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puddle-nerd · 6 months

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We Feast

Summary: As Ronal’s most dedicated student in the ways of healing, a soft spot had formed specifically for you, deeper than you might have guessed until your first heat hits you unexpectedly.

(Tonowari/Reader/Ronal)

Prompt 31 (A/B/O) for my final submission for LunasKinktober2023

Story Tags: No use of y/n, Female Reader, everyone is legal, A/B/O, M/F/F, Teacher/Student Relationship, Crushing on the Teacher, Overbearing Parents, Angst, Metkayina | Reef People Clan (Avatar), Na’vi Culture (Avatar – Cameron), Na’vi Language (Avatar – Cameron), First Heat, Maybe Dub-Con due to Heat Delerium, Threesome if you squint, Open Marriage-ish/Polyamory, Eating out, Face Sitting, Mention of inexperienced main female character, Voyeurism, Creampie Na’vi Translation: ‘Eve — girl (colloquial) Ma’ — my, mine, a way of showing possession of something Mawey — calm Muntxatan — husband Numeyu — student Oel ngati tse’a – “I see you” (physically) Olo’eyktan — Clan Leader Olo’zeykoyu — Clan Healer Paska’sngap — (NON-CANON) exact translation would be ‘honey sting’, a type of large bee that makes very sweet honeycomb Paskalin — honey (term of endearment) Sa’nu — mum/mom/mommy Sa’nok — mother (respectful) Tewng – loincloth Tìyawn — love Tsaheylu — a connection between two Pandoran beings (i.e. a Na’vi and a direhorse/ikran/ilu or between two Na’vi) with the tendrils of their neural queues enabling a mental communication between them and the sharing of information, including memories, emotions, and sensory input Tsahìk – a spiritual leader of a Na’vi clan, and the most important member next to the clan leader. The job of the Tsahìk is to interpret the will of Eywa, guide the clan spiritually, and perform important ceremonies Zeykoyu — healer Male OC: Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan (a male Na’vi) and Ìstaw (your preferred male ilu) Author’s Note: Set around a year and a half before the events of Avatar: The Way of Water, before Ronal got pregnant and before the Recombinants arrived. This turned out a quite bit longer than I originally anticipated because I just couldn’t stop writing so if you’d prefer to skip straight to the smut, skip down to the break in text. And hey, so just in case you didn’t read the tags or the warning labels, this is a polyamorous relationship so this one will have Ronal and Reader going to town on each other in this chapter. If you don’t like descriptive scenes depicting woman on woman sexual action, then please don’t read this.

“Good, yes, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal praised you with a soft brush of her fingers along your bare shoulder as you ground the herbs into a fine powder for future use as an anti-inflammatory paste when introduced to a few drops of fresh water. It needed to be as fine as silk-sand to the touch or else it would not do its job as needed and would be, in turn, useless. And you refused to have anything of yours be considered useless or not even good enough. Being the youngest of three daughters of your family, your older sisters set the precedence by being a fantastic warrior and a fantastic fisherman/cook so you had to be just as good as them, if not better or else your parents would pay you less attention or compare you to your sisters. So, you had to be the best zeykoyu as your talents lay with healing. And who better to learn from than the current Tsahìk?

You bowed your head with a slight smile. “Thank you, Ma’tsahìk,” you acknowledged the compliment with a light blush and grabbed the last of the herb to add to her mortar.

“Your dedication could lead you down the path to Olo’zeykoyu… one day.” You froze at those words hanging so tantalizingly in the air between the two of you and slowly, you glanced upwards slowly while the rest of your body remained paused in time, hunched over, hands gripping the pestle above the bowl of half ground herbs. Ronal raised a brow, a challenging smirk curling upon the corner of her turquoise lips. “Do you doubt your Tsahìk, Ma’numeyu?”

Immediately, you shook your head, breathing out, “No, never, Ma’tsahìk. I…” You licked your lips and whispered, “I just… that would be so… wonderful.”

And if you became the clan healer… that would mean you would get to have even more time side-by-side with the beautiful female you looked up to and adored so earnestly. Oh, yes, you wanted it – all of it, the position, the respect, the time with your Tsahìk.

Blue eyes softened as they took you in, seeing more than you perhaps wanted her to see of you, seeing the need for acknowledgement, the need to feel appreciated for your talents, the need to not be compared to someone else and found lacking. She shifted closer on her knees and lifted a hand and cupped your jaw so tenderly, the look in her eyes so warm and welcoming, so unlike your parents’ or your sisters’. “You will have earned it, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal whispered softly, earnestly, shuffling even closer to you. “Your dedication… and your talent… and your work ethic… is beyond par to any of my other students. One day… paskalin. Until then, finish grinding.” She shot you a smile, her hand cupping your cheek just a little bit firmer before it dropped.

The sound of the mauri pod front flap lifting had both female Na’vi’s looking up to see the fearsome Olo’eyktan stepping into the woven hut. His eyes immediately sought out his wife and a smile spread upon his lips.

“Hello, tìyawn,” he greeted the older woman, crossing the expanse between them and pressing his tattooed forehead to hers, their noses brushing tenderly.

You immediately dropped your gaze, face flushing as you bore witness to such a tender and intimate moment between the mated pair. Because your gaze was dropped, you missed the way the two of them glanced at you, a silent smile shared between them as they then met the other’s gaze, a conversation happening between them with only a few facial twitches and smiles.

The massive male cautiously turned and greeted you warmly. “Good afternoon, ‘eve.”

You looked up, smiling warmly and bowing your head respectfully towards your clan leader. “Good afternoon, Olo’eyktan,” you replied back.

“Just Tonowari is fine, paskalin,” he reminded you with a warm smile. It was contagious and you returned it with one of your own, blushing while bowing your head in respect once more for this man, not able to hide the shiver that ran down your spine at the nickname he had used for you. He was always just as kind and as warm as his wife was to you (in private; she couldn’t play favorites in public) and the two of them together like this… these two beautiful, wonderful people who were so genial and kind to you, it made your heart beat just a little bit faster with longing.

You… wanted…

“Unfortunately, your sa’nok is looking for you,” Tonowari’s voice made you focus back on the present and you flushed once again, this time in embarrassment at having drifted off on a mental tide. “She… seemed insistent.” There was a curiosity in his tone but all you could feel was dread at those words.

Because that was not good news.

Your mother never sought you ought on purpose.

Glancing at Ronal, she nodded, releasing you from your duties. “My apologies, Ma’tsahìk,” you murmured, setting aside your mortar and pestle and pushing yourself to your feet. “I will make it up to you tomorrow.” She laughed in enjoyment of your continued commitment to prove yourself and waved you away. You left the mauri pod with one, last respectful bow of your head to both of them before departing and stepping out into the bright sun. Shielding your eyes, you blinked a few times as your eyes adjusted to the light and turned towards the pod where your family lived, smiling at those you considered acquaintances and friends. Tsireya, Ronal and Tonowari’s eleven-year-old daughter, approached you with a bounce in her step and you grinned at her.

“Done for the day? Already?” she asked, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling you into dancing with her, much to a passing Na’vi’s amusement. “Sa’nu must be feeling kindly today.”

You laughed, spinning the pre-teen under your arm. “Your sa’nok had no choice, unfortunately,” you tell her. “My own requested the pleasure of my company.” The little girl’s smile faded somewhat, having an idea what that meant because she was getting to the age where she had started to observe the behaviors of those around her and had seen the way your own parents diminished you in comparison to your older sisters. “I’ll be fine,” you assured her, pretty sure you were lying to Tsireya’s face, pushing a curl of her hair back from her eyes like you wished your older sisters would do for you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘eve.” You moved past her and kept on walking, straightening your spine, smile fading away and your face becoming a blank mask as you prepared for whatever your parents had prepared for you, interrupting your time of learning with Ronal, which you coveted greatly. You took your fear for whatever was about to happen and you shoved it down into the pit of your stomach, trying to ignore the feel of it settling like a stone in your belly. You were strong, you were dedicated, you were talented, and maybe one day you could become Olo’zeykoyu, just as Ronal had hinted. She believed in you. She thought highly of you. Whatever was about to happen… you’d make her proud. Her and her mate both.

Stepping into your family mauri pod, you found your mother kneeling at the cook table, serving a drink to your father and another male Na’vi whose scarred back was facing you. You paused, instantly recognizing Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan from his stylish topknot bun, the set of his broad shoulders, the marred webbing of skin on the left side of his ribs, and his shortened tail.

“You’re home ma’ite. Wonderful,” your mother greeted with uncharacteristic warmness and a smile that read false, false, false! “You have a visitor. Come say hello.”

There it was.

The commanding edge to your mother’s tone that promised emotional anguish if you disobeyed.

Ìtxän turned and smiled at you, giving you the formal greeting, hand sweeping from his forehead. “ Oel ngati tse’a,” his voice was warm.

Kind.

The way he smiled at you held hope and promise…

And you felt nothing for him.

You dutifully greeted him formally back, forcing a small smile upon your lips though you really didn’t feel like smiling. You crossed the mauri pod on legs that felt like they had something heavy weighing them down to sit across the round table from your mother, between your father and your visitor and that’s when you saw it.

The traditional Metkayinan courting gift.

You were old enough to start thinking about courting, having turned eighteen a couple of moon cycles prior to this moment and finished with most of your rites. You just had never really thought about courting, before.

Ìtxän had woven together thick fronds that he had gathered himself into a basket large enough to fill with food to feed at least three or four Na’vi. Once finished, he had had to catch, kill, gather, and prepare a meal for his intended mate, their parents and himself as a means of proving he would make an excellent provider. Once everything was ready, he had had to present it to his intended’s parents for inspection and if they approved, it would be presented to you for approval. The more elaborate the meal, the more serious the proposal to court. Usually. The fact that Ìtxän was trying to present one to you… left you feeling unbalanced. You didn’t have anything against him but you didn’t really know him. You’d barely spoken to him other than greeting him in passing or when he needed wounds looked after. Yes, you had been right by Ronal’s side when he had had a chunk taken out of him and some of his tail removed by an akula, assisting in keeping him alive and making sure he healed properly a year or so before. But other than that, neither of you had ever sought the other out. You hadn’t even realized he was interested in you.

Your father began to unpack the basket.

It wasn’t lost on you that the main dish was akula steaks and your father chuckled at that. It was prepared very elaborately, marinated with a thick dark sauce and many spices, garnished with small leafy greens. There was also a large bowl of fruit, a bowl of stalk-like vegetables more commonly known as Fire Tails due to their spicy flavor all by themselves and also happened to be a favorite of yours. To finish it off, there were small bread rolls and, last but not least, a jar of honey the size of your fist.

You and your parents both froze, seeing that innocent little jar of amber. Not because it meant something bad. Oh, no. It meant Ìtxän was pushing forward the ultimate symbol of intending to make you his mate one day.

Honey from a Paska’sngap hive was difficult to come by as the bees — which were half the size of an adult Na’vi’s skull — were harmless by themselves and usually didn’t attack unless it felt threatened. An individual bee could sting up to three times before it died and each sting would release a bit of toxin which would take about a day or two to recover from after their stingers were removed from your skin. And typically, a Na’vi could survive a handful of stings but multiple stings from a dozen or more Paska’sngap’s could result in enough toxin in their bloodstream to act as a paralytic so that bigger creatures could be able to eat the helpless Na’vi. Even more stings than that – say, if the whole hive stung you – that much toxin could stop your heart. Foraging for honeycombs was usually a test of endurance, skill and speed as the bees could swarm in defense of their home and easily overpower any being. The fact that Ìtxän had accumulated so much of the sweetest honeycombs anyone in the clan had ever tasted…

You looked up at Ìtxän who was smiling at you so brightly and hopefully… and still felt nothing.

Your parents laid out the dishes and your mother looked up at you expectantly when you didn’t move. “Well, ma’ite?” She prompted and you swore you could hear her teeth grinding. You looked from the delicious food spread out in front of you and you had to admit, it looked wondrous with all of the hard work he put into it but you couldn’t lie. Not about this. Sitting back on your knees, you lowered your head into a respectful bow towards Ìtxän, eyes lowered, ears twitched back because you knew your parents were about to be furious with you. “I formally apologize Ìtxän Te Atxzìtx Kxawun’iyan but I cannot and do not accept.” Your mother, predictably, hissed loudly as you scrambled to your feet and away from the table, your father looking severely disappointed with you, scowling harshly. “Why not?” she snarled. “I don’t know him!” You shouted right back, tail lashing. You glanced at Ìtxän, voice lowering as you repeated softly, “I don’t know you. I didn’t even know you were interested in me. And then… this…” You waved your hand at the meal on the table and stared at him. You shook your head. “I can’t… I…” You turned away and darted out of your family mauri pod, ignoring your mother’s calls, pumping your legs and running down the bouncy walkway as fast as you could, dodging people just barely enough to not crash into them until you could dive out into the water and swim. An ilu you preferred and called Ìstaw approached you and you quickly grabbed hold, making tsaheylu and bonding with him so you could get away even faster. Together, you and the ilu swam to what you liked to consider your secret cave, breaking the surface of the water and looking around the grotto. “Thank you, Ìstaw,” you smiled gratefully, breaking the bond and hauling yourself up onto the stone lip. Turning back to see him still watching you, you reached and rubbed his head gently with a smile, telling him, “I’ll swim back on my own when I’m ready.” The ilu bowed its head and returned the way it came, disappearing from view. With a sigh, you took in your secret cave and felt yourself relax, being away from your parents and their expectations. The bioluminescent flora growing over the roof of the cavern was beautiful and pink, glowing bright, along with the hole showing you a small circle of the sky and giving you ample light to see. With it being high-tide, the water lapped at the stone lip gently, spilling a little bit of water up and over with every slow wave and hiding the lowered entrance to the grotto. With the lapping water in mind, over the years, you had built yourself a sleeping pad up and off of the ground, padding it with layers of moss and blankets you had woven together to make it quite comfortable. You had trinkets, like a collection of shells, a couple of handmade instruments, and spare ingredients and tools you needed for your craft in healing. You also had some freshwater casks and fishing gear so you could feed yourself if you wanted to stay for a night or two. The perfect little getaway when your family’s overbearing attitudes and expectations got too much. Slumping down onto the sleeping pad which was big enough for you to stretch out and still have some room, you felt your emotions rise up and overwhelm you. How dare your parents spring this courting request upon you?! How dare Ìtxän?! And why had they bothered with him? Why had they been so eager? Your sisters were single and they were “better” in your parents’ eyes so shouldn’t they have wanted someone to come courting them first? Unless they figured if you left the mauri pod, your sisters would have better chances. Or they just wanted you out of the way. And this thought made you cry. Did they really hate you so much? Your emotions poured out of you and you cried and cried until you exhausted yourself, falling asleep upon your sleeping mat, curling in on yourself, tail pulled tightly into the backs of your thighs and you didn’t dream. Thankfully, you didn’t dream. 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Waking slowly with warmth trickling through your limbs, you felt groggy and disoriented and unable to shake the fuzzy plant fibers from your mind. You were cognizant enough to realize you felt feverish and achy. Sitting up slowly, a wave of dizziness took hold of you and you flopped back down. Your belly, or maybe right below that, was clenching against the emptiness you felt inside of yourself.

Ohhh…

Oh, you felt… need… carnal need.

You had started your first heat?

“Oh no,” you moaned in self-pity.

From the conversations you had overheard your mother have with your sisters, you weren’t supposed to start having your heat cycles until you began to indulge in sexual pleasure with someone – and you hadn’t. You were dedicated to learning how to be the best zeykoyu you could be… and spoil yourself with the delectation of Ronal’s company. If you took care of yourself on occasion in the dead of the night or here in your secret cave, you did it by yourself with no one for company but your thoughts and imagination. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…”

You shook your head, trying to ignore the exacerbating warmth unfurling beneath your belly, that bubbling heat sending out the signal throughout your limbs that you needed a partner to take care of you in the most lascivious of ways possible. A nonexistent partner because you weren’t interested in anyone…

Anyone obtainable, that is.

While Na’vi were inherently sexual beings and it wasn’t entirely unheard of that some mated couples took on a third, you were nothing but her student and while Tonowari – her mate, her partner, the love of her life, the father of her children, you reminded yourself — was very handsome, and kind and wonderful, there was something about Ronal that just called to you even more. Appealed to you more. She was, in a way, even fiercer than her husband, almost frighteningly so. But she was also graceful and beautiful and strong and wise and…

Oh… Eywa, you had it so bad for her.

Not saying there was anything wrong with all of those strong muscles and that filthy smirk you’d seen him shoot Ronal once or twice before they suddenly disappeared for an hour or so, coming back to smell strongly of musk.

Oh… and just the thought of him being able to pick you up easily and manhandle you however he saw fit?

And then your mind’s eye drifted down to his tewng, wondering exactly what he had been endowed with. Probably something very enticing if Ronal shirked her duties for a bit every so often for a moment of pleasure with her mate.

You began to tremble as a wave of lust washed over you like a gentle wave.

Trying to focus on what you had been taught by Ronal and what you had heard about these symptoms from other sexually active women in the clan, you took stock of the heat that was prickling beneath your skin, an itch you couldn’t seem to scratch as you writhed upon your sleeping mat. A near dizzying surge of warmth pulsed from your core and you finally registered the wetness seeping from that place between your legs, preparing you to be taken and pleasured and fucked. You needed your clothing off and struggled with shaking fingers to untie your necklace and your Tewng, succeeded after a few stuttered curses and tears leaking from your blue eyes.

“Ohhh,” you whined, throwing your clothing away and curling up tighter into a ball as your body wracked with desperate need. “This can’t be happening.”

Behind the curve of your naked back while you trembled, with the tide going out, you didn’t notice Ronal appear with the ilu you named Ìstaw at the visible mouth of the grotto, which allowed air into the cave twice a day. You didn’t see her lift her tattooed face and scent the air and understanding wash over her as her pupils dilated. You didn’t hear her thank the ilu, nor when she disconnected her queue, sending him away to find her mate and slowly approaching you through the waves. You did hear the water “sploosh” off of her body as she hauled herself up onto the stone lip and came to sit at your side, the sea water dripping off her and onto your overheated skin not doing much to cool the fire burning within you.

“Oh, Ma’numeyu,” Ronal cooed gently, gently looking over you and brushing away the curls from your turquoise face. “When did this start?”

Tears welled up in your blue eyes and you whimpered, “It shouldn’t have started at all, Ma’tsahìk. I haven’t… I never — not with someone!” A harsher shiver wracked through your body and you trembled visibly like you were wracked with sickness, your muscles tightening and releasing spasmodically. “It hurts… Ronal. Is it supposed to hurt?”

You’ve never used her given name before but the clawing need inside of you, the heat burning your body from the inside out, you absently hoped she could forgive you when all was said and done. The tattooed woman gently forced you onto your back, her hands resting upon your sweat damp brow and the naked curve of your mons, just above where you ached the most. You couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping your throat and screwed your eyes up tightly. You didn’t want to see any pity for your predicament, any disappointment, if she… for whatever reason… maybe thought you were lying.

“Oh, paskalin,” the warmth in her tone made you look hesitantly up at her, “this is a gift from Ewya to put us all on the path together that she wants from us. Ma’muntxatan and I were going to speak with you later today… but Eywa pushed us to this, by giving you this gift and having us show you in a different way that we can take care of you.”

Us?

Together?

She and her husband…

She couldn’t mean… could she?

“May I touch you paskalin?” She asked gently. “Touch will ease the fire within you.”

Oh, Eywa, yes. Please.

Ronal laughed. Oh, had you said that out loud? You flushed, face getting a touch hotter, if that was possible. Then you were distracted by a pretty mouth caressing your own chastely and delicate hands with calloused fingertips gently sliding over your heated flesh. A wanton moan bounced off the grotto walls. “Yes, paskalin, let it out. Tell me your needs and I will fix it.”

“Please,” you begged. “Kiss me some more. Touch me some more. Anything. Everything. Please… just let it be you, Ma’tsahìk.”

The older woman hummed and slid onto the sleeping mat you had created, kneeling between your thighs and reaching up to remove her necklace. Her breasts were large for a Na’vi and her hardened nipples were a darker shade than her beautiful turquoise skin. And it was a sight to behold. You whined and reached for her eagerly, arms trembling. With a predatory look, she swooped in and kissed you hungrily, one arm holding herself up, the other sneakily cupping one of your own breasts, her thumb playing with your nipple, swallowing your moan of approval. She tasted sweet, of fruit and honey, and you could easily see yourself get addicted to her flavor.

Pulling back to breathe, Ronal moved down to your neck, kissing, sucking, nibbling your flesh as she played with you breast, humming in approval as you slid a hand down her back, fingers digging into the swell of her backside and shifting your hips to find you grinding against her knee. You released a whimper.

“Mawey, paskalin,” she teased, raking her fangs against a forming bruise upon your throat. “Trust me to take care of you.”

Her mouth found your neglected breast.

You couldn’t help but let out a whine as the tattooed woman sucked on your sensitive nipple, the pleasure causing your core to clench harder around nothing. Oh, how you needed it. Needed her. But she promised she would take care of you. As if reading your mind, her lips finally descended from your breast down your belly, licking and sucking at your hips, her fingers holding you down to prevent you squirming. Your eagerness for her attentions caused her to hum in glee. Finally, she came to the juncture of your legs. “Fuck,” Ronal breathed, surprising you with her foul language as her eyelids fluttered shut as her nostrils flares. “Oh, paskalin. You are so slick for me. Smell so sweet.”

You can’t help but nod almost frantically, hips faux fighting her strong grip, wanting to rock up against her face. “For you, yes, yes, yes,” you admit with a whining chant. “It’s always been you. Admire you. Adore you. Want you!” She smirked at that.

“Then you shall have me,” the older woman vowed. She finally pressed her face forward.

A tongue surprisingly broad swept up the lips of your vulva before it poked between them and found your clit, lightly stroking and making you nearly scream out a curse, her hands struggling to hold your hips as you arched into the touch that caused lightning to zap through you.

It didn’t register when a second set of hands, much larger than the ones before, suddenly held your hips down much firmer. You were too swept up in the feel of that tongue dipping and dancing between your folds, alternating between licks and gently prodding against your nub. And when two delicate fingers pressed into you, you choked on your moans and gasps, absently clasping onto the thick forearms to help ground yourself just a little. Ronal continued to feast upon you, withdrawing her fingers to slide her tongue into your depths. Where her fingers failed, her tongue found a spot that made you mewl and moan worse than before and that coil inside you wound tight.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please,” you sobbed, screaming out as a gentle pinch to your clit and her tongue pressing on that spongy spot inside you had your first orgasm of the day crash through you like a furious Akula. “RONAL!”

The older woman lapped at you like a hungry kitten, easing you through your afterglow with a smirk adorning her face that you only saw after you opened your eyes.

Tonowari stared down at you with a heated smirk as he left over his wife’s back to hold you down to your sleeping mat. “My turn,” he purred. Ronal slid over one of your thighs and laid down with her back to the cavern wall as her mate scooped you up easily and took your place on the bedding, lying back as you had been doing and dexterously adjusting you into a kneeling position above his chin. “Now sit, paskalin. It’s my turn to feast.”

Glancing at Ronal, she just smirked at you. “You are in for a treat,” she promised with a knowing smirk.

With one of his large, warm hands wrapped around one of our thighs, Tonowari cupped your backside with the other to support your weight and pulled you down onto his hungry mouth. Immediately, his tongue darted out to lick a stripe from your sensitive entrance to your clit, causing a high-pitched squeal to rip itself from your throat which nearly smothered his low moan.

Ronal nearly cackled in glee, questioning her mate, “She is divine, is she not, Muntxatan? She is even sweeter when she cums.” A hum of agreement was the only response before he truly began to feast upon your flesh.

Tonowari ate at your pussy like a man starved, voracious in his appetite, nose massaging at your clit while his tongue worked tirelessly inside of you, his arms preventing you from rocking your hips more than just lightly. You couldn’t help the movement as his experience coiled you tightly quickly, the cries and moans endlessly pouring from you as he quickly dragged you closer to your second orgasm. His tongue was even longer than his wife’s, thicker too and it wasn’t long before he coaxed you through a second orgasm, his name a stuttering scream. “T’no’ri!” It was a garbled mess but the intensity of two orgasms in less than an hour had you slurring and incoherent once more, shaking like a leaf in a storm, muscles twitching and spasming until it plateaued into bliss that left you feeling like boneless jelly.

Luckily, his wife was there to help ease you off of her husband’s face and manipulated your body to straddle his thighs.

“Oh,” you whined, seeing that at some point between you mounting his mouth and now, his tewng had disappeared and he was even more endowed than you had briefly allowed yourself to imagine. You should have realized, though, as the male was massive all-over, he would have a thick, long cock as well, slightly darker turquoise than his skin, almost rivaling Ronal’s nipples in shade and the stripes were raised and bumpy with little ridges and nodules.

Ronal smirked up at you and turned, kissing her husband’s messy face with her own.

“Say you want this paskalin,” Tonowari rumbled out, voice a deep purr that sent shovers down your spine.

You nodded with a whine, “Yes, please. Eywa, oh please.”

He guided you down slowly onto his shaft, the slick from your previous orgasms aiding his insertion, the achiness of your heat finally subsiding despite the pleasure he and Ronal had coaxed out of you.

You whined, feeling yourself stretch around his girth as you sank him in deeper and deeper inside of your body. Beside you, Ronal had made tsaheylu with her mat so she could share in on the pleasure. And then Tonowari began to move, guiding your hips over his fat cock and beginning to fuck up into your greedy cunt, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Shifting his legs into a bent position, it shifted the angle inside of you, allowing him even deeper penetration. His hands lifted you up and then he thrust up into you as you slid back down upon his cock, the head of his shaft bullying close to your cervix and causing stars to burst behind your eyelids.

“Oh, ‘Wari, yes, please,” you begged, grinding down on him, chasing your pleasure as it built higher and higher up inside of you. His thrusts became harder, sloppier, causing your whole body to shake as that coil in your belly tightened once more. “Oh, Eywa, don’t stop,” you sobbed, reaching out to ground yourself and intertwined your fingers with Ronal’s. “Please don’t stop! Knot me! Please!”

“Do it, muntxatan,” Ronal encouraged, her hand working steadily at her own center as she watched hungrily.

“Mine!” Tonowari snarled, gripping your hips tightly and slamming you down onto his cock. You came with a scream, your gummy walls camping down upon your Olo’eyktan’s length like a vice. His knot had begun to swell and he forced you down onto him one final time with a roar, locking you in place as he came, shooting ropes upon ropes of seed deep into your depths while your greedy depths milked his dry and filled your womb with potent seed.

The pleasure was overwhelming.

“I think we wore her out,” Tonowari chuckled as you lay there, half conscious a moment or two or five later.

You were only partially aware of when his wife smacked his arm. “It’s her first heat, brought on by the will of Eywa,” she reminded him, kissing your shoulder. “You will be kind to our ‘eve. She was untouched before me.” He must have rumbled something in response because the last thing you heard before drifting off for a short nap was, “Give her a moment then we may feast upon her honey again.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 31 October 2023 Word Count: 5,357

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng @teyamsatan @lovefrommeelise

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar #atwow #avatar smut #na'vi reader #ronal avatar #tonowari #ronal x you #ronal x reader #ronal smut #tonowari x you #tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics

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strrwbrrryjam · 1 month

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its funny that i write a post about respecting the female characters of rdr2 then i get recommended a post talking about getting a 'bad feeling' about mary taking advantage of arthur, the exact thing i was talking about

dude she asks you because it's a VIDEOGAME and you're the PROTAGONIST and she's an important character of the PROTAGONISTS PAST that gives him DEPTH - who else is she going to ask, uncle? she's a part of ARTHURS past

and then you're talking about her having some moral high ground when she does? i love arthur so much, but even i can't deny that between the two of them he has no moral high ground, he's an outlaw, a murderer who regularly steals from and beats and kills innocent people, while mary is a society woman

she isn't taking advantage of arthur at all, she comes to arthur for a variety of reasons, one of them being she's a widowed woman with a gambling drunk of a father, a dead mother, a dead husband and her younger brother leaving to join a cult, living in 1899 where women had limited rights and opportunities, especially in matters of finance and property ownership, her options for independence and support were severely contained and another because arthur is actually capable enough to save her brother from a dangerous cult that is planning to kill themselves, to wrangle up her drunk and likely abusive father, to rescue her mothers broach from a moving carriage.

and again, it bears repeating, that this is a videogame and her missions are OPTIONAL

of course, she's going to get mad when you tell her no because you are not only letting her dead mother's broach be sold but also signing her brother's DEATH WARRANT

she is incredibly grateful each time, thanking him profusely for saving her younger brother, she clearly still misses him, still loves him and still very much longs for a relationship with him despite their troubled past and arthur's outlaw status. her saying arthur will never change is more of a way to remind herself that their relationship would not work out, because arthur is still incredibly loyal to the gang that he prioritised over her during their relationship. even when mary asks, no, practically begs for arthur to run away with her from the law, from the gang, from everything, and arthur so clearly wants to, he still prioritised money and the gang over her, when mary doesn't need money, all she wants is arthur.

in the second mission, mary says "if i was fair to you, and a good person, i would have sold you out a long time ago," this is not only acknowledging her own flaws in this relationship, that she hasn't always treated arthur fairly, she's still incredibly loyal to him, as arthur is a wanted man, with a large bounty on his head, she could have him hanged if she truly was unfair to him, but she doesn't. the love she still has for him is still so strong. and arthur even admits to her being right about this.

despite the fact that mary still loves arthur and that the connection they share is still so strong, mary decides to choose herself and gives arthur the engagement ring she had kept in good condition for so long. she's constantly faced with the reality that arthur will never choose her over a life where death is around every corner. she learns that waiting for arthur is futile and damaging to her emotional health, so in the end, she chooses herself. she chooses to stop waiting and sends back the engagement ring (that she's kept for years, in good condition, that she could have sold because it's clear her family is struggling) and sends it back to arthur, a symbol of a relationship that will never find fulfilment. she prioritizes herself, even though it means letting go of the man she loves so dearly.

even though it's incredibly heartbreaking to her, given that she mentions when she's with arthur, the world feels right, she chooses self-respect and empowerment instead. despite the love she still holds for arthur, she decides to value herself and makes a choice that honours her own well-being. highlighting the strength and resilience she has gained throughout the story.

mary is an important character that adds to the depth and richness of the story and to arthur's character. her complexity mirrors arthurs, where she grapples with her own struggles and desires. she is not as one-dimensional as you portray her. dismissing her and portraying her in such a negative light does nothing but show how misogynistic you truly are.

also, the members of the gang don't like her for a variety of reasons, susan suffers from a bad case of internalised misogyny and believes that mary has ideas above her station, dutch sees mary as a threat to arthurs loyalty, only wanting arthur to be loyal to him, john, marybeths and tilly's perception of mary is heavily influenced by the emotional turmoil arthur suffers after interacting with her, because he still deeply loves her and yet the two of them cannot be together due to his loyalty to the gang. it's important to remember that out of all the gang members, abigail thinks fondly of her.

#its frustrating how people will give characters like micah the benefit of the doubt while he is obviously taking advantage of the gang #and sells them out to the law while mary has every reason to sell them out but doesn't because unlike micah #she's loyal and cares so deeply for arthur that she keeps him safe despite her better judgement #yet mary's the bitch #like honey your misogyny is showing and its making you look stupid and ugly #this started off as a response to someones shittake then it ended up into being a full analysis #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 mary gillis #mary gillis #rdr2 arthur morgan #arthur morgan #rdr2 van der linde gang #van der linde gang #strawberry speaks

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

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One of the issues with disney movies lately is some of the disney female protagonists is the adorkable personality. Which worked with Rapunzel and Anna but as time passed on, it seem to be the norm which the problem came once Wish revealed. Although despite that issues, all but Asha have reasons the way they are.

Rapunzel and Anna have been isolated from everyone with Rapunzel in the tower with only a chameleon as her friend and it didn't help that Mother Gothel is abusive to her while Anna stays in the castle with her sister being distant to her. I am not sure she is close with any of the servants since they are servants. Of course, they are socially awkward but they improve with Rapunzel having to experience social interaction in her TV series while Anna no longer has this in the sequel.

Moana is mostly serious and adventurous, which overshadows her quirkiness as only shown during her time in the ocean compared to the island as she fulfilled her duty as future chief. She has some laughable moments, but it doesn't stop her to continue her goal to saved the world and she is usually the serious of the two which the other is Maui.

Mirabel's quirkiness is the way she is because of how she isolated by her family and her village didn't pay much attention to her due to her being giftless which is why she tries her best to fit in. Her main personality is being empathetic as she helps her family with Antonio being brave enough with her favorite cousin by her side, Luisa talking about pressure that Mirabel listened, and Mirabel helping Isabel to let go of perfectionist. She can also be seen sassy like how she talks about Isabel.

Whereas Asha has no reason for the need to be quirky and awkward, she seems to be accepted by her friends, family, and the kingdom before the events of the story. She could have been an introverted, graceful woman who admired the king that she wanted to fulfilled his footsteps before realizing the truth.

Raya, Judy, Elsa, and Merida are the four disney female protagonist (not counting Pixar, I only included Merida since she is a princess) to not have that personality which is why are likable. The only issues they have is the movie itself especially Raya's movie theme being the trust message that is dangerous to followed, Zootopia's twist villain, the way Elsa is handle in the movies, and the bear curse parts.

Disney TV shows also have this issues with female protagonists, but not gonna say much since I am not sure if you know or not.

I haven’t seen like 3 of the movies listed here (Moana, Raya and the Last Dragon, and Brave) 😂 but I’ll trust that you know what you’re talking about, since I’ve seen Asha being compared to previous “adorkable” female leads like Rapunzel, Anna, Moana, and Mirabel in other Wish reviews.

The other 4 can have their quirkiness justified by being extremely sheltered and/or an outlier in their respective communities. However, this is not true of Asha, who is not only well known but also loved in Rosas—by her family, her friends, and heck, even the QUEEN.

It definitely feels like Disney got too comfortable with its formula, and in trying to please both modern audiences and older fans, they ended up pleasing no one. They’re so focused on making sequels and live action remakes now (which I guess is… easier??) 😅 I don’t know why Disney doesn’t make characters that are unique yet strong in their own ways. They’re capable of innovative characters (even if the execution of the overall stories aren’t great), as we see in Frozen and Zootopia (movies I have seen).

I did hear there was a lot of executive meddling in Wish’s production, so I wonder if this is why Asha had an unexplained quirkiness to her rather than a character that makes more sense for what she is and where she comes from. With her dad being a philosopher, I could see Asha working better as a quiet and introspective type who learns to be brave and to speak up for her own dreams and the dreams of those she loves rather than being a passive stander-by. This would actually give her a stronger character arc and growth rather than remaining static as she does in the actual movie we got 😔

#disney #disney wish #Asha #Frozen #Princess Anna #Moana #Merida #Brave #Zootopia #Judy Hopps #Rapunzel #Tangled #Raya #Raya and the Last Dragon #Mirabel Madrigal #Encanto #Elsa #notes from the writing raven

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restlessmaknae · 4 months

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freefall [beomgyu]

Every single time you and Beomgyu met, you bickered about something, and it annoyed you to no end, yet... you kind of enjoyed the thrill of it.

➳ Characters: Beomgyu x female!reader/you

➳ Genre: slice of life, fluff, mystery, kind of enemies to lovers, fantasy, angst

➳ Words: 4.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of low self-esteem, toxic workplace, reader having periods, character death

➳ A/N: This story is dedicated to @lily-blue. Merry Christmas! ❤️

➳ TXT masterlist

➳ TXT taglist: @dat-town, @s00buwu, @soobin-chois, @laaylaazyy, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @hyunjinswife, @stories-inbetween-the-stars, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @koishua, @squiishymeow, @forevrglow

You were falling, gravity pulling you under. Your stomach sank whilst your heart picked up its pace, and you were ready for the inevitable crush. Unconsciously, you closed your eyes as if it could make it hurt less…

Three, two, one…

Then, the crash didn’t come, and your eyes flew open, alert and surprised. You blinked up at the stranger staring down at you - caramel brown locks long enough to caress the back of his neck, a few stray ones falling into his small, firefly-like eyes, lips carved like a piece of art and curving into a knowing smile. His hands were a safety net holding you up while his whole body was tense, focused on keeping you from falling down. There was determination and mischief in his eyes, something that you had definitely not expected from a complete stranger who had managed to catch you.

“Gosh, life really can’t be boring with you,” he mumbled barely audibly, but you heard him, and if his presence wasn’t surprising enough, his words were even more.

“Who… do you know me? Have we met before?” You blurted out, confused, but instead of an answer, he straightened up, pulling you with him and pulling you up, so you could stand on your feet again.

You felt lightheaded after the sudden change in balance, and you couldn’t tell whether his closeness added to the dizziness or not, but it was not helping that his gaze was that burning. As if he knew you. As if he didn’t need to take his time taking you in. As if his words were true.

“You have definitely not seen me before,” he responded mysteriously while still not letting go of your hand. You blinked at him again, and perplexed was an understatement. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to rack your brain for any memories or brief encounters with him, but you would have remembered if you had seen him before.

“A-alright, I guess,” you muttered more to yourself than to him, then looked at his hand holding yours. He immediately let go of you as if he had just remembered what he was doing, and he didn’t want to cause any misunderstandings. “But who are you?” You asked as you looked up at him, or rather… you would have looked up at him if he had still been there.

In a blink of an eye, he seemed to have disappeared, and you just stood there, frozen in place, feeling more confused than if you had just fallen down and hurt your head.

Days passed by, and that weight on your shoulders from that mysterious encounter became a little lighter, and you felt like you could move on. At least, until you didn’t manage to spot that exact same boy with the unmistakable long, caramel-brown locks and that slender figure of his.

The problem was that you were on a blind date with the son of one of your mother’s friends, and even though you wanted to focus on what Heeseung was saying, you couldn’t because if you just averted your eyes from the boy in front of you to the other boy sitting by the windows, you couldn’t stop. Your eyes were glued to that mysterious boy, and despite the fact that he didn’t seem to glance your way, you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was watching you.

“So… what do you say?” Heeseung inquired, looking up from his phone as if he had just been checking something, and your throat closed up because you had no idea what he had just said.

“Sorry, I couldn’t get it. What did you say?”

“Do you want to check out that exhibition that I’ve mentioned?” The boy repeated patiently, no sign of judgement in his eyes, so that was good. However, your silly little heart was still prompting you to glance in the other boy’s direction, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung either. He looked back above his shoulder, looking for any sign of anomaly, but when he didn’t find anything, he looked back, and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is there something wrong? You keep glancing behind me as if someone familiar might be around,” he reasoned gently, and gosh, this boy was too good for you. You were just about to shush him, telling him that you must have mistaken that someone, and you didn’t even know him, but in that moment, the long-haired boy glanced your way and caught your eyes. His eyes didn’t widen like yours did, instead, he shook his head as if in disappointment, then went back to scribble something in his notebook. What was his deal, for real?

You were confused, so damn confused.

“I… I just think I need to use the restroom, and I don’t know where it could be,” you tried your best to appear confident in your words, but you knew it must have sounded awful because you were opposite the front door, and no restroom was around the front door of a café.

“It’s right behind you,” Heeseung pointed out helpfully, and you acted as if you were dumbfounded by this fact, then actually made your way to the restroom to freshen up a bit. You did some breathing exercises to calm yourself down, but it didn’t help at all.

You just didn’t like the fact that someone acted as if you had met before when you had definitely not seen him before your little incident last time, then you saw them at the same café you were at for a blind date, not to mention that smirk of his… as if he… as if he had known you, seen right through you.

A cold chill went down your spine as you were reminded of his piercing gaze, but you decided that you would deal with this - with him - like a mature person, so you went back to your table, told Heeseung that you would be up for the exhibition next time, but now, you saw an old friend of yours and wanted to catch up with him, so if he didn’t mind, you would like to go up to him. Heeseung was as understanding as ever, and actually left without making a big deal about it, which you were thankful for. It was odd enough to have the boy here from last time, you didn’t want him to feel bad about ending the date earlier either.

After Heeseung had left, you made your way to the stranger, and as soon as you halted beside his sitting form, he looked up from his notebook. He had seemed to be writing in it, and you wondered for a moment if he was writing a journal like some kind of lifestyle influencer, but then you were reminded of the reason you came up to him and threw the question at him:

“What’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?” The boy furrowed his eyebrows, but his body language didn’t give away his confusion if he had any. In fact, he looked slightly amused, the side of his lips curling upwards.

“Why are you here today after scaring me last time?”

“Scaring you? I saved you,” he corrected you, putting a hand over his heart as if he was hurt. You bit back a retort because after all, he was right, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to say it out loud. You had a feeling that it would only boost his ego. You didn’t know why because he was a stranger, but it felt like you knew him well, or at least, you knew his type. “Can’t I be here though? I live close-by, and it’s not like you’ve reserved the place for yourself and your boyfriend,” he pointed out and shrugged his shoulders with his hands raised as if he was trying to recreate a meme.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you felt the need to justify, but the long-haired boy didn’t take it to heart. Instead, he suggested with a lopsided smirk and leaned closer as if he was telling a secret:

“Well, he could be.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I prefer the word charming, but sure, suit yourself,” his smirk turned boyish and smug as he leaned back in his chair, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. His eyes were twinkling with mirth like a child’s who’s up for nothing good, and despite the fact that you would consider yourself a patient person, you didn’t know how long you could keep up with his remarks.

“So how did it go?”

After the question rolled off his tongue, his expression became more relaxed, more solemn, letting go of his childish side, and there was genuine curiosity written all over his features. He blinked at you expectantly, his fingers playing with the pen he had been writing with, but you couldn’t find the right words to say at first because he was so different to the boy just a minute ago.

“It would have gone better if you had not shown up, but for your information, there will be a next time,” you retorted nevertheless, trying not to take his question and his sudden kindness too seriously.

However, even if you had expected him to doubt your words or mock you, he merely clapped his hands and closed his notebook, neatly attaching the pen to the cover.

“That’s great,” he commented while he started packing. You were so confused by his sudden action that you just stood there without saying a word, and that must have seemed odd to him because he looked up from his bag and raised an eyebrow elegantly.

“What? Now I can’t leave?”

“No, you can, I just…” You wanted to say that you were both surprised and not at all surprised by his antics, but that would have seemed even more odd than him suddenly packing, so you gave up on the idea. “Forget it. I hope I’ll never see you again.”

“Oh, you wound me,” the boy deadpanned, but there was a mischievous smirk in the corner of his lips when he threw the bag over his shoulder and bid his goodbye, articulating an annoyingly sweet ‘see you soon’.

Huh, as if.

You were dead wrong. You kept seeing this guy, and it wasn't until you bumped into him inside your apartment building that you realised that he was your new neighbour, the one who moved into the flat opposite of yours. Which meant that statistically you were bound to encounter him more often, but still…

Every single time you met, you bickered about something, and it annoyed you to no end, yet... you kind of enjoyed the thrill of it. The only plausible reason for that was that this tug of war reminded you of your first love because you had started out like that at an ice cream parlour - bickering about whether mint and chocolate could ever be a realistic combination -, but just the thought of Hyunwook made your heart churn as to how it had ended. How he had ended.

The guy - who introduced himself as Choi Beomgyu - was also awfully interested in your dates with Heeseung, not to mention your toxic workplace that you wanted to quit, but didn't have the courage to do so. You had a feeling that he didn't mean anything bad by asking about such topics and encouraging you to take a leap of faith and apply for other jobs as well as be open to Heeseung because you never knew how it would end, but he did act like a little know-it-all at times which yet again caused a lot of quarrels between you two. As opposed to you, he had pretty vague replies to your questions regarding his life, but compared to you, he seemed to have it all, so you didn't want to ask - just to feel even worse by your own life.

Then, one day, the cup overfilled, and after a date you had practically run away from, he was the last person you wanted to see.

"Hi!" Beomgyu singsonged cheerily as he was exiting his own flat while you were on the top of the stairs to your floor.

You grumbled something akin to a greeting, and you were ready to walk around him to get to your door, but he stood in your way. You let out a huff of air, then moved to the left. Beomgyu did the same. You felt your blood boil as you moved to the right and he did the same.

"Can't you just get out of my way for god's sake?" You exclaimed, agitated, looking up at him. The boy furrowed his eyebrows at your raised voice and the frustration in your words, then asked the obvious:

"Is there something wrong?"

Such a stupid question to ask, and you were stupid to even answer, but your feelings took a hold of you, and you blurted out the words in their rawest form:

"Yes. Everything's wrong. Now, move!"

You practically ordered him, your tone authoritative, but Beomgyu didn’t budge. He seemed like a wall that no matter how hard you tried to pound on, it didn’t budge, as he just stood there, still, his features becoming solemn. There was always that moment when the mischief left his eyes, and concern replaced his usual bubbliness, and this time too, you felt the wall around you thaw a bit when you saw that he was serious. His words did even more so.

