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lvis44 · 11 months

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Sweet Escape - Pt.5 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Derogatory Language, 18+ (mentions of sexual acts and dirty talk), Physical Violence, Jealousy, Toxicity, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Mentions of Forced Sexual Contact (only alluded to, not done, no S/A), Not Edited

Word Count: 5.7k+

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: My sincerest apologies for the wait and thank you all for your patience. If you thought we had drama before hand, welcome to the rodeo, it's only gotten worse. Get ready to hate Lewis a bit, but it's well deserved. I will try to get the next part up this week, hopefully before race weekend really kicks off!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

“Can we talk?”

Those words have been rattling around in your head for almost a day now, ready to burst out of you at a moment's notice but never surfacing. Lewis hasn’t approached you and you almost didn’t expect him to, he’s been acting relatively normal for the last day. It’s been more than twenty four hours since everyone went on the hike and he’s been acting as if everything is completely fine. You gave him an olive branch and he grew a tree. You didn’t even really mean to give him the room that you had, it just felt so natural, so carefree. You could tell Charlotte has been concerned, keeping an eye on you at all times, even if from a distance. Her energy is the only thing in the house that truly seems off. You and Lewis may not be interacting exactly how you normally would, but there’s no hostility, no particular avoidance of each other. There’s almost part of you that wants to throw everything out the window and just let yourselves exist in this space, whatever it may be. The other part of you was worried that this was a survival tactic on both of your parts, just trying to get through vacation and in the end it would all come crashing down around you. You couldn’t let that happen.

You were lounging out by the pool, book in hand and a margarita nearby. The sun was warming your skin perfectly and you felt completely at peace, putting everything to the side as you engrossed yourself in the crime novel in front of you.

“You’re getting rather toasty.” You heard his voice come from next to you.

You looked up to find Lewis standing just above you, an accusatory raised brow, knowing you hadn’t applied sunblock in the last few hours. You noticed the spray can in his hand and huffed, you knew that if he’s finally acting normal with you, he would insist on you seeking shade or putting on more sunscreen.

“Fine.” You deadpanned, reaching out for the bottle as you stood up, stepping away from him in hopes of not suffocating him with sunscreen.

You could feel his eyes on you the entire time, not in the way they usually would be though. This stare wasn’t to unabashedly check you out, his eyes weren’t undressing you the way they may have in the past. This stare was gauging you, he was trying to look through your skull and into your brain, desperately attempting to read every thought you had on him in that moment. You knew he wouldn’t be able to read you that easily, not when you didn’t even know what your own thoughts were.

You finished applying your sunscreen turning back toward him, he quickly glanced away from you before finally making eye contact, trying to hide his previous gaze. It was no use, you already knew.

“All good?” He asked you as you handed him the bottle, once again his question was not in the context of the moment. He was asking a million different things with only two words. You didn’t know how to respond, simply settling for a small “Thanks” before returning to your seat and picking your book up once more.

Before you fell back into your story, you noticed Charlotte send Lewis a look of warning from where she sat across the patio. You assumed she had spoken to him, he was evidently aware that she knew of the situation. Miles seemed to be picking up on the unspoken energy as well, frequently checking on you out of the corner of his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.

As the sun began to set it was decided that the evening would be spent out. Charlotte wanted to dance and it took little convincing of the others. You quickly found yourself dressed in an outfit Charlotte had insisted you wear, an earthy toned dress with a cutout just above your belly button and a twist of fabric in between your breasts. You felt good, it hugged every curve perfectly and was just short enough that it showed off your thighs but still long enough you weren't concerned about flashing anyone. Once you were ready it didn't take long before you were being ushered into a waiting sprinter van. The drive would be incredibly short but none of you trusted yourselves to walk home later in the night, a chauffeur being a much better option. You were admittedly a bit anxious about the evening, knowing what nights out like this could quickly turn into. After a night of drinking and partying, it was rare that Lewis went home alone, but it was even rarer that he was able to keep his hands and attention off of you throughout the night, even when entertaining other company.

Many nights had been spent in dark, sweaty night clubs, everyone dancing, drinking, and laughing. People would usually end up invading your group, always drawn toward Lewis. He rarely turned down the attention, his ego thriving on it. Despite the women that would usually surround him, he always found a way to get to you. Pulling you to the dance floor when a song he knew you liked came on, bringing you drinks when he noticed yours was getting low, pulling you to the side to check if you were okay with attention you had drawn from another man. He always made sure you were okay and having fun, even if he was chatting up a random woman or women in an attempt to not spend his night alone. You had always noted his playboy activities, not really caring but finding them rather amusing. The women he was with never seemed to notice or truly didn’t care, as long as they got their one night with the godlike man. Many times you found yourself dancing with him, possibly closer than you should but he was never disrespectful about it, his hands would always roam but never to a point that you felt like he was truly trying something. You had never really thought anything of it seeing as you would frequently dance with Miles or Daniel too, they were always more reserved but you always chalked it up to personalities. Everyone danced with everyone, it’s how it always worked and it was always fun. Now you found yourself wondering just how your night would play out, how different things would be. He had been acting so comfortably around you recently that you worried he would be the same as always, but at the same time you kind of hoped it would stay the same.

