the camp or even of Faerûn heard her.

She arched her back, lifting her arms over her head, gripping the pillows beneath her, and crying out in toe-curling ecstasy as she found her sweet release. Gale’s thrusts intensified as her walls pulsed around him. A deep, guttural moan poured out of him as he spilled deep inside of her. His concentration broke as his cock throbbed, sending shockwaves through her overstimulated body. They gasped for air in a dizzying frenzy, trying to come down from their high, when suddenly…

POOF!

The bed vanished beneath them, and they collapsed with a thud on the ground. Stunned, they simply looked at each other for a moment before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

“Dear Gods! Are you all right?” His concern blended with a fit of laughter at their hilarious climax. Her reply was thankfully tangled up in her own laughter. “I’m fine. Promise! Are you?” Gale winced, rubbing one of his knees.

“Never better.” Despite the dull ache in his joints, he couldn’t help but smile. Sagora gazed at him with satisfaction, nibbling at her bottom lip with a playful grin, paying little regard to the untimely break in their illusion. “Well...that’s not exactly how I wanted that to end.” He sat up, still nestled between Sagora’s legs. “Perhaps not.” She smirked. “But...hmm. How many blankets did you bring by the way?”

Gale cocked an eyebrow, looking at her inquisitively. “Uh, three. Why do you ask?” Sagora sat herself up, legs still splayed open before him. Grasping his arms, she pulled herself into his chest, her breasts grazing his skin with each breath she took. She walked two of her fingers up his chest, and dragged her fingertips through the slick of sweat that caught in his chest hair. “I think…we should make our own camp here tonight – ” She kissed the center of the orb, the salty taste of his sweat on her lips. “ – under the stars.” She kissed the orb again. “ – our bodies tangled up to keep warm.” She looked up and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her, and they pressed their foreheads together.

“That sounds lovely …but first –” With a nonchalant wave of his hand, the evidence of their climax had vanished. He offered his hand to her, and helped her to her feet, walking over to the blanket he spread out earlier, and leaving their clothing behind in an abandoned heap. She worked her own magic to make the ground more plush beneath the blanket. Lush grass, and small wildflowers cropped up through the entire field creating a soft, pillowy surface for them to lay on.

They spread themselves out on the blanket, Sagora nuzzling her body into Gale’s. She draped one of her legs around his while he made use of mage hand to help him fan out the extra blankets on top of them. She let out a contented sigh as the warmth of the blankets caressed her skin. He kissed the top of her head, and pulled her in closer, fitting together like two pieces of an intricate puzzle. The comfort of their embrace was enough to lull them both into the edge of sleep. “Gale…” “Hmm?” “I love you, too.” Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

[hwnglx]

do you have ANY idea what the jimin and jeongyeon beef was? or if there even WAS any 😭

i didn't look into their relationship fully, since these questions felt more right while reading. let me know if you want me to dive further into their dynamic and what happened. (update: right after posting i got asked to read more on their relationship so i will soon 🤍 stay tuned for that!)

was there any truth to the jimin + jeongyeon rumors?

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

was there any beef between them? pagofc&char, tower&4ofc, pagofp&knofc&kingofp

not to the extent of which it was made out to be. a lot of it was projection, people strongly pushing their own desired narrative on it.

they tried their best to ignore the rumors, but i think this all happened during a time where they might've been in a talking or flirty stage of some kind. so it caught them off guard and made things even more awkward between them. they knew their every move was gonna be overanalyzed, so it made things.. just awkward, best way to describe it.

how did jimin feel about the rumors? 3ofsw+3ofw+7ofsw, 2ofp&pagofsw, 9ofp, 10ofw&star, 9ofc

he was being very cautious. at first, he was taken aback by all the sudden talk. he felt like he was being watched way too closely and it was a little silly. this entire discourse made him realize how the community will just buy into any story if it's in their interest, and almost.. ignore actual reality, essentially not even care about it. the idea of the beef was more interesting than what actually happened behind closed doors, in his eyes.