"No. I care about you, so I can't just let you go and wallow in your self-hatred alone. Tell me what's wrong, I'll listen.”

The thing that he got totally right was that you liked to keep to yourself when you were upset, frustrated or hurt. You didn’t want to burden anyone with your rants, tears or complaints, so you usually just sat inside your room, trying to deal with it all alone, but his newfound kindness seemed too good to be true. Especially since you bickered most of the time, and you never knew whether he was trying to mess with you or you could take his words seriously.

No wonder you were pretty agitated, and threw the question at him like an accusation, finger pointed at him, the gun loaded:

"Since when did you care about me?"

"I've always cared about you even if you might not have seen it," he replied, totally calm and put together that was totally different in comparison to your messy hair, the tears pricking your eyes and the shakiness of your hands.

You could feel your emotions accumulating and expanding like a balloon, and it all came crashing down when you pulled yourself together to speak up next.

"I can't... I can't do this anymore," you admitted feebly, and once and for all, the balloon burst, your emotions spilling out alongside your confession.

You were a mess of tears, regrets and painful memories that didn’t leave your side. Your shame thrown away, you didn’t care anymore what he would think of you, you told him all about it: fearing leaving your workplace because you didn’t believe in yourself enough that you could fit in anywhere else either, losing your first love in an accident and never letting anyone else get to know you ever since, not friends, not lovers, until Heeseung came along with his gentleness and the purest form of care. Yet, you were afraid that you would break his heart both by loving him and both by possibly leaving him because you didn’t believe that you could ever love anyone as much as you loved Hyunwook.

Not to mention feeling like you were merely a ghost of yourself ever since you had lost him because now you were afraid that happy moments were scarce and temporary, and you didn’t let yourself indulge in anything - from buying new clothes for yourself to trying out new hobbies - because everything would eventually end, so why try and build something up, only to see it crumble down and be swept away like a sandcastle on a beach?

By the end of your monologue, you found yourself in Beomgyu’s minimalistic flat with a cup of camomile tea in your hand - your favourite -, your tears drying on your skin. The boy let you speak as much as you wanted, guiding you through deeper and deeper layers with his questions, and sharing his insights with you. He didn’t seem like that know-it-all boy who loved to tease you, he seemed genuinely supportive and caring, or maybe it was just that you were so under the weather that the smallest gesture of kindness seemed big enough to believe that you were cared for.

“It’s not about believing that you’re cared for, it’s about living life without questioning whether you are cared for,” Beomgyu pointed out wisely before the heaviness was lifted off your chest, and you were overcame by a wave of exhaustion, so much that you dozed off against his couch while he was making you another cup of camomile tea.

After that, nothing really changed, except… everything changed.

You were still bickering with Beomgyu, but he still gave you life lessons without judgement, and after a while, you started to believe him. First, it was to prove him wrong. Then, as you tried out more things and had more courage, it turned into proving yourself wrong. You started looking for jobs while still staying at your current company, and just when you thought nothing would come out of it, you got an offer that you felt right about, so you accepted it. You handed in your resignation, and you couldn’t wait to start working somewhere else.

You also left the house more often to do things by yourself - to go to a coffee shop, to walk in the nearby park, to check out an exhibition and so on. Sometimes, you went with Beomgyu, too. For instance, you went ice skating with him because even though you had always wanted to try it, you had been afraid of falling down and hurting yourself, so you had never gone. Hearing that, the boy offered to go with you, and indeed, when you were about to fall, he held onto your arm to steady you.

“See? Sometimes others can catch you, you just need to be brave enough to risk it,” he said so with a proud smile, one that was bitter and sweet all at the same time, and one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was genuine nevertheless.

Beomgyu also prompted you to be as open with Heeseung as you were with him because if he was the right one, he would understand that you needed time to open up because of your first love. Hence, even though it was difficult to get the words out, you told Heeseung that you enjoyed his company, but you were still not over losing your first boyfriend, and he was extremely understanding about it. Not that he wasn’t kind and caring and all that before, but he did react positively which gave you a boost to be honest with not only him but with yourself as well. You decided on not seeing each other for a while, at least not until you were ready to do so, but you could still message each other and check up on the other if it felt right.

Overall, it seemed like life was a bit easier these days. To be precise, the right word would be lighter. Life was lighter when you didn’t expect yourself to put on a happy facade all the time, and it felt like living for the first time after losing Hyunwook instead of struggling to get through each day. It used to feel like punishment to be seeing another day, and now, it didn’t. You couldn’t say that you were over the moon to get out of bed and do your stuff every single day, but you didn’t feel trapped, and that was already something.

It didn’t mean that everything was all sunshine and rainbows, and you didn’t have bad days. You did, actually, and when one particularly bad day brought you down, you tried to numb all the sudden overwhelming feelings with some alcohol. It didn’t end well as you ended up pounding on Beomgyu’s door, ranting to him about how it always happened - bad things happening after particularly good times - after he let you in, and even though it wasn’t anything big, just one of those days when nothing worked out and you felt shitty about your body and yourself, it was enough to make you emotional.

Not that it was anything new to Beomgyu because it seemed like he was willingly offering to be your emotional support trash can, so you just rambled to him on and on, drinking the water he prepared for you and taking the painkiller he gave you, obeying him like a good girl.

Your words were blurred together just like the sight in front of you, but when you bumped into him in his kitchen, everything was crystal clear - the caramel brown shade of his locks, the sharpness of his jawline, the curves of his lips and the stars dancing in his eyes.

“You know…” You started as you pointed at his eyes, almost punching him in the face with your uncoordinated hand gesture. Beomgyu reached for your hand to (probably) keep himself safe, but his touch wasn’t the one that you focused on. It was something else. “Your eyes… they are like Hyunwook’s. So bright and shiny and mischievous,” you blurted out, taking one step closer to examine his eyes even more. That meant that you were impossibly close to his face, and Beomgyu seemed uncharacteristically flustered by the close proximity.

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment, but you had this immense need inside of you to move even closer to him, and so you found yourself leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

Only to black out later and forget about it the next day as if it had never happened.

Beomgyu knew that something was wrong when he got stuck in his human form after saving you from falling down those stairs. First of all, he shouldn’t have caught you, he had been very well aware of that, but at the same time, he couldn’t have helped it. On the other hand, he had been supposed to go back to his deity form afterwards - the one humans can’t see -, but you had noticed him in the café too which meant that he had failed.

Just like how it was in the human realm, Beomgyu had a feeling that there was a reason he couldn’t go back to his deity form so soon. Something had to happen before that. At first, he had been curious whether it had been him touching you or saving you, but neither had worked, so after a while, he had given up on it, and did what he had been supposed to: to write your destiny as he saw fit.

He wasn’t almighty though, he preferred to say that he wrote the outline of destiny for humans. He could make events happen, but how you reacted to them or if you proceeded to ponder over them were up to the one whose destiny he was writing. In this case, it was you. He could present you with favourable situations and countless opportunities, but he couldn’t make the decisions as to what you would do with them instead of you. He could make you meet Heeseung, but if you were willing to open up to him or not was your decision. He could make you come across a job advertisement perfectly suitable for you, but only you could pick up the courage to apply. He could suggest that you try out new hobbies and change your life, but in the end, it was you who had to make all that happen.

He enjoyed the process though, the process of seeing you bloom, of your world opening up, of your heart being a little lighter. He enjoyed seeing your carefree smiles and hearing your airy laughter. Hell, he even enjoyed listening to your rambles because he knew that no light was without shadow, and in hers, it was you, you were her shadow.

At first, it had only been suspicious because he had stayed trapped in his human form. Then, he had realised that he hadn’t known everything about you as he was supposed to as your writer of destiny after rotating. Destiny deities handed over their own human beings time after time because a deity couldn’t get attached to their human, and different perspectives were needed to better humans’ lives and to see their potential, so around every Lunar New Year, the deities changed. Afterwards, a human’s book of destiny was handed over to the next deity, and when they touched it, they became aware of everything the said human had been through.

Nevertheless, when Beomgyu had touched your book of destiny - that might have seemed like a common notebook to others -, he had felt an inexplicable pang, but he hadn’t been able to put his finger on its source. He should have been able to see why you had felt this way, and why he had to go through the same. Yet, it hadn’t happened.

Not until you kissed him.

Then, everything came back to him all at once: the mint chocolate debate in the ice cream parlour, the bouquet of flowers he had picked out for you for your anniversary, the never-ending Halli Galli games, the silly faces you and Beomgyu made for photos that had been put up on his bedside table, you singing an Ariana Grande song while playing on a child’s playground while tipsy, him tucking you into bed afterwards, making you camomile tea whenever you were on your period, you calling him Hyunwook oppa in a sweet tone and that pain, that inexplicable pain coming back full force after his last memory - the sight of headlights, the power of gravity crashing him.

He remembered that he had been called Jung Hyunwook, and where he had gone to school, and how he had looked like, and how his family had been like, and suddenly, it all made sense why he had stayed stuck in his human form: because he had been connected to you when he had been alive, and he couldn’t have moved on until you moved on.

And just like that, after the kiss, he was sucked into a deep darkness until he found himself back in the deity realm. It didn’t look different from the human world, but it did feel different. He felt different.

“It’s time to go, isn’t it?”

“You have done your fair share. She will be fine,” the voice that always guided him in this realm responded, and Beomgyu winced. Even though his heart didn’t beat anymore, it felt like it did when he was now reminded of you. Deep down, he had a feeling that he had been a human once, but to get to know that he had been your first love was too hard of a pill to swallow. Physically, he had been stuck for months beside you, but he was just starting to realise that he would need time to get unstuck emotionally.

“Will she forget about me?”

“She won’t, but she won’t remember everything about this night either,” the voice announced, and Beomgyu wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved to hear that or not. Not that it mattered because once he handed over your book of destiny to the next deity, he would forget about you, and there was no going back.

You might have been falling time and time again, and he had managed to catch you, but you couldn’t do the same for him. Not anymore. Beomgyu was fine with it though because he could help you mend your heart a bit after breaking it by leaving her world, and that’s what mattered.

“Fine. I’m ready to go,” he announced as he reached the book out and the wind carried it away, carried you and your memories with it, too.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for TXT or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt angst #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together imagines

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aokoaoi · 1 year

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: 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

⌯ two bestfriends, unaware of their romantic feelings for eachother. ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵗʷᵒ

⌯ pairing : shuri x fem!reader

⌯ warning : made up backstory for mc/reader. mentions of character deaths.

You were in the princess' lab once again, only this time, the princess wasn't present anywhere inside the interior. You were sketching a few suit designs for fun to cure yourself for dying out of boredom while you waited for the princess to return.

Where was she perhaps?

You have no idea either.

She had left a few hours ago, but she never told you why. Yet you still stayed in the lab, waiting for her to come back.

The necklace she gave you a few days ago remained on your neck, only being taken off when you go take a shower or sleep. You don't want to risk being choked by the jewelry when your deep in slumber.

You had to admit, you've taken a liking to the jewelry. You were not one to be interested in neck jewelry, only wearing rings and such, but this one happened to crawl its way to your heart.

Probably because it was from the person whom you care about the most, and that wasn't an exaggeration.

The princess and the the rest of the royal family members were always who you considered as your second family. Your parents died long ago, before the 'infinity war'.

Since your mother was one of the members of the elite group, Dora Milaje, the royal members and the elite group members, you were practically trusted by them ever since you were a mere child.

You took interest in being one of the elite group led by an all female member, and you took small training back then. But then you stopped after your parents' deaths. And that's when you started another hobby. Designing.

You enjoyed it, and it gave you an opportunity to be closer to the princess. Your ideas and designs gave her inspiration, and sometimes, a few of your designs would be added into hers. You know about it of course. The princess has never took one of your ideas without asking you.

You can vividly remember her eyes sparking up in interest when she saw a glance of your sketchbook back then.

The thought itself made you lightly chuckle, shaking your head in amusement as you continued to run the pencil through the thick paper.

Soon enough, when you were about to finish your useless doodling, you heard doors opening and footsteps approaching. Your head turned in an instant, and you saw Shuri looking at you with an apologetic look.

"What's wrong?" You frowned, sensing tension from her. You were worried, had something happened when she was away? And of course, being the sweet comforting friend you were, your hand reached out to the princess', rubbing comforting circles on her knuckles with your thumb.

"It's nothing, it's just.. I'll be busy for a few days from now on." She responds in a low whisper.

You looked at her skeptically, feeling as if she's hiding something more important. But you nodded, not wanting to cross her boundaries and make her feel pressured to answer.

"All right.. but you know if you need anything, you can come to me, right?" You tried to give her a comforting smile, watching as she nodded along, trying to match your comforting aura.

She's always loved this side of you. You've always been so understanding even if she didn't tell you the whole reason of her distress. You knew not to cross lines and say any unwanted things that didn't want to me heard.

You've always been so comforting. Loving.

Just like how when he passed.

Both of you were broken by it, but as always, you tried to be stronger and look after her.

"I'm gonna be using the lab more often now, and I really don't want to be disturbed.. so.. yknow."

You continued to nod like a broken doll, "Okay so I'll just chill anywhere but in here?" You questioned, and she hummed. "Yeah. Like the throne room." She retorts, watching your unamused expression. She laughs at it, pinching your cheeks lightly.

"I'd probably be slaughtered by the tension in there." You respond, trying to pull away from her hand, desperately giving her a look as if saying 'stop that'.

"Yeah.. you can barely survive that room without me." She grinned, giggling at you. Her gaze then fell on the necklace that rested right above your chest, and her gaze softened.

She then looked at you affectionately, her softened gaze looking at you with an amotion you can't quite pinpoint.

You lightly laughed, exhaling through your nose. "What? Is there something on my face?" You said, and your hand reached out to wipe something off your face, ad if something was there to begin with.

She just looked at you with a charming smile, unresponsive.

"You look pretty." She whispered, and if you haven't been paying attention, you were sure you wouldn't have heard it from how low her voice was.

Your eyes slightly widened in surprise, a soft blush forming on your cheeks. It was barely visible, but the compliment caught you off guard.

"Shuri, you're acting differently." Your voice snapped her out of her trance.

"Hm?" She hummed, as if she forgot her words earlier. Well it did seem she was lost in her thoughts soo. "What was that, love?" She repeated herself, now seeming like she's composed herself.

"I said—.. nevermind." You waved her off, putting distance between both of you. You hadn't noticed that you both had already been dragged so close after a few blinks back to reality.

"It's already getting late. I should be heading back now." You cleared your throat, walking to the sketchpad and pencil laying lonely on the marbled counters, picking it up from the surface.

Shuri watched, unmoving, contemplating what she should do.

"(name), wait—" She subconsciously called out, stopping you halfway through your actions. Her hands wrapped around your wrist, dragging you away from the counters, and closer to her.

"How about before I get myself busy, we go out right now." She suggests, looking at younwith such hopeful eyes to the point you can't refuse.

"..go out where?" You questioned. Your words made the princess smile enthusiastically. That means that you agree to going out with her, right?