The bar was partially indoors and partially outdoors, a large dance floor spanning from the patio into the open wall leading inside. It was positioned perfectly on the beach, giving a nice view of the moon's reflection off the ocean water. The music was notably louder indoors than it was out and you found yourselves claiming a table on the patio. Lewis and Miles had beelined to the bar, fighting over who was starting the tab as they ordered a round of tequila shots. Lewis seemingly won the argument, making his way to the table with a smug look on his face while Miles followed behind, certainly less amused. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the two men, grown adults who still seemed like teenagers half the time. Miles plopped down next to you, his arm draping over the back of your chair as he leaned back. You hadn’t noticed it at first but he slid a drink in front of you, matching his own.

“You seem like you could use a head start.” He said as he leaned down closer to your ear, making it so only you could hear him.

He pulled back with a large smile, bringing his own drink into the air, leaning it towards yours for a ‘cheers’.

“Here’s to having a fucking blast.” He said to you, everyone else distracted in their own conversation.

You smiled, grateful for his energy as you met his glass with your own before taking a much welcome sip of what turned out to be a Mojito. The shots arrived shortly after, everyone eagerly grabbing them. As everyone met their glasses in the middle of the table Miles once again repeated his toast, much louder this time, being met with hoots and hollers from your friends before downing their shots. You knew it was silly, but in that moment you wanted to freeze time. This was what you had wanted this vacation to be, carefree fun with people you loved. In no time at all Charlotte had pulled you and Miles out onto the floor, jumping and dancing in an uncoordinated way that made the both of you laugh but eventually join her in her antics. You had noticed that Lewis had disappeared indoors, you assumed in search of another drink, but you did your best to ignore it, hoping to just have fun.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you didn’t care, your face hurt from smiling so much and your stomach was tight from laughter. You felt light, a few more drinks in your system loosening you up quite a bit. You had left your friends at the dancefloor, heading to find a bathroom with Steph. The two of you were in a fit of giggles, apologizing as you bumped into other tipsy patrons. Your stomach flipped when you saw him, he had been gone for most of the evening. Lewis was leaning up against the bar, a warm smile and kind eyes directed at the bar tender. You could see the alcohol he had consumed across his face, his eyes lazier than normal but still as charming as ever. The woman he was talking to was absolutely beautiful, an equally warm smile on her own face. They looked familiar with each other, you watched as she reached out to squeeze his hand as she laughed, his face lighting up as well. Your mind wandered back to the night he had disappeared after the blow up with Talia. He had told you that he had gone to a bar nearby, went home with one of the hostesses. You still don’t know what truly happened that night, having heard him tell Charlotte a much different story, one that confused you even more. Was he really already finding someone to sleep with?

“Bitch, you comin’?” Stephs voice pulled you out of your trance, a drunken smile on her face as she waited for you.

“I need some air.” You said quickly, turning around and rushing back out to the patio.

You weren’t looking where you were going, just needing to get out of the room as soon as possible. You only stopped when you crashed into a broad frame, a cold drink running down your chest.

“Fuck.” You yelped. The ice felt like it could sizzle against your hot skin.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” A man's voice rushed out, “you okay? Here let me get some napkins.”

“It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You almost laughed, still looking down to assess the damage to your dress.

When you finally did look up at the man who was now offering you stacks of napkins, you were stunned. He was painfully handsome, tan skin, big brown eyes, and a beautiful smile. You immediately noticed the similarities to Lewis and you wanted to slap yourself for even making the comparison.

“Not that it makes it any better, but it was just Vodka Soda so at least it won’t stain.” He laughed kindly, still handing you napkins, so many more than you needed.

“It’s fine, it cooled me off.” You joke, enjoying the distraction from the beautiful stranger.

“How about I get you a drink to make it up to you?” He offered, still standing rather close to you.

“You know what, I’ll take you up on that.” You laughed again, amused at the turn of events.

Before he could even step away you felt the presence of someone next to you, then a large hand on your back. You turned to see Miles, his eyes assessing you before turning to your new friend.

“We having a good time over here?” Miles asked, his eyes shifting back to you to gauge your response.

“Yeah,” You nodded with a smile, “Miles, this is, um.” You stuttered as you realized you didn’t even know his name yet.

The man laughed, “Jaden.” He stuck his hand out toward Miles, offering a handshake.

“Nice to meet you man, I’m Miles, Y/N’s bodyguard.” He said teasingly as he returned the handshake. You knew he was only half joking and you could tell Jaden was aware as well.

“Good to see she’s got people looking out for her.” Jaden acknowledged, a kind smile on his face.

“Why don’t you guys come join us, we’re just outside.” Miles nodded his head back towards your table where you could see Charlotte and Steph watching the situation.

Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows at you over Miles’ shoulder, mouthing a ‘wow’ as she looked Jaden over. You couldn’t help but giggle, returning your attention to the men in front of you. You knew Miles’ offer was his way of letting you have fun and keeping an eye on you, or moreso keeping an eye on Jaden.

“Sounds good to me, I was just gonna grab Y/N and I some drinks and then I’ll be right over.” Jaden said, nodding eagerly at the idea of spending more time with you.

“I was headed to the bar myself, why don’t I join you.” Miles said before directing his attention back to you, “You wanna go find Char back at the table and we’ll be right over?”

You nodded, smiling at him before telling Jaden you would see him in just a moment. You watched for a second as they got up to the bar, noting how Miles perched himself directly next to Jaden, keeping an eye on your drink like a poppa bear. You smiled to yourself, amused but grateful for how protective he could be. Instead of immediately heading to the table you passed it, stepping out onto the sand and slightly out toward the ocean. The music was quieter and you could hear the ocean better. You let the cool ocean breeze wash over you, grateful for the moment of brief peace. It wasn’t allowed to last long as you heard the familiar accent from behind you, slightly lazy with his words from the alcohol.

“I usually keep your glass full, sorry, I’ve been slacking tonight.” Lewis said, coming to stand beside you with a glass extended in your direction.

When you turned to look at him he had a lazy smirk on his face, once again gesturing the glass toward you to take. You knew it would be a gin and tonic, your favorite.

“It’s been more of a tequila and rum kind of night.” You say, unsure how to reject his offer.

“Really?” Is all he says, an amused tint to his voice.

You're not sure not to navigate this situation with him, unclear if it's the alcohol that is making him act so calm or if it's that he truly thinks everything is back to normal. You don’t have to sit in silence for long as Jaden comes up next to you, just as Lewis is opening his mouth to speak.

“There you are, Miles has your drink back at the table.” Jaden says, coming in rather close to you and placing his hand on your lower back. You feel as if it's a way of making sure Lewis knows that he is your company for the rest of the night, marking territory that isn’t rightfully his. You should, but you don’t brush him off, enjoying the way that Lewis tenses when he sees the action.

“You are?” Lewis asks, a noticeable gruffness to his tone.

“Jaden, Y/N's new friend.” Jaden's smile is cocky, like he can tell Lewis is displeased.

“Well, it sounds like you’re good on drinks then.” Lewis says to you, ignoring Jaden after giving him a once over. His voice is clipped and almost condescending, if you were a worse person you would slap him, but instead you just roll your eyes as he turns on his heel and walks away without another word.

“Who was that?” Jaden asks you once Lewis is out of earshot.

You’re rather amused that he doesn’t know, it’s a rarity that Lewis is unknown but you can’t help but enjoy it.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just an ass.” You say brushing the subject off as you grab his hand and head back toward the table.

When you arrive Lewis is once again nowhere to be seen and you see Miles with two drinks in front of him, the full glass directly in front of his chest, kept close to him.

“For me?” You point at the glass with a giggle.

“For you.” He says with a laugh and a wink, extending the glass to you.

“Come on, let’s go dance.” Jaden says in your ear, gently pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Go have fun.” Charlotte tells you enthusiastically, wiggling her eyebrows at you again. You can’t help but laugh, allowing yourself to be pulled out to the floor.

You let yourself get loose, dancing up against him as his hand without his drink wanders across your stomach, pulling you close to him. You can feel a growing bulge against your ass as you dance with him, allowing him to nibble on your neck as you lean your head against his shoulder. The dance floor begins to crowd, everyone dancing with each other as their drinks kick in. You’ve moved further away from your table now but you can’t bring yourself to care. You catch a glimpse of Lewis out of the corner of your eye, he’s taking another tequila shot, licking the salt off of a blonde woman's neck. You roll your eyes, used to his antics, trying not to let it bother you. You have no right to be bothered, you’re acting just like him. You turn around to face Jaden, resting your arms over his shoulder as you lean in closer, your hips still moving with his. He leans down, placing another kiss to your neck before coming up in front of you, moving in toward your lips. You let him kiss you, there’s no fire, you don’t melt into it, but it feels nice. In the back of your head there’s an annoyance, angered that you're comparing his kiss to Lewis. You break from the kiss, turning back around to continue grinding on him. You hear him groan into your ear and it does nothing to you, you are a little turned on but nothing like Lewis had you in half the time. As the thought crosses your mind you open your eyes and immediately connect with his. Lewis is across the dance floor, a blonde woman dancing on him in a very similar way, but his full attention is on you. His eyes are filled with lust and you want to tell yourself it’s all from the woman grinding on him but you can’t help but feel that’s not entirely true. You don’t know how long he’s been watching you but you know it’s been a while. As you study his face, you see it, anger. You look away from him, turning your attention back to Jaden who is getting more explorative with his hands. This isn’t like you, letting a stranger feel you up in the middle of a club, but you can’t help but feel like you deserve the fun, deserve the thrill. It is vacation after all.

“Fuck babygirl.” Jaden whispers in your ear, his hand squeezing your hip.

He pulls away slightly, downing his drink as you do the same.

“I’ll get another round,” He says over the music, “you stay right here.”

You just nod, carrying on with your dancing. It’s not long before you know Lewis is there. When you turn around, he’s much closer than you expected, his chest almost touching yours. As if he’s allowed to, he grabs your hips, pulling you into him.

“What the hell has gotten into you, hmm?” He asks, his lips coming down to your ear.

He’s guiding you to dance with him, your singular attempt to push him away futile. His body up against yours feels better than it should and you let your alcohol foggy brain enjoy it for a moment. He feels better up against you than Jaden had and you hate it.

“Letting some random man dance with you like that?” He continues, his voice taunting, “Why would you go do something like that when I’m right here?”

He turns you around, pulling you even closer to him so your ass is right against his crotch. You feel it again, that same bulge that you felt the other day in his bedroom, the same one that had you weak in the knees with desire. You do your best to push past it, not wanting to let him win as you realize you already are.

“Because you’re you Lewis.” You sigh out, your voice betraying you as he leans down to nibble on your neck, much the same way Jaden just had. Unfortunately you can’t help but note that the way Lewis does it feels so much better. You try to put some space between you two but his grip is firm.

“What's that supposed to mean? You seemed to be enjoying it when I had you whimpering on my fingers, just think about what my cock would feel like. I would take such good care of you Y/N. I’d make you feel so, so good. Have that pretty pussy creaming all over me, over and over again. And fuck, I just know you taste like heaven, want you soaking my beard, letting me drink you up. You want that?” His rambling into your neck is breathy, working himself up as he talks. You know he’s drunk, can hear it in his voice. You want to push him away but you’re just as drunk and his promises sound like heaven on earth. What you don’t know is the mean game that he’s playing, he knows Jaden can see you, your head on Lewis’ shoulder as he palms at your tit. He’s making sure that Jaden knows you’re his whether you are or not. His ego and his jealousy a raging fire. He licks at your neck reminding you of the women he was with just a moment ago.

“Mmmm, the blonde didn’t work out for you I see.” You taunt him, making sure he’s thoroughly aware you saw him. You know he knows but you feel the need to rub it in.

“I could take her into the bathroom right now if I wanted to and we both know that, but right now I want you.” He groans the end of his sentence into your neck as he pulls you in hard against him.

You fight against everything within you that wants to let him take you home and make good on his promises. You know deep down it's a horrible idea and even what you’ve allowed him to do so far has only worsened the situation, you know you'll regret it in the morning.

“That’s exactly the problem, it’s just right now.” You say as you finally push him away, putting distance between you as you turn around to face him. His eyes are dark and he’s breathing heavy, he looks so painfully turned on that you're half tempted to put him out of his misery, but he made sure you knew that you weren't the only one who could do so.

“No, not just right now, always.” He shakes his head, trying to step towards you again but you back up, your hand in front of you, “I always want you, always have.”

You’re unaware that Jaden had started to make his way back over to you, getting closer by the second, already pissed off by what he just saw.

“We’re not having this conversation when you’re this drunk Lewis.” Your head sobering up a bit at his words, confusion running through your body.

“Baby, please just hear me out.” He pleads with you.

“This isn’t the time or the place for whatever the hell this is. You don’t get to do this just because your horny and want a quick fuck. I’ve seen you with multiple women tonight so don’t come over here and attempt to ruin our friendship.” Your voice is harsh, trying to get your point across.

“Oh so it’s entirely my fault? You let me have you for thirty seconds and then decide that I’m the bad guy when you get just enough? You’re a fucking tease. You could have stopped me the other day, you could have stopped me right now, but instead you indulge, get just enough for a thrill and then tell me I’m an asshole.” His voice is equally as harsh, alcohol induced anger bubbling to the surface.

“Really? You think that’s what I’m doing? Indulging in my best friend taking advantage of me?” Your voice is getting louder now and you notice some heads turning towards you. You know that saying he’s taking advantage of you is harsh and definitely a bit of an exaggeration but it felt the best way to get your point across.

You see his face twinge at the comment before softening, you can see the remorse across his features.

“Is there a problem over here?” Jaden's voice comes from behind you.

You had almost entirely forgotten about him, too distracted by Lewis.

“How about you mind your business man.” Lewis says, looking past you towards the man.

“Well if it involves my girl I think it’s my business.” Jaden says, stepping up behind you.

Lewis’ scoff is loud as you almost laugh, “Your girl?” You both say in unison.

“Fuck off dude, I know you saw how she was dancing with me, your times up, move on.” Lewis continues and you wish you could muzzle him right now.

“Well from the sounds of things she wasn’t particularly enjoying it, and it sounds like that's not the first time.” Jaden says, stepping in front of you slightly.

“It’s not like that, it came out wrong.” You try your best to reason with Jaden, grabbing his arm in an attempt to stop him from moving any further.

“Sure as hell didn’t sound it.” Jaden's voice is stern as he stares Lewis down.

Jaden is a few inches taller than Lewis, not by much but it's just noticeable. Lewis however is much more built, broad shoulders and biceps the size of both of Jaden's combined. You can tell Lewis is posturing, returning Jadens stare with just as much intensity. It worries you, you know Lewis is already pissed off and very drunk. You’ve never seen him be physical, hell you’ve barely ever seen him truly angry, but you’ve heard stories from his past, you know he can fight and he will never allow himself to be backed into a corner.

“How about you let my friend and I deal with our own problems mate.” Lewis bites.

“From how she talks about you I don’t think you’re exactly her fucking friend.” Jaden says, taking yet another step forward, brushing off your grasp on his arm.

“Guys, this is stupid. Lewis let’s just go.” You say, attempting to step around Jaden to get Lewis out of the bar before this escalates any further.

Before you can do that though, Jaden grabs your arm firmly, keeping you in place, “You’re not going anywhere with this jackass.”

Lewis’ eyes snap down to where your being held, the grip way too tight, “Get your fucking hands off of her, now.”

You wriggle your arm in his grasp, Jaden still not letting up.

“I said, get your fucking hands off of her, NOW.” Lewis’ voice is much louder than before as he steps forward. You're starting to attract attention and you're praying that in everyone's drunken stupor they don’t recognize the racing driver about to start a bar fight.

“Get off of me.” You try again to wriggle free from his grasp, him finally letting you go. You approach Lewis putting your hand on his chest, trying to push him towards the exit.

“Are you okay?” His voice has softened significantly, you can still hear the anger though.

“I’m fine, let’s just go.” You try again to get him out of the door before more people start paying attention. He doesn’t listen, instead grabs your hand gently, bringing it up in front of him to see the red mark around your forearm, the fingerprints firmly marked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lewis roars over your shoulder at Jaden.

“Lewis, please,” You plead desperately, “it doesn’t matter, let's just go home.”

“He fucking hurt you and you’re saying it doesn’t matter?” His tone is incredulous as he looks at you baffled, clearly not letting up.

“Bro, what the fuck’s going on over here.” Miles' voice comes from behind you and you thank god for your savior in that moment.

“This fucking douchebag was forcing himself on Y/N.” Jaden spits out, clearly thinking Miles will be on his side, unaware of the relationship.

“I highly fucking doubt it.” Miles says, disgust in his voice as he makes his way over toward where you and Lewis stand.

“She said it her fucking self dude, great fucking body guard you are.” Jaden says sarcastically, referencing his comment when they were introduced.

“What’s going on Y/N?” Miles says softly, coming to where you're still pressed against Lewis, trying your best to either calm him or hold him back.

“Nothing, we just need to leave.” You say firmly.

Miles nods, trying to grab Lewis’ arm to pull him to the door, knowing he won’t back down on whatever has him so mad, “Come on man, it’s not worth it.”

“Let’s just go home.” You say calmly, rubbing his chest, hoping to ease him.

Lewis reluctantly lets Miles start to pull him away, keeping his arm around you to keep you as close as possible to him. You don’t fight him on it, it’s not the time.

“Jesus, you’re really going home with that fuck? I guess a slut gets what’s coming to her.” Jaden scoffs.

His comment makes you stop, every ounce of your being wanting to turn around and punch him in the face, but you don’t get the chance, Miles is already on the move. His fist makes direct contact with Jadens cheek, knocking him to the side and almost taking him off his feet. Much to your surprise, it’s Lewis who springs forward and pulls Miles back, grunting something into his ear as he restrains him, pulling him backwards.

“What the fuck!” Charlotte screams, just approaching the situation.

“Fuck you, you’re all fucking insane.” Jaden yells, gripping his jaw, no one in the crowd even moving to help him.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Lewis grits out, pulling Miles back as he moves to grab for you as well.

Charlotte pays no mind, questioning Miles, “Miles, what the fuck was that, I’ve never seen you hit someone, what the fuck is going on?”

“Not now Charlotte.” Lewis says, somehow having become the calm one in the situation. Tears are streaming down your face as Lewis just about carries you out of the bar, Charlotte trailing along behind. You have no idea where everyone else is but right now you want to be as far away as possible.

The second your outside Lewis puts you down, cupping your face as you cry in front of him. He walks you away from the crowd outside the enterance before he pulls you hard into his chest, stroking your hair, letting you cry into his shirt.

“You're okay, it’s all okay.” He hushes you, trying to calm you down.

“No, it’s not all okay,” You suddenly scream at him as you push yourself off his chest, stepping away from him, your emotions from the last week have reached a peak, “neither of you, ever and I mean ever try to fucking fight someone for me again.”

You’re pointing hard at Lewis and Miles, who has since approached to check on you.

“Y/N-” Lewis tries to start.

“No, you don’t get to say the shit that you did or do the shit that you did and then try to fucking white knight all the sudden just because you’re jealous.” You scream at him.

“Baby, I just want to make sure you're okay.” Lewis pleads.

“Well I’m not,” You scream back, “none of this is okay. It hasn’t been since you tried to fuck me Lewis, I haven’t been okay. You have to have known that somewhere in the fucked up little brain of yours. And then you go and try to do it again? And even worse, blame me? Fuck you.”

Your words stop him dead in his tracks, you can see his mind reeling and guilt washing over his face.

“Honey-” Charlotte is slowly approaching you, trying to reason with you.

You don’t let her continue, “And both of you,” you direct your attention towards Miles who still seems to be in shock by your admission, “never fucking do that again, I’ll be damned if I see someone I love get hurt for me. I’ll let you know if I need help, don’t take it upon your fucking selves, I’m grown I can handle myself.”

Miles opens his mouth to speak but is evidently at a loss for words. Charlotte has stopped as well, unsure how to handle you in the moment.

“You know what, fuck this, I’m going home.” You say, tears still streaming down your cheeks as you throw your hands in the air, turning down towards the road to the house.

“Y/N please at least wait for the car, don’t walk home alone.” You hear Lewis call towards you, you can hear him following after you.

“Don’t” You whip around to yell at him, “do not follow me, please just fucking leave me alone.”

You turn back around, making your way down the road, no one follows you, leaving you in silence.

All you want to do is crumble into the ground and not get back up.

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thewiz9062 · 2 months

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Smiling Critters AU: Familial Relationships & Friendship Status Headcanons

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. That means EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. That's it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

OK I'm jumping straight under the cut, these are pretty long so be warned

Bubba's relationship with his parents is pretty good. The only reason I say "pretty" is because he feels like they "undermine his intelligence." In reality, he just wants to help them. In his younger years, he accessed the internet pretty easily and used context clues to figure out that with all the factors of an adult life, they weren't doing so well financially. But he saw a solution: a lot of people who have easy lives have a good education. So, he got to work, teaching himself anything and everything. He even (somewhat legally) got multiple jobs, ranging from tutoring to coding and other similar occupations. He hid these from his parents for a suprise. (This is when he was about 8, but my timeline is weird rn) anyways, he in total made a LOT more money than any child should have. Eventually, he told his parents and told them about his entire plan to help them. They exchanged a few words between each other and turned back to Bubba. They told him that they were very proud of him, but he shouldn't have to worry about things like that at his age. He understood because he knows that a lot of kids his age don't know a quarter of the stuff he does, but he also felt betrayed. As if they think he doesn't really know anything. In reality, they just want him to be able to live a life without their own issues, dragging him down. But they still are a happy family. There are just a few misunderstandings. Moving on, he still kept those jobs to the present day, meaning he's (for lack of a better term) loaded. In terms of the friend group, he is the one to give out life advice and such. He also funds their more expensive outings. If bobby is the "mom friend," Bubba is the "dad friend." Speaking of which, Bobby is his closest friend outside of Kickin. They both care for their friends and family, even though they do in different ways. He's still in good light with everyone else, though.

Kickin has fairly normal parents. They were a bit concerned with his behavior shift, but after meeting Bubba and his family, they were able to see him truly happy again. They care about him, like parents do. In regards to the friend group, Bubba and him are attached at the hip. If you were to invite one, you'd get the other. Package deal. This made and broke a lot of parties or outings with their peers, but with the critters they're both welcome anytime. Outside of Bubba, Hoppy is his closest friend, Dogday coming at a close second.

Hoppy's parents are her biggest inspiration. Athletes, just like she wants to be. They're pretty chill with each other, and they support her dreams. With the friend group, kickin is her best friend, but bobby is cool to her as well.

Crafty's parents are total assholes. I've gone over her parents before, but to give a brief summary, crafty wants to be an artist because she genuinely enjoys it, but her mother wants her to follow in her footsteps and be a model, simply because their rarity as unicorns. Her father knows, but doesn't care what she does either way. He's off defending people in court most of the time, and it was an arranged marriage anyway, just to keep the line going. (Not incredibly proud of this one, but it'll do). Whenever she wants to hang out with the friend group, she usually appears in far too expensive clothes for the activity, but Bobby's usually prepared and brings some clothing that Crafty feels comfortable in. She's closest to Dogday, him being the one to help her make friends in the first place and give her the motivation needed to be proud of her art.

Bobby's parental situation is bittersweet. She's the only critter with siblings, and regularly has to watch them because she has a working father, and her mother divorced him and didn't get custody. She is understanding and is more than happy to help, much to her father's regret, him having wanted her to have a normal childhood. (See why her and Bubba get along?) This led to her being essentially their mother. She wasn't exactly alone in this, as Picky Piggy was a huge help in some departments. Eventually, her father started earning enough to pay for a babysitter, allowing Bobby to be normal. But old habits are hard to shake. In the friend group, she is undeniably the mom friend. Other than picky (which she knew before joining the critters), Bubba is who she's closest to, for sharing the same goals: to help. Dogday makes ideas and plans, but bobby and Bubba make sure they go flawlessly.

Picky is also pretty normal. She has parents that support her culinary arts and had a few friends before joining the critters, including Bobby. Her knowing bobby immediately places her as Picky's closest friend, but she's fairly indiscriminate to everyone.

Another one I've gone over before: Catnap lost his parents at 4 (cause of bye-bye still pending and I honestly need help) and has lived on his own ever since. He's not COMPLETELY parentless, though, even though he'd never admit it. Although he never shows it like ever, he appreciates boxy boo just stopping by to check on him. In terms of friends, he's not actually an official member yet, but Dogday, Bobby, and Picky know him. Bubba and Kickin know of his existence because Dogday muttered his name when planning their sleepover but have yet to meet him. Dogday is his best friend, and wants to help him see that although it's great to be happy, he's still human (ik ik he isnt but yk what I mean) and is allowed to see things in a negative light sometimes.

Dogday was abandoned by his parents shortly after he was born, and was put in an orphanage and has lived there since. Just like catnap, however, he's not totally fatherless. One time, during one of the rare outings when one of their caretakers would take them to the local park dogday and wanted a balloon but didn't have a quarter to pay. Luckily for him, someone came and bought one for him. That someone was Huggy Wuggy. They became acquainted after Dogday thanked him, and anytime dogday visits the park, they sit on a bench and talk about things. (He also learned that Huggy gives the greatest hugs and now he won't leave without one everytime he has to go.) In terms of the friend group, he was the one that brought most of them together and along with being generally likeable he's in great standing with all of them. Though, hides the fact that he lives in an orphanage, thinking that they would treat him differently. When he met Catnap, however, they bonded over their lack of biological parents, and they became best friends. Dogday, even though he barely knows more than Catnap, wants to teach him how to make the best out of situations, even when times are bad.

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Edit: tumblr try not to post my drafts challenge go- failed

#poppy playtime #smiling critters #smiling critters poppy playtime #catnap #alternate universe #dogday #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #poppy playtime 3 #boxy boo #huggy wuggy

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ladywinterwitch · 1 year

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A-Z SFW PROMPTS (Robb Stark x Reader)

The og king in the north's turn for the A-Z sfw challenge!

Warnings: Some topics familiar to the game of thrones world, nothing specific. Some nsfw innuendos, but nothing fully explicit, Terms such as lady/queen etc and general female appearence descriptions will be used.

Based on these prompts, full credit to the author. *I did change letter Z to fit the historical setting since they couldn't possibly have a favorite picture. These headcanons are very out of context and don't necessarily respect canon situations or plotlines. It's all very hypothetical, Enjoy!

Main masterlist here

A - ADORABLE

§ -What do they find especially endearing?

Robb is a very romantic man, and also a very family centered one, considering the environment in which he grew up. He loves to see you being soft, in general. A cute kid gifted his queen in the north a flower and you're absolutely melting? So is he. A kitten comes close and cuddles your hand making you awe? He's SMILING. Those type of situations absolutely melt his heart, but again he'd be just as happy to hear you tell a story or talk to you. Obviously he loves when you get touchy and all giggly, how could he not honestly.

B - BARGAIN

§- How do they get their way?

Robb does enjoy a good love making session after a particularly good or busy day. This could mean showering you with compliments and being all romantic in public or if you're already in private there's a very good chance that he'll just get things started by kissing all over your body and face, or, if he's feeling particularly playful, with killer tickles that would only have you laughing to tears and beg him to have mercy on you.

C - COMMUNICATE

§-What is their love language?

Oh, physical touch absolutely. PDA is also a big thing for him. He's proud that you're his queen and wants to show you off to everyone. "Good evening my lords, don't you think that my queen looks absolutely delightful tonight?" or "You know my lady, my lady wife is also really good at riding" literally doesn't matter, he's down bad and is gonna make it everyone's problem. You could say that he's got a bit of a praise kink going on, or he's simply a simp, you decide.

D - DEVOTED

§-How do they show they're serious?

Aside from making sure that your position near him is always clear to everyone, Robb is definetly the type to protect you from everyone and everything. He's never had a bad example of a man to look up to, a mysoginistic one or a cruel one. Eddard has always been nothing but respectful and devoted to his mother lady Catelyn, and he'll be the same to you.

E - ENCHANTED

§-What first caught their eye?

Your self respect, probably. Again, obviously his view of the world will be in one way or another be influenced by his own family. That being said, from his mother to his little sisters, even though in different ways, none of them ever allowed to anyone to step on them. When he first met you he noticed that right away. Might also be that you're quite feisty and that amused him to no end lol. Another factor that it's not a hundred necessary but still very welcomed is that lady Catelyn liked you.

F - FLIRTY

§-How do they flirt?

He is quite bold in his intentions usually. He's a lord, now a king, and regardless he's never been in a position in which he had contain himself too much. He's a big child in the positive meaning of the word, to be honest. He can be really playful and he usually is. He'd tease you by complimentiong you, grabbing you and showering you with kisses, sometimes tickle you or even chase you around! He's just really in love and it's not hard to see.

G - GENTLE

§-How do they provide comfort?

Again, he's a very physical lover. If you were crying or having a bad time for some reason he'd just hold you, stroke your arms, back or whatever part of your body he could reach, and give you kisses on the head. He would be the type to let you cry it out and then ask you if you're feeling better, and you usually would. Afterwards he'd just make sure that you had the chance to relax however you wanted, alone or not. It was your job to tell him what you needed, and he would provide.

H - HOT

§-What is their favorite look on their partner?

He loves to see you comfortable. You could be in a nightgown and with loose hair and he'd be a hundred percent satisfied. He also likes to see you with simpler clothes than the ones you wear during big nights or important events at the castle. But again, whatever you feel more comfortable wearing is enough for him,

I - INTIMATE

§-What kind of dates do they like?

I wouldn't consider them proper dates since you're mostly together anyway, but he loves to spend some alone time with you when he gets a break after some busy days or even after he's been away. In that case he'd just be very happy to reconnect in bed, in the literal sense. We could consider it a sex and pillow talk combo. Sometimes a warm bath where you could just chill together and get lovey dovey.

J - JEALOUS

§-How jealous are they? How do they show it?

Yes, why lie. He's very proud to have you at his side and is just so in love with you that he wants you all to himself. He'd never get toxic or violent, none of that. But, he's kind of a man child so obviously he'd get a pout when some other lord would try and get friendly with you. You'd mostly find it cute and amusing though, and a little kiss would fix everything right away. It's just all very wholesome.

K - KARMA

§-How do they apologize?

He wouldn't, because he's got nothing to apologize for. He'd just turn into a happy puppy and be all over you.

L - LUST

§-Favorite thing about their partner?

Your grace. Robb is just mesmerized of the way you move and act, how you carry yourself. He would find you so graceful and beautiful in everything that he could just about spend his days staring at you in awe.

M - MEMORY

§-What's their favorite memory together?

Probably your wedding day. Painfully romantic, I know. He cherishes the whole happy vibe of the day, the memory of you and his family together, you looking beautiful in your wedding attire, you dancing together. Everything honestly.

N - NORMAL

§-What does a normal day look like for them?

You wake up together, have breakfast alone and start the day coversing. Then he would kiss you and go off to take care of his lord business and you your lady's. Sometimes you'd spend the day with his sisters and mother. You always tried to have your meals together and in general make sure to communicate trought the day.

O - OBVIOUS

§-How do they show they're together?

Well you're his literal queen so it's not like you need to prove yourself any further. But you'd be a very loving couple in public regardless, your on his arm, him kissing your cheek or hand when he had to leave/when he saw you, always making sure to acknowledge your presence and your title, and so on.

P - PEACE

§-How do they relax together?

You like to take baths together. You like the contact, the warmth and the privacy of it. Living in Winterfell other things that required to get out of the castle walls weren't exactly comfortable or enjoyable except on rare mid-temperature days. You also liked to play games actually, like board games or card games in front of the fireplace. Possibly naked.

Q - QUIET

§-What can they do together?

Fortunately for you spending time together isn't really an issue, especially since you're married and have such important roles in Winterfell. Robb being a big family man also loves a nice evening with his parents and siblings, or just generally some of the lords and ladies of the castle. You typically prefer to stay inside than outside regardless, so the choice falls on playing games, talking, being intimate or even doing your official business just staying in the same room.

R - ROMANTIC

§-What kind of gifts do they give?

You are already the queen/lady of Winterfell so there isn't much that you could need or wish for that you already don't have. It does happen sometimes that his sisters give you little gifts; Sansa once gifted you an embroidered shawl, while Arya a little hand made figure of your house. You thought it was very sweet of them and were glad that they loved you. Robb would kinda spoil your kids though, should you have any.

S - SLEEP

§-How do they sleep together?

You like to sleep on his chest, or hugