#about them pushing it down until not only do they have to recognize this fact

[deepsix-writing]

coming to terms with godhood.

(a jack nichols aka ‘eyeless jack’ story)

the birth of a god is a painful thing. it feels like dying, more than anything. you’d think, after people having worshipped deities for so long, they’d warn you about how excruciating it is to become one. but they don’t.

that was something jack nichols had learned through firsthand experience. recently, in fact. but the worst thing, for him, wasn’t learning to readjust; it felt like all of his senses had been fundamentally rearranged, but that wasn’t what bothered him most. what bothered him most was the trail of bodies it left in his wake.

“burn in hell. ALL of you.” he remembered the words birthing into the open air, but not saying them himself. but he did remember pulling the mask over his face, and he did remember leaving a bloody jenny to die in the forest alone. he remembered kicking away her pleading hands as they pawed at his ankle, her last chance of making contact with her reborn god. only it didn’t feel like jack’s voice, coming out of him. it came from some place far deeper than his chest, and it gushed from his lips like the tar that leaked from his eyes. when he finally scrambled back to civilization, hastily stuffing himself into the nearest gas station bathroom to avoid prying eyes, he puked his guts out. it was an ultimately futile attempt to get that noxious tar out of his body.

it was poisoning him, he was certain. it felt like it coated every inch of his insides, holding back the air in his lungs and turning the food in his stomach to bile. he didn’t want to look in the mirror. he didn’t want to see the state of himself, what those people had done to him, but he needed to know.

he wished he hadn’t looked. because when he did, he didn't recognize what he saw.

beneath the mask, crusted with black tar, festered two black pits where his eyes once were. he was mesmerized by the fact he wasn’t doubled over with the pain of it all. thinking about it, he was just as mesmerized by something else, too.

how am i able to see right now?

it was something that hadn’t even occurred to him until now.

sight of chernobog, some rogue thought interjected. then, it came back to him. that was what the cultists had said when they gouged out his eyes and replaced them with…

i should not be as calm as i am, reflecting on this.

jack never had been the emotional type, but this was really pushing it. it was like that tar that covered his insides had dampened his emotions, too.

...or maybe he was just denying himself the time to truly reflect on it. a part of him felt if he did that, he might never get back on his feet again. he’d curl up in a ball and crystalize, and years down the line he’d be nothing but dust.

jack didn’t want that. it was like the mountain climbers he’d read about in one of his medical textbooks. he just needed to learn to acclimate to the change in altitude. this could be okay.

how to acclimate, however… that was a tough one. he couldn’t do it around people though, he knew that much. he needed to be somewhere isolated, somewhere he could collect his thoughts and keep anyone else from getting—

go back to the college, his thoughts interjected again. you don’t know what its like to be truly alone. you don’t want that.

jack blinked, but shrugged it off. in the gas station bathroom’s sink he washed his hair, matted with blood, and made certain to wash off any blood that pooled on the porcelain when he was done. he took the mask, cast aside amidst his previous puking session, and slipped it back on. he slipped the hood of his jacket up over it to hide his wet hair, too, and took one final look in the mirror.

it was months from Halloween. there was no way anyone was going to look at him and think ‘yep, that’s normal’. in fact, jack was pretty sure he’d already gotten a horrified look from a lady filling up her tank before he’d darted into the bathroom.

his only hope was going to be finding somewhere secluded to figure all of this out. maybe, when all was said and done with, he could make up the assignments for the last of his classes online. he was pretty sure west point had a program for that.

his uncle had a cabin in some backwoods area nearby, he knew. jack remembered when he was a kid, him, his parents, and his cousins would all stay there during the holidays. his uncle had a different house he lived in, too, so chances were, the place was empty.

and, it was only a few dozen miles north, if he remembered correctly. he was on the track team back in high-school. it wouldn't be easy, but it would be managable.

it was the best shot he had at figuring this all out.

it would have to work.

whatever it was that had happened with the cult, whatever it was that they did to jack, it would all be a distant memory in a few years. it wouldn’t get in the way of his medical degree, and it sure as hell wouldn’t get in the way of his life.

right?

#writers on tumblr #creepypasta #crp #creepypasta fandom #eyeless jack #jack nyras #jack nichols #not really proofread #i wrote this for fun #not planning to take it anywhere unless people really like it

[primussavethesemechs]

I’m back with more slightly disturbing thoughts about transformers.

Ok listen.

I think cybertronians should be more freaked out by the fact humans eat other living things.

Like come on, bots only ingest energon which is inanimate crystal juice, they’re regularly grossed out by normal organic functions, and you’re telling me they don’t bat at eye at the idea of their friendly little Sentient companions straight up killing other animals and eating them??? I feel like that should def cause more cognitive dissonance for them, esp autobots since they actually get close to humans.

Like I can see them being grossed out but accepting of the fact that wild animals eat each other- they are WILD animals and all, not exactly sentient or even necessarily intelligent after all. But HUMANS? The organic creatures that are the closest to them (going by tfp standards where they don’t mention many other organic species) in terms of structure and emotion and intelligence?? That has to be concerning on some level to them.

Referencing tfp and MTMTE where they have scraplets and sparkeaters, i feel like that’s what they’d kind of associate it with which would freak them out more. God forbid they hear about how common cannibalism is in survival situations, I don’t even know if they’d be able to sympathize the slightest bit with that considering as far as I know cannibalism Isn’t Really A Thing for them. That’s a thought in of itself tbh, would they be able to reckon with the concept of being so hungry you’d eat people you know, when it’s physically impossible for them to do that? How do you rationalize the choices others make in desperate situations when you know you’d never have to make that choice anyway and you’ll never have their perspective on it?

Anyways, I’m entertained by the idea of them being able to ignore stuff like nuggets or patties considering it doesn’t look recognizable as what it is but being downright repulsed by steaks, especially if its bloody or has bone visible. They don’t like the visual reminders of their sweet little organic friends consuming flesh and blood. Too freaky for them.

#transformers #tfp #mtmte #transformers prime #maccadam #love those things about transformers finding little details about humans to be unsettling #their teeth being flat and boxy #vs some of ours being sharper #made for tearing flesh #they think it’s hilarious seeing a human tear at a Turkey leg like a dog #until they remember that it’s a Turkey’s Leg. like an actual animals dismembered leg #it’s cooked but the realization that they’re gnawing on skin and flesh and bone #all of which humans have #is very sobering #and kind of creepy #actually very creepy #and the more they think about it the worse it gets #I desperately want to wind this into a humanformers post #about them pushing it down until not only do they have to recognize this fact #but they have to go through with it too #😁 fun times for all

[cheshirebitch]

Alastor x Reader

𝔸𝕞 𝕀 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥? pt 2

( part 1 here ) ( part 3 here )

 Husk was the first to notice me, since we both thought I was going to die. 

“Oh (Y/n) you son of a bitch!” Angel grabbed me tightly into a hug, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Charlie ran up with Vaggie tailing her.

“How did you do it?” Vaggie and Charlie asked at the same time. Husk looked over and barked out, “How did she do what? Because she saved him and she also somehow saved herself from Boss Man’s wrath.” He took a swig of his drink, eyeing me suspiciously. I knew he was going to pamper me with a million questions later. 

“Well, I just offered Vox information that sounded valuable in a state of dire quick thinking. Sure, he can be smart, but not on the spot. It was simply a trick play of environment and temptation.” After all, isn’t that what I’m good at? 

“What was the info you gave?” Curiosity got the best of Angel. I smiled before pressing a finger to my lips.

“Can’t spill. Even if I wanted to.” A red magic spread across my face where it looked like my mouth was sewed shut. Angel recognized it from when he saw my chains appear before. 

“Oh doll…” Pity. A look of pity is all I received and it made my chest tighten. My eyes scanned quickly over everyone. Everyone had the look of pity. I wiped the magic off before laughing dryly. “I have my ways around it obviously.” I waved them off. I don’t need their pity. I chose this. I just regret it lately. Alastor wasn’t always this closed off, at least not to me. We used to share almost everything. It was us against the world until he left me alone in it, twice.

“So, I take it we pissed off the Vee’s?” Vaggie stated as she looked at me and Charlie. She was holding up her phone that had Velvette’s recent social media post explicitly saying that Hell was about to freeze over.

“Well, it did give us the chance to actually redeem Angel Dust.” 

“Everything comes with a price though, Charlie.” I alluded to what was to come. The battles I can see happening here in the future are enough to worry me on what’s to come. The future is so unsettled on what can happen right now that I can only see small things and not the big picture. I felt a tightness in my chest again. 

“Stand straight darling.” Alastor smoothly spoke behind me as he pushed his hand against the small of my back and drifted up to make my spine straighten. I hate how he only gets on my case about that when Husk literally has a hunch back at this point. Deep breaths (Y/n). Deep breaths.

“Thanks sir.” I said through gritted teeth. Alastor flinched slightly at how I called him sir and how tightly I said it. He looked at me as if asking with his eyes, What is your problem? I couldn’t help but shift my jaw tighter. I squinted my eyes, You’re the problem dick. He clenched his jaw as well and pressed his hand harder into the small of my back, any harder and he would be pushing me. Somehow though, I noticed how his presence made the tightness in my chest go away. Despite the fact we were arguing through our eyes. Charlie turned towards Alastor, dragging our conversation to a quick halt. 

“What should we do in preparation?” She was mostly looking at me and not Alastor which made my once annoyed face into a smug one. They are looking towards me for leadership now. I warned you Al, don’t play with fire. After all, you are the reason I’m down in this mess anyway.

“We need to cover all our bases and make it seem like we aren’t even worried about whatever they are doing, and continue business as normal. Alastor and I will cover the rest. Just watch each other and don’t leave without a partner for a little while.” He seemed to relish in the fact I still sounded like I needed him. I can’t help but feel like he loves that feeling, even if he left me and still won’t tell me anything anymore. 

After spilling plans with Charlie and the team on what our next moves should be, I dismissed myself towards a separate room. I know he can feel the slight anger during our whole interaction because he swiftly follows me. 

“Yes, Alastor?” He smiled wider with his stupid half lidded eyes. But my god do I always melt- stop it. You’re mad, remember? How could he keep playing with your feelings? It's like these seven years took everything we built between each other and ripped it to shreds as if we were never anything. Were we though? 

“Inner battles dear?” I wish he would let that cheesy smile slip once or at least make it look sincere again. 

“You tell me. You’re the one who kicked me out of my own room.” He hummed playfully as I scrunched my face in anger.

“Well, since you’re my pet, it’s also my room.” That cocky motherf-

“We need to talk, Alastor. I want to begin the negotiation of my contract coming up soon.” A slip, his eyes screamed worry but then it was gone. Bingo.

“Renewing it again? We both know you will.” My smile matched his which unnerved him slightly.

“Remind me why again. If I remember correctly, you abandoned me for seven years, won’t talk to me anymore, and have been acting weird lately. You aren’t the Alastor I signed my soul away to.” I seethed. He was holding his jaw so tight I thought he was about to crack his teeth. I leaned closer, almost on my tippy toes to get in his face, his head looked down at me. I saw a glimpse of those eyes he used to give me. The eyes he would stare at me with while I listened to him talk for hours. Then they were replaced with a slight hurt. He opened his mouth, his smile quivering as he thought of the right words.

“There you are! Nifty got stuck in the toilet again, can you help us get her out?” Charlie spoke loudly. Everything I was about to get, all the answers, just…

…gone.

The feeling of overwhelming… EVERYTHING. I wanted to yell at Charlie. 

Why can’t you just wait? Fuck Charlie, you just ruined everything.

Alastor quickly fixed all the vulnerabilities he had and proclaimed, “Well of course! What type of help would I be around here if I didn’t?” I watched him walk away with Charlie, a hurt look that he caught when he glanced back. 

His smile faltered quick enough for me to see it. His eyes glanced at Charlie as if trying to tell me something before he fixed his behavior and carried on as normal with her when she looked back at him. They swiftly walked out as I was left in the entertainment room. 

Alastor, what did you do?

Husk was at the bar cleaning glasses from Angel and Cherri Bomb’s celebration. Swirling around my drink, wishing I didn’t drink as much as I did. I will hand it to Angel and Cherri for having such a persuasive way with drinking. My hair was slightly messy, my normal pantsuit switched out to my comfy clothes, and my eyes looked tired. 

“You finally going to admit you had too much yet?” Husk chuckled out. I chuckled back before I sipped the rest of my drink down quickly. The glass hitting the counter answered Husk instead, and the sound of it sliding down to him as I smiled at him.

“Nope.” I taunted back. He shook his head, pouring more into my cup, and gently sat in front of me. I stared at it for a little while before Husk sighed and piped up, “Penny for your thoughts?” He knew I loved it when he said the sayings I normally do. Made me feel like we really are real friends, despite the situation we are both in. 

“Well, I think I have a theory on what has Alastor… different.” I was careful with my choice of words as Husk eyed me. He knew I was never going to let this new Alastor last long. I mean Husk even was starting to get treated more like a dog rather than someone who helps Alastor with a slight rough friendship. Hard to believe we were all friends once. 

“Continue?” Husk poured himself a matching drink as he watched me intensely. This isn’t something I would bring out loud unless I had some sort of evidence pointing towards it. I shuffled my hands around before stealing a quick sip of my drink.

“I think Alastor made a deal he regrets but can’t talk about.” 

(Part 3...?)

(Lore buildingggg I promise next update will have one question answered. Can you guess which one? As always all characters and world belongs to the respected owners <3 story belongs to me. Tagged who I could! Thank you for loving the first one!)

(Should I add the songs that inspire the writing?)

TAG LIST: @immortal-ries @kat-nee @shybananabagellover @tiedyedghoulette @alyslovesflowers @seven709 @vixie--21 @montis-posts @trashbin-nie @sh3sa1dwhat @for-hearthand-home @funtimefreddynaofficial @jyoongim @eviebuggg

#hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #radio demon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[hiraya-rawr]

"hands off! I'm taken!" — diluc .

synopsis !! you pick up your drunk lover from the tavern

note !! I finally posted something! my schedule is still full but things should settle down more by september :> enjoy this fun fic!

contains !! gn reader, ft. kaeya and others! alcohol consumption, not proofread

Your lover rarely drinks. Scratch that, he doesn't drink at all if he could help it.

So whatever encouraged him to drink tonight of all nights was beyond you. It wasn't his shift in the bar, yet he insisted you shouldn't wait for him as he might come home late from the tavern. Apparently, he'll be meeting up with Kaeya, Jean, and a few others.

You're overjoyed, of course! It's not everyday your overworking lover decides to take a break and meet up with his old friends, much less those who are involved with the knights. You practically pushed him on his way to socialize and have fun.

Perhaps he had too much fun.

It was past midnight when you stopped by the tavern, seeing as you lived nearby anyway.

Diluc sat amongst a small crowd. You recognize them to be Kaeya, Jean, Lisa, Venti, and Rosaria, each nursing their own drink in their hands. What surprised you was that Diluc had a glass of his own— emptied, and that Kaeya was pouring him another round.

"Ah, it seems like your ticket home has arrived, D," Kaeya muses upon spotting you. The redhead only huffs in reply.

"What a joyous occasion! Come join us, (Name)!" Venti cheers, swinging around his large mug.

It's only when you approached the group did you notice your lover's unfocused eyes, glazed over as he blinks away at nothing.

"What did you do?" You raise an eyebrow, eyes narrowing suspiciously at Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain raises his hands in defense.

"You're accusing me? I'm hurt," He chuckles, "You and I both know he isn't so easy to trick into drinking."

You glance over at Jean, who gives you a sympathetic laugh, "It's true. Surprisingly, sir decided to drink tonight. It wasn't that much, I assure you."

"Wasn't that much, she says, yet he looks just about ready to pass out," Rosaria mutters, sipping on her own glass. You let out a sigh, seems like you'll be responsible for taking him home tonight. You're not bothered at all, in fact, you're a little glad he decided to let loose and have fun, no matter how unusual it seems.

If anything, it's a little funny to see him look gruff and cold, he doesn't even seem drunk until you notice the flush on his face and the spin in his eyes. Grabbing an empty glass and filling it with water from a pitcher, you gesture for the redhead to drink.

"Come on, 'Luc, drink some water and let's get you home."

He turns his head away to the side. You raise an eyebrow.

"'Luc, drink some water."

"No."

". . . You need to sober up–"

"No."

His head arcs further away from you, arms crossed. You glance at his face, is he. . . is he seriously pouting right now? Kaeya chuckles next to you. You aren't sure what kind of drunk shenanigan is going through his mind, but you decided to let it slide, opting to bring him home instead.

"Alright then, let's get out of here instead." With a hand on his shoulder, you gesture for him to stand but he wacks it away. Diluc? Your Diluc?? Wacked your hand away???

You blink at him before recovering to grab onto his arm, trying to pull him up, "Come on, 'Luc! We got to get you home!"

"No! Hands off!" He sluggishly pushes you, failing but he plops back onto his seat.

"What?"

"Hands off me! I'm taken!"

You freeze. The little group around you pauses as well. There's a loud snort in the air, presumably from Venti.

"Diluc, what?" You bite back your laugh. Laughing at the drunk is bad etiquette, you really shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't.

"I'm–" He slurs, facing you with a pointed look and a loopy glare, "Taken. Go find someone else to mooch."

Archons, help you not to burst out laughing in this situation.