it made him once again realize these are the things that come with being a public figure. i believe due to him being the more experienced idol out of the two, it didn't affect him all that much. he knew how to deal with things of this nature much better than jeongyeon.

still, i got the 3 of swords and kept asking what the reason is (since i did not get a "sad" vibe from him at all), and i believe he just didn't like how people started being so nosy about him and a person he was talking to. they probably were getting to know each other, things were still fresh anyway, so he felt the timing was just bad.

how did jeongyeon feel about the rumors? 5ofw&9ofsw, 10ofsw, star&9ofc, wheel&just

oh wow. jeongyeon definitely felt much stronger about it. it lowkey seemed to have messed her up.

the swords lead me to believe she thought a lot about it, a lot of anxiety on her part. she did not like all this back and forth talk about it at all. the 10 of swords is telling me, she just felt like she couldn't really do anything about the rumors. like there's no way out of it, no matter what she does or how she acts. people will continue to talk and everything will be misconstrued or matched to their fantasies in some way.

also, i believe it happened during a time where she had a lot of hope for their connection to blossom into something more. she genuinely seemed to have liked him, a lot of wishful thinking. so similarly to jimin, she thought the timing of it all was very unlucky, unfair almost.

idk, she gives me very self-victimizing and overly dramatic vibes. i can almost see her crying to her friends about it like.. "why would it happen now? while i was finally getting close to this guy i like and sht is awkward for me anyway?" very emotional girl for sure ☹

[ailelie]

Story ideas for future stories

Yulia Belsky. This is an urban fantasy with Yulia Belsky who keeps Chicago (because I live in Chicago) safe from supernatural threats, but this was also my attempt at pulling what I enjoyed about Batman fanfic into a new story. So, Yulia also ends up mother and/or mentor to a group of young women who join her in fighting and negotiating with the supernatural creatures. Yulia also has a best friend who is a social worker who helps with the many fostering/adoption situations, but who also alerts Yulia to issues.

Gabriel Torres. This is a superhero story set in the modern day and is actually a series of short stories about how people with powers integrate with a society that requires all empowered people to be registered. Empowered people must receive permission to use their powers and are mostly shuttled to the police. Gabriel Torres' story opens, closes, and threads through the others. He is unregistered (and undocumented), but a definite hero for his neighborhood and popular. Then he gets caught. I've had this idea for over a decade, but have never really written it because it doesn't feel like mine to tell.

What happens after you beat the big bad? This was my 2022 NaNo. It is an epistolary novel, though I am seriously reconsidering that aspect of it. This has a rather large cast and focuses on the politics of running the country after you destroy the longstanding government (in this case the Immortal Tyrant). This is probably my next project should the current ever end.

Laura Church & David Conroy. This is a superhero romance story in which two strangers marry each other in Vegas. Initially both are intent on an annulment, but then the hotel is attacked and David (a mastermind-type villain) realizes he has married Halley, a powerful superhero. The two work together to save the hotel and realize the attack was part of a larger conspiracy. After that, David refuses to separate. Laura swears him to secrecy and returns to her normal life to report the attack on the hotel. But, their lives keep intersecting and the need to defeat the conspiracy before it acts again brings them together as well. Snippets of this story are buried in this blog.

Ultimogeniture. The heir to a kingdom learns that his newborn baby sister is the actual heir, but his father is dead and his mother dies in childbirth. His older relative would be her regent and the young man cannot let that happen. No one knew his mother was pregnant, though (she wasn't showing yet before they went into seclusion to mourn his father). No one save him, his deceased father, the midwife, and the midwife's assistant. So the young man proposes to the midwife's assistant and asks to pass his baby sister off as their daughter so that he can become king. He can abdicate in her favor when she's old enough. The assistant reluctantly agrees. Since she's been staying with the queen, no one knows she hasn't been pregnant. Romance does eventually happen, but the focus is on becoming a family and defeating the twisted politics threatening to ruin the kingdom. (This idea is from 2012)

[nanalacana]

Good Things Are Coming

She was happy they met again.

She knew it the moment she saw his kind eyes, his pleasant smile. He was more attractive than she remembered. It was late December, cold, and Amsterdam was dressed up and festive.

He evoked a special feeling in her—a mix of novelty and nostalgia. He reminded her of what she wanted to feel with a boy, of the fantasies she had as a young girl. It was the good kind of feeling: safe, child-like, adventurous, something that required hope.

She loved his space. She only wanted to lie naked on his carpet while he observed her. The view outside was beautiful: fireworks flickering and dancing above the buildings, sparkling in the water. But it remained silent in the appartement, as it was well insulated (Label A if you really want to know), with soft music filling the space.

She took drugs. It was that reckless part of her personality, pushing limits or perhaps an attempt at avoiding intimacy. She liked him, and it scared her—especially as he was about to leave.

He made her laugh. She loved that they could argue for fifteen minutes about something as trivial as pairing socks. She loved how he danced without a care for what others thought.

She admired his intelligence, his unique mix of logic and creativity, his sharp analytical talent paired with an inner storm. He was a keen observer, not just intellectually but emotionally. Perhaps that was why he sometimes seemed unsettled. He carried a hunger for life that sometimes seemed to exhaust him. She imagined he was yearning for something difficult to attain: greatness—in his path and in love. She admired his pursuit of his dreams, but she also saw how it at times challenged his desire to settle down. She recognized herself in his struggle and thought of the agony in the never ending lust for life. Maybe they both needed, as Siddhartha tried to teach them, that what is searched is not necessarily the same as is to be found. When we let go of the searching, we might start finding. But it is so hard.

He had so much love to give. Women who saw and felt it—in the way he made love, the way he kissed—fell for that warmth. She was certain of it. It was his gift and his liability. He was aware of his effect on them, and she had the idea he has learned the hard way to be careful about it.

She liked his touch, the tenderness of it. When he said, “We won’t have sex tonight,” she wondered if he pitied her or judged her. She reminded herself that when she feared a man thought her "cheap" or "too much," it was often her own projection—her fears, her demons, her trauma speaking and reenacting itself. Patterns.

Later, as fireworks lit up at hour zero, as she felt him in her mouth she felt happy. Thrilled, even. She wanted to suck his cock for the entire night. But she appreciated that he held himself. He slowed her down. Paused. They sat down, and hugged. She hadn’t expected it. She had estimated him to be more impulsive, but he had restrained himself. It felt like a compliment.

The couch spun slowly on its axis as they curled into each other. She was naked; he was dressed. They were lovers in that moment. But the looming goodbye weighed on her. She knew it would leave her with a small heart ache. Yet she allowed herself to fall in love for a moment. The best feeling. It was a sweet way to end the year.

She liked his taste in music. She didn’t like how he had disappeared last winter. It was an act of anxiety, stubbornness, self-preservation, or perhaps indifference. The truth likely lay somewhere in between.

When she told him about the bad men in her life he was kind. He told her she shouldn’t have any of those. She tried to explain, but she felt misunderstood—or perhaps she found it confrontational.

When he caressed her naked body on his living room carpet, she felt aroused. She held herself back from climaxing for two whole days. It was hard. She wanted her next release to be with him in his space. She touched herself gently. She was wet, both the drugs, and his presence.

He moved his hands down, she curved her body for him. Exposing herself, inviting him. When he slapped her after reading her body’s signals, she felt the familiar sensation go through her. He understood her desires, her perversions. He could be her "killer" too, she learned. He would please her in that way, from time to time.

He was careful, even hesitant. He admitted he feared where it might lead him, afraid of the Killer within. Yet, she could sense he liked it too. The taste of the forbidden was intoxicating—once discovered, it was hard to let go. She wanted to explain, to tell him that everyone carries both Cain and Abel within, but she struggled to articulate herself. She believed that by compassionately exploring those darker parts of oneself—and doing so with another, attentively and lovingly—one could ease the burden of suppressing them elsewhere. Perhaps, she thought, if humans could openly acknowledge and embrace their death drives and passions, they might draw peace closer, both within and among each other. It is in repression, after all, that demons transform into monsters capable of true destruction.

It was late. The new year was here. She felt excited. She liked her life. She loved living. 

Then he told her she has to go. The rejection was slightly painful, though she had anticipated it. She recognized this feeling—the ache of a goodbye with someone whose return was uncertain. All things are finite. Again. He had warned her, and she had listened, but the sting remained.

He needed to move away, to find his place in the world. She understood that well. But she felt so comfortable with him and her instinct drew her to him.

She hugged him and closed the door behind her. On her way home, she listened to Phoebe. Writers and musicians were her truest lovers after midnight. Fireworks illuminated the city sky, but the peak of the night—and her high—had faded. The hour was strange, stirring an uncanny sensation within her. The sights and sounds evoked fragments of both war and celebration, blurring the boundaries between joy and terror.

Her thoughts turned to her Afghan patient, likely huddled in the corner of his room in East Town—trembling, terrified, psychotic, and paranoid. For him, New Year's Eve was the worst night of the year. She had spent years assuring him that the Taliban would never knock on his door here, that bombs would not fall in Europe. But as she walked through the echoes of celebratory chaos, the fragility of her own words struck her. Four years had passed since she made that promise, and now, she was less sure of it's truth.

2024 had been a year of fear and pain. It lingered in the cracks of the world around her, in the uncertain futures of too many people, and in the quiet tremor of her own doubts.

Once home she lay on the couch. Her thoughts wandering back to the elusive lover she was falling for. She noticed even as time passed he kept reminding her of Siddhartha. She was naked again. This time, she caressed herself, her fingers trailing softly over her skin as memories surfaced. She recalled how, instead of fucking, they had shared their New Year's resolutions. It had felt strangely intimate—more revealing, in a way, than if they had given in to their desires.

“This year I’m getting married,” he said, so confidently that she didn’t know how to interpret it.

“This year I’ll pick someone too,” she replied with a smile.

He said they might stay in touch. She doubted it but a part of her hoped they would. But she understood his stance. When ones home is demolished by the evil and ignorance of the masses one must pursue a new place to settle. They knew that very well in the shared history they carried. It was the right and wise step for him.

She stared into the space of her own home. 2024 had been painful indeed, but it had also brought clarity. She felt gratitude. She always managed to land on her feet. But she didn’t want to keep landing alone. She wanted to share a life, intimately, relationally. She wanted love and a shared community.

2024 ended with an open heart. Grief found its place in her psyche. Pain slowly crystallized into a part of her she could reflect upon, rather than being suffocated by.

She could move beyond it. She was ready to love again.

Yes, it was time for good things to come. 

[translationandbetrayals]