"Anywhere but here. How long has it been since we hung out outside our home, anyway?" You hummed a thought at her question, trying to remember.

"Like.. a month ago."

At your respond, she nods, "Exactly! So let's go find some fun tonight." She enthusiastically says, gently grabbing the sketchbook from your grasp and placing it back down on the counter.

"Wha do you suggest we do?" You frowned, tilting your head in confusion.

"Anything that seems fun. Now, come on!"

Your smooth fingers brushed against the princess' cheeks as she laid on your thigh. You were both in her room after roaming around the city, doing whatever the hell you both saw was interesting, laughing both your asses off, and then went back to rest in her room.

You were certainly too tired to go back to your home, and it wasn't helping that the princess is beginning to doze off on your thigh.

"Dearest?" You softly called out for the princess, watching as her face scrunched up distastefully, her body shifting when she tried to look for a more comfortable laying position.

"Shuri, I have to go soon." You whispered, brushing out her curls away from her face. She whined in complaint, shaking her head hurriedly.

"Don't go yet, love." She croaked out, cracking one eyes open as she showed you a small upset pout. "Stay with me?..please." She pleaded, rising up from her laying position.

Both your proximities were close, the tip of your noses barely touching. You didn't push away from the close proximity this time, feeling too tired to even do the slightest of movements.

"I'm afraid that's not allowed, princess. Even if it is, I'm sure it's not appropriate." You said, grinning slightly at her tired expressions.

"Nobody will know. C'mon just a few more hours before I get busy and drowned in my work. I wanna spend those few more hours with you." She pouted childishly, and you chuckled, finally giving in.

"Alright, alright." You hummed a laugh, and she smiled softly.

"I'm staying on the couch though." You added. She let out a sound of distaste, shaking her head. "Absolutely not." She refused.

"What, where will I go then?" You questioned, and she pointed at her bed.

"Shuri, no."

"Come on, please?"

"..Are you sure?"

"Yes! It'll be like a sleepover." She says with a grin. You exhaled a sigh, looking over to the big bed with an hesitant look. "Fine." You responded after your contemplating.

part one, part three, and part four of this short 'series'.

I hope the made up backstory wasn't too much and confusing:) kinda rushed, but I couldn't resist myself from the princess<\3

there will be a continuation.

#shuri x reader #princess shuri #shuri black panther #shuri fluff #shuri udaku #character x reader #black panther wakanda forever #black panther #black panther shuri #queen shuri #shuri fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #mcu #marvel #marvel studios #—aoifics #letitia wright shuri #letitia wright

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months

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My Problematic Girl-Chapter 5

Character: College!Steve Rogers x Rich!Female Reader

Prologue: Steve has lived being nobody in this prestigious university. He just wants to graduate and get a job to get more money to pay the bills for his mother's surgery.

But his life turned upside when a new student attended his class. His quiet and dull life became dangerous and full of surprises.

×××

She exhaled the cigarette smoke from her lips. She still doesn’t care even though he told her he has asthma.

She looked at Steve and said, “Bark for me.”

Steve felt humiliated, and his pride was crushed. But she held his life and secrets. He had to bury his dignity to the ground, and he murmured,

“Woof.”

******

I would appreciate any comments and feedback you can give me.

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 ,Chapter 8 , Chapter 9,-

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‘See you tomorrow’.

That's what she said. But she didn't come to campus again.

He doesn’t have Y/N's phone number; even if he did, he doesn’t want to know where she is.

At least walking alone on the campus gives him peace of mind. Steve went to the storage building behind the art faculty building. He wants to reorganize the painting that he put in storage.

The purpose of the storage is to put the students' artwork, but nobody ever uses it. Except for Steve, his apartment doesn’t have enough space to put all his artwork. So the storage became his studio.

Oasis is a perfect word to describe it. The only place he could be free.

He types the code to open the door; one of the most incredible things about Stark University is its security system.

Steve pushed the door to see his favorite place, but instead, what he saw was…

Nothing.

"Urgh." He wants to pass out. Steve grabbed the asthma inhaler from his bang to his mouth to breathe.

What the heck is going on here?

Before he could think clearly, he got a text message from an unknown number that said.

"West Building. 5 Minutes."

Steve immediately sprints to the location. He could figure out who sent it because of the site. It is the chancellor's office.

That means she's there, and she took his painting.

"Hufft"

Steve was able to take a breath when he arrived.

There he saw the works that he thought had gone missing turned out to be inside the chancellor's office.

But something is different from his painting because his canvas is framed now.

It looks more beautiful than before. But who did this?

"Oh, you're here."

Steve was taken aback by his painting; he didn't realize there was a photo lighting, camera, photographer, and the last person he wanted to see.

Y/N.

Today she dressed in a light blue tweed suit with white stiletto heels. She looks different if he met her for the first time, he would probably thought she's a normal person.

Steve wants to scream at her for almost making him go insane, but he holds it in because other people are here.

"What's going on?"

"We're going to promote your painting using him." Y/N pointed her finger to the make-up table where everyone gathered.

"Tony."

Everyone near the make-up table stops what they're doing and makes way for the person who sits in the center to stand up.

Tony Stark. Steve never saw him this close. He became nervous.

"I could see why she chose you." Tony straightened his suit while walking towards Steve.

Then he pointed at one painting. "That's an amazing art piece. Why did I never see your painting in the hallway?"

So, in the Art Faculty, there's always an event where they choose one artwork from the student every month. Most of the students from his class got chosen, except Steve.

Steve answered, "Because the chosen painting is based on likes on social media. And I don't have that many friends."

"Hmm, bummer."

Tony's answer made Steve grit his teeth. It reminded him of Y/N.

"Next time, I will get the expert to judge not by popular contest. If Y/N didn't meet you, I wouldn't discover the hidden talents from my campus."

When Steve heard that, he felt giddy inside because someone famous as Tony appreciated his work.

Choosing Tony to promote his art is a good move because even though Tony is an eccentric man, he is also a trendsetter. Many wealthy men looked up to him.

They will follow in his footsteps if they see Tony's new interest, collecting Steve's art.

Steve hated to admit it, but Y/N made the best move.

Tony crossed his arms and tapped his fingers, still looking at Steve from head to toe. He sighed. "You're too skinny, and you need to have a makeover. I can't be photographed with you like this."

He waved his hand to call his secretary "Jarvis."

A man with a British accent approaches Tony, "Yes, sir."

Tony pointed at Steve and said, "Hired a trainer and stylist for this kid. Prepare him before the exhibition."

Jarvis noted on the tablet, "I will arrange it."

'Ehh?!' What did he just say? Trainer and stylist?

'CLAP!'

Tony clapped his hands, which made the photoshoot crew look at him; he smiled at them and said, "Shall we start?"

When everyone's attention move to Tony, Steve uses this chance to talk to Y/N. He grabbed his hand and said, "You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought my paintings were stolen."

Y/N touched his right chest; her sudden action made him blush. He immediately pushed her hand away.

She chuckled, amused by his reaction. "Your heart is beating normally."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now, Y/N. You took everything I had out of the blue without telling me."

Steve doesn't have much; his painting is his most precious treasures.

And Y/N just took all he had without asking him. Steve clenched his fist.

His anger from the past came back, and he said, "Just like your father. Brian L/N."

When he mentioned her father's name, he swore he saw Y/N lose her usual calm composure.

She turns her face away from Steve. He notices both of her hands start trembling again, like yesterday.

Then her shoulder shook, and he could hear her laughing. She looked at him and said, "Bravo, Steve. You weren't as clueless as I thought."

Steve clenched his fist; he wanted to scream at this woman. Why could she laugh while he was stressed out and couldn’t sleep?

She glanced at her watch and said, "Let's have a drink, and I'll explain everything to you."

He gasped; what was she thinking asking him to drink at 11 a.m.?

Well, she’s Y/N; she could do whatever she wants.

At the bar.

Y/N put down her whiskey glass and then grabbed the burnt cigarette from the crystal ashtray to her lips.

Steve is sitting in front of her; he doesn’t want to sit beside her because the smoke would trigger his asthma. “Smoking could kill you.”

She laughed while exhaling the smoke. “That’s the whole point.”

Steve didn’t find it funny.

Both of them have been in this private room at the exclusive club for 15 minutes, and she hasn’t started talking.

He crossed his arms and leaned back onto the leather couch. It is comfortable, but he can’t find any comfort now.

“You owe me an explanation.”

Y/N hummed at his words. She put out the cigarette to the ashtray, get rid of the tobacco taste from her lips with whiskey.

She leaned closer to Steve. “If I tell you everything, you must work with me until I say you’re done.”

Steve rolled his eyes, then raised both arms. “You have taken everything I have, Y/N. Just say it.”

She chuckled. “If you say so.”

Y/N became silent momentarily; then, her lips started moving. "But first, I want to clear my name from your accusations. I didn't take anything from you. Rather I gave you an opportunity."

‘BANG!’

Steve punched the mahogany table, "Bullshit, what opportunity? Since the beginning, it was you who took all the decisions."

‘Shit, it hurts.’ Even though his skinny hands hurt from punching the table, he needs to hold the pain.

Y/N doesn’t bother with his sudden anger outburst, “I’m not done talking. What if I gave you a chance to ruin Brian Solomon?”

Steve noticed she never mentioned Brian L/N as ‘my father’, that means “You hate him.”

After he said those words, he felt Y/N's expression change to anger.

“Hate is not enough to describe my feelings towards him.”

“Why do you hate your father?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “If he didn't have an affair with one of his clients that shocked my mother and made her die of a heart attack, and he didn't marry his mistress a week later after burying his wife, I probably wouldn't hate him.”

She continued, “What kind of father trusts his step-daughter more than his daughter who shares the same blood.”

Steve is out of words. She has a vendetta against her father and Solomon's family.

“But why did you bring me into this?”

Y/N lit another cigarette to ease her stress, “You probably have known why I got kicked out from the household.”

“Your case about Imperial University almost ruined the Solomon name.”

Y/N nodded. “I was too immature and made a mistake. They banned me from all their business while I needed access to the law firm.”

“But why me?”

Y/N raised her three fingers “Art, gallery, and money laundering. Solomon own an auction house called Napoleon’s. They are the only auction house in this city with the biggest money laundering client.”

“I already have two, art and the connection. But I don’t have anything to sell. I need to get their attention by making a lot of money in one night.”

“So you picked me.”

“Yes!!!”

“There’s other artist you could hired.”

“I could do that, but that wicked witch is watching me. If I hire a well-known artist, she will hire them first. That artist will agree to work with Napoleon rather than for me.”

The wicked witch she mentioned was probably her stepmother or step-sister.

“Then, when I saw your work, I got an idea. Why not use a painting from an unknown artist? You are a perfect choice, then the PR team I hired will do their job.”

"My plan is only to sell you a painting made them jealous how come a small exhibition could receive that kind of money in one night. They don't want their first place to get taken away."

Steve clicked his tounge "You're a hypocrite. You hate your father while enjoying the luxury."

"Ooh, you mean this?" Her hands show he outfit and watch. "My car and my money?"

She scoffed. "I haven't touched any cents from that man. All of this is from the investment by my mother before she died. And the audacity of them trying to steal my inheritance."

She put down her whiskey glass and took a document from her bag.

"Here is the contract."

Ah, she mentioned it yesterday. He grabs the contract and starts reading.

1. She will give him $50.000.

2.Y/N will pay for his mother's surgery

3. Every painting gets sold, he will get 80%.

He almost jolted his eyes; she didn't lie when she said he would get many benefits.

"Where should I sign?"

Y/N chuckled while giving him a pen. “You’re a funny man Steve.”

After Steve signed the contract, both of them decided to go back.

While on their way to her car, Steve asked, "You haven't told me your plan to deal with Brian." He stopped mentioning Brian as 'your father' to Y/N since she hated that person.

"Ah, I will tell you another day,-"

Before she could finish her sentences, something held her waist and made her turn around.

She gasped when she saw the person she had been avoiding for months. "Brock?"

The tall man with black hair who wears a black suit put his around Y/N's shoulder. He didn't even notice Steve was there the whole time. "Finally, I found you. You left me worried since you never replied to my text ."

Steven doesn't understand why he has this big urge to push this guy away from Y/N, seeing her uncomfortable.

Before he could do anything, Y/N pushed that guy away from her.

"Let's go." Her eyes already speak to Steve, telling him to follow her. He glanced back to see the man still looking at them.

While Y/N drove the car, Steve asked her, "Who was that?"

"My ex-boyfriend."

Steve made an 'Ooo' face; he didn't know what to say anymore.

"If you saw him, it's better to avoid him. He's crazy."

"Same as you?"

"Wow, you're getting brave, Steve. I take it back. He's a piece of trash because he sleeps with my step-sister when he's with me."

There’s a man who dares to betray Y/N? "A bastard and a liar."

Y/N agreed, and she nodded her head.

She dropped him off at the hospital. Through the window, she told him, "I think today is your lucky day."

Steve doesn't know what she is talking about; at least today, he understands her motive.

He went into a patient room where Sarah stayed, and when he opened the curtain, he saw her crying.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

Sarah wiped her tears, hugged her son, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I received the news that they found the donor, and the surgery is scheduled for next week."

This great news took Steve aback. He knew all this could happen after signing the contract with Y/N. The power of money and connection.

He knew these things could go south, but if he could make his mother healthy again, he would go through hell.

Thank you for reading. I hope you like it.

You can tell me if you want to join the tag list. Don't be shy 😘💖💜💙

I will always be grateful for those who reblog. Thank you so much.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9,-

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #chris evans characters #my problematic girl series #steve rogers au #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x dark!female reader #pre serum steve rogers #pre serum steve x reader #chris evans #chris evans fandom #today on tumblr

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whitedemon-ladydeath · 5 months

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it's really frustrating to be held for something i said well over 5 years ago from someone that has me blocked in the first place to the point posts im making *now* are getting tone policed by a third party. granted, it was something out of line and ableist and thoughtless towards papa archeron and its absolutely fair to be mad about it!! I completely understand and I wouldn't be caught dead saying something like that now as I have done a lot of self educating and growing and reflecting

but what makes it so frustrating is I make a post about being frustrated about Feyre not painting Nesta, but still painting their father. I believe I said something about him being useless and believe it or not, he *was* useless and it had absolutely nothing to do with him being disabled. He was a useless parent long before then. He neglected and abandoned Nesta well before he was hurt or they lost their wealth and the moment they got it back he was miraculously healed up enough to go right back to ignoring his daughters and traversing the world

his character is so hollow and flat that there's very little for me, personally, to find sympathetic. *He* lost their wealth and their fortune and in doing so he lost money to debt collectors. it's absolutely horrific that Feyre was made to bare witness to that and beg for them to stop hurting him. I identify so much with Feyre in that regard. That still does not remove the fact it was his own actions that led to that in the first place. if he got beaten within an inch of his life for losing that much money who the hell was he WORKING with in the first place (we don't know bec SJM is a shitty writer)

He is directly responsible for their loss of wealth and I am not personally holding him responsible for the last of it being used to partially heal his leg. however he IS still responsible for the loss of it in the FIRST place. his disability is a result of poor financial decisions and ofc there is no excuse to be ableist towards him for it

quite frankly he's written so poorly that there's nothing I personally can latch onto to give him much benefit of the doubt. I'm still going to hold him more responsible for not trying to find SOME WAY to take care of his daughters. NESTA reached out to relatives, FEYRE stepped up to hunt for them and he... makes wood carvings that don't even sell

Nesta being more vilified for the cabin years compared to their father, who is directly responsible for the loss of their wealth, has made me heartless towards him

he was useless before they lost their wealth and he was useless well after. He was, quite frankly, a deadbeat father, who threw Nesta to the wolves (his wife and her mother), who favored Feyre and Elain over her time and time again and I'm sorry but me saying he's useless is exactly what he was

he's a useless parent who let his children be neglected and/or further abused by his wife. maybe if SJM wrote him better, with more nuance, actually building on the dynamics between his wife and himself, instead of saying he was afraid of NESTA, a fourteen year old girl, I might have a different opinion but right now he doesn't have a whole lot of sympathy from me considering my own history with my disabled, terminally ill mother doing her best and killing herself taking care of us while also in an abusive, violent marriage

SJM didn't write it well enough for me to offer any kind of grace bec quite frankly, I am also really, really sick of father figure characters getting off the hook while the female characters are burned at the stake for being flawed and/or unperfect caretakers, which, to be clear, Nesta WAS NOT in the first place

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta archeron #sjm critical #anti sjm #papa archeron

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humanpurposes · 8 months

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From Eden

Chapter 2: Some part of me came alive

Danes attack Wincombe Abbey and a young novice crosses paths with a group of mercenaries and their Baby Monk // Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Osferth x Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+, suggestive themes, religious guilt, pathetic yearning

Words: 3400

A/n: I did not spellcheck the names. Also available to read on AO3.

Since joining Lord Uhtred, Osferth had seen enough of the back of his horse’s head to make him sick. They moved constantly, never settling anywhere for long. So he savoured each stop, and every night he spent in a bed rather than a forest floor or a field, he made sure to express his gratitude in his prayers.

Only the ride from Wincombe was anything but dull. The girl from the abbey, Bridget, was rather impossible to ignore, pressed tightly against his back and shrouding his cloak around his shoulders to keep them both warm.

He slowed the horse once they had caught up with the rest of the group. She settled then, holding her hands on his shoulders, turning her head and resting her temple at the base of his neck through the thick material of his tunic. A thrill ran down his spine, one he hardly allowed himself to feel.

The snow was starting to settle now, crunching under the hooves of the horses. The sky was overcast with grey clouds, yet the world seemed so bright. Bridget marvelled at the sight of the land beyond the abbey, letting out breathless little gasps at hills and woodlands.

“When was the last time you were this far from the abbey?” Osferth asked, turning over his shoulder a little.

Her wide eyes glanced up at him before she lifted her head. He suddenly felt cold with the absence.

“I haven’t been beyond the woods in over a decade,” she said, her voice was light, finding its place between wonder and sadness.

He had much been the same, hardly venturing from the walls of the minster in Winchester, until he decided to seek out Lord Uhtred.

“Is that how long you have been at the abbey?” he asked.

“Yes,” is all she said. He had half expected a tale of her life, of her mother and father, but she simply sighed and looked ahead, peering over his shoulder to the others riding in front of them.

He told her of their company, of Lord Uhtred, a man born to a Northumbrian Lord and raised by Danes, hoping to reclaim his home. He told her how he had found himself tied to other matters. He was a warrior, a loyal servant and friend of King Alfred, but most recently he had become intent on his pursuit of the seer, Skade.

“What is his interest in her?” Bridget asked.

Osferth tutted to himself. Uhtred’s obsession with Skade had brought them nothing but misfortune and death thus far. “He believes himself to be cursed.”

“And do you believe that?”

“She is of the devil,” he said, “sent to tempt the hearts of men. That is all I care to know of it.”

And yet Uhtred remained intent on finding her.

As they rode on, he told her of the other men, Finan, the Irishman, and Shitric, the Dane, the greatest and the bravest warriors he had ever known– save for his Lord, of course.

“And what of you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

She nodded ahead. “Uhtred of Bebbanburg, Finan the Irishman and Shitric the Dane. Where do you come from?”

He frowned and suddenly his cross felt heavier around his neck. He had been left to the monastery with no name, no title, just the weight of his father’s sins. “I am simply Osferth,” he said.

“That can’t be true,” Bridget said. “What was it Finan called you? Baby Monk?”

His body went rigid. God, he hated that name, even more so now that she had said it.

She chuckled softly. “That makes you something,” she said.

He doubted she would soon forget the topic. “I was born in Winchester,” he said with a reluctant sigh.

“And how did you come to serve Lord Uhtred?”

“My uncle said he was a great man. I sought him out, to join him.”

“So you do have a family?”

Hardly. He had few memories of Leofric, even less of his mother.

One of Bridget’s hands slipped from his shoulder, resting against his arm. “I can stay silent if you’d prefer, seeing as you’re so intent on remaining mysterious,” she said.

“No– no,” he insisted as he cleared the tight feeling in his throat. “My life is anything but mysterious, I assure you.”

“A simple man, formerly of the cloth,” she mused.

He sounded painfully dull with the way she put it, but what was the alternative? Bastard… coward… boy.

“I suppose so,” he muttered.

As the sun slipped below the hills and night crept into the sky, Lady Aethelflaed at last decided they would make camp for the night, despite Uhtred’s determination to press on to Saltwic.

They found cover under a grove of trees where they could tie the horses, gather firewood and seek some shelter from the snow.

Osferth dismounted first, swinging his leg over the horse’s head before he turned back to Bridget. She braced herself on his shoulders as he put his hands on her waist and guided her down. Perhaps the fall was further than she anticipated; her hands tightened their grip on his shoulders and she took a sharp breath before her feet touched the ground.

“Are you alright?” Osferth asked.

“Yes, of course,” she mumbled. Her eyes flittered between his face and the ground. He had an awful feeling he had done something wrong and quickly released his hands from her.

He made quick work of unloading the canvas, bedroll and furs from his horse before he went about his usual duties, building the fire, beginning on the broth to feed the men. Bridget stood restlessly, fiddling with her hands in front of her skirts, reaching for her hair to fix a habit she no longer wore. He watched her in the corner of his eye as he worked, and gestured for her to join him by the fire once the flames came alive.

She still had his cloak on her and when she moved to take it off he stopped her. She smiled in thanks and pulled it back over her shoulders.

Even then she was unsettled. Her head turned everywhere, watching Uhtred setting up a tent for himself and Lady Aethelflaed, Finan and Shitric as they sharpened their swords and poured themselves cups of ale.

“Your first night away from the abbey,” Osferth said and bit his tongue immediately after. It was a rather obvious thing to point out.

She cautiously eyed the other men around them, setting up their own beds and fires.

“You needn’t fear them,” Osferth said. “They will not harm you.”

As she turned towards him, her eyes and skin caught the light of the fire. In that moment she was golden and radiant, the very image of the angels he praised in his prayers. Suddenly his mouth felt dry– perhaps he needed a drink of ale.

She smiled softly. “I am not afraid, Osferth.”

His eyes were drawn to her lips and her teeth as she said it. He had never known his own name to sound so pleasant.

Lord Uhtred appeared from the tent to fetch a bowl of broth for Lady Aethelflaed, before he, Finan and Shitric joined them by the fire to eat and drink.

Finan handed Bridget a cup of ale. “The more you drink the easier it is to fall asleep,” he said, “you’ll need it with the cold.”

She winced at the first sip but laughed it off with the others. “Stronger than I’m used to,” she said.

“Does she have a bed?” said Uhtred.

“She’ll have mine,” Osferth said without hesitation.

Finan and Shitric shared an amused look. Bridget tilted her head at him. There was that strange feeling in his stomach again, like he’d done something wrong.

“I’ll just sleep on the ground,” he clarified.

The fire kept them warm enough for an hour or so, but as the night grew darker it brought heavier snow and wind, nipping at the bare bits of Osferth’s skin, his face and fingertips. Without his cloak he felt the cold seeping through to his very bones.

He was as quiet as usual, while Finan and Sihtric reminisced back on battles and nights spent in alehouses. Bridget watched them with wide eyes and wonder.

He hardly noticed Lord Uhtred’s departure and subsequent return with a bedroll, dropping it at his feet.

“Lord?”

“You’ll sleep better with it,” Uhtred said. “Now retire, all of you, we leave at first light.”

Osferth pointed Bridget towards the tent he had set up and told her to use as many furs as she needed.

Once he had taken the broth pot from the fire and gathered Lord Uhtred’s bedroll, he made towards the tent. Until a firm hand stopped him by his shoulder.

“You’re a better man than I, Baby Monk,” Finan muttered into his ear with an audible grin. “I’d have her sharing my bed.”

He brushed Finan’s hand away and clenched his jaw to stop himself smiling.

Was he truly being that obvious? He wanted to think that he wasn’t, but with every step he took towards the tent, the more he thought of her, lying on his bedroll, wrapped in his cloak and his furs to keep out the cold, the more he began to doubt himself.

She only caught his attention back at Wincombe when she approached him in the hall– the girl from the woods who had directed them towards the abbey. She seemed curious, fascinated at the prospect of him having left his order in Winchester, and when Haesten had attacked, she had acted courageously in spite of her fear. Heaven above, she had killed one of the men, which was one more than he could claim from his first battle.

He was acting by the guidance of the Lord, he told himself, in offering her his care and protection. He intended to honour his word.

He was glad to be out of the snowfall and under the canvas. His cloak had been left on the branch of a tree, hanging within the tent, and Bridget had settled on the bedroll, huddling in a single layer of fur. He could see her shivering.

He laid out Lord Uhtred’s bedroll, in what small space he had. He fastened the cloak around himself, leaving his boots and his gloves on as he settled. It was too cold for anything less.

Bridget was on her side and facing him, fur pulled up to her chin, eyes squeezed shut, teeth chattering and lips trembling as she let out shaky, icy breaths.

Even as the snores of the other men sounded from the other tents, she was still shivering.

He whispered her name, and she responded with a short “hmm.”

“You’re cold,” he said.

She opened her eyes. “Finan’s trick with the ale didn’t work,” she grumbled.

He smiled. “Don’t trust everything Finan tells you.”

She angled her brows in a helpless expression and smiled back.

An idea crossed his mind, one that would have Finan grinning like a devil, but he couldn’t just leave her to the cold. He adjusted the fur around him and held it out.

“May I?” he asked at the questioning frown on Bridget’s face.

She shuffled closer to him, dragging the fur with her as she settled herself under his arm and against his chest.

Osferth brought the fur around her, pulling her in a little closer, her head fitting perfectly under his chin. He felt the gentle force of her breath against the collar of his cloak, leaving his skin feeling deprived of her.

She fell asleep quickly. A subtle feeling of pride swelled in his chest, but sleep did not come as easily to him. He could hardly rest, he had to make sure the furs were wrapped around her, that his arm wasn’t pressing in too harshly to her body, but that his hold was firm enough to keep her warm.

And then there were her little hums and heavy breaths. They were soft sounds, unobtrusive, soothing in a way, and his heart leapt at each one.

He tried to think of the last time he had been this close to someone. He and Finan and Shitric had found themselves in uncomfortably close proximity, finding sleep where they could on their travels. Having Bridget by his side, nestled against him, her face delicately fallen and a picture of peace in his embrace, was entirely different.

He let his hand trace over the curve of her waist and settle against her back. He liked the feel of her under his touch, their breaths moving together, her body pressed against his.

But what was it the holy book preached? The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.

He clenched his jaw and tucked the edge of the fur under his hand so his palm would not touch her, not directly at least.

Bridget insisted she was used to rising early, especially after she had slept so well– a detail which had earnt Osferth a smug look from Finan, which he met with another frown.

The mind governed by the flesh is death.

He recited those words in his head over and over again, as he helped Bridget into the saddle, as she put her hands around his waist, as her hips gently rocked against him with the movement of the horse, but he kept his head high and his hands tight on the reins.

It took a matter of hours to reach Saltwic. The men were all glad to be under a roof with some more substantial food in their bellies; spit-roasted meat, bread and more than a few mouthfuls of ale.

Though before long, Osferth found himself being dragged out of the hall by his shoulders and Finan’s insistence that they should make use of their time to train.

Bridget was already waiting for them in the courtyard. She had shed her nun’s robes now, dressed in garments she must have been given by Lady Aethelflaed; a shirt, tunic and breeches. Modest, but he doubted her sisters at the abbey would approve. She wore them well.

By her side she held a sword, shorter and slimmer compared to the blades wielded by Lord Uhtred and his men. Osferth looked down at his own weapon, long and slight, made to match his body.

“Which would win in a fight, a Baby Monk or a Little Novice?” Finan said cherrily, striding between them.

Osferth and Bridget shared a look of confusion.

Finan held his arms out as though he were expecting an answer. “Let's find out, shall we?” Then he withdrew, leaving nothing but empty space and a few settled snowflakes between them.

Surely he did not mean for them to attack each other without even showing Bridget how to properly wield a sword. Not that Osferth was a well seasoned fighter himself. He had seen battle, but he often let himself fall into the background unless it was necessary.

Bridget had a fighter’s instincts at least. She had hardly hesitated to slay one of the attackers at Wincombe. He might have been dead if she hadn’t. With that he felt a little less guilt about taking a single step forward as he adjusted the grip on his sword.

She reacted sharply, like an animal to a hunter. In a heartbeat her posture had completely changed. She was poised, her eyes wide and alert, her feet in a fighting stance and her sword at her side.

It was easy to pick up on her movements, the little signs of instinct in every reaction. Finan had often told him this was a weak point of his, the inability to read his opponent, but with her, he was acutely aware of where she was putting her weight, where her eyes were looking, each little intake of breath as they stalked around each other.

When she moved first, he raised his blade to block her, then matched her again when she took a swing at his middle.

Their swords met with a ringing clash. The metal hissed as he drew his blade along hers until they fell apart.

His heart was racing and his breaths shallow. He was becoming impossibly warm under the weight of his robes and chainmail.

Bridget was poised again, a gleam in her eyes and a small smile playing in the corner of her mouth.

“The girl’s a natural,” Finan called, “she’s picking this up faster than you did, Baby Monk!”

Osferth meant to shoot his friend a glum glare until he saw a flash of movement, her hair and the wave of her sword. He looked back to Bridget in time to parry her strike, but not before she moved around him and delicately placed her blade on his shoulder, over his chainmail, close enough to his neck to affirm her victory.

She was close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.

She smiled, proud of herself but without cruelty. It made his chest ache, not unpleasantly.

“Where did you learn to fight?” Finan asked.

A small part of Osferth died as she turned her eyes away from him. She lowered her sword and stepped away.

“I learnt a little from my brother,” she said.

“Good man himself,” Finan said, drawing his own blade and nodding for them to follow his lead as he brought them through a few stances.

“Yes,” she said softly, “yes he was.”