Opting to giggle behind closed lips, you squat next to his chair, reaching out to cup his cheek but he scoots away from your touch.

"Diluc," You laugh, "It's me."

"Not- not interested."

"I'm literally your lover."

He blinks at you. You aren't sure if you got through him but he immediately stands upright, wobbling from the action. You catch him by the waist for support.

"Woah there, are you ready to go?"

"I'm going-" He tests his steps, "Going home to my darling, (Name)." With shaky hands, he pushes you aside, "I told you I have a lover!"

A loud laugh starts from behind you. Kaeya hunches over the table, gripping his stomach as the rest try to hide their chuckles behind their hands.

"Oh dear, my dear brother," The cryo user stands, wiping a tear from his eye, "Seems like you truly had too much tonight. This person here is assigned to take you to (Name)." The sly smile on Kaeya's face tells you to play along.

Diluc rubs at his eyes, everything seems to swirl, "Really?"

"Yes."

". . . Alright then."

Was he really that easy to trick? Your jaw could've dropped open. As expected of Kaeya who naturally dealt with all of Diluc's drunk shenanigans.

"Let's go then. . ." Diluc mumbles, glancing at you, "But no touching."

At his first step, he nearly trips over his feet if it wasn't for you grabbing onto his arm. You wrap it over your shoulder, pulling him upright.

"Surely, it's alright if I hold onto your arm?" You try to reason.

". . . Okay."

With a side glance at Kaeya and the rest, you nod them goodbye as they wave their pleasantries. Now that you're outside the tavern, you decide to take your drunk lover to your home nearby, a place he's frequently visited.

"Honestly, whatever made you drink so much tonight. . ." You huff, grabbing onto him and trying to get him to walk normally.

"My lover, you see. . ." He trails off.

"What about your lover?" You can't help but prod. Surely, you haven't done something wrong, right?

"Everything. . . Everything about them." Diluc mumbles, a sigh escaping him, "Just— amazing."

You can't help the way your lips sorts into a smile.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"That must be nice. Is that why you don't want to go home with me?" You can't help but tease as he glowers, turning his face to get a better look at you. You notice the way his eyes look clearer now.

". . . As mentioned, I–" A groan, "Am devoted to my lover, no matter how charming you look."

"Mhmm, sure, yeah." You laugh, taking in his compliment, "You're devoted, alright."

"It's true–" He pushes away from you to fumble with his coat in an enthusiasm that's only seen when he's drunk, "Would you like to see the ring?"

Ring? What ring? You freeze in your steps as he digs into his pockets, pulling out an enclosed little box with intricate carvings. He opens it to reveal a ring– one you've only ever dreams of having (and receiving from him). The details, a testament to how much he knows what you like, while mixing in his own interests.

Your heart skips a beat.

"'Luc–"

"Archons, I'm nervous," He groans into his hand, carefully closing the box despite his drunken mannerisms, "I can't even– can't even sleep at night thinking about it."

You're still in shock as you gaze up at him. Sure, you've talked about a future together, but it always felt so far away— Diluc was too busy, always with something else to prioritize and it didn't seem like the right time for him no matter how right it was for you.

"Is. . . Is that why you drank?"

He looks at you with a raised brow, "Nervousness is one thing. I needed everyone's advice as well." Your heart flutters, was he ever this thoughtful? The answer is yes. You reach out to him again, hands as shaky as his own, but yours shook in happiness.

"Diluc, I—"

He lurches, a heaving sound down his throat as if threatening to puke. You reach out, holding onto him again with a small laugh, "Alright, alright, let's get you home first, Luc."

He groans in reply, voice wobbly and weak, "I'm. . . taken. . . "

"I know, my love."

•

Sunshine filters into the bedroom and Diluc shuffles under the covers. His head was throbbing, his throat felt dry, he's reminded again why he never drinks.

Grape juice is definitely better. Grape juice is yummy. Why can't he make a grape juice relaxant? He sure as heck can, what's his money for if he can't fund an entire academic foundation focusing on the production of anxiety-calming juice?

Before he could even begin to think about the business prospects and expenses to spare, your footsteps catches his attention as you enter the room.

"Slept well?"

He brushes his hair back, sitting up groggily, "I've had better nights."

"Here, have some water." You gesture to the cup in your hands to which he drinks from obediently.

"Thank you."

"I'm just glad that you're allowing me to offer you water." You bite back a chuckle.

"What?"

Standing up with a hum and a shrug, you turn away from him, "I don't know. Last night, you wouldn't even let me touch you."

His eyebrows furrow together, "That's ridiculous. Why would I do that?"

"Apparently, you have a lover, and I was trying to tempt you away into my home~"

Diluc freezes like a deer in the headlights, heat rushing up his face, turning it a shade as red as his hair, "I. . . said that?"

You laugh, turning towards him as you begin to explain everything that happened in the tavern and how his friends reacted. This only helped to worsen his embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill Kaeya. . ." he mutters under his breath, hiding away his face before peeking at you, "And then I suppose you walked me home? Did I. . . say anything after?"

You spotted the way his eyes glance to his coat, hanging by the door. Your lips twitch into a smile.

"Nope. You were quiet the whole way home."

You can't wait to embarrass him even more after his proposal.

masterlist 02 || commissions via ko-fi

note !! writing this made me all the drunk embarrassing moments 😭

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @stygianoir14

#diluc #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #genshin #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya #genshin kaeya #ragbros #jean gunnhildr #genshin jean #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin rosaria #rosaria #venti #genshin venti #diluc fluff #genshin fluff #genshin fic #genshin imagines

[uplatterme]

false god

—sub!dainsleif/dom!amab!reader, priest!reader | reader is called ‘father’, throatfucking, cockstepping, first half is plot and then the other is filth.

—and after posting about writing for dain since january, i actually finally finished one for him!

This isn’t the first time that such a thing had happened to the Bough Keeper.

Such a thing was, accidentally teleporting himself to a place he didn’t mean to, partly due to exhaustion and sleepless nights.

It was often like these that the immortality cast upon him mocked him more than anything. 

Droplets of water started to fall onto his hair, then eventually onto his body. He stares into the dark sky, the coldness of the rain bringing more comfort than it does harm.

Dainsleif sighs, and instead of teleporting away to his right destination, he starts to walk and explore this newfound place.

There isn’t much to say about where he’s landed himself, and frankly, he’s thankful for that. Silence is a gift for him nowadays and even when he’s isolated, it’s rare that he isn’t plagued by awful memories that keep him from just closing his eyes for longer than a few minutes.

His slow steps are halted though, when he sees that he has brought himself in front of a very peculiar building. The rain continues to soak his body as the man stares at the white architecture and the statue that is displayed in front.

He chuckles. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. His luck had never been the one to land on his side, he didn’t know why he expected otherwise.

It’s quite big for a chapel, especially since he doesn’t recognize the figure in front. Still, it’s one of a god’s, nonetheless. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised considering the lengths that devotees had gone to.

His curiosity gets the best of him when he goes nearer the said building, wanting to examine the sculpture. However, before he could even get a closer look, the wooden entrance opens.

The Khaenri'ahn’s first instinct is to transport himself away but finds that to be useless as he meets the eyes of another. What he didn’t expect next, is genuine worry.

“My goodness! Are you alright?” 

He almost gets confused as to why one would react in such horror. He doesn’t have any blood on him, does he?

Dainsleif looks down, not wanting to traumatize a random stranger…and discovers that there’s nothing wrong with him?

He lifts his head back up, only to find you nowhere near the doors of the chapel. He wonders where you are for a quick second until he feels something warm covering his body.

“I hope my robe will make do…Come on, get inside. You must be cold.” His reluctance is evident in his face but before he can even say anything, he’s pushed inside the chapel, much to his distaste.

Him stepping inside such a place was too much for him already that he forgot the fact that he’s wearing a robe, one that he assumed was no ordinary one.

Dainleif wants to take it off and so he tries to, at least.

“Keep it. I apologize I don’t have any spare clothes at the moment.”

He really does not want to wear a priest’s robe. 

“Did you come here for the mass? I’m afraid it ended an hour ago…Ah, but you can still stay until the rain stops.” You offer generously.

“No. I just happened to be passing by.” He explains.

He watches as your mouth gapes, looking for the words to say after you’ve just brought him in here out of his will.

“That makes sense…I was wondering why I haven’t seen you before. Not that it matters, you can still stay. The Chapel of our God is glad to help any troubled souls.”

He takes offense at that. 

“Troubled, you say? That’s quite a big assumption of a man you’ve just met.” His tone is as monotone as ever, yet that doesn’t hide the disdainful look that lingers in his bright eyes.

You muse.

“Ah yes, a non-troubled person that enjoys looking gloomy and letting the rain pour all over them.”

Dainsleif bites his tongue at that.

“I’ll show you around.”

While it does interest him that this chapel worships a god that isn’t of the seven, that doesn’t mean that he wants to learn more about a dead god who was defeated in the archon war just like the others. Although he presumes that the way you tell of their tales makes it somewhat bearable.

Even if it’s not what he expected.

It’s not as overwhelming as he had thought, but perhaps that was due to the lack of nuns he usually sees when it comes to churches.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask fondly, stopping your rambling about your said god just to listen to him.

“Does this place have many attendees?”

“Not quite…but it’s a lot if you consider they’re followers of a God who isn’t one of the seven.”

Frankly, Dainsleif doesn’t get it. It’s not as if all these masses you lead would ever lead to something else. It’s just wasted hard work, if he’s to be brutally honest.

He can tell that there’s a lot of admiration and work you have put into this, but for what reason? What reason is there to keep spreading the word of someone you haven’t even personally met?

Would your faith waiver if knowledge of your god performing deemed evil acts is brought upon you?

“Should we continue the tour?” You ask.

He politely shakes his head, thoughts still lingering in his head.

“We must adhere to these values that our God has specified in their writings…that our way of living as a mortal is something that should be celebrated and not frowned upon…”

The non-believer sits at the last row of the chapel, somewhat half-heartedly listening to your words as you read passages from a book in your hands.

He only watches, observing the entire view in front of him. How people reply in unison whenever you say a certain phrase, an exchange that he finds to be quite strange. 

The mass isn’t that long, yet you still manage to lead that hour with grace, making sure that every part of it goes well without any fault.

How you stand to the side, leaning on the podium with a smile as everyone sings along with the choir.

Dainsleif’s eyes meet yours and he sees you mouth a greeting to him.

…He supposed that he can stay for a minute when everyone has gone.

He sees you grin as you start walking towards him, your robe neat and tidy as ever.

Surprisingly, he speaks first.

“I’m surprised you still have a recollection of me.”

“It’s only been a few months.” You reply, your voice soft and soothing, unlike the way you spoke as you preached earlier.

Most people would choose to forget. “You’re different in person than you are earlier.”

“Perhaps.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence in the chapel, the mosaic windows dim the bright sunlight from the outside but that only results in the colored glass reflecting stunningly on your face.

He takes the initiative and speaks again.

“Is it because I’m not a follower?”

Your breathing catches on his ear. “Maybe.”

He wonders if you know of his lineage and if that’s the reason why you had kept an eye out for him, suspicions rousing through your brain.

“Father.” The change of tone to formality shocks you a little that you were forced to question why he’s suddenly calling you that.

Your awkward chuckle echoes through the building. “What are you calling me that for?”

“Just seeing if your attitude would change. If you’re truly as honest as you present yourself to be.”

You click your tongue. “Is there a reason you came here?”

There it is. A snarky tone. He knew he was right to come back here. 

Why was he sent here before? Was someone playing tricks on him? The Abyss? The gods? He knows there has to be a reason for him being teleported here that day.

“May I ask how someone becomes a member of your church, Father?”

He hears you sigh deeply. Why?

Aren’t more members what you want and need?

“If that’s how you want to do this then…I’ll amuse you. Follow me, troubled one.”

Dainsleif’s fists close at the nickname.

He’s brought to a room that you once showed him the previous time that he was here. You never explained what exactly this room was for as he left just before you got to.

There’s a small fountain, clear and blue flowing through it.

“This is a small tradition we have. It’s based on one of the writings that…you haven’t read, but that’s alright. It’s not that difficult to follow.” You start to explain.

“It’s a symbol of starting anew, to wash yourself of the regrets you have.” 

“And if I do not have any?” He questions.

“You do. Everyone does, even Gods.”

“You think gods regret the things they’ve done.” His patience is thinning inch by inch. He almost laughs at the ridiculousness of that sentence.

“That I do. According to one of the passages that—”

“How exactly do I know whether what you’re saying is genuine or just out of a damn book?” He interrupts.

You stare at him with a disapproving look. “You’re deflecting.”

“Excuse me?” 

“What is it that troubles you?”

Nothing. He’s fine. He’s done with everything, there’s no use in pondering over what could’ve and should’ve been.

“Don’t act as if you’re superior to me.” He says, visibly upset.

“So much for becoming a believer.” 

That’s when the grin is swayed off your face in just a few seconds as Dainsleif pins you to the wall, your head slightly tilted up as he grips tightly on your collar.

“Who sent you?” His enchanting eyes cross yours, not even a shade of fear in them.

“What exactly have you gone through that you think everything is out to get you?”

He stills at that. You’re not trying to push him off.

Instead, you’re conversing with him like he’s a lost lamb who’s unsure of where to go. An amenable priest who listens and asks.

He lets go. Your robe is now crinkled, and the mark of his fist is clearly evident.

You sit on the bench near the fountain, patting the empty space right next to it. Dainsleif refuses the offer, choosing to continue standing while he searches for the next words he’d like to say.

You smile.

“You don’t have to apologize or continue this. It doesn’t mean anything anyways if you don’t take it to heart.”

It’s such a strange sentence to hear from someone like you. You’re not..forcing him nor are you trying to sell him your ways by threatening him of what he may face if he doesn’t.

The Khaenri'ahn sighs, the words of apology already at the tip of his tongue.

“I’d prefer it if we were to continue.”

“You would?”

“I can still change my mind.” He jests, seeing you beam from ear to ear.

Dainsleif slowly walks towards the fountain, sitting beside you and laying his head down on your shoulder. The gesture is surprising to the priest but it isn’t turned away.

“I hope you’re quite ready, Father. This might take a while.” He says with his eyes closed.

“Confess your regrets, my troubled one.”

Eventually, it becomes a habit of his to visit you whenever he’s plagued with thoughts that make him anxious and question his choices.

And each time, you’re there to give advice. To lend a shoulder, and sometimes a little more than that.

He will never worship a god, but he’ll sure as hell worship you.

Dainsleif always waits patiently in the last row, watching you and listening to how your voice sounded rather than the message you’re conveying.

It’s soothing, in a way.

He doesn’t say a thing and only waits as you walk down the aisle with a smile.

It’s a silent exchange.

You place your hand on his shoulder and Dainsleif rubs the side of his chin on your hand, his eyes shut. 

“Dainsleif.”

“Yes, Father?” He teases, a smirk forming on his face before opening his eyes.

Your fingers lift his head slightly before bending down to reach his soft lips. He doesn’t pull away, he presses them further as if it’s his salvation. 

It’s somewhat sick that he’s found comfort in someone like you. He contemplates whether he’s walking the path of failure that the gods have planned, if this whole thing will eventually turn over just to punish him even more.

In the end, it’ll all be his fault. He’s the one who revealed secrets that you’ve never asked for.

“You’re making that face again, Dain.” You speak.

“What face?”

“The kind you make when you’re overthinking things. The one I want to get rid of.”

Dainsleif reaches for your hand, asking even if he knows the answer. “Pray tell, how exactly?”

“It makes me wonder if it’s a turn on of yours to get fucked in a place of worship.”

“Like how it’s a turn on for you when I’m on my knees and calling you Father?”

You laugh, caressing his hair as you look down on him.

“You don’t even worship the God of this place.” He looks so sweet like that, his head between your legs. Such beauty ready to kneel for you and do whatever if you ask him kindly.

“What’s the need when I already worship you?” Dainsleif says and takes you in.

Dainsleif never imagined he’d gladly be spending his time inside of a chapel, right in front of empty seats where anyone can walk in through those wooden doors, acting as if the altar is your hips.

And yet he’s letting you use his mouth eagerly, so used to how you taste that sometimes he himself craves for it when you two are separated.

“That’s right, love. Just think of me.” 

He groans as you push further into his throat, his eyes wandering to you despite his breathing getting obstructed.

He loves the things you do. Whether it be hearing you talk so dearly to him, tugging his hair with the right amount of pull, or the way you fill his mouth nicely like this.

It’s yours.

The sound that escapes his throat when your foot presses directly on his crotch is loud and lewd, echoing through the empty chapel.

His cheeks lightly flush, grumbling something incoherent.

“Speak clearly, my lamb.”

He rolls his eyes at the mischievousness of your voice. You know he can’t, and yet you’re still asking him to do so.

He follows still, of course.

“M-Mo—ah!” 

Dainsleif chokes as he tries to speak.

“Too much for you?”

He shakes his head and tries again.

“Mow—Moah-”

It’s not working. He’s stuffed full to even say it.

“Come on,” Your foot steps on his cock again. “There’s another way to plead. I’m sure a smart devotee of mine can figure that out.”

His chest heaves, trying to calm his breathing from the pressure and whining as it stops.

That’s when Dainsleif moves of his own accord, taking you even deeper than you already were. You can feel the vibrations from when he slowly pants, breathing through his nose more so he won’t pass out.

He bats his eyelashes at you, with a face full of sin.

Tears are starting to form in his eyes.

Please.

Dainsleif gags on your cock again, moaning impurely when your foot begins to knead more aggressively on his pants.

Your shoe adds even more stimulation and his cock aches wanting, no, begging for a release.

“Such a sinful body, no wonder the gods haven’t been blessing you.”

Fuck.

He continues to whimper, sucking your cock needily and knowing you’ll stop if he doesn’t do well.

“You get on your knees to be a slut, I wonder if they’ve bruised already.”

They do. They always do when you fuck his throat like this.

His mind is hazy and he’s close, he’s so—

“Hmgh!—”

“Not yet. Be patient.”

His body wants to buck down when you remove the pressure just seconds before he cums, but your hold on his head keeps him from doing that and he’s left to whine painfully.

The tears in his eyes finally fall and he stares up at you to be merciful, to let him have this one since it’s been a month of waiting to finally have you get him off like this.

“You want it?”

He nods and whines, begging for you to hear him out.

“Alright.”

When he gets permission, he sobs out on your cock, cumming inside in his own pants and soiling the floor. You feel how warm his breath is, his body is tired and trembling, but he keeps trying to make you finish as if it’s the only thing he’s made for. Even if he’s barely doing it well, too drunk with his tongue tired already.

The sight of that is enough to get you off.

Dainsleif tries to swallow but he doesn’t do it fully, cum dripping down his chin and coughing on the amount he can’t.

He finds it a waste that he isn’t able to. He stares, wondering if he should clean it up.

“Dain, it’s fine. You did amazing.”

His heart softens.

“Let me help you out, love.”

His head rests on your lap, your fingers playing with his hair. A tradition that you two somehow have ended up doing each time you finish.

He thinks it’s sweet and funny that you act so soft despite the things you say when having sex.

“Tell me.” You say.

“Tell you what?”

“What’s bothering you?” You question.

Dainsleif only snickers at that.

It’s you, Father.

#plattered writings #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #dom!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #dainsleif x reader #sub dainsleif #sub!dainsleif

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Process Heavy

It started off so simply. A friend emailed me a link to a YouTube video promising to teach me about how to get some quick muscle. We had been swearing for months we were going to get on a consistent schedule to go, we just never did. I watched the 20 minute long video quickly. I hardly even noticed when it was over. But I felt energized enough to go on a run. That’s how it would start. I would watch the next video in the series and time would simply slip away. 20 minutes. 30 minutes. An hour. I started noticing changes, little things out of place. My water bottle half drunk in my car. Tee shirts in the laundry when I swore I washed them. Some new supplements I didn’t remember buying. It wasn’t until I popped one on Friday night and came to Monday morning fresh from the shower that I really started to get concerned.

At that point, I began noticing the physical effects. My previously smooth body had begun sprouting hair all over: my chest, my face, my arms, my ass. My voice easily dropped two octaves, deep and bellowing. And the muscle. They were not joking about growing muscle quick. My arms swelled as biceps, triceps, and forearms strained against my taught skin. Abs formed a cobblestone path down to a deep V. Firm pecs we’re established, but not for long. They continued to swell and stick out, heavy and juicy. They were almost hypnotic, the way they would jiggle as I walked. But that was nothing compared to my butt. Bubble would hardly describe it, they were pillow-like. A soft mix of muscle and fat filled out a rear that you could bounce a quarter off. Every part of me swelled and filled with power. That was when the smell really set in. No matter where I was, what I was doing, or how much I would wash I would catch this smell coming off of me. It wasn’t bad, in fact it was deep and masculine in a way that I couldn’t quite describe, but it drove me wild none the less. And I wasn’t the only one. Other bros around me would kind of drift off into their own worlds, with a distinct outline pushing against their pants. I’m not kidding dude, my boss drug me into a meeting last week. He started complaining about how my work was slipping but after just a few minutes he was basically in his own world as he just kinda leaned back in his chair and let it all hang out. I asked if I could go and he just kinda waved me off. There was a faint moan behind me as I closed the door.

At this point whole days were slipping by before I even registered they had started. It was this weekend that I somehow came to during one of my episodes. I was in the sauna in a gym I didn’t recognize. Two bros were in there, zonked out of their minds on my scent. But I realized that wasn’t all. In their state, laid back, sprawled on the bench, mouths hanging open, I saw a stream of liquid dribbling out of one guys mouth. Thick and viscous, I immediately knew the sight of jizz. I stumbled out of the room, leaving my towel behind. I texted my friend who sent me the videos in the first place. I hadn’t seen him since this had all began and I needed answers. I felt my scent catch up with me, tickling at my brain to go back into whatever trance I had been under. I wrapped a fresh towel around my nose and threw on the stringer top, shorts, and sandals I had in my locker. When had my feet grown so big? Free balling, I stormed out to my car and drove towards my friend’s place. When I arrived, the door was almost suspiciously unlocked. Who greeted me inside though was not the curly-haired, lanky, nerdy friend I knew.

He was ripped, oozed confidence, and passed a beer into my hands before I could even process.

“What, not what you were expecting? You didn’t think I would let you have all the fun did you?”

I knew then that this was all his design, his plan for me. I wanted to leave but, every small twitch of this man mesmerized me. Instead, he pushed me onto the couch, covered in his sweaty workout gear, and I began to sip on my beer. He looked me up and down, assessed me like a piece of furniture he wasn’t quite sold on.

“Well, I think you’ve processed long enough. I think it’s time to see what all that training has done.”

He pulled his shirt off and sat facing me in my lap. I was glued to my seat as this man tore my top off of me and pressed our exposed bodies together. My mind tried to to resist but my body betrayed me, as he raised my chin, slid his hand around my neck, and pulled my lips to his. I was enraptured. Our tongues danced as he began exploring my body with his hands. Quickly, he had my arms thrown behind my head as sweat trickled from my pits. He buried his face in and gave them a good sniff.

“Fuck babe, you’re ripe. Not as ripe as these though.”

He threw an arm back and guided my face to his pit. If my scent was good his was pure heroine. It consumed my mind as I felt my cock strain against my shorts. As I worshipped that stench, it kept growing and throbbing. My mind shut down, giving into raw pleasure. Nothing else mattered, I could live on this high alone. In this state, he pulled me out of his pit and asked:

“You want to live like this? You want to be controlled by your master’s scent?”

Fuck I did. Anything, I begged him, please. He gave me one last kiss as he walked out of the room, a video now playing on the TV.

“Then watch”

I felt myself slowly draining. A familiar voice droned out of the speakers, and I was throbbing for the release he would give me. In moments I was floating on nothing but the instructions of my master, and the scent of his used jockstraps lying around me…

Anyone who met you now would have never guessed how you started. A scrawny guy, stressed day in and day out at your corporate job, and cripplingly lonely. Any memories you had of that life were left somewhere in an apartment, nothing but dried cum on the floor and wall. The new you was sexy, outgoing, and confident. You worked out non-stop and did everything your master said to. You are dumb and obedient, with not a thought behind that flirtatious wink. But above all, you are horny. And guys can smell it. They can’t do anything but relax and submit, prostates being milked as they moan for more. The best get brought home and watch a few videos before being sent out into the world. Flex, fuck, propagate.

#male transformation #hypnosis #mind corruption #mind control #musk #jockification #jock #fml

[sluttywoozi]

Adore You | Chapter 2 | kmg x f!reader

I'd walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.8k | Genre: rom com, fluff, smut, office au

Warnings: power imbalance bc reader is his boss but he’s the one doing the pursuing, personal assistant!mingyu, he’s such a simp, mention of food, suggestive thoughts

Reader Notes: wears a skirt and heels, boss bitch, touch starved, gets nails done, wap, referred to as a woman

Step 2. Show you how well he can take care of you.

Two weeks later, you seem happier than ever. You’re eating all of the lunches Mingyu makes for you, you’re drinking more water than coffee for once, and you haven’t mentioned Derek again at all. 

The project also seems to be going smoothly with the extra time allotted, though he hears you placating the higher ups on the phone nearly every day. It bothers him that they don’t trust you, that they don’t believe in your ability to get it done and get it done well, but you and Mingyu both know you can and that’s all that matters. 

That and the fact that it’s let him do even more things for you. More time spent on the phone is less time spent answering emails, and you’ve started allowing him to draft responses for you, to decide what’s important and what isn’t, to arrange and dissolve meetings as he sees fit. 

He feels such a thrill every time you send out an email he wrote or approve one of the appointments he set, and it only gets more exhilarating when you call him into your office and ask him to sit down. 

You don’t have any engagements for over an hour and lunch just finished, so he’s not sure what exactly he’s needed for. He sits across from you gingerly, his body just a touch too big for the chair opposite you, and folds his hands in his lap. 

“Mingyu, I wanted to talk about your role here,” you begin, clearing a space on your desk for a set of forms he doesn’t recognize. 

“Oh… Okay,” he knows he sounds apprehensive, but he’s doing his best to push down the fear that you’ll demote him, or fire him, or transfer him, though he knows he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a thing. 

“You’ve been working for me for, what, half the year?” He nods to confirm, though he wants to tell you it’s been exactly 27 weeks. “And in that time, I feel like you’ve gotten to know me really well. In the last two weeks, I realized you’ve also gotten to know the inner workings of my job really well.”

He nods again, wiping his sweaty palms on his slacks and doing his best to pretend he’s not freaking out. He doesn’t know where you’re going with this, can only hope it leads to more praise and not him filling a cardboard box with all the trinkets on his desk. 

“You’ve taken on a lot of the responsibilities of an executive assistant but you’re still being recognized and paid as my personal assistant. I don’t think that’s fair, so if you’re willing, I’d like to promote you.”

He’s so excited he could vibrate out of his skin, but he needs the assurance that he won’t be shared with anyone else. 

“Would I still work just for you?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want.” 

“It is,” he rushes to say, nodding for good measure as he grips the armrests of the chair. 

He sees your lips twitch, like you want to smile at him but you want to keep your composure more, and Mingyu can’t contain the beam that rises on his face in response. You take the stack of forms in hand, tap them on your desk, and hold them out to him. He reaches with shaking hands to accept the papers from you before staring down at them like they hold all the secrets to the universe. 

They kind of do, because they mean his plan is working. Sure, he didn’t set out looking to get a promotion, but he’ll take it as a sign that you appreciate his efforts and take it as inspiration to work even harder. 

You tell him he can fill out the forms at his desk but he stays, working silently alongside you until the blanks aren’t blanks and his signature covers the pages. You look up at him again when he gently places the papers on the edge of your desk, your lips finally stretched in an indulgent smile as you say, “Can you take those over to HR? They’re expecting you.”

He nods, telling you in his mind that he absolutely can and that he’ll even stop at the ground floor coffee shop on his way back to replenish your caffeine stores. You’ve already had coffee today but you’re both planning on staying late to work on some of the finer details of the project, so he knows you’ll need it. 

Mingyu won’t, your presence has all of the effects on him that caffeine does. Shaking hands, racing heart, whirling mind, he experiences all of those when he’s near you, and now that he’s working closer to you than ever, he’s even stopped getting his morning coffee. The jog and journal entry are just as effective, and cutting back means he can make your lunches even fancier. 

He works on his lunch pinterest board as he waits in line at the cafe, taking into account what he’s already made you and what you seemed to like best. Today is bulgogi braised steak and stir fried veggies, and he’s excited for you to try it. 

When he gets to the front of the line, he ignores the blatant flirting of the barista and orders your standard, paying with his credit card and a smile and standing off to the side to wait. His mind wanders back to his plan, back to the fact that you haven’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in six months, and he feels a frown tugging down the corners of his lips. 

He could make you feel so good, make you so happy, if only you’d give him the chance. 

Convincing you to cross the boundary will be difficult, but he’s hoping that his efforts will ease the way, show you that taking care of you is part of his job and all he’d be doing is adding another duty to his job description. 

Now, as he walks to the elevator with coffee in hand, he has to admit that his endeavor isn’t purely selfless. All this time working for you has led to a bit of a… crush. A crush that means he hasn’t dated since he started working for you, a crush that means he also hasn’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in just as long, a crush that means you’re the only one he really wants. 

He knows he probably can’t date you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t have you, at least in some way. And this is the only way he can think of, a way that’s mostly for you and partly for him, as all things should be. 

Step 3: Help you shed some of your professionalism.

The next step in his plan will be the most difficult yet, but if he does it right, it’ll be the last too. You’re a professional, through and through, and Mingyu knows you’ll never give in if you don’t feel more comfortable with him. Bringing you lunches and becoming your executive assistant has helped, but there’s still a separation, a distance that he can’t help but want to close. 

It helps that you keep that distance with everyone, but, being your assistant, Mingyu feels that he should be a special case. He’s not quite sure how he’ll show you that, but asking about your weekend plans seems like a good start. 

Until you tell him what your plans are, that is. 

“I have a blind date. Apparently, he works in the industry so our mutual friend thought we’d hit it off,�� you shrug, as if you haven’t just pulled the rug out from under him. 

Fuck, he has to strike before you start dating again, because dating usually means sex and sex means someone other than Mingyu might be making you cum and that just won’t work for him. When he started all this, it was mostly about making sure you were treated like you deserved but now, it’s imperative to him that he’s the one treating you like you deserve. 

“Oh, that sounds nice,” he forces out, lifting the corners of his mouth and hoping it’s enough to pass for a smile. 

“I don’t have high expectations,” you respond in a nonchalant tone, squinting at something on your computer. 

“You should.”

…

He shouldn’t have said that, shit, he shouldn’t have said that, but it’s too late now. 

He could laugh it off, act like it was a joke, but he sounded too sincere, too plaintive for it to be anything but the truth. He can tell you’re surprised at his vehemence, as he doesn’t normally talk back to you, and he takes in a deep breath when you tilt your head and furrow your brows. 

This must be when you remind him of his place, when you tell him that he’s overstepped his bounds and gotten too personal, but even as he hangs his head and folds his hands together, you don’t. You don’t say anything, and he glances up at you, expecting to find a disappointed expression but instead finding a pensive one. 

“You’re right, Mingyu. I should have high expectations. When did I let them get so low?”

You’re asking yourself but, emboldened by your response, he answers anyway, “When you started dating Derek instead of me.”

“Instead of you?” You chuckle wistfully, “Mingyu, you’re my subordinate. You're not an option.”

“Maybe I’m not technically an option, but under the table, or… under the desk, I could be.”

You stare at him like you’re waiting for the punchline, but there won’t be one because he’s not joking. He’s fully serious, no matter how inappropriate it may be to offer yourself to your boss. Of course, if you say no, he’ll be packing his bags and taking the first train he can find out of pure shame and embarrassment, but if you say yes…

If you say yes, he’ll drop to his knees right here and now. 

He can’t tell which way you’re leaning, your face impassive and your eyes stormy, and he’s a bit afraid of what you’ll say so he takes the opportunity to excuse himself. 

“I’ll let you think about it, just let me know if you need anything. And I mean anything,” he says, backing towards your door and feeling around for the handle so he doesn’t have to show you his back. He bows before exiting, and as the door closes, he catches you dropping your face into your hands. 

He didn’t mean to add more to your plate, but you deserve to know he’s a possibility. How else can you make an informed decision?

Next Chapter

Adore You Masterlist

Adore You Taglist

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AN: pls activate my praise kink by reblogging 😍

#svthub #kvanity #mingyu oneshot #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #seventeen series #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #kpop imagine #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic

[chaoticace2005]

Thinking about one sided Vox/Alastor has also made me think about Huskerdust, and it’s kind of interesting the way they mirror each other.

Both Vox and Angel (both people who have some kind of relationship with Valentino) push the boundaries of the guy they’re interested in. Both guys turn them down. Both times they react poorly to being turned down. The difference is how the stories begin and ended.

Husk was forced after Angel, jumped in to protect him and made the first step. He started a dialogue that Angel reciprocated in, not because Angel thought Husk would finally return his feelings, but because he was happy to finally have someone who understands him. Their relationship is then created where they care about each other. Whether or not romantic feelings are reciprocated isn’t the point, they formed genuine connection.

Then we have Alastor and Vox, where they were friends BEFORE the confession happened. Alastor must have been willing to be vulnerable to some degree to form attachments with the man, and for a while it was reciprocated, until Vox confessed and pushed. This caused Alastor to leave and then we see the fall out later with Alastor and Vox’s battles.

Huskerdust and radiostatic have the same pieces of the story, just told in very different orders:

Huskerdust: Push boundaries- needle each other- fight- one reaches out- they bond- friendship

Radiostatic: One reaches out- they bond- friendship- push boundaries- fight- needle each other

The difference between the two is not just the order but also the fact with Huskerdust they recognize they needed to stop. Husk was in no way obligated to take the first step because Angel kept pushing him, but he did, because he recognized something in him. Then with Angel’s treatment of Husk later Angel recognized he needed to stop. What Angel was doing was a persona and self-defense mechanism, yes, but that explains why he did it, not excusing it. And to change he must be able to recognize that.

With Vox though, he doesn’t recognize it. We don’t know exactly where Vox’s feelings from Alastor stem, they may not be a persona like Angel’s but they’re certainly unhealthy, and he refuses to recognize it. Focusing only on his own comfort and hurt, which Angel similarly did until he was pulled out of the loop.