"Millenium Actress": My Farewell to Satoshi Kon

Ok, so I was gonna talk about Serial Experiments Lain and its relationship with the concept of “lost media” through analyzing its transmedia projects… But INSTEAD I’m gonna talk about something much more “simpler”, since I don’t have any time left and I’m doing this past the deathline hour.So, everybody knows Satoshi Kon, right? He was a great filmmaker, and I’ve seen his entire filmography recently. Well, I’ve finished it watching “Millenium Actress”, which by the way, it’s a beatiful movie. And why, you would ask, well, my dearest readers (if you take the time to read this of course), this movie is a JOURNEY through the magic of cinema, crossing Japan’s 20th century history and the personal life of its protagonist (the millenium actress, duh), while blending it with her work as an actress.And oh yes, Satoshi-kun always had a great interest in breaking the limits of reality and fantasy, we can see that in movies like “Paprika” or “Perfect Blue” (which the director himself said was like the twin sister of Millenium Actress, just darker); here we get into the mind of our protagonist through the lens of a cameraman and an interviewer, who will get more and more immersed in this weaving story until finally getting into the point where he himself was part of it (he was in love with the actress, just not corresponded).The reality of her life, and the fantasy of her acting career in the movies she made are intertwined by a single driving force: her wanting to meet an old love, an artist she met in times of war, who promised her they would meet again, planting the neverdying seed of adventure and a better tomorrow in her. She came from a very strict home, with her mother wanting for her only a life of marriage. Instead, she took the train, and then she sailed, searching for the artist. That’s how she gets into acting lately.Now, the magic of this film is inherently in its montage. Its frenetic rythm and its beatiful transitions are reflecting choices which can illuminate us into what was Satoshi’s mind: a dark maze, but an intriguing one, which led us inevitably into wonder.One of the last scenes in the movie has this sequence of the actress crossing all ages of Japan History (through the movies she acted) and her own personal experiences, running, always running, trying to get the spectre of the artist. It’s beatiful, and it may be one of my favorite sequences of Satoshi’s work. The music of Susumu Hirasawa (who made the music for the best adaptation of Berserk for TV, 97’s) is trepidant, and takes your heart out, creating the desire in you of wanting to know: WILL SHE EVER MEET THE GUY, OR ARE YOU GONNA MAKE ME SUFFER MORE, DAMN.Here’s the *S P O I L E R* part: she doesn’t. In one of the most heartbreaking scenes of his filmography, we get to meet the artist has died a long time ago. The detective who has appeared over and over in various forms, tells the truth to the interviewer. He knew the truth all along. Why was he then, listening to all this neverending story as it was the first time he has ever listened to it? Because that’s what life is about. You may know how it’s gonna end, but you want to get immersed into it, you have no choice. It drives you into being part of it, so you can decide if you wanna follow your dreams, so you can finally say goodbye, in a launching rocket to the vast sky, saying it was all for grasping the adventure of the search.It may not have been the last film of Satoshi Kon, but its last line made me think of him getting close to his death, and realizing how important was the art and medium he chose for creating stories, that could resonate with all of us. It was, I think, the search of his life.And for that I give him my applause.

Jorge Leiva

[heavenlydevine]

Instinct ⇥ Toji Fushiguro.

Fandom ⇥ Jujutsu Kaisen.

Pairing ⇥ Toji Fushiguro x Female!Reader.

Summary ⇥ It was a mistake. A no good, terrible mistake, because being fucked into submission by your best friend’s dad was totally normal, right?

Warnings ⇥ Explicit Content. Language. Porn Without Plot. Rough Sex. Age Gap, though reader is in her early twenties. Corruption Kink. Breeding Kink, if you squint. Minors DNI.

I don’t think I did this man justice, but please keep in mind that I just recently got introduced to the Jujutsu Kaizen universe. Reviews and reblogs appreciated. Might post more content should this be received well, cause I really don’t think I did Toji justice.

You were a modest young woman that prided herself at being a law abiding citizen. You did as you were told and broke little to no rules, and yet now you knew that you could throw that goodie two shoes act right out the window.

It was a innocent little crush, never once entertaining the thought that your imagination would later turn into an earth shattering reality, but now, well you could honestly say that it wasn’t as innocent as you had previously assumed.

Guilt lingered at the forefront of your mind as you desperately sought to silence the atrocious sounds wheezing past your lips, and yet the firm grip tightening around your throat was warning enough that it was the last thing the behemoth above you wanted.

“I thought you said that you were a good girl,” he grunted against your skin, teeth nipping at your earlobe as a particular thrust of his hips dragged out a mewl from you, “—yet one look has you wrapped around my dick like a wanton little whore.”

Shaking your head from side to side as a wave of embarrassment flooded through your quivering body, the man above you merely laughed mockingly as he tutted in amusement, “I wonder what my son would think should he know that his daddy is fucking his pretty little friend like the whore she is.”

This was a mistake.

A terrible, no good, glorious mistake and yet regret pulsed at the forefront of your mind. This was not what you had in mind when you had agreed to help Megumi out with his science project, assuring you that his dad wouldn’t be home until later tonight—fat load of bullshit that was.

Because there you were, legs spread wide and being fucked into submission like there was no tomorrow. You weren’t a virgin by any means, having lost your innocence at the age of sixteen when your douchebag of a boyfriend had given you the trump card, if you love me, you’ll sleep with me.

“Cat got your tongue, princess? Am I not fucking you hard enough?” He was taunting you, pushing your limits as his thumb circled your clit in slow movements, driving you towards the brink of insanity, for it was at that moment that pure instinct took over, and without thought, your walls clenched around his cock.

“Fuck,” this gorgeous beast of a man grunts out, hissing through his teeth as he stares down at you heartedly, “—you fucking asked for this, princess.”

He is not gentle, but you are distinctively aware that you don’t mind the roughness as he yanks you off mahogany desk, lips smashing against your own as he gropes at you, squeezing you tighter, teeth nipping and tongue invading your mouth like a man drunk on ecstasy. Your hands push against his firm chest, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch and as you think that he had come to his senses that this was indeed a mistake, Toji Fushiguro pulls back and squeezes your cheeks firmly with his right hand, glaring down at you with a fury that makes you regret your brazen act of bravery, “I am about to ruin whatever little fantasy you have little girl, I hope this pussy can take what I’m about to give her.”

You can’t breathe.

You can’t move.

Not when his large hands pull you against his chest, forcibly turning you around so that your back was flush against his chest and his firm erection digging into your backside. “Bite on this,” it’s your soaked panties he shoves into your mouth as he pushes against your back, guiding you down to settle comfortably against the wooden desk, books and pens scattered about, “—don’t want to wake my son, now do you?”

You shake your head in denial, embarrassment shimmering in your eyes as you briefly glance towards the opposite side of the room, knowing that Megumi could come barging down the darkened hallway at any given moment. “Remember you asked for this.”

You try to recall how you had ended up in this position as you feel him knead your buttocks with his firm and rough fingers, pain erupting through your body as a hard smacks lands on both cheeks, and then he bottoms out within you, hitting your cervix in one single thrust—and for a moment you see stars, silently hoping that he’ll allow you a moment to collect your thoughts and yet the moment he pulls away, inch by inch, you know you are about to be ruined by your best friend’s dad.

He stretches you out completely at this angle, balls deep in your quivering pussy, grunting like a crazed animal as he sets out a punishing pace, fingers digging painfully into the supple flesh of your hips. “Fucking take it,” he murmurs hotly, cock sliding in and out of you with such ferocity that you fear he might break you.

But he knows you can take it.

You can feel a tingling sensation prickle at the top of your head, pulsing through your veins as euphoria threatens to consume you whole. Your moans are muffled by biting down on your soaked panties, yet still you could feel the embarrassing sensation of drool dripping down your chin, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you feel like bursting open like a balloon.

He raises a eyebrow, your words muffled, “What’s that, baby girl? Am I not fucking you right?” He taunts you with every drawn out thrust, pulling out until the tip of his cock is the only thing that remains within your quivering walls, only push back in with a firm snap of his hips, grunting at the sensation of you welcoming him home. “No, that’s not it, is it? You want me to cum inside this pretty pussy? Fill you up with my load until you can feel and taste nothing but me? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Stars dance across your vision as your fingers now grip the edge of the table, modesty flying out the window as you push back to meet him thrust for thrust, the tickling sensation of his hands abandoning their position on your hips to now gripping your shoulders, fingers running through your hair before gripping and pulling you back, “Want me to fill you? I bet you dreamt of this, didn’t you?”

He knows he has ruined you.

He acts purely on instinct now, pummelling into your tight heat with precision and focus, animalistic grunts wheezing past his lips as he gnashes his teeth together. “Come on baby, cum for me.” Your body responds to the command and your orgasm hits you from nowhere, legs trembling and arms shaking, Toji holds you firmly against his chest as he continues his assault, drilling into you at a furious pace.

And then with a grunt, teeth biting down harshly into the tender skin of your neck, you feel him pulse and throb deep within you, the sheer sensation of being filled to the brim sending you over the edge as another orgasm rocks through your body. “Fuck!”

You don’t care that Megumi might hear you, too preoccupied by being manhandled like a little whore. “You have two seconds to get your pretty little ass in that shower,” and then he leaves you to crumble, reality crashing down and swallowing you whole as you tumble down the rabbit hole, desperately trying to make sense of what happened.

Because being fucked into submission by your best friend’s dad was totally normal, right?