Osferth hardly let himself look upon her as they trained, unless Finan asked them to spar. They became less evenly matched each time they did so. He found himself slipping further and further into his own mind. Each time she smiled at him it awakened something bright and unnerving within him. He clasped at the memory of having her waist in his hand, her breath against his neck, her body pressed into his.

He excused himself once Finan decided they were done and decided to forgo the suggestion that they replenish themselves in the hall with more meat and ale.

He went to the chapel, tucked away in the corner of the estate within Lady Aethelflaed’s private apartments. It was far from the noise of the stables, the rowdiness of the hall, the heat creeping under his skin every time his eyes met Bridget’s.

The chapel was small, cold and dark, lit only by a collection of candles at the altar. He came to his knees on the stone floor before it, clutching his cross in his hands.

He asked for peace of mind, for clarity, for an answer.

Why her? Why had the Lord seen fit to guide them to Wincombe and urge her to join them? Why had his mind become so utterly consumed by her, not some lewd temptress of cruel intention or evil spirit, but a woman of beauty, warmth and courage? Perhaps it was a tempting of faith, a lure to sin and depravity.

“The mind governed by the flesh is death,” he whispered to himself, “but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.”

A breeze blew through the chapel, ceasing when the door was quietly closed.

Osferth froze, stroking his thumb over his cross.

Soft footsteps moved against the flagstones until a figure stood at the altar. She was still in her training clothes, her hair flowing freely down her back. Most of her face was obscured in shadow, save for the edges of her cheek and her nose. He watched her hands as she lit a taper and brought it to the wick of a new candle.

She bowed her head in a silent prayer, the flames lighting the curve of her lips. She whispered something to herself but the words eluded him. He wondered what she might be praying for, if she felt the same turmoil as he did.

The room remained silent, save for the hum of the flames. Ordinarily he found peace in silence, but now it felt unbearable.

Bridget turned around, still bathed in darkness, an intangible vision, like a ghost, untouchable. The colour of her eyes were lost to darkness but he felt them boring into his.

She took a step closer to where he knelt. He held his cross a little tighter as traced the shape of her slightly parted lips, and felt a restless urge rising in his gut.

“What are you praying for, Osferth,” she said.

Without thinking he flexed his hand to regain some feeling in it. He might as well have been a lifeless entity otherwise.

The mind governed by the flesh is death.

“Strength,” he uttered, desperately keeping his eyes on her face, not the curves of her body and the belt cinching in her waist. “And courage also.”

Bridget suddenly retreated into herself. She kept her hands clasped in front of her and smiled. “I pray for that too.”

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

From Eden taglist: @greenowlfactif @tinykryptonitewerewolf @bellaisasleep @brianochka @doomwhathouwilt @sarahkimtae

#my fics #osferth x reader #osferth fanfiction #osferth fanfic #osferth smut #the last kingdom #tlk #seven kings must die #baby monk #osferth x oc #osferth x y/n #osferth x ofc #ewan mitchell

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 1 month

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medialog february 2k24

is it almost april. yes. am i letting that stop me. no. the perfect is the enemy of the good!

watched

she must be seeing things - a 1987 indie about a woman who gets obsessively jealous about her girlfriend's past after discovering her collection of photographs of ex-boyfriends; this movie contained one of the most human-feeling love scenes taking place between two characters in an established relationship i have ever seen, and captured the feel of new york city apartments inhabited by the un-rich in a visceral way. it is also a funny movie about how annoying artists are. i am like sincerely curious as to whether jonathan larson, during the years before or while he was developing rent, caught a screening of this (it had its premiere at film forum, where i saw it), because a story of sexual jealousy between a very professional black lesbian lawyer and her irritating yet captivating white bisexual artist girlfriend... did feel a little familiar to me as a person who could still belt out every line of take me or leave me in my sleep, ngl!

poor things - we've discussed this but: Yes. Me. Absolutely. i wanted to live in the world of this movie forever, it could have been four hours long and i NEVER say that shit. one of those where sometimes i see critiques or queries i think are valid and i nod peacefully and think: ah, but it wasn't for that; it was for me, to have a treat. also one of those where people are saying some bonkers ass shit about it all over the place, as we have also discussed; i do genuinely believe that reading it as in any way interested in or convinced it is describing a story of female empowerment is deeply misguided, and that much of the pleasure of the movie comes from the fact that bella doesn't need to be empowered, because she has been lucky enough to be raised as an experiment rather than as a woman, which is a fun sexy provocation that is of course nonsensical if taken literally but incredibly fun for me (the person this movie was for) to sit with for two hours.

office space - i watched this in high school and HAAAATED it, was bored out of my mind, and then every time it came up in conversation, which it did a lot because this is how things were in high school in 2005, i would say i didn't get it and the person i was talking to would say, "you have to watch it twice." i don't think i've ever had an experience with a piece of media where the response to my response was so reliably uniform. anyway yeah this is funnier the second time. stephen root might be our greatest living actor idk

drive-away dolls - YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITCHHHHHHHH

the heartbreak kid - elaine may's mikey and nicky is one of the most emotionally brutal films i've ever watched, but i think i found this harder to sit through. it's brilliant - i talked about it with a friend who'd seen it sometime earlier who said it was the first movie she could remember seeing that confronted men's fantasies so directly, which is apt - but absolutely excruciating. i never really understood what the film people were talking about when they talked about the use of cuts to build/release tension until the scene at a restaurant where a guy keeps winding himself up to break up with his wife on their honeymoon, and not doing it, and the camera just makes you stay with him until you are begging for relief.

sex, lies & videotape - rewatch with director's commentary. steven soderbergh is definitely on the list of famous people i delusionally believe i could be friends with if the circumstances of life had caused our paths to overlap.

zone of interest - another one that has really Brought Out The Takes, about which i'll just say: no one in this movie is turning a blind eye to what they're doing with the possible exception of the mother, who's happy to join in with some chattily murderous antisemitism but finds the material reality of it too distasteful to stay (in at least one potential reading of a plot point left interestingly ambiguous). personally i thought the film was (1) almost completely disinterested in the question of the banality of evil (2) quite good.

mission: impossible - i talked my friend into going through the series with me and we started off with a double-header; the colors in this movie are sooooooo good. tom cruise at this point has obviously had work done by xenu's finest specialists but revisiting this did remind me that he actually also genuinely always has looked quite young for his age - he's 34 in this but he looks like a baby.

mission: impossible - 2 - i literally can't believe there are people who don't like this movie. grow up

read

monster midway: an uninhibited look at the glittering world of the carny, william lindsay gresham - i guess i don't know what i expected from a nonfiction book about the carnival by the author of nightmare alley, the great american novel, but it definitely wasn't 300 pages about how the carnival is the most special and wonderful place on earth and the people who've given their lives to it are the noblest, boldest, most magical folks you can find. i particularly enjoyed the section on palmistry as cold-reading, which included a long quote from fake psychic about how really most people just need to be told some basic emotional truths and to believe in themselves, so if she can give them that, that's a dollar well spent, which is tbh hard to argue with.

listened

rosie tucker - tiny songs vol. 1 - rosie tucker came onto my radar through one of dave's mixes, which i'm still listening to - her song "all my exes live in vortexes," which opens "i hope no one had to piss in a bottle at work to get me the thing i ordered on the internet," caught my ear - and while i haven't delved further into her discography, i did love this 12-track, 10 minute album (not a typo!), which gives you the sense of someone spitballing an idea for a song just long enough to start it, then losing interest and moving on to the next one, but in a good way? idk it's fun and weird and only 10 minutes!

#media 2k24 #isabel 2k24

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octo-artist · 8 months

Note

Hi, Iove the way you write! Since requests are open, could I request a NSFW one, please? Where Leon and female reader lose their virginities to one another?

TW: Smut (fairly vanilla), Dick Piercing, AFAB reader, Character x reader, mentions of protection

This is my first time writing smut so I hope it did an ok job at it. Sorry this took so long it’s been absolutely insane over here between storms, outages, and preparing to go to school in a month~Jade

------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure, we don’t have to if you don’t think you’re ready yet”, Leon asks looking for any sign of apprehension or hesitance, he’s alwaysbeen so considerate and sweet like that.

“Leon I’m certain, I’ve thought it over plenty this last week and I think I’m ready this time.” You state, the topic at hand being that of taking things further with your boyfriend. The first time one of you suggested sex the session didn’t go much further than a more heated makeout session, which of course was still quite nice, you just got cold feet when Leon had gone to start pushing up your shirt. Leon being the gentleman he is stopped when you’d grabbed his hand and said you’d changed your mind and just wanted to cuddle instead.

The second time was an accident, you would’ve gone further had you and Leon not gotten a surprise visit from your mother and had to hurry to get your shirts back on so she wouldn’t know what was going on and further embarrass the two of you.

This time though you’d both made sure that there would be no interruptions and you had both talked it over the couple days leading up to make sure you were both still comfortable with the decision.

Leon upon getting confirmation from you, gently cupped the back of your neck, pulling you close to kiss you while he moved to lean you back and move over you, slotting himself between your legs. After a few minutes you reached up to comb your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to deepen the kiss. Slowly you feel his hand move from the mattress and trail from your thigh up your side, gently sliding beneath your shirt to move it up and over your head, briefly breaking the kiss before diving right back in for more. You eventually feel him reach back down to shift your hips up and start grinding against you pressing his hardening bulge up to your quickly heating core. You move one of your hands from his hair to trail down his chest to do away with his top like he had yours, after which you started trailing down towards his pants to slide them off. Leon pulled back for a bit to help shimmy off his pants and help you with yours, revealing a tent in his boxers and a wet stain on your own undies.

It was at this point you both took a second to breath and realize how far you’ve gotten. Leon situates himself back between your legs before touching his forehead to yours and asking with a heavy breath, ”Do you want to continue? We can stop if you want.”

Catching your own breath you reply, “Yes, I want to keep going”

“Alright then”, he sighs as he gently reaches into your panties and begins to caress your folds and clit, his hands coarse from training with his team. At the new sensation you let out a gasp as Leon's other hand reaches up behind your back to undo your bra which he then brushes off your chest to release your chest from its confines. Continuing to stroke your opening he uses his other hand to gently cup one of your breasts massaging it and further intensifying the already present sensations. Wishing for more you buck your hips a bit to try and get him to actually insert his fingers, and eventually he does after a bit starting with one as to not hurt you, adding another and plumbing them faster when you grind against his hand again. Eventually he gives into his own temptation taking the neglected breast into his mouth, sucking on it as he continues to massage the other. Soon enough you begin to feel a coiling sensation within your abdomen, gasps having turned to moans as you thread your fingers into Leon’s hair again

“I-I think I’m gonna-” you start as he rises up from your chest to capsure your lips once more tugging on them with his teeth. You feel the coil snap and soon after he draws his fingers out and looks at them curiously. Leon looks at his hand before tentatively taking a lick, his eyes widening as he cleans the rest of them off.

You whine trying to grind up against his cock which you can see is dripping with precum and a glint from the jacobs ladder that he’d gotten due to a dare.

“Hold on dear let me get this on”, Leon teases as he grabs a small packet from the bedside table, opening it and rolling the condom onto his member, “Now, I’m asking one more time, are you sure you’re ready?”

You look at him and nod to indicate that you wish to continue.

“Alright, just let me know if it's too much and I'll slow down”, he states, lining himself up. Slowly he pushes in groaning, the stretch made you moan as he filled you up, you feel the ridging from his piercings drag against your insides. After a few minutes he begins to move slowly at first panting, quickly he begins to pick up his pace as the sound of moaning and skin slapping fills the room.

It doesn’t take long for him to start getting close, not used to the feeling as his hips snap into yours. Reaching down he begins to play with your clit to bring you closer with him, he also takes one of your nipples into his mouth sucking on it. The combined sensations quickly bring you to the edge and with a loud groan and a scream you both come together.

Pulling out and discarding the used condom he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you close to him as the two of you drift off together with mumbled ‘I love you’s.

#pokemon x reader #reader insert #leon x reader #champion leon x reader #champion leon #Leon smut #pokemon leon #smut #pokemon smut #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #champion Leon smut #fem reader #tw smut

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starclast · 6 months

Text

NSR: SOUL EATER AU 🌜

Ever since I saw a Soul Eater AU fanart made by @Anger-ey...I couldn't stop thinking about it 😅 So I tried to come up with what would the NSR characters would be in such an AU!! (P.S: Its been a little while since I last saw Soul Eater, so if there's any mistake you find, please take that into account 🙏)

Mayday-weapon, freshmen at the academy. Since the very beginning gave her teachers and potential partners a headache, thankfully, now that is partnered with Zuke is not as dangerous...most of the time. Looks up to Kul Fyra and that's why she decided to enroll in Shibusen ever since she discovered her powers as a weapon. Decided by herself to partner up with Zuke ever since they first met and eventually, managed to convinced him. Though it may seem cliché, her weapon form is a bright red scythe.

Zuke-meister, on his last years at the academy. Sometimes his friends make fun of him for now having a younger partner. During his first year and a few more, he was partnered with EvE, but they fell apart after a certain *incident* while fighting a witch with fire powers. Spent a long while without partner until May came to his life like a storm. Since its known for being a very balanced and serene meister, sometimes teachers ask him to help in demonstration and classes for freshmen students; coincidentally, that's where he met May.

DJSS-weapon, and a very, very powerful one indeed. But much like Excalibur, he is just too picky and too much to handle for anyone. That's why doesn't have a partner at all. Teacher at Shibusen, but not really that excited about his job. his weapon form is a staff with a disk at the end which can control space.

Sayu-witch, and oddly enough, a friendly one. Lives in a small town cheering the villagers with her songs and taking care of a little group of orphans (a.k.a Sayu's team). Only wants to make people happy and spread love around the world; because of that, is really despised by the other witches. Mayday and Zuke try to hunt her but end up sparing her after noticing how important she is to the villagers. Fish motive witch and water powers, still pretty much like a mermaid.

DK West-weapon, to everyone's surprise. Is not affiliated with the Shibusen because he just wants to wander around the world freely, still, if they really need him, would gladly lend a hand. Though he is not really picky about his meister, his life style, carefree personality and flirty demeanor has made a lot of people deny a possible partnership. his weapon form is a shadow lantern which controls and attacks by shadow puppets.

Yinu-weapon/human hybrid. Still too young to be taken into missions but her potential has already been acknowledged by the academy. has regulars check ups about her condition and powers because her mother fears it may be too much for her, specially at such a young age.

Mama-weapon, but no longer on duty. During her young days was so powerful that many mistook her as a witch. her husband was her meister and the only partner she ever had. Currently a teacher at Shibusen while training and taking care of her only daughter. her weapon form are strings that can grow thorns and even control the nature around the battlefield. her powers where kind of unstable during her younger years, and that along with the false rumor that she was a witch made it really difficult to find a partner...until she met Papa, of course.

Neon J-meister (still a cyborg though). Teacher at Shibusen and one of the oldest members among them. has experienced the war against witches since practically the beginning. Lost his old partner and most of his body in a battle against a powerful witch. Made the 1010s as a project to be able to fight against witches even if the academy loses all their weapons/death scythes available.

1010-all weapons, all pistols of different powers. What not many know is that they are *artificial* weapons, created by none other than the well known Neon J. Very known and loved around the female population at the academy. Since they are all weapons under Neon J's command, they sometimes take the role of teachers aids and even act like a disciplinary committee to the students.

EvE-weapon, which has conflicted her ever since birth. Used to be Zuke's partner but due to certain *problems* between them and circumstances, they fell apart. Still a student, but over a higher rank than others since she is under the direct command of Tatiana. her weapon form is a mirror which alters the senses of the enemy and can create color living nightmares out of their minds.

Tatiana-weapon, Death Scythe to be more specific. Teacher of high rank at Shibusen. Devoted to justice and order at all cost since she lost her meister to the madness. Tries to maintain all about her past, old *name* and the identity of her last partner a secret, specially to the students. Mayday has given her quite the headaches since she came to the academy, even though these has lessened since she has partner up with Zuke...they have in fact not ended at all. her weapon form is a fire power spear pretty similar to clock hands.

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miracles-and-butterflies · 3 months

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What are the jobs/occupations in your mafia au?

Are the teens in training or are strictly not allowed to touch any weapons until their eighteen?

How protective are the adults over their children? Are they like regular parents/abuela/Tio or are they like "You bully my child? Do you want you AND your parents six feet deep? I/we can make it happen and no one would even look for you"

Are they rich per say? Do they have gifts?

How did the mafia start? Was Alma or Pedro already born in one or did it develop after Pedro's death?

How protective are the grandkids over each other? I honestly feel like everybody would be mad protective of Antonio since he's the youngest, and he's the most spoiled out of all of them. (But are the grandkids on some level spoiled as well?)

Do Mirabel and Camilo have some sort of a good relationship in this au?

How does everyone feel about blood shed? Do they feel queasy or will they not even bat an eye at it?

Sorry for all the questions, I just love Mafia au's.

Don’t apologise! I love getting questions for any of my AUs!

This will be a long one, so apologies if this isn’t out quickly.

Not too sure what you mean by jobs/occupations. Looking at other AUs there is no specific things and the only thing I could find on the internet was the hierarchy or roles in the party game. If you have anything to help with this, I’d greatly appreciate it!

As soon a Madrigal reached thirteen, they were allowed to begin training. Nobody is actually allowed to do anything in reality until they are eighteen though.

Depends on which of the adults you speak to. Alma was very protective when the triplets were little, once they were old enough to handle themselves, she stepped back a bit. That doesn’t mean she won’t defend them though. Pepa is definitely the most likely to bite your head off (metaphorically) if you even so much as look at her kids the wrong way. Julieta, Félix and Agustín are a lot more normal.

They weren’t rich initially. When Pedro died, Alma gained all of his family’s (who are also dead) inheritance and then became wealthy. She managed to keep a steady inflow of money, so they have remained quite comfortable over the years. Though they aren’t as rich as before, naturally having such a large family has its expenses and the economy is shit.

They do not have gifts. I felt it would make them too-overpowered; it would be too similar to every other Madrigal mafia AU; and I just made an AU where the gifted Madrigals become a crime family, I’m not repeating the same idea.

Pedro and Alma were both from crime families - granted, Alma’s was much more minor and they had practically stopped crime by the time she was an adult. However, growing up in that environment still influenced her and allowed her to meet Pedro. She brought a lot of influence and new ideals to Pedro, making her quite high-ranking in the order of command. Which is why, at his death, all his wealth and power fell to her over anyone else.

Influenced by their mother, Dolores and Camilo (especially Camilo) are very protective over Antonio. Luisa, as usual, is overprotective of Mirabel. The others are more normal.

Yes, Antonio is very spoiled as the youngest and one of two boys. Isabela, Dolores and Camilo were also very spoiled - though are a bit ignorant to the fact. Luisa and Mirabel, neither the eldest or male/only female in their side of the family, definitely fell under the radar a bit more in childhood; neither of them were spoiled.

Camilo and Mirabel have their usual rivalry. (It’s in their characters, I’m not changing it). They spend more time together here, if that’s what you’re asking.

Mirabel and Pepa are both squeamish. Pepa, who has adapted a little, usually carries a paper bag with her now. Mirabel, hasn’t really seen anything yet, but faints over a pinprick or paper cut. Needless to say, the family have doubts about how well she’s going to do in the future. The rest either don’t care about bloodshed or actually enjoy it.

If you have any more questions, please do not hesitate to ask!

#encanto #ask me anything #encanto mafia au #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #luisa madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustín madrigal #pepa madrigal #félix madrigal #alma madrigal #pedro madrigal

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suzannahnatters · 1 year

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Trope Talk #2: Breaking Their Heart To Save Them

OK let's talk about a trope I DON'T like.

As I've started watching a lot more Asian dramas this year, my patience with this trope - already occasionally featured in Western media - has approached rock bottom. You'll know this romance trope when you see it, usually around the start of the third act. The main couple will have overcome every obstacle - but suddenly everything will be too much. Some external factor is forcing them apart, and this time one of them becomes convinced the two of them should break up. But how to convince the other party of this?

Easy! Tell them a bunch of lies. Pretend you never even loved them in the first place. Break their heart because it's the best way to save them. Satine does it to Christian in MOULIN ROUGE. Both leads do it in LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL. Gorya does it to Thyme in F4 THAILAND. (That last one very nearly got me to ragequit with just two episodes left to go.)

So, let's discuss why this trope doesn't work for me, as well as some ways it might be justified, subverted, or deconstructed.

I think the main reason the trope doesn't work for me is that most of the time it feels quite cruel, especially when it acts as the third act breakup. Breaking someone's heart to save them is supposed to occur as a gesture of love and care for another person, but it's pretty messed-up to deliberately wound someone, someone you claim to care for. Let's look at two examples that didn't work for me.

CRASH LANDING ON YOU has a male lead who is always scolding the heroine for her decisions, especially when those decisions lead her to sacrifice herself for him. When she wakes up in hospital after taking a bullet for him, instead of saying thank you like a normal person, he scolds her to the point of tears. Because he's constantly treating her like a child and making decisions on her behalf, it makes perfect sense when he decides to break up with her by telling her he never loved her. The characterisation is consistent and believable; the problem is that this sort of character is a huge red flag, and the show never stops depicting the hero's paternalistic behaviour as a totally normal and romantic thing, actually! This is a great example for what this trope represents even at its most internally consistent - a character making a huge decision without their partner's input, taking away the say that should rightfully be theirs, and never being called to account for it.

Take F4: THAILAND as an example of this trope that doesn't make ANY sense at all. Our two leads kept me fully charmed throughout most of the show, but it all fell apart for me in the final three episodes. Gorya is a wonderful female lead whose strong sense of self-respect, dignity, and tenacity has driven her to challenge Thyme's bullying and inspire him to become a better person. These traits have empowered her to defy his mother's systematic destruction of her family's finances and those of everyone she loves. When Thyme's mother offers Gorya money to break up with Thyme, she scorns the offer. However, when Thyme's mother tells him that she is dying and that she needs to use what little time she has left to consolidate Thyme's leadership of the family empire, Gorya chooses to break Thyme's heart to ensure that he can become CEO after his mother's death. This is pitched as worthwhile because of the good things Thyme could do as a powerful capitalist who puts people, not money, first. Gorya knows that after everything she and Thyme have been through, he's absolutely devoted to her, and that hurting him badly enough to part the two of them will involve returning him to the old, villainous, bullying Thyme. Thyme's mother even encourages her to do just that - because it's only the villainous Thyme who CAN consolidate his control of the family empire. It made no sense to me that Gorya would fall in with this program. Why would this person hurt someone she loves, bringing back the villain she reformed, so that he can keep control of the riches she spurned? I didn't believe it for a moment. It felt like gratuitous cruelty, totally out of character, and militated against the story's themes.

I always find myself asking the same questions when I see this trope: why couldn't the characters have an honest conversation about this? Why couldn't they face this challenge together? Why wouldn't they do literally everything within their power to avoid systematically destroying their loved one's self esteem? Taking a relationship out the back and shooting it just seems like an incredibly disproportionate response to 99% of the scenarios that give rise to this trope.

Still, like all tropes that are used poorly, this one can be deconstructed, played with, or even justified. Let's look at some examples of this trope that work a little better than most.

Look for ways to soften the trope

The more love and trust there is between the characters, the less credible it is that one of them would choose to withold information from the other, lie to them, and break their heart. In the YA space opera romance THESE BROKEN STARS, at their very first interaction the female lead mocks and antagonises the male lead specifically because young men who show romantic interest in her tend to meet with unfortunate "accidents" and she wants to spare him that fate. Since the two of them are strangers, there's less trust to be broken, and by the same token, it takes the female lead less effort (and cruelty) to destroy his interest in her.

Similarly, think about the somewhat similar situation in PRIDE & PREJUDICE where a third party, Mr Darcy, breaks up Mr Bingley and Jane Bennet because he thinks it would be better for Bingley not to ally himself with the embarrassing Bennet family. This is not an example of this trope, but it's a very similar one - two people in love are cruelly broken up because somebody decided they knew best. While Elizabeth at first believes Mr Darcy's actions to be unforgiveable, she quickly learns of an extenuating circumstance: Mr Darcy had no idea that Jane was seriously attached to Mr Bingley and would not have done what he did if he had known.

2. Make sure there are realistic consequences

I don't think it's IMPOSSIBLE for a couple to end up together after a use of this trope, but as in PRIDE & PREJUDICE, in addition to extenuating circumstances, there would ideally be a whole character arc in which the person at fault proves that they are going to stop trying to make decisions for their partner.

I also loved the deconstruction of the trope in ANOTHER MISS OH. In this show the heroine's fiancé, facing financial ruin and prison, tells her just days before their wedding that he doesn't love her anymore and is disgusted by the way she eats. When he gets out of prison early, he's extremely miffed to find that his ex is now dating the very bloke responsible for him being in jail in the first place. He tells the female lead that he just wanted to spare her the pain and disgrace of his prison sentence, and she very properly calls him out on it. He intentionally humiliated her and left her with lasting wounds and insecurities, and although her new boyfriend isn't perfect either, at least he never did THAT to her.

Although this is a deconstruction I think we can still learn from it. After all, this trope is always depicted as a mistake on somebody's part; the important thing is to make the consequences believable.

3. Make sure it's believable for the characters to act in this way

When this trope is played straight, as a major third act breakup between avowed lovers, I almost never find it truly believable. But the story that comes closest is MOULIN ROUGE. Our heroine Satine has always seen herself as the older, worldly wise, cynical one in the relationship. She doesn't believe in the power of love the way her love interest, Christian, does. And she's spent her whole life prioritising money and survival. So, when Satine finds out that her would-be lover, a powerful duke, wants Christian dead, it's credible that THIS sort of person would decide to break up with Christian and tell him she's choosing the Duke and financial security over love.

There are also additional reasons why this works, and all of them are deeply rooted in characterisation.

For one thing, this isn't Satine's first choice. She originally plans to run away with Christian. It's only once she learns that she's dying of consumption that she decides to break up with him instead. We SEE that Satine would rather fight for her love - and we understand why she comes to despair of it.

For another, staying true to Christian won't save him heartbreak because he's going to lose her anyway. On the other hand, if she breaks Christian's heart, she will save him from the Duke and also give the Moulin Rouge's prostitutes a chance at becoming actresses and real artists. We can understand that the price of putting love first is so high, with such little return, that Satine would choose to act this way.

Finally, because Satine's character has already been established as so mercenary, she doesn't actually NEED to work hard to convince Christian that she has chosen the Duke. In fact, one of the things that sets MOULIN ROUGE apart from other examples of this trope is that, from memory, Satine doesn't even lie to Christian. She doesn't try to convince him that their love has been a complete sham - she just informs him that she's decided to give the Duke what he wants. Christian believes it because it's exactly the sort of thing the Satine he first met would have done.

Compare this to the example in F4: THAILAND. In that show, breaking up with Thyme doesn't fit with Gorya's character. She doesn't try to find any alternatives. Thyme finds it so hard to believe her when she says she wants to break up with him, that she has to seriously hurt him in order to make him believe it. And as a member of the audience I wanted to know why exactly it would be so terrible - in a show that is explicitly about the evils of wealth - for Thyme to abandon his family empire.

4. Connect it directly with the themes

The cdrama LOVE BETWEEN FAIRY AND DEVIL contains a rendition of this trope that actually works WITH, rather than against, the themes of the story. LBFAD avoids the often sexist and paternalistic overtones of this trope by having both leads at different times break each other's hearts to save them. Best of all, it uses the trope as an expression of the main thematic conflict of the story. This campy fantasy romance dares to ask whether the greater good is more important than personal love and happiness. When each lead character chooses to break the heart of the other, they do so implicitly because they have bought into the lie that they must set aside personal love for the greater good. Their whole character arc and happy ending hinges upon their ability to see that the only way to sacrifice for the greater good, is to learn love and compassion on a personal level. As such, even though it still stretched credibility that two such devoted leads would treat each other so badly, the story used the trope wisely, not to manufacture melodrama but to discuss its central themes.

5. BONUS: Restore agency to the dumped party One of the annoying things about this trope is specifically that it involves one character choosing to deprive the other of agency in their own romance. So, one of the most fun ways to play this trope is by restoring agency to the dumpee.

This happens in the cdrama TILL THE END OF THE MOON. At first, the way this trope was played in this story really annoyed me. The God of War, Ming Ye, has unexpectedly fallen in love with his at-first unwanted bride, Sang Jiu. Now, however, he's about to go off and fight a battle in which he expects to give his life. Rather than let Sang Jiu know about this, he hands her a bill of divorce and tells her he never had any feelings for her. Sang Jiu has been in love with him from the shell, and this breaks her heart. It seemed completely gratuitous to me - why would Ming Ye divorce someone he's about to widow in any case? If he wants to send her to safety, why can't he just ask her to go home for a visit to her beloved family until the danger blows over? However, I was FASCINATED by Sang Jiu's response to this ultimatum: she puts on her wedding dress, marches into Ming Ye's room, and demands her conjugal rights before she leaves. Although there were definitely things about this scene which I, ah, found problematic and would have done differently, it was a terrific thing to see the female lead seize back agency in this situation. I also appreciated how it foreshadowed later problems in the subplot, in which the male lead's inability to communicate and the female lead's tendency to take things into her own hands dooms them both.

Similarly, in one of my books, a character is forced to break up with another in public, which she does, very coldly. But he takes the first opportunity to get her alone, throw himself at her feet and swear that even if she doesn't want to be his partner anymore, she will still have his undying devotion and lifelong service. It was huge fun to defy the common expectations of the trope in this way!

In summary, I do think that this trope can work, but it does need to be fully supported by the story. It should not be overdone; there must be consequences; it must be in character; there must be high enough stakes to make the pain inflicted seem worthwhile; and it must be in keeping with the themes rather than militating against them.

#trope talk #writing advice #writing #romance tropes #lbfad #tteotm #f4 thailand #love between fairy and devil #till the end of the moon #moulin rouge #pride and prejudice #crash landing on you #cloy #another miss oh

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