I want to again reiterate the reciprocity of these feelings isn’t my point of discussion. Radiostatic isn’t “more toxic” than Huskerdust because Alastor is aroace and doesn’t reciprocate Vox’s feelings, while Husk potentially grows to have feelings for Angel. Alastor isn’t in the wrong solely because he denied Vox. That’s not the point. The point is their similar reactions to rejection and how their relationships changed from it.

In Huskerdust we have the creation of trust and forming of a bond.

In radiostatic we have the loss of trust and fracture of one.

(Literally just exponential growth vs decay)

(Also im just comparing the relationships. I am in no way saying Angel and Vox are the same person or Husk and Alastor are. Everyone has their own separate fucked up shit going on and different degrees of fucked uppedness. Husk and Angel don’t seem near as sadistic as Vox and Alastor are, I’m not equating them to “villains” in that sense. The whole point of this is the fact that their relationships have such different end results BECAUSE Husk and Angel are able to recognize their faults to a degree and WANT to change. With the other two we don’t really have that.

Angel could have continued down the whole “incel” route and told Husk to fuck off every time he tried reaching out. Too snubbed by the fact that he rejected him. Husk could have decided to leave Angel out to try and not help him at the bar. Hell, he could have watched the whole thing happen and fucking enjoyed it. But he didn’t.)

#was literally about to go to bed at 8 am when I had this thought and had to type it all out #hazbin hotel #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #husker hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #staticradio #radiostatic #onewaybroadcast #angelhusk #hazbin hotel meta #hazbin hotel analysis

[your3fundamentaltruths]

"Penelope Isn't Owed Colin's Feelings"

Some parts of this fandom have a tendency to elide and otherwise get twisted the following regarding 2x08: (1) why many of those who are unhappy with Colin are unhappy with Colin and (2) why many of those who sympathize with Penelope sympathize with Penelope. And that's only more apparent in the reactions to the season 3 scene released on Valentine's Day.

It's not about thinking Penelope is owed Colin's feelings.

People are unhappy with Colin because of how he expressed that he wasn’t interested in Penelope – both because friends shouldn’t talk about their friends that way in general and because she’s in a more socially precarious position than he is and his seeming to think her less-than only makes her prospects worse. Even if Penelope didn't have feelings for him, it still would have been viewed unfavorably.

Some like to say the latter point about damaging Penelope's prospects isn’t a big deal because Penelope didn’t have prospects before 2x08 so she’s not losing anything when it’s actually a bigger deal for that very reason. Speaking like that about a Daphne/an Edwina/another popular, sought-after girl would be seen as sour grapes or otherwise not reflect badly on the girl, but saying something like that about a wallflower who has no dowry is just pushing her further down and increasing the likelihood that she’ll never have any prospects, particularly when Colin’s just been seen leading her out of a ballroom after being regularly spotted in her company. What’s wrong with her that, despite all that, the notion of courting her is not just unappealing but laughable? the rest of the ton will wonder. And Colin will recognize why this wasn’t great because he’s a fundamentally decent and sensitive person and will likely also recognize that Pen’s confidence is ground to dust at the beginning of the season. Neither of these things will sit right with him. Hence, the “confidence lessons.”  

Yes, Colin’s not perfect and he's allowed to make mistakes. He's only human. But this mistake hits Pen (and the audience) harder because he's otherwise been good and kind. And because we know, even if she doesn't in that moment, that he will feel very badly about it because he's a good guy and will hate to have hurt her.

Penelope falls in love with Colin (even if not in the fully-fledged, "see all of you" way that they both will this season) because of the kind of friend he is to her, i.e., his kindness. The fact that she develops these feelings in the course of their friendship and that these feelings sometimes influence the ways she acts doesn't make her some kind of awful predator lying in wait who feels entitled to having her feelings returned as I've seen implied by some. This makes her someone in love with her friend, which is a necessary part of a friends-to-lovers story. Hope ≠ entitlement.

And people sympathize with Pen not because they think she can do no wrong or because they believe she is owed Colin’s feelings but because, even knowing that no one is owed anyone else’s feelings, they see her grappling with unrequited feelings in particularly painful ways. In season 1, they watched her have a front-row seat to the person she loves romancing someone else, mostly in her own home, up to an engagement and near-elopement. At the beginning of season 2, they watched her and Colin talk past each other in the "you do not count" scene in a way that hurt her, even if they know that was not Colin's intent, after the pair of them spent the off-season writing heartfelt letters. They watched her hopes build up all throughout the rest of season 2 until the very moment she overheard him (more on that shortly), even if, again, it would never have been Colin's intent to confuse her or lead her on. Colin and Pen are simply not on the same page.

So people have all this context coming into 2x08. But most of all, they understand how badly it would hurt to hear anyone you care about, let alone someone for whom you have feelings (and doubly so a dear friend for whom you have feelings) say something like that in that tone and laugh, let alone in your own home on the same night you've just lost your best friend. 

Relatedly, let’s talk more about why the Featherington ball was a night of such high highs and low lows for Penelope. Up until that point in the season, Colin had shown her such care, including just a little while before and, while for him it is exclusively in the spirt of friendship, it's very much unintended mixed signals, i.e., more talking past one another. The ways Colin expresses his friendly affection for Pen are at odds with what was widely considered appropriate behavior in their time between a man and a woman who are neither related nor romantically involved. In fact, by the standards of Regency England, Colin is taking very significant liberties that are inappropriate between opposite-sex friends of marriageable age who have no intention of becoming more than friends (and even between those who are romantically interested in one another but still unmarried). For example, Portia would have been considered justified in demanding that they marry just after finding them alone together behind a closed door in 2x08 doing nothing else otherwise untoward – and likely would have, had she not been so shaken up by Colin figuring out the gemstone scheme. And, yes, Pen is not pushing back, is meeting him where he is, because she likes it and because she also values their friendship and wants it to mean more – but, in the context of their time, it’s even more understandable that she’d read more into it than someone now. And even someone now might read into some of the things Colin says and does and get confused and then hurt upon learning they're wrong and that their friend only has friendly feelings toward them, particularly in the way Penelope is forced to learn that she's wrong. 

Does that mean Penelope's reaction in the new clip is the kindest or fairest? No. But she’s human and she’s hurting. She's a lonely nineteen-year-old girl really struggling to find her place in the world who heard her dear friend express his lack of interest in her in a really disdainful-sounding way inconsistent with both his immediate and long-term private treatment of her. That’s really jarring and she not unreasonably concluded that this happened because he finds her embarrassing. If you were her, might there not be a little voice in the back of your mind wondering whether this is even the first time he’s spoken about her that way when he thought she couldn’t hear him? Still, I expect she’ll also feel badly that she spoke to him the way she did, especially in the face of an earnest apology from Colin about what he said, or she wouldn’t accept the offer of the confidence lessons and it would take longer for them to get to where they are in the “remarkable shade of blue” scene in the second episode. Let's give her space to come to that place. Let's show her a smidge of grace instead of assuming the worst of her and anyone who sympathizes with her.

Lastly, some of the same people who are mad about what Pen said and how she said it in the Valentine's Day clip (1) complain about the way the fandom is too hard on Colin for not saying things exactly right and (2) spent months preemptively raking Pen over the coals for "ghosting" Colin, for holding "never dream of courting Penelope Featherington" over his head for ages, for publishing it in Whistledown to punish him rather than talk to him directly, etc. So let’s give her a little credit for ultimately saying it outright to him, even though it must have been mortifying to do so when she believes she embarrasses him. Did it feel nice to Colin not to receive any replies to his letters? Of course not. It wouldn't feel good for any of us. (Side note: I hate that his family seems to have mostly left him on read, too! Don't get me started on that.) But would you want to reply to someone whom you believe you embarrass and who you believe has been two-faced toward you (i.e., being kind and friendly in private and laughing at you in public)? But to her credit, when confronted, Penelope does say why she's upset.

And no, Penelope does not owe it to Colin to further mortify herself by explaining that her feelings for him made his words last season that much more hurtful. (I’ve seen people criticize her for that, too.) Not sharing every single thought and feeling that crosses her mind does not make her Bad – neither a bad friend nor a bad person. Again, have some empathy and be honest: is there any scenario in which you would you be eager to tell someone you had feelings for them after hearing them laugh at the thought of you being a serious prospect for them? If Penelope does at some point admit her own feelings (and the longevity of said feelings) before she hears a declaration of love from Colin as she does in the books, then she is brave as hell and hats off to her, but not doing so at this stage would not be some dereliction of any friendly duty to Colin, especially not if she forgives him for his words as we know she does.

Actually lastly: not forgetting something entirely doesn’t mean you haven’t forgiven someone for it or are trying to punish them for it. It would not only not be Bad but also entirely understandable if Penelope had doubts when first confronted with a proposal from Colin later in the season, especially if it immediately follows the carriage scene. It would not be unreasonable for her to think this arises from a sense of gentlemanly obligation or lust or both, especially when she's familiar with his tendency to want to play the hero and when she has every reason to believe that his engagement to Marina came on the heels of a seduction. Grappling with understandable insecurities, including a fear that she might be inadvertently entrapping him, too, would ≠ Penelope trying to punish Colin for 2x08 or for not having feelings for her from the start if the show goes down that route.

#polin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton #I love them and I wish people would just allow them BOTH their humanity #and not assume the worst of people for trying to do so

[joelsgreys]

we need you

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SET IN JACKSON. takes place during Kin. arguing, angst. helpful to know reader was not present when Joel and Tommy talked in the garage. NO mentions of age, reader has no physical description.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: welllllp i don't know about you guys, but i am DEAD inside after tonight so to cope i am going to write a little drabble. already put it in the warning/tags section, but once again, just to be on the safe side of things: potential spoilers, proceed with caution if you do not want the newest episode spoiled!

“Just what in the motherfucking hell was that, Joel?” You nearly growled, bursting through the door of the bedroom that he’d chosen to occupy for the night. Having heard the way he’d spoken to Ellie—not to mention, all that he had said to her even after her heartbreaking confession to him, her unspoken cry for him not to abandon her, all you could see in your mind was the color red. Sure, you and Joel had been through your fair share of bullshit over the years, disagreements that caused friction between the two of you weren’t all that uncommon seeing as the two of you shared similar personality traits to each other, stubbornness being one of them. But you could not, for the life of you, remember an occasion where you’d been this angry with him, this fucking livid. As you watched him sink down onto the bed without a word, your hands curled into fists at your sides. You knew it would only make matters worse, losing your temper, but you weren’t all too sure that you could contain it this time around.

The blood in your veins was bubbling, boiling hot underneath your skin.

“Are you going to fucking answer me or what?” You prompted, a cool edge to your tone despite the heat radiating throughout your body. “You’re really trying to hand her off to Tommy?”

Joel sighed, shaking his head. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

“Find what out, Joel? That you went off and made a decision, and a really fucking dumb one at that, without even talking to me about it first?” You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. Despite how incredibly furious you were, the sadness was heavy inside of your chest. Tt was as if Joel had forgotten the fact that for the last few months, Ellie had been under your care too, and you had every right to be a part of any decision that he made regarding her and her well-being. It hurt you to your very core that he’d done this without talking to you first, and it hurt you even deeper to know that Ellie had known about this and she’d kept it all to herself all evening.

She’d come home from the movies and when you offered her dinner, she refused to eat and stomped upstairs, locking herself in the bedroom. You’d chalked it up to nothing more than a typical teenaged girl simply having a mood swing. After all, it hadn’t exactly been the best day for Ellie. She’d arrived in Jackson and the first thing she noticed was how everyone in the colony looked at her, especially the children. She was different. She didn’t fit in, she stuck out like a sore thumb and you knew that had to have been hard for her. Not wanting to push her, you’d figured that she would come out of the room eventually and talk you about it when she was good and ready. But now that you knew the real reason why she had come home so upset, you couldn’t help but to feel guilty.

For hours, Ellie had been upstairs in that room knowing that Joel planned on dumping her on Tommy and you didn’t have the slightest fucking clue about what was going on until you’d overheard Joel and Ellie’s shouting match just moments ago.

“Joel.” You said his name in a tone neither of you recognized.

Low, venomous, borderline dangerous.

You were like a ticking bomb, seconds away from going off.

Joel narrowed his eyes at you. “She’s better off with Tommy, alright? And we both fuckin’ know that,” he said. “It’s the best thing to do for her. I’m doin’ it because I know damn good and well that if she stays with me, all I’m gonna do is have her fall into the wrong fuckin’ hands or killed.”

“You’re wrong!” You countered, dropping your arms away from your chest and back down to your sides. “Joel, don’t you dare fucking do this. Ellie doesn’t want Tommy, she wants you. She all but fucking said it right to your face just a minute ago!” You cried, pointing a finger towards the door of the room as if pointing to Ellie herself. “She admitted to you that she wouldn’t feel safe with anyone else, Joel. So don’t you fucking do this to her.”

He gripped the edge of the bed, his knuckles going ghost white. “She’ll be better off with Tommy,” he repeated himself. He paused for a brief moment, just long enough to avert his tortured gaze from yours as he said, “And so would you.”

Your mouth parted slightly in shock. “Fucking excuse me?”

“I can’t keep her safe. Hell, I can barely keep you safe! How many fuckin’ times have I almost lost you? ‘Cause I don’t move fast enough? ‘Cause I’ve made the wrong decisions? ‘Cause I’ve asked you to do somethin’ for me and turns out that I unknowingly sent you into the fuckin’ lion’s den?” He inhaled a sharp breath, and you could hear his voice breaking with each and every word that fell from his lips. “I’ve almost cost you your life how many fuckin’ times now?”

“Joel—”

“Tess died ‘cause of me.” He saw you open your mouth to protest and he quickly added, “You can sit there and tell me over and over that it wasn’t my fault ‘til you’re blue in the face, but let’s just fuckin’ be honest and tell it how it is, alright? I couldn’t get to her quick enough and now she’s dead. I won’t let you meet the same fate.” Joel reached up, raking a hand tiredly through his hair, mentally bracing himself for your reaction to what he was about to say next. “I think you should go with Tommy and get Ellie to where she needs to be. After that, you should—you should think about stayin’ here with him in Jackson. I probably don’t belong here, but you do.”

You let out a small, shaky breath of air.

“Who the hell are you to make that kind of decision for me?” You asked, willing yourself to keep yourself from crumbling into tears. “I’m sorry Joel, but you can’t make that kind of a choice for me. And do you want to know what else?” You didn’t even wait for him to respond. “You can’t make it for Ellie, either.”

“She’s fuckin’ fourteen years old—”

You took a step forward as you challenged him. “Do you really think that girl isn’t smart enough to know deep down inside what’s best for her? Tell me, do you really think that Ellie pulled everything she said out of her ass? Do you honestly think that she could ever trust Tommy the way that she trusts you?” You felt a warm tear slide down your cheek and quickly wiped it away before he could see it. “Ellie is young, but she’s not a baby, Joel. I get that sometimes we need to guide her through shit, but let’s be real. She is old enough to make decisions for herself. Maybe not all of them, but the decision that you’re trying to make for her right here, right now—it isn’t yours to make.” Another tear made its way down the side of your face as you whispered, “And the one you’re trying to make for me isn’t either.”

Joel hung his head, seemingly defeated. “Why can’t you see it’s for the best? Why are you makin’ this so hard?”

Willing your trembling legs to move, you slowly walked over to him and sank to your knees in front of him; although you tried to meet his eyes, he refused. “You care about Ellie. I know it, I can see it and I can feel it. For as much shit as you give her all the time, I know that she’s become so important to you.”

“‘Course she is,” he mumbled. “You’re both important to me.”

You reached for his hands, pulling them forward onto his lap. You placed your own hands on top of his, lacing your fingers together. “Then don’t fucking do this to us, Joel. Please. I’m already down on my knees and I will fucking beg and plead if that’s what it’s going to take.” You crouched down a little further, enough so that you could look up into his dark brown eyes. “Ellie wants to be with you, Joel. And I do too.”

Joel’s gaze glistened with tears that he tried, but failed, to keep from falling in front of you. “I’ll fail you, just like I’ve fuckin’ failed everybody else.”

“Joel, please listen to me. Hear what I am saying, for the love of Christ. We have come so far,” You said, firmly squeezing his hands in yours as if somehow that would snap him out of it. “Whether you choose to believe or not, we’ve only come this far because of you. You have done so much for us. It’s why we trust you, why we feel safe with you. Me and Ellie, we belong with you, Joel—not with Tommy, not with anyone else. We need you, okay? We fucking need you. Do you understand me, Joel?”

Joel exhaled the breath he’d been holding shakily, leaning down to be closer to you. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead against yours as he tried to even out his breathing.

Rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs in soothing circles, you lifted your head and lightly pressed your lips against his forehead.

“We’re going to finish what we started,” You murmured quietly against his skin, feeling a slight shudder rack his body as a single whimper escaped him. You squeezed his hands again. “Together, Joel.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal

[seungmoonandstars]

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Kim Seungmin/female reader

requested by hydratedhydro!

wc: 1k

rating: fluff (Seungmin wants to have your babies)

Seungmin ran off and left you to fend for yourself at this birthday party. It’s only been a five minutes, but still—all you can do now is sit awkwardly and wait for him to return.

-

It’s a little crowded. You’re not sure if that’s good or bad: more people means less attention directed toward you. Less people, well, they might notice you sitting here.

You don’t even really know anyone here. Everyone you do know well enough is with Seungmin right now.

A few moments later, you relax. You see him appear across the room, but he’s not breaking away. In fact, he and IN all together seem perfectly comfortable with the conversation they’ve kicked up. Or they were pulled into.

You narrow your eyes at him and hope he can feel it, but he doesn’t even glance your way.

“Hello!”

You don’t pay attention at first. It’s an unfamiliar voice, and why would anyone be talking to you anyway?

“May we sit here?”

Now you break free of your trance and look to your left. You don’t recognize her, but a young woman is standing over you. Her face is sweet and her arms are very, very full.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

You stupidly set your bag and phone on the seat next to you, so you snatch it up and make her more space.

“I saw you come in with Seungmin, are you two good friends?”

Your face heats up and you hesitate for a brief moment, “yes, we are good friends.”

“I knew him when he was just a kid. He’s grown up so much.”

You’re listening to her, but your attention is on the baby she’s carrying now. She’s young, just a few months old. Her eyes are open and searching the space in front of her.

“This is Haneul.” Her mother says and moves the blanket from around her face. “This is her first time at a party, but I’m not sure how she likes it yet.

“She seems content.”

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Where did your date run off to?”

———

Seungmin has his back to you. He hasn’t forgotten you’re sitting back there alone, but the conversation they’ve gotten into has been difficult to get out of.

He turns his head and scans the room, casually, until his eyes land on you. He’s relieved to see you speaking to someone else besides him. The entire night has been spent worrying about whether or not you’ll have any fun at all. He knows you prefer being alone with him.

For a moment, he turns away, but IN has been staring along with you, and he hasn’t stopped.

“Does she like babies?” He smiles and nudges Seungmin.

“I’m not sure…,” he looks your way, and right at that moment, the little one is carefully handed off to you. “We haven’t talked about it.” He feels a little drop in his stomach. Seungmin wants kids, but having them anytime soon is not really in his plan.

The sight of you is giving him second thoughts, though.

IN giggles, “I think she does.”

———

You stand with her when she starts to fuss, and that does the trick. Haneul likes to be walked around, like most babies do, so you do a few laps back and forth near your seat, just until she settles again.

You’ve visited the daycare floor a few times at work. Very rarely. You like it up there, though. You’re making a mental note to visit more often.

When you glance in the direction of Seungmin, you see him watching you. He smiles, but doesn’t move. You smile and try to pull him back with your eyes, but it doesn’t work. He’s looks back at his group every so often, because they keep pulling him back in, but you’re pretty sure you have most of his attention now. He just doesn’t want to be rude.

IN is leaning to talk to him, nudging him a little further away each time. You appreciate it, and you’ll have to remember to thank him for that.

———

He still can’t get away, but he hopes you know that he’s trying.

When the conversation finally seems to slow down, and IN successfully pushes him an awkward distance away, Seungmin excuses himself. And just when he turns to face you again, you’re handing the baby back to her mother.

It takes a moment, though, because you’re still talking to her—your finger is clenched in her tiny hand. You’re not ready to give her up yet, but you know you have to.

Seungmin sees her let go when he’s halfway to you. You can tell he’s pouting a little as he gets closer and closer.

For a moment you just stand there and look at each other.

“You missed the baby,” you reach to touch his wrist, and he grabs your hand.

“I saw you, though.” Seungmin leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “That was good enough.”

“She was very cute.”

“As cute as our babies?” He pulls you close to say it softly, but he’s still not sure if the sweet moment with the baby was just you being friendly. Maybe that was too much.

He says it like it’s the most normal, casual comment of the night. You know he likes and wants kids, he just doesn’t know that you know about that part of him. But you have ways of finding out. What catches you off guard is that, yes, he wants them with you. It might be the most serious thing he’s ever said to you, regarding your relationship. He doesn’t open up very much.

“No, not that cute.” You wonder if he notices how shaky your voice is now.

Mhmm his lips move softly across your ear. “So, you do—?”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want…someday.”

“Someday?”

“Hopefully.”

#requests #hydratedhydro #kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #skz fluff #skz seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic

[forever-rogue]

A little hurt to comfort request

A wannabe groupie makes comments about rockstar!eddie girlfriend (aka reader maybe plus-size!reader) eddie ofc defends his lady. But then reader starts feeling insecure about her looks and body she thinks she isn’t good enough for him. But he reassures her that she is the only one for him.

AN | I hope this is okay! I feel like this would be me too, Eddie would be the best the best 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been no secret that you’d been dating Eddie Munson for close to a year now. The Eddie Munson.  Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but then you'd wake up with him pulling you into his chest. 

Life was…pretty fucking good. Or pretty fucking metal as Eddie liked to say.

You'd never thought twice about the fact that you were dating him, or rather that he had chosen you. 

Not until, anyway, one night when you were at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, but you usually watched from the front VIP area or remained backstage to watch everything. Today, something compelled you to go out in the thick of it all, to be with the crowd and experience it from a new angle. 

You were walking in with Jeff’s wife, the two of you holding beers as you went to your seating area. A few curious glances were sent your way, almost as if the people recognized the two of you but just couldn’t quite place you. That was probably exactly what was going on; it was nice to retain some sense of anonymity. 

The two of you siddled into your spots and you heard a burst of laughter coming from a few seats down. The noise was so loud and out of place that it caused you to look down the row. Much to your chagrin you found two women staring back at you, wicked smirks on their faces. 

They were exactly the type of women you expected to be at a rock concert. Scantily dressed with large fake breasts, fake tans, bleached hair and too make-up. These were the type of women that you found after trying to get in with the boys. Groupies, and they were shameless about it. 

You turned your attention back to Angela, but before you could fully do so, you heard a loud moo directed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard them making very non-discreet and rude comments. They were directed at you, you knew that right away and they were making no point to hide it.

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is dating her?”

“She must be good at sucking dick because you know Eddie wouldn’t keep her around for anything else.”

“She’s clearly good at eating.”

“He could do so much better.”

“What a waste of space!”

“If you’re going to be a porker, you could at least try to look pretty.”

You felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes but tried to push away the feelings that were bubbling up. They were just words after all, they shouldn’t have any real effect on you, and yet…it was the worst feeling. Those girls were purposely being cruel and for no real reason. No reason other than the fact that they were jealous of the fact that you were dating Eddie. 

Angela picked up on your sudden mood shift, and gently put her hand on your arm, “what’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” you lied so quickly that it was clearly not true. A frown settled on her features but you shook your head, “really, it’s fine.”

You could see that she was looking past you and down the row where the two girls were standing, looking smug as can be, “was it them? Did they do something?”

“No - nothing,” you dropped your voice to what you hoped was only what she could hear so they didn’t make anything worse, “just felt a little odd for a few minutes. It’ll pass soon.”

“If you’re sure…” she was a good friend and would have done anything for you, just as you would for her. You took a sip of your beer and tried to put on what you thought would be a convincing smile. 

“Of course!” you had never been more thankful for the band to come out and play. You watched the boys struck onto stage, Eddie looking every bit the showman. Your heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him, “c’mon let’s get this show started!”

It wasn't entirely enough to take your mind off everything, but at least you experienced the momentary happiness of getting Eddie on stage. 

You tried to ignore the horrible girls that continued to make comments throughout the show. But it was fuckin’ hard.

Once the show ended, you allowed the crowd around you to disperse and leave, remaining behind so you could make your way backstage quietly. You really didn’t want to see or be around anyone else right now, especially not ones that were going to throw horrible comments at you. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once the crowd had thinned out, you followed Angela to the back of the stadium. At least you had the promise of getting to see Eddie soon. She was talking about something but you were only half listening. There were tons of people, girls and guys, hanging around the dressing rooms, trying to sneak their way inside. Luckily the security was good and they kept prying eyes and nosey nancies away. 

The guards recognized both of you now and there wasn’t even a need to show your passes. Eddie must have somehow sensed your presence because he opened the door as soon as you were near it. His entire face lit up as soon as he saw you, the beautiful and brilliant smile making its appearance as he studied you. Before you could even say anything, his brows furrowed and eyes grew worried.

"What's wrong?" and you had to fight the fresh wave of tears that threatened to well up. He gently took your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

"N-nothing," you lied and he was able to see right through it. It was the soft look on his face that caused it all to be too much and the tears spilled over. Eddie's touch was nothing short of reverent as he wiped them away, "its nothing, I'm just being dumb."

"It's not nothing if it's making you feel this way," he insisted but you pulled out of his touch and ducked into his dressing room. Angela saw what was going on and walked over to Eddie, "what's going on?"

"There were girls," she explained, "sitting near us. They were making horrible and rude comments about her. Totally unnecessary and I think they really got to her."

"What the fuck-"

"Yeah," she nodded sadly, looking around to see who was hanging around. And, to no surprise at all, the girls were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Angela grabbed his hand and pointed in their direction, "them! It was the two of them."

A furious look crossed his features as he pulled away from her. Despite the whole bad boy image, Eddie was really soft and kind. But this had brought up a while different type of emotion and Angela had never seen him so mad.

"Hey," he barked at the girls, who immediately pushed to get to him. Little did they know they were not going to like what he had to say to them. The one that had instigated everything came forward and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Hi Eddie-"

"Which one of you was talking shit about my girlfriend?" Their faces paled as they exchanged nervous looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, "huh? Not so brave now, are we?"

"We didn't say anything mean," the other one lied, "we were just talking. She probably misunderstood."

"Bull-fucking-shit," he shook his head, curls bouncing widely, "I know your type, you're just rude to others for no reason. What did you think you were going to get out of being bitches?"

"Listen, we didn't do-"

"I know you did," he glared at them, "did you think we'd somehow break up and one of you had a chance with me? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"We didn't mean anything by it…"

"Well, that's lovely but you did what you did," he took a step back and shook his head at them, "you're never allowed at another Corroded Coffin show. I'll make sure of that. And if this ever happens and I get word of it, I won't be as nice. Clear?"

Neither of them managed to say anything, only nodding dumbly before turning around and practically running away. Eddie told his security to make sure to get their information so he could make sure they were banned from any future shows.

"You're a good man," Angela squeezed his shoulder before turning around to find Jeff.

Eddie took a deep breath before letting himself into his dressing room. His heart broke a little bit when he saw you sitting on the couch, eyes red from crying. 

"Baby," he came over and sat down next to you, attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. You flinched out from under his touch and shook your head at him, hastily wiping away the rest of your half-dried tears. His heart ached; you’d never shied away from his touch before, “what’s wrong? Please just…tell me. Let me make it better. I talked to those girls-”

“It’s not…” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, “it’s not just them. It’s just…me.”

“You? How is it you?’ he crossed his arms over his chest, pale skin covered in various ink, “you know I’m not going to quit asking until you tell me. I’m a stubborn bastard, you know that.”

“Look at yourself,” you gestured to him and confusion marred his features as he looked at himself. He was still sweaty, in desperate need of a post show shower, only wearing a pair of skinny jeans and his beat up sneakers. He shrugged as you huffed, “now look at me.”

He looked you over, the same look as always in his eyes. You were gorgeous and he honestly had no clue what you were going on about, “umm…baby, you’re beautiful. You know that.”

“No,” you stood up and shook your head, “I’m…fuck, Eddie, you have eyes, I’m not skinny and I don’t look like all those other girls who throw themselves at you. I’m-”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, “so what? I love that you don’t look like any of them, I don’t want them - I want you. I love you, baby, all of you.”

“You could have someone better,” you turned your back to him and hid your face in your hands. Eddie didn’t even know how to possibly respond because you were so wrong - so wrong, “someone that looks good like you and that deserves you.”

“I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I don’t want anyone else but you,” Eddie’s hands found your shoulders as he gently turned you around, so he could properly look at you. He put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. He hated seeing you cry and even more he hated the idea that you could ever think so lowly of yourself. You were everything to him and he wished he could make you understand that, “only you. You’re it for me, baby.”

You knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t lying to you. But it still didn’t help the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness that was settling into the back of your mind. Instead of arguing with him or pushing the issue further all you could do was nod in response, “me too, Eddie. You’re it for me too.”

He relaxed slightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite Eddie’s reassurances, the run in at his show stuck with you. You weren’t able to completely shake off the feelings that those cruel words had brought up. Despite trying to hide them and pretending that they weren’t there in order to trick yourself into letting them go, nothing worked. Instead, it just kept getting worse and worse and you found yourself drifting apart from Eddie. 

You felt like you were suddenly aware of every single time someone else looked at him, or read too much into everything that was said to him. You couldn’t help but think that he deserved someone better, someone different - someone that wasn’t you. You wanted only the best for the man you loved so much. 

That’s how you made the hardest decision of your life. 

Eddie practically bounded to the door when he heard the silly little knock that the two of you had come up with. He wasn’t expecting you, but he was always more than happy to see you. He threw open the door, ready to wrap you up in his arms.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the somber expression on your face. You caught his eye for just a moment, looking away and staring at your feet, “h-hey.”

“What’s wrong?” of course he dove right into it; not that you could blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be doing the same thing, “baby?”

“L-listen,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m sorry to do this so late, but umm…I think - I think we should break up.”

“What?” his doe eyes grew wide as you rocked back and forth on your heels before stepping back from him. Eddie ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to rationalize why you were suddenly breaking up with him. He never once thought about the two of you breaking up; in his mind it was forever, and that’s what he had always planned on, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” your words caught in your throat and it sounded even more harsh and choked. This time you hadn’t even bothered to hold back your tears, instead they fell down your cheeks and landed onto the marble of the apartment building’s floor, “I can’t date you anymore, Eddie.”

Eddie was a smart man; it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “can’t date me or won’t  date me?”

“What’s the difference?” you threw up your hands in exasperation.

“You know what it is,” you groaned. You loved his tenacity but right now you just wished he’d accept what you were saying, “either way, Eddie, this is over.”

“Baby,” he tried to grab your arms but you just pulled away, “baby. Is this about what happened a few weeks ago?”

“No,” the blatant lie was obvious, “I just…I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Give me one good reason,” he asked, some desperation creeping into his voice despite how cool he was trying to play it, “give me one good reason why we can’t be together.”

You looked at him, squarely in the face, “I don’t love you.”

And that, those four simple words, cut deeper than anything he would have expected. He knew - or at least desperately hoped - that you were lying to him. Right? Right? The last three years you’d spent together couldn’t all have been a lie, surely. The love you said was real…it couldn’t just have been pretend. That might have actually killed him.

“That’s a lie,” he said through gritted teeth as you shrugged at him, “please, wait, I…we can talk about this and figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” your voice was barely audible as you created an even larger distance between the two of you, “it’s done.”

Eddie watched silently as you walked towards the elevator. When you stepped inside you turned around so you could face him before pressing the button for the lobby. 

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard you say before the doors closed, “I’m sorry.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like an eternity since you’d last seen Eddie. In reality, it had only been four months, but it felt like the longest time in your life. Every day without him felt achingly long and dreadful. The fact that he was famous and you had to see him in magazines, on TV, in advertisements and posters didn’t help. In some ways it was a small comfort getting to see him, but it also made your heart ache more for him. 

You had been tempted to go to his apartment and explain and try and work it out but you stopped yourself. All of this was because of you; and now you had to live with the consequences of your actions. The fact that he was on tour again helped your dilemma slightly - he wasn’t going to be home. 

Even if you were miserable, you hoped that he would be happy. He would find someone that was worthy of his love and that matched him as best as possible. Someone that wasn’t you. Maybe one day you would have your turn too…maybe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you heard knocking at the door. You set down your glass with a huff before pausing the movie you were watching. You’d already gotten the pizza you ordered and had no clue what this could have been. Whatever it i was, it better have been worth getting off the couch.

“Hang on,” you called out before opening the door; you didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before opening, “what?”

“Hi,” and there stood Eddie Munson. A small, tired half smile was on his face; he looked like he’d just come from a show, that similar glow on his face, “h-hi there.”

“Eddie?” you asked softly as though it wasn’t obvious that he was standing right there in your hallway. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning against the doorframe in disbelief, “w-what are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off softly, “you’ve been on tour. I thought your last show was tomorrow night?”

“Still keeping track, huh?” he teased as warmth crept into your cheeks before offering him a single affirmative nod, "the last show was umm…tomorrow but I just…I wanted to see…you."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself and he nodded with a smile, "why? After everything I said and did. I was awful to you."

"It wasn't you," he stated simply, "I mean it was you but it was…circumstances."

"Eddie-"

"Can I come in?" You stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. Once inside, he took a look around the familiar space, feeling more at home than he had in a long time. You went into the living room and plopped on the couch. He sat down on the other end, keeping a bit of distance between your bodies, "so…"

"What are you doing here, Eddie?" you allowed yourself one little look at his face. He looked tired and run down, but there was an expression of fierce determination on his face.

"I'm here to see you," he was never one to beat around the bush, "and I guess…asking you to take me back."

Your tummy erupted in butterflies and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You turned to him, "I - what…you want me to take you back?"

"It's been four months and everyday has fucking sucked," he admitted, letting out a shaky little exhale, "and its because you're not there. I…my life isn't complete without you."

"But…I," he really had to go and be the best man ever. You smiled softly at him, "why would you want to be with me?"

"Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, as though the answer was so obvious. To him it was obvious - you were everything to him. You looked at him, searching his pretty brown eyes, "babe, I'm in love with you. Everything about you, I'm so fucking in love with you it scares me some times. I don't want anyone but you. Like ever."

"But…"

"But what?" He asked gently as you searched for the right words, "tell me, baby."

"You deserve better."

"Why?"

"'cause," you shrugged him off but he wasn't going to have it.

"Nuh uh," he moved even closer and reached for your hand, "I'm not going to let it go until you give me a real answer."

"Look at me, Eddie!" You hung your head before sighing heavily, "I'm not skinny and pretty like all those other girls! You could have any and every single one of them. They'd be so much better for you and they'd be more like you. You'd have someone that deserves you."

"Is that what…baby, is that what this has been about?" He had his light bulb moment but it was a harsh reality. This was still bugging you for so long and he hadn't even realized, "you should have…fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't realize."

"It's not like you can fix anything," you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, "I am what I am and I don't want to feel like I'm holding you back."

"Fuck that," he shook his head, "I barely deserve you, you're so much…you're everything. I know you don't look like some of those other girls, but so what? You're gorgeous, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I don't want anyone else."

"What if you change your mind one day?"

"I hate to break it to you, but that's never going to happen," he promised, "I love you and that's it. Nothing else matters. If anyone has anything to say, fuck 'em. They don't matter."

"Eddie…"

"Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, holding it out to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it gently and opened. Staring back at you was a beautiful diamond ring. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you looked at him, "yeah. I was, ugh, I was actually planning on asking you before you broke up with me."

"You were going to ask me to marry you?" Your voice cracked as you came to the realization that he really was in it forever. Not that you had any reason to ever doubt him, it was the voices in your head that grew too loud. 

"Yeah," he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion, "I just…I wanted you to know."

"I'm sorry," you closed the box and handed it back to him slowly, "really, Eddie. I went and fucked things up."

"No, you didn't," he promised, touching your cheek, "your feelings are valid. Even though I don't agree with how you've been feeling about yourself. It also makes me mad that those girls, or anyone, would ever say something like that about anyone else. It's immature and just shows their own insecurities."

"Thank you," you put your hand on his wrist and squeezed gently, "you're the best, I hope you know that."

"I do," there was a playful little smile on his face, "because there's this amazing woman that constantly reminds me of that."

"You silly man," you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled, "someone is going to be very lucky to have you one day."

"Yeah, I sure hope so," he snorted in amusement, "and I hope it's you."

"Me?!" 

"Of course," he was beaming at you and it was enough to make your entire body feel like jelly, "did you really think you were just going to get rid of me like that?"

"I should have known better," your heart felt lighter than it had in months, "you're a stubborn man, Eddie Munson."

"Maybe so," he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, "I'm also stubborn enough to think that you might still marry me."

"I think that might be something that could happen," and yeah, you were definitely and madly in love with this man, "its definitely in the cards."

"Hmm," he mused gently, "well, it's getting pretty late…I guess I should get going."

"Stay," you held onto his arm and kept him anchored towards you, "stay."

"Are you sure?" 

"Positive," you nodded, never more sure than anything else, "please."

"I love you, baby. So much."

"I love you too, Eddie. So, so much."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #rockstar!eddie #joseph quinn #plus size reader

[brawltogethernow]

—

L fell over from his customary seated position, died in his nemesis's arms, then came to in his customary seated position.

  He fell over.

  "Richard?" said Wammy, the alias he'd been using four cases ago. "Are you alright?"

  "Watari?" he said dumbly, into the floor. Wammy was dead. He hadn't wanted it to be true, but he had been sure when he saw the data kill switch had been flipped, pieces of information slotting together to form a whole even when he didn't want them to. His own hand had carved him into a device that did this process automatically. It was too late to deny facts.

  "What?" said Wammy like he didn't recognize the Japanese alias.

  L pushed himself up halfway off the ground. "Fuuuuuck this," he said, and fell over again.

⁣

"Why me?" he wondered aloud. "Does this happen to everyone killed by the murder notebooks? I can't investigate an infinite multiverse, Weatherby."

  "Probably not," conceded Wammy. He was currently humoring L gamely. L had been able to provide multiple descriptions of future events that would confirm he wasn't cracking up, but none of them had happened yet. He had never been much of one for keeping track of the date regarding matters where someone could do it for him, which didn't help. Well. Wammy would come around.

  L was humoring himself, too, for now. There was no point assuming his mind wasn't reliable. Using his brain to run diagnostics on itself could wait until it seemed necessary. If he was having an Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge moment it was certainly going on for a very long time.

  He ground his molars against each other. The Kira murders had been supernatural, but clearly guided by a hand that either was mortal or thought the same way. So far, this seemed...random.

  "I don't like this," he informed the room, and incidentally Wammy. His latest sugar cube tower collapsed and split into two factions, one falling into his tea and the other scattering across his desk. Tea sloshed out of its cup in futile pursuit of the desk faction.

  He picked up the teacup by the mostly not sticky handle and sipped it, pursuing the grit at the bottom of its basin. He put it down and but his thumbnail. It was slightly sweet. He needed to wash his hands. He added, "Well. I like it better than being dead."

⁣

He sent the party interested in his current case an e-mail with enough key bullet points of the solution for them to clean up what was left of it themselves, which was more than he felt like doing for a rerun of a case. If he were stuck only rehashing already closed cases he might entertain the theory that this was Hell. But the world was wide, he had only lived a year or so beyond this in the first place, and the Kira case was still open.

  He tried to console himself that Light Yagami possessed one of the most ruthlessly brilliant minds L had ever encountered. This did not make him feel any better about being beaten by a fucking child. L was an extremely petty man about things like that.

  (He had been a worse minor. If he had been eighteen as well when faced with such an infuriating suspect, he would probably have been the one instigating physical altercations. He would have broken Light's perfect nose instead of playing around with him, and then maybe he wouldn't be undead.)

  He gnawed his thumbnail, brain too itchy to be content just pressing it against his bottom lip where he could usually stop. He knew on one level of thought he was risking ending up with sore and bloody cuticles, but it was not the level primarily in charge of his teeth and hands when he was stressed. Was he stressed? Extremely, yes. But should he have been? His life wasn't even in danger, nor was Wammy's. Kira hadn't claimed his first kill yet, probably hadn't acquired his weapon, that awful, intriguing, unassuming notebook. And when he did, L could just...

  L didn't even have to do anything. He could just ignore it, and stay ensconced in whatever HQ he chose. Name unrecorded, face unknown, existence not relevant to Light Yagami's twisted morals. He already knew all the key mechanics of Kira. The method, the means—he was sure he'd already known the why. He had all the answers he wanted. Light had given him his answers.

  His true face... It was all the confession L had needed. An honor, even.

  Ha!

  L didn't need anyone's sanction to solve the Kira problem, either. He could steal the notebook. He could hire a hitman.

  Dull pain and the taste of blood alerted him that he'd bitten through his thumb.

  He popped it into his mouth to keep blood off his keyboard. No, he didn't want to kill Light Yagami. He probably should kill Light Yagami, but he didn't want to. He wanted to... To...

⁣

Of the many casualties of the Kira case, there was no one he cared to intervene for he hadn't led to danger with his own hand. (Should he have cared more about Beyond? Eh, he'd interfere if Wammy brought it up.) Even Naomi, who he hadn't spoken to in years, should have no reason to return to her home country if L didn't repeat old plays.

  ...He wondered if he was perhaps taking the wrong lessons about treating people as expendable from the situation.

  He tapped his fingers. Naomi. He had liked her.

  He spent an hour at the keys confirming where she was. The sun had set around him, at some point, leaving him in a black room with the monitor a white inferno at the center. Moved to Burbank, engaged, retired. She must be bored out of her mind in an empty room of her own making. No wonder she had died over this case too.

  He hoped it was exciting first. Light had never mentioned her.

  Focusing all of her faculties on her boytoy only for a killer to take him away... She must have gotten very unlucky to have not proved a bigger obstacle.

⁣

After it came clear that L was reporting his experiences accurately (or hallucinating his confidant's confirmations), Wammy sat silently for a subjectively long minute and forty-seven seconds.

  "What is it like?" he asked at last. "Dying."

  "I don't know, I was kind of distracted," L deflected, because this is true.

  Wammy gave him a blank yet communicative look.

  L bit down on his other, less raw thumb. Why hadn't Wammy come back with him, possessed of his own experience to draw on? Was there another Wammy, elsewhere, who has gone back alone?

  Could it be he really didn't die? No. L was sure.

  Kira had done that, but even spider-scrabbling blunted fingertips at the bottom recesses of the linty pockets of his heart, L couldn't find it in himself to feel too righteously indignant. L was the one who had wanted to win badly enough he'd anted up his allies in their game. He had been cocky. He had been too cavalier.

  "Frustrating," he answered. "Like when you can't stay awake even though you're in the middle of a project."

  The brain, whirling determinedly away even as it stopped receiving fresh blood, as the vision narrowed down to a thin line, a screen shutting off uncaring of whether it was the end of the program.

⁣

He researched relevant players he hadn't been aware of at this point. All were transpiring to be about where he'd have plced them.

  The web of events was elaborate. But that could have been dream logic. He'd tried, but never gotten the hang of, lucid dreaming. He was not sure he would be truly convinced this was happening until he'd discovered a why.

  He hovered his overful teacup not quite at his lips. Next, he could find a backdoor into the TCPD systems, but...maybe...

  He wormed into Yagami Light's computer instead. After 24 hours of passive data collection this provided him with Souichirou's passwords and how Light concealed he was using them.

  It was very amateur, which was the best way to hack an organization that thought it was going to be hacked by professionals. Casual exploitation of loose security.

  It was child's play on top of this to get a day-old visual on Light. L looked at the security photo and felt a thrill up his spine. Ah, death really didn't change me for the better at all, he thought.

⁣

"What's next in the docket?" asked Wammy, tidying up the workstation they were slated to abandon. (L remained on his computer chair and let this happen around him.) He was content to follow L's lead, even knowing he had led them both to their deaths.

  "I want to find out why I've come back in time, and how," said L. "...But I don't have any leads to speak of."

  "Except young Yagami," concluded Wammy, who was not an unclever man.

  "I don't want to return to the Kira case," L admitted.

  "Completely understandable," said Wammy without judgment. He was not an overly moral man, either.

  L fidgeted. Flopped somewhat. "The Kira case is the most interesting case on the planet right now," he said.

  Wammy waited.

  "But I already know how he kills," L sulked. "And dying kind of hurt."

  Wammy's mouth pursed at this. But he only asked, "What are you planning, L?"

  "I'm going to insert myself," announced L, rising and stepping out of his chair. "What do we have in liquid assets right now?"

  "What will this be put toward?" inquired Wammy.

  L rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and thought about it, chewing his lip. "Shenanigans," he declared.

  He realized he had forgotten a social step and stopped his creep for the exit. He swiveled his head around. "Though Weatherby, if you want to return to the school for a year or two, or perhaps go on vacation—"

  "I'll go where you go," interrupted Wammy, chilly.

  L pursed his lips, finding now he'd began it that this was not the perfunctory check-in he'd taken it for. He said, "I would prefer if you didn't die."

  Wammy sighed. "A similar sentiment is why I will accompany you."

  L turned back around. "I see," he said, nodding. "Emotional blackmail."

  "This time I trust you to take the appropriate precautions," said Wammy.

  "Ugh," said L. "You're no fun."

⁣

To enact his very ingenious and only partially driven by general doubt in reality and spite scheme, L got a job at a pastry chain in Tokyo.

  After less than a single afternoon, the manager deemed L unfit to serve customers (this was correct), so he was shuffled onto glazing duty. He accepted this without complain as, due to the pop-up-cum-cart-style layout of the establishment, this still allowed him a clear view of anyone patronizing the establishment. Moreover, he did not especially want to serve customers.

  He despised the thin plastic sanitation gloves, which felt like rather than protecting his hands they moved the barrier of contaminated flesh up to his wrists, oils creeping and substances splashing upwards, until he wanted to decontaminate his arms up to the elbows and down to the bone.

   It's for the case, he told himself even though there was no case, not really. It was the same process of steeling himself to put discomfort aside for a greater cause.

  The greater cause this time was just bullying Yagami Light.

  This is a cinnamon roll of great justice, he told himself, then held it up to eye level and examined it, debating whether to eat half of it in front of his manager. For great justice.

⁣

His fingers twitched. He solved cold cases from his backlog and sent in tips about them thumb-typed on a PDA on his lunch breaks. He was so understimulated he contemplated playing some stocks, which he was trying to cut back on. He had more money than one person could ever need and than he had any inclination to redistribute responsibly, and also he acclimated to them the way some people did to pachinko.

⁣

The manager sat him down. "I have been informed I can't fire you," he said.

  "Yes," said L, who had purchased the chain before applying for the job.

  "But I want to," said his manager, like it was important L knew.

  "That's fine," said L. He pulled an industrial tub of cold icing over, stuck one finger into it, and licked it.

  The manager's mouth flexed murderously. L entertained himself briefly by imagining this scheme if Light was his manager.

⁣

When Light finally walked in, L had been shuffled back to cashier duty to get him to stop licking the donut icing, where he would remain until customer satisfaction dropped untenably low. With a pull that was gravity-inevitable, they locked eyes across the room, and a realization was clear to L at once:

  He's bored again.

  Without anyone challenging to oppose him, Kira was already getting bored. A smile spread like an ocean oil slick over L's face. Or perhaps like the mysterious and ever-widening sticky spot under the second stove that no one could seem to mop up.

  Everything was falling in line with his loftiest expectations. Light would crawl on his knees right to L. He didn't realize it, but he was desperate.

  And L would lead this insufferable man, in his supplication, right through the mystery floor goo.

  L favored Light with his (he was told) very unsettling customer service smile. "Welcome to Cinnabon," he said.

—

AO3

#death note #fic #w #l lawliet #cinnabon au #how do you spell..........how do you spell the baseball video game one. #quillish wammy #quillsh wammy #EACH VARIANT WORSE THAN THE LAST

[angelkissiies]

tiny surprises

abby anderson x reader

cw : threesome , owen , best friends turned lesbians , probably so much more.

wc : 3.1K

a / n : HAPPY OWEN SLANDER SUNDAY ANGELS ,, ENJOY !

“You came.” Abby breathed, hovering in front of the door, her muscled form blocking all view of the inside. Her eyes were soaking you in, from the tiny shorts to the large black t-shirt she recognized as one of her own, the sight alone was enough to make her want to jump your bones right here right now. 

You nodded, face heating up from the weight in her stare, shifting on your heels as you clutched your bag in front of you. “Of course,” You hummed, tongue darting out to moisten your lips. It was no secret that the two of you had something else going on, though neither of you’d ever acted on it, that was until now. It seemed like a joke at first, the idea of Owen proposing a threesome with a girl he KNEW his girlfriend wanted to fuck, but alas it was true– him going as far as to offer to do it at your place. You vehemently denied, wanting to keep the essence of him away from your place. “Why wouldn’t I?’ 

A smirk pulled at the lips of the blonde, opening the door wider to allow you to come in, never letting her gaze falter– eating up every glimpse she could get of the lace outline underneath your clothes. Right now, she felt no better than a man. “Owen,” She called out behind you as you pushed into the apartment, letting the door click closed before sliding the lock back in place. “She’s here.”

The sound of his name made you shift uncomfortably, considering the fact that you’d only ever slept with women up to this point– this was going to be the first time you’d even seen a man, let alone sleep with one. Owen wasn’t the worst-looking guy, having seen infected for so long you’d grown to normalize weird-looking things, so you were hoping this experience wouldn’t be the worst– which there's no way it would be a total loss, seeing as Abby was there. “You look really, uh, nice.” You managed, watching her pass you, her body clad in a tight black sports bra and matching gym shorts– a combination you’d seen many times before. 

Owen popped into the room before she had a chance to respond, his hair wet and clothes completely gone. A white towel was wrapped around his waist, shielding your eyes from his naked body. He had a goofy smile on his face, looking between Abby and yourself. “Hey,” He began, sitting on the edge of their shared bed, beckoning the two of you to come down the stairs. 

Abby took your hand, leading you down to the bed– grabbing your bag to sit aside for you. “You can back out at any time, there will be absolutely no hard feelings, okay?” She hummed, eyes coming level with your own as she took a seat on the bed, next to him. “Do you have a safeword?” 

You came to stand between her legs, her hands drawing you in, nodding slowly. “It’s mercy,” You glanced between the two of them, making sure they could both hear you. “What about you guys? Safewords or just anything I should know before we get started?” The last thing you wanted was for this to go so wrong that someone got hurt, something you’d heard horror stories from Manny about. 

“Safewords, no. We don’t use those.” He spoke, chuckling lightly, before continuing. “And we have a dynamic usually–,” 

The blonde raised her hand to him, shaking her head, the other hand wandering down the expanse of your lower back. “Let’s just.. see how this turns out, okay?” She offered up, coming to toy with the waistband of your shorts, her eyes lapping hungrily at the quiver that had entered your legs. “Go with it and see how it feels.” If she hadn’t been wet before, the harsh contrast of your bodies sent a gush of arousal into her cunt, making her unconsciously clench her thighs together. 

Owen gave her a sharp look, which she promptly ignored, making him huff lightly. He shifted on the bed, using his hands to block the growing erection he’d begun to develop. He’d be lying if he said the way Abby was touching you wasn’t turning him on, her massive hands coming to drag down your body. 

Abby looked up at you, taking in the eager look in your eyes before she came to a stop at the soft curve of your hips. “Tell me you want this.” She spoke, voice heavy, fingers digging into the t-shirt. Your comfort was her biggest concern, glossing over the pulsing in her cunt at the thought of touching you. 

“I want y-,” You stopped yourself, correcting yourself. “This. I want this.” 

Her hands pulled you down onto her lap, legs settling on either side of her muscled thighs, lips chasing yours. It was like a fire had been lit beneath her, the soft contrast of your skin driving her insane– she just needed to touch you, as long as she possibly could. It was a side of the woman that Owen had never seen, watching in awe as you whined into her mouth, hand moving to palm himself through the fluffy fabric of the towel.  

“Shit..” The man hissed, moving his other hand to rest on your thigh, inching closer to the subtle wetness that pooled in your lacy panties. You were still fully clothed, much to his dismay, but that didn’t stop his advances– that was until Abby caught his hand. 

Her heavy gaze fell on him, silently scolding him, before pushing his hand off of you. “Consent, Owen. Did she say yes to you?” She rasped, tilting her head slightly, hand moving to rub the area he had touched gingerly. “Ask her first.” 

Owen rolled his eyes, tearing his gaze from hers with flushing cheeks. “Can I?” He asked, obviously annoyed at the obstruction, his eyes coming to meet your blown ones– gulping at the reaction Abby seemed to draw from you. He felt almost envious, wanting to be the reason you looked like that, but he settled with this for now. “I promise I'll be gentle, baby.”

You took a shaky breath, giving him a small nod, you weren’t excited about the idea of him touching you before Abby had a chance to– but you shook those feelings off, looking back up to the mess of a girl in front of you. You could feel his hand snaking over hers, cupping the clothed wetness of your cunt, making you shudder slightly. 

Abby watched your face, tongue darting out to wet her lips before she leaned forward to press open-mouthed kisses to the edge of your jaw, her hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You have no idea how long I've wanted this.” She hummed, just for you to hear as she hovered near your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” 

You felt his fingers slip past the soft material of your shorts before he pushed further, pushing your panties to the side. You gasped slightly, tempted to move away with how roughly he pushed his fingers against your cunt– using two fingers to rub your labia. “O-oh,” You forced out, pushing your face into the crook of Abby’s neck. “Shit..” You were almost about to laugh, feeling his fingers pick up speed– giving you the equivalent of carpet burn on your poor cunt. 

You felt the girl beneath you’s chest shake lightly with a couple snickers, hiding the noise in the tuft of hair that had fallen in her face. She moved her hand to the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric up to expose the delicate lace of your bra, her fingers grazing over the erect buds poking through the thin material. “Such a pretty girl.” She tutted, pulling the bra down to expose your breasts, sighing contently at the sight. 

Owen halted his movements, using his middle finger to part your folds, feeling around the perimeter of your slit. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He groaned, dipping his hand under his towel to grip his erection– pumping himself greedily before pushing into your cunt. “Abby, your friend is so hot.” 

You burned bright red at the comment, tensing your stomach at the intrusion, trying to loosen up. His fingers were dry, adding undesirable friction to the soft walls of your cunt, but it didn’t seem to phase him– his fingers pushing until they were knuckle deep. A small noise of pain left your mouth as you pushed your face deeper into the skin of the girl's neck, trying to muffle yourself. “Mmh.” You hummed, feeling his hand drag your free one from Abby to himself. He pushed your hand under the towel, your curious fingers landing on the erection he’d been hiding the whole time. 

A sharp gasp left your mouth, causing Abby to whip her head up to see what had happened. Your eyes connected as you jerked your hand away, trying to conceal the laugh that bubbled in your chest at the feeling of his dick. It was beyond what you expected, in the worst way possible, the appendage only being about four inches– hard. 

Owen roughly yanked his fingers from inside you, grimacing at the wetness, standing up quickly to grab his shorts. “You fucking cunt.” He hissed, stomping around the room as he found his clothes. “And you!” He huffed, pointing at Abby. “I can’t freaking believe you, we're so done.” A choked whine left his mouth as he stared at the girl, awaiting her to try to stop him or something.. anything. 

Abby raised an eyebrow, looking over at you, before infectious laughter spilled from her lips– filling the room, much to Owen’s dismay. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, tears of pure joy welling in her eyes. She’d spent so long sucking up to the man, that it just snapped, the truth of him and his short dick finally coming to light. It was autopilot with him, a familiar comfort of her past when all she really wanted was you. Now, she could finally have you– no longer hostage to the man bursting out of the room with tears in his eyes. 

You bit back a laugh, hands coming up to cup her face. “That was soo hot.” You teased, referring to the previous entanglement with Owen, exaggerating your words. “You sure you don’t wanna chase that sex god?” The words dripped with sarcasm, making her roll her eyes at you as she caught her breath, the door slamming loudly. That was something you’d have to explain to Issac later, not that it mattered now. 

She paused for a moment as if to think, before switching the two of you around– your body now pressed firmly to the mattress. She hovered over you, an old firefly dog tag dangling from her neck, dipping down to press a hungry kiss to your lips. “Fuck no,” She chuckled, nails skimming over your clothed stomach– itching to rid you of your clothes. “I have all I need right here.” Her mouth moved down your neck, leaving a trail of spit from your jaw to the sweet spot just below your pulse point– where she stopped only to suck a dark mark onto the sinfully soft flesh. 

“I just came here for you.” You gasped out, the words breaking as you felt her teeth dig into your flesh– biting at your neck. “Only you, Abby.” 

Abby could’ve cum from that statement alone, her hands latching to the hem of your shirt. “Sit up for me, okay, real quick.” Her words were airy, desperate as she craved the warmth of your skin on hers. “Need to touch you.” The draw of her fingers against your skin lit an ache in your cunt, an ache, unlike the one Owen caused. 

You allowed her to strip you of your top, your own hands moving to push your shorts down your legs, kicking them off into the floor. “You meant what you said. Really meant it?” You spoke, shivering in the now cold room, the sun beginning to fall below the horizon. You wanted nothing more than to have her, in every way possible, but something nagged you– begging you to be sure that this was real. 

The blonde nodded, holding her pinky out to you as she held herself up with one hand, eyes dancing over the blissed expression on your face. “I promise you, I mean every word.” Her voice was thick, breath coming out in puffs. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She meant it, every sleepless night being filled with visions of you– despite how guilty it made her. She’d never needed someone quite like she needed you, and yes, she knew that you felt the same way but that didn’t help her in shaking off the man who’d begged to stay together the past couple of years. She was free. Free to indulge in the girl she’d dedicated all of her wet dreams to. 

“No more waiting.” You ignored the pinky, hands latching to the straps of her sports bra– dragging her down to meet your lips. You couldn’t help yourself anymore, the need taking over, hips bucking into her thigh as you urged her to touch you. The self-respect you’d developed over the years crumbled, leaving you a trembling mess as your body begged for her touch, cunt soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. 

She groaned into your mouth, hand coming down to cup the clothed warmth of your cunt, a thick finger coming to trace the small bundle of nerves just beneath the lace. “You’re gonna forget that he ever touched you, I fucking promise.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to the edge of your lips as she pushed her hand under the waistband of your panties, slowly moving to massage the nub. Her hot breath fanned over your neck, making you shudder before she began pressing open-mouthed kisses to the welcoming flesh. 

A whimper left your mouth, tilting your hips up to meet her eager fingers, lips falling open as you felt the pleasure course through your body– her touch gentle as she felt her way around your body. You’d never been touched like this by her, yet, she seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. Her fingers moved with precision, the bumble being victim to her abuse. “F-fuck, Abby–,” You moaned, her name falling from your lips like a prayer, walls clenching around nothing. 

Abby let her fingers slip lower, gently rubbing over your drooling cunt, gathering your slick onto her fingers. It was obscene, the noise she released at the feeling of your puffy slit, her middle finger pushing in gently. Your walls body welcomed her, soaking her finger in wetness as she tested the waters– pulling it out before slowly sliding it back in, feeling the way you clenched around her desperately. “Relax for me, pretty girl.” She breathed, eyes locked onto your scrunched face– her free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, your stomach contracting as you felt her push back into your cunt, the sensation making you jerk your hips toward her. You let your lust-blown eyes land on her, seeing the desperation in her brow. “Need you, Abs. Need you so bad.” You whined, hand coming to grasp at her wrist– trying to grind against the mound of her hand. 

Her ring finger lingered at your slit for a moment before joining her middle, two fingers burying themselves in your heat. “I know, I know.” She nodded, chewing on her lip slightly as she began thrusting the thick digits in and out of your drooling cunt– pornographic wet noises filling the room as she drove them deeper than you’d ever felt someone go. “Good girl.” 

The noises made heat creep up your neck, embarrassing yourself with how wet you’d managed to get for your best friend. You were pathetically hers, whether you were ready to admit it or not. You both already knew, with the way you cried for her fingers, there was nobody else to make her feel so cunt drunk– the noises falling from your lips enough to make her soak through her boxers. “Please, fuck, fuck.” You hissed, fighting against the growing tightness in your stomach. You didn’t want the feeling to end, her digits filling you up in the most delicious way, but you couldn’t help the pulsing in your walls in response to her fingers curling in and out of your sensitive cunt. 

Abby picked up her pace, chasing your orgasm, her free hand moving to pull the fabric of your bra down– exposing your breasts to the harsh air. “We have all night, pretty.” She reminded, making your hips release some tension, realizing you could continue for as long as the two of you wanted. No interruptions. Her head dipped down to your chest, taking one of the erect buds in her mouth, using her teeth to pull gently. 

A squeaky moan left your mouth, back arching slightly, legs beginning to tremble under the pressure. Oh god, oh god, oh god. It was chanted like a prayer, the growing tightness making your hips retract from her– though that didn’t last long, her free hand moving to hold your hips in place, leaving you to submit to the slamming of her fingers in and out of your cunt. It was all so much, your thoughts blurring at the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through your body, heavy moans spilling from your parted lips as your walls contracted around her– the sudden euphoria washing over you, soaking her hand in a gush of liquid. 

“Oh goddamn.” 

The bed beneath the two of you was drenched in liquid, making you whine in embarrassment. “M’sorry, fuck-,” You began, moving a hand to cover your face before Abby grabbed your wrist– pulling it down to rest by your side, promptly cutting you off. 

She shook her head at you, a blissed-out smile on her lips as she dipped down to kiss you, now with a softness reserved for you. “Never apologize, that was hot as fuck.” She chuckled, her fingers slowly inching out of your swollen cunt, wiping them off on her now sweaty gym shorts. “I can’t fucking believe it took me this long to do this, I don’t think I’m ever gonna be able to stop.” She admitted, lifting herself off of you to grab some things to make you more comfortable. 

You followed her movements, body still trembling as you met her at the edge of the bed, looking up at her as she grabbed for your bag– digging through it for new clothes. “Does this mean–?” You trailed off, eyes hovering on her veiny forearms for a moment before meeting her eyes. 

“I’m yours,” Abby stated, simply, sitting your bag down– deciding to grab you some of hers instead. “You’re mine.”

“Swear?”

“Swear.” 

#Owen Slander Sunday #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #x reader #abby anderson ff #misc #tlou #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us 2 #hbo the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us hbo #abby x reader

[clangenrising]

Month 11 - Leafbare

Aldertail’s legs were more raw than they had been in a long time. She knew she shouldn’t lick them, she knew it wasn’t right, but every time she thought about the news - that another house cat was dead - she fell into a panic and the only thing that seemed to help was going over her pelt a few more times. Now not only her front legs but her hind legs and her back had patches of missing fur that grew dry and raw in the arid air of Leafbare. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Oddstripe fretted as he examined her new sores. “We’ll have you feeling better soon enough.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding very still, “I just can’t stop myself. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“You’re sick,” grumbled Sagetooth. “It’s not a failing to cough when you’re ill. That’s all this is.” She snapped a root in half and began to chew it into a poultice. Aldertail recognized the smell as burdock, one of the several treatments she’d been given for her sores before. 

“I don’t feel sick,” she said dumbly. 

“Remember, sweetheart,” Oddstripe said gently and Aldertail blushed, “ it’s not a sickness you feel, it’s a sickness in your mind.” 

“Right…” she frowned. Maybe that was the reason she’d been marked as Chaff. The Folk could tell that her mind was broken. What use was a cat with a broken mind? Sagetooth spat the burdock mixture out with a grimace and pushed the leaf it was on over to Oddstripe, then fixed Aldertail with a scowl that made her want to squirm. 

“Look at me,” she said. Aldertail sat up straighter and nodded. Sagetooth continued, “I’ll have no more moping about this, you understand? It’s not your fault you’re sick. You’re not bad for being ill. In fact, if you’re sick for the rest of your life, that would be fine. Do you understand?” 

Aldertail nodded instinctively. “I-I think so?” 

Sagetooth gave a dissatisfied “Hmph!” and continued to stare her down. 

“Oh, I think your tone is maybe confusing her, Sagetooth,” Oddstripe said, taking Aldertail’s leg in one paw so he could spread poultice up her leg. Once he had his bearings, he looked up to meet her gaze with a soft smile. “You’re not in trouble. What Sagetooth is trying to say is this is normal and it’s okay if you’re sick because that doesn’t change how much we care about you.” Sagetooth grumbled but didn’t contradict him, instead wandering off into the back of the den. Aldertail glanced in her direction, then back to Oddstripe, then down at the ground. She didn’t know why such a kindly stare made her feel so miserable. 

Oddstripe sighed slightly but continued to apply the poultice. “Have you been extra worried lately?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said, glancing back up. “Aren’t you?”

Oddstripe’s lips flattened into a thin line for a moment and he glanced over his shoulder in Sagetooth’s direction. “I am worried about my boys, I’ll admit. But I have a feeling that’s not why you’re worried.” 

“I just…” Aldertail shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could groom her legs. “We’re all going to die. Me especially.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Oddstripe said. 

“Your warriors killed one of the Exalted!” Aldertail hissed fearfully. “They killed my brother for doing the same thing. And his mate. And my sister. And they wanted to kill me. Razor won’t stop until all of us are punished!” Oddstripe shifted uncomfortably, looking solemn. 

He sighed, switched to her other leg, and said, “That is a frightening thought, but I have faith in Goldenstar to keep us safe. StarClan will look out for us.” 

“StarClan…” Aldertail repeated. “Remind me which one that is?” She tried to picture the cats who had rallied in their camp the week before.

“StarClan are the spirits of the dead,” Oddstripe smiled down at his work. “They know things we can’t and they guide us from the stars.”

“So, magic?” asked Aldertail. 

“Yes,” Oddstripe nodded with a little laugh. “This time it really is magic.” 

Aldertail considered that. As powerful as the Folk were, they didn’t share their power with cats, at least not outside of social power. If the Clans had magic on their side, maybe there was a chance they could defeat Razor.

“Can they help us fight?” she asked.

“They rarely help in such a physical way,” Sagetooth said, stomping back over to them with a bundle of thyme leaves in her jaws. “Instead, they give us guidance and help us make the choices that lead to victory. For instance, they told us to attack on the night of the snow storm and in doing so we drove the rogues out and they haven’t returned since.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re not coming back,” Aldertail whined. “Has StarClan said anything else? Have they told you what to do?” The idea felt like something sturdy to hold onto, the idea that magic ghosts could give them all of the answers. If they just did what StarClan said, maybe everything would be alright.

“Not yet,” Sagetooth said. “But they will, in time.” She started separating the bundle of thyme into two piles. 

“Can we ask them?” Aldertail said as Oddstripe moved on to her back. “There’s a way to talk to them, isn’t there?”

“There is,” Sagetooth said, “but we can’t just demand they give us all the answers. Part of the test is making choices for ourselves.” 

“The test?” Aldertail squeaked. She hadn’t known she was being tested!

“The test of life,” Sagetooth clarified. “What would be the point of living if someone just gave us all the answers?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Aldertail shrugged. “Finding peace?” 

“Finding peace wouldn’t be meaningful without chaos,” Sagetooth shook her head. “Joy wouldn’t exist without pain. StarClan gives us trials and misfortunes so we can learn from them and fully appreciate the blessings in our lives.” 

“Okay, sorry,” Aldertail mumbled, realizing she had been speaking out of turn. 

“It’s fine,” Sagetooth sighed. “You’re learning. Now here, chew these for as long as you can before swallowing.” She pushed a bundle of thyme towards Aldertail who took a deep breath of the aromatic scent. It seemed to grab her and pull her thoughts into focus for a moment. Obediently, she leaned down, took the leaves into her mouth, and focused on chewing them as finely as she could. As she did, she started to feel her breath coming easier and her mind clearing. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled around her mouthful.

“Happy to help, dear,” Sagetooth said, offering a rare smile. Aldertail closed her eyes and focused on the herbs, on their smell and the texture of the leaves as it changed between her teeth. By the time Oddstripe was nearly finished with her hind legs, she swallowed and took a deep breath, the smell of thyme still thick on her tongue. 

“Good girl,” Sagetooth nodded. “Now, the burdock root should start numbing your sores soon enough. Be careful not to lick it off or your tongue might go numb too. Besides, you’ll get a stomach ache if you ingest too much of it.” 

Aldertail paled a little. “I’ll try,” she said weakly. That was going to be tricky.

“Oh,” Oddstripe frowned. “We can put cobwebs over them if necessary.” 

“No,” Sagetooth said firmly. “That’s a waste of supplies and who knows, a numb tongue might get her to finally kick the habit.” Oddstripe met Aldertail’s eyes sympathetically. Aldertail nodded, offering a smile as best she could. It was like a punishment. If she messed up and licked her legs, she’d get a nasty surprise and, hopefully, that would teach her a lesson. That felt right. 

“You’re good to go,” Sagetooth said, bundling up the rest of the thyme. “Keep your tongue away from your legs, you hear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Aldertail nodded. 

“You can get someone to help you groom your pelt if that helps,” continued Sagetooth.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Oddstripe said. “Let me know if you ever need help with that, okay?” 

“Alright,” Aldertail nodded again and stood to leave. As she did, her tail brushed up against something feather light and startled her. She turned around, fur bristling, to find a dead moth. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” Oddstripe said, “Barleypaw brought me that this morning. I’m not sure what to do with it, to be honest.” 

“You can’t just leave it around,” Sagetooth huffed. “Just get rid of it. She’ll never know.” 

“It’s so pretty though,” Aldertail said, tilting her head to admire the little trinket. 

“Here!” Oddstripe said, reaching towards the moth. Very carefully, he pulled the wings from the moth and then reached up to tuck them behind one of Aldertail’s ears. She blushed again, holding very still as he did, then tried to look at them without turning her head which proved impossible. 

“I saw Blazingbrush wearing cicada wings like that,” he said. “She’s one of the other healers.” Sagetooth huffed under her breath as she headed back to return the thyme to the stores. 

“Do they look alright?” Aldertail asked, still unable to look at them. 

“Oh, they look beautiful on you,” he said. Aldertail bit her lip and swallowed.

“Um, thank you,” she whispered shyly. 

“Don’t mention it,” purred Oddstripe, seemingly unaware of how he was affecting her. “Let me know if you need me to help you groom your pelt okay?” She nodded mutely and he turned and went back into the den with a little smile. 

Aldertail headed out into the snow. He had called her beautiful. No one had ever called her beautiful before, at least not genuinely like that. She decided she needed to find a reflection and see for herself. As she headed out of camp, Branchbark and Ospreymask passed with mouths full of fish and smiled in her direction.

“Aldertail!” Ospreymask squealed, dropping her catch. “I love the moth wings!” 

“Really?” she asked, blushing again. 

“Yes! Oh my stars, you look amazing sweetie!” 

Branchbark chuckled and gave a nod of agreement, then pushed the fish Ospreymask had dropped in her direction. She rolled her eyes and picked them up again, the two passing to head towards the fresh-kill pile. 

Aldertail bounded out of camp, feeling all bubbly inside. Was she pretty? She had always assumed that people were lying when they’d complimented her. She knew how she looked, she knew she was ugly and broken and stupid. Or… she had known. Now she wasn’t sure. She quickly made her way over to the closest stream to investigate. As she approached, she held her breath, wanting to believe what they had said was true. 

Her face swam into view in the chilly stream. She let out her breath, disappointed. She was still herself. She still had the same dull brown fur and ugly, scabby legs, the same unflattering wrinkle permanently affixed between her eyebrows. 

The moth wings looked nice though… She tilted her head back and forth, admiring them from different angles. She wasn’t as thin, she realized. Her cheeks had filled out, her pelt hung more neatly on her bones. She was sleeker, even, with a shine to her fur that only Exalted cats seemed to maintain in the city. Maybe, she reasoned, she wasn’t pretty yet, but she wasn’t ugly anymore. 

She smiled, touched by the thought, and decided to go looking for herbs like Oddstripe had taught her. She needed to thank him for his lovely gift.

UPDATES:

- Aldertail starts wearing moth wings behind her ear.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #Aldertail #Oddstripe #Sagetooth #Leafbare #clangenrising

[southpawbitch]

One More Night | Jake Seresin x Reader

(18+, minors dni)

word count: 3.1k

summary: a surprise wedding forces you and jake to pretend like everything is fine

warnings: drinking (that's mostly it), mention of parental death, aruguing, this is...sad

A/N: my first one shot!!! how?? idk. I have so many of these sitting in my google drive, so I'm going to start making my way thru them. pls let me know what you think :) x MJ

You have your whole speech planned out, running over it in your head again and again as you wait at the bar of your favorite spot for after work drinks with Nat, the best friend and coworker you could’ve ever asked for when you were first stationed here a while back. So much has changed since then–you, mainly. You were so young when you arrived here, and so full of optimism. You knew what you wanted out of life, and you were determined to get it. Meeting Jake was the cream cheese icing on top of it all–your favorite. Despite his hard exterior and asshole tendencies, he warmed up to you immediately. The teasing nicknames and playful jabs turned into inside jokes and private chats away from the rest of the group, which turned into something you had only ever dreamed of. You’re not sure which one of you fell in love first, but you’re certain you fell harder. Five years later, and it’s hard to even recognize who the two of you are anymore. Somewhere along the way you must have turned into someone new. 

You pick up the glass sitting in front of the seat you’ve saved for her, downing it as fast as you possibly can. You’ve been waiting for longer than usual, and you’re anxious as hell to tell her the news. Your palms are so sweaty that you had to ask the bartender for extra napkins just to keep them dry enough for the glass to not slip out of your hands. You tap the screen of your phone that lays face up. It’s fifteen minutes past when she said she’d be here. You have a plethora of notifications. You haven’t opened your work friends group chat since Monday. In fact, you’ve barely done anything outside of work until today. You go to base in the mornings and get all your tasks for the day completed before you drive back to your empty house, drink half a bottle of wine, and fall asleep on the sofa. Your neck should ache from the awkward position you find yourself in every morning, but you’re too numb to feel anything–even the buzz from the two cocktails you’ve had in the past twenty minutes. 

 A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You turn slowly, preparing yourself for the conversation you know you’re about to have with her, but instead of coming face to face with just one person, you’re met with two. Nat and Javy are grinning from ear to ear, bouncing on their feet and clinging to each other.

“We’re engaged!” She squeals, throwing her left hand out towards you. You clumsily grab onto her hand, staring at the rock on her ring finger as your mind spins. You’re happy for her, completely and utterly happy for her, but your life as you knew it just last week is now crumbling down around you. Tears prick at your eyes, and you attempt to hide the sadness in your voice. 

“It’s beautiful, oh my god, guys!” You push off the stool and wrap your arms around Nat’s neck. “I’m so happy for you.” You pull away with your best fake smile and teary eyes. She’s having the same reaction now. You’ve never seen her happier, which takes some of the weight off your shoulders. She’s too happy to notice the two empty glasses sitting on the counter next to you or your bleeding nail beds from days of anxious picking. She can’t tell that your hair pulled back into a claw clip is greasy because you haven’t had the energy to wash it for the past few days, or that the small locket you used to wear around your neck isn’t there anymore. 

“Do you want to get a table or–”

“We can’t wait!” Nat blurts out, looking up at Javy with a grin that’s practically stretching across her whole face. “We’re flying to Vegas tonight, and Jake is already in the car. Let’s go!” She leans over and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards the doors before you can even react. Jake’s dark gray Jeep is sitting right outside the building. Nat lets go of your hand to slide in the back seat with Javy, leaving you to take your spot up front. You take a breath and open the door, avoiding eye contact as you settle into the seat and buckle up. The last time you were in his car was last Friday after a particularly wonderful dinner. You felt great after having a few glasses of wine, just tipsy enough to be talking nonstop on the way home.

“I saw that blue house on Laurel is for sale. Maybe we could go to the open house on Sunday.” You suggest, smiling softly as you turn your head to face Jake as he’s driving. Your head is leaned up against the headrest lazily. He keeps his gaze on the road ahead. It’s dark, so you can’t see much except the outline of his features. 

“All the way out in Escondido?” He questions, furrowing his brow as if he doesn’t remember the beautiful home out in the suburbs that reminds you of your childhood home on Cape Cod. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you stumbled across the gorgeous house with East Coast architecture last year. You decided then that it had to be yours. The pictures on Zillow of the interior are incredible, too. Four bedrooms, a spacious kitchen, and the most luscious, tree-filled yard that you’ve ever seen in Southern California. It’s perfect.

“Yeah, you know the one that looks like the beach house.” You remind him. Jake’s been to your parents’ place a few times, but you don’t get out there often. You’ve only been to his parents’ ranch in Texas one singular time in the five years you’ve been dating. Everyone’s just so busy with their own things. His sisters have kids and his parents go on more vacations in a year than you’ve been on in your entire life. Everyone’s happy, it seems, and the two of you are satisfied with your life out here. 

“We can’t buy a house, babe.” He looks over and sees your small pout. It’s cute, but he’s firm in his thoughts on the topic. “Because, okay, what…we buy a house, and then we get married, and have kids and turn into those people we never wanted to be.” His words cut a little too deep. When you first got together, sure, you thought that way. You hated what everyone turned into once they got married and had kids and other commitments. You two never wanted to be boring. You’re the couple that’s closing down the bar every Saturday night and pregaming work parties–not the kind of couple that doesn’t want to get out once they’re already at home. In fact, you’re barely at your condo as it is. 

But somewhere along the way you changed your mind, and you thought that maybe he’d had done the same.

“We don’t have to turn into those people, but we’re not getting any younger, Jake, and my biological clock is unfortunately ticking.” You sigh, turning your head to look out the window instead of at him. “I know I’ve never really cared about having kids, but I don’t know…I think I want them with you.”

Jake’s silence is more than enough to tell you that he doesn’t feel the same–that he hasn’t changed his mind at all. A tear falls down your cheek as the drive back to your shared condo continues. The realization that you want different things hits you hard. You and Jake have never been ones to fight. There won’t be any screaming or arguing or blaming. It almost makes it worse–that there’s nothing worth fighting for. That maybe you aren’t worth fighting for.

You cry the whole way home and he knows. He knows it’s over. He also knows he’s not going to change his mind, and he doesn’t expect you to, either. He feels a little blindsighted by your confession, but he knows he should’ve seen it coming. You’re always on Zillow, looking at houses that have been put up for sale in the area, and every time you’re out shopping, you’ll point out how tiny and cute the baby clothes are. You’ve been changing slowly but surely over the past year since your father passed away, but Jake’s own family issues are what made up his mind about marriage and kids many years ago–before he even met you. Before he fell in love with you. Before he would’ve done anything and everything to make you happy, but he knows he can’t do this. It’s just not a promise he can make. 

Two hours later, you’re standing next to Jake in a short, black dress, holding a small bouquet of tulips from the flower shop next door. He’s wearing black pants and a white shirt. His hands are tucked in his pockets as the two of you stand off to the side while Nat and Javy exchange vows. They’re both teary-eyed and giggly and you remember being that happy with Jake not that long ago.

When you first met them, they would hardly speak to each other, but over time, much like you and Jake, they became one. Nat never thought she’d ever get into anything serious, especially with a coworker, but Javy rocked her world for the better. The two of them claim they have you and Jake to thank for the night that everything changed for them. The two of you threw a Halloween party for all your friends the first year you two lived together, and you may or may not have locked them outside to “make up” after a stupid argument over the game of beer pong that was being played. Maybe it was the full moon or the tight outfit that Nat was wearing, but Javy confessed that he had feelings for her, and well, the rest is history. 

They’re holding hands and staring at each other with complete and utter adoration–they haven’t looked over at you or Jake once the entire time. They’re so in love. It makes you wonder how long it’s been since Jake has felt that way towards you. The way he stands next to you now is cold, as if you’re two strangers who don’t know a thing about each other, despite having lived together up until a week ago.

When Javy and Nat kiss, you feel a genuine smile spread across your face, clapping along with the officiant, and Jake, as they pull away and make their way over to you. The chapel photographer is snapping pics like crazy and before you know it, Nat is forcing you and Jake to embrace each other for a picture. His arm snakes around your waist, resting on the top of your thigh and pulling you close. You lean in, take a deep breath, smile, and just as quickly as his arm was around you, it’s gone.

“How are you doing?” He asks casually as the two of you stand at the bar together on a joint mission to order drinks and shots while Nat and Javy grope each other in the booth. He knows you could be doing better. When he walked in the house for the first time in almost a week, it felt different. Stained wine glasses and empty bottles were sitting on the coffee table, and the fuzzy blanket you only get out of storage for the holidays was thrown across the couch haphazardly. While you were changing into your dress, he opened the fridge to find it empty. His favorite beers were really the only thing in there. 

He walked into the bedroom and stared at the half-made bed curiously. It looked the exact same as it did when he was in here packing a bag of things to take to the hotel last Saturday–almost like you haven’t been sleeping in it. You stepped out of the closet in his favorite dress of yours. The one you wore for your most recent anniversary dinner. You walked past him without saying a word, and he followed you back out to the car. Your friends didn’t suspect a thing. 

“We don’t have to do this.” You say, turning your attention towards him. He looks more tired than you originally thought when you saw him earlier. The bags under his eyes tell you he hasn’t been sleeping well. You haven’t been, either. “Not right now, at least.” You say softly, turning to look at your friends over in the corner. Jake follows your gaze and lets out a sigh, not that you can hear it in this rowdy bar. “You take those, I’ll wait for the shots.” You instruct, pushing the drinks over to him. He doesn’t want to argue, so he nods his head and takes them back to the table while you wait.

“We have something to tell you guys.” Javy says nervously after all the alcohol has been consumed and you’re uncomfortably leaning on Jake in an attempt to act like you’re still together. His arm is practically stuck around your shoulder–unmoving. It’s natural for the two of you to fall back into your old habits because it’s only been a week and no one even knows about the break up, but you feel uncomfortable pretending that you’re happy. You feel Jake shift his body and nod his head, urging his friend to keep going. “We’re moving to Virginia Beach.” 

Jake furrows his eyebrows. Javy has been dead set on retiring in Southern California for years. Him and Nat even joked about opening up a surf shop when they’re a little older. 

“I know I always said I’d die in San Diego with you, J.” He smiles down at his wife as she’s looking up to him lovingly. “But Natasha wants to be close to her parents in D.C., and we can’t both get what we want.” He doesn’t sound bitter in the slightest as he speaks. He sounds happy. “We just wanted to let you guys know before we turn in our transfer papers.”

“We’re so glad the two of you came. It’s been such a crazy night, and we don’t want to end on a downer, so…” Nat perks up, standing up from her seat and pulling you out onto the dance floor where a large group of people are dancing. You laugh and smile, hiding the fact that Javy’s words are still burned into your brain. He’s right. You and Jake both can’t get what you want, and maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s the true testament of love–sacrifice. You feel a little lighter as you dance with your best friend, enjoying your time together while you still have it, and when it’s time to part ways in the hotel hallway, you pull Jake into yours quickly, letting the door slam behind you. 

Your lips connect and it feels like the first time all over again. You’re all over each other like it’s been months–like that one time you were sent to Italy for eight weeks, and Jake couldn’t find the time to visit. These past seven days since your breakup has been the longest you’ve spent apart other than those eight weeks. Jake fumbles with his fingers trying to unzip your dress while keeping his lips attached to yours. You can feel the fire and the passion better than you have in months. 

You don’t want this moment to end, but you want to get everything off your chest that you’ve been thinking of since you left the bar. It’s going to eat at you until you do, so you break away from Jake, breathing heavily as you look up to him. You can feel his hard length pressed against your leg, pinning you to the wall. He looks down at you and cocks an eyebrow, wondering if you’re now regretting what the two of you are doing. 

“I don’t want this to be it–I don’t want to lose you. Javy was right, Jake. We can’t both get our way, so if you don’t want the house and the kids, that’s fine. As long as you still want me.” Your voice is hopeful, and you’re surprisingly confident in the proposition you’re suggesting. You want Jake. The guy you’ve loved for five years, and the only person you ever want to love like this at all. You’re more than willing to give everything else up for a life with him. 

“Oh.” Jake moves his hand from your hip to your cheek and shakes his head. “I can’t let you do that, baby.” He says sadly. “I’d never forgive myself if I took that away from you. You deserve to have all of the things you want, and I just can’t give those to you.” Your heart breaks all over again. His soul-crushing words move through you slowly and powerfully. You’re back in the passenger seat of his car, crying on the way home from dinner. He’d rather not be with you at all. Tears prick at your eyes, but you will them to stay put. 

“I just want you, Jake. You’re all I want.” 

“No, I’m not.” He takes a step back and rubs his temple with his fingers. He’s trying to hold it together, he is. You’re just making it so hard. “You want the house and the kids and the marriage. You won’t be happy with me.” He’s trying to reason with you. He loves you tremendously. He has never been happier, but he knows what it’s like to grow up with parents who didn’t care whether or not they had kids. Parents who barely call, even when it’s his birthday. Parents who go on vacations instead of spending the holidays with the family they created. He worries that if you stay together and have a kid, he’s going to be that kind of parent. Distant and cold. As much as he loves you, he fears for being a failure as a spouse and a parent like it’s something that’s ingrained into his DNA. It’ll be better for everyone if he ends things now. 

You don’t respond. You’re too hurt. You feel like screaming and crying and pitching an absolute fit, but you know Jake won’t respond well to that. It’ll push him further away than he already is. You’ve already lost him. The two of you stand in silence for a minute before he takes a step back, tucking part of his shirt back into his pants.

“I think I’m going to get a separate room.” And then he opens the door and leaves, letting it slam shut behind him. You slide down the wall and cry all night, thinking about how the happiest day for your best friends is always going to remind you of your worst. 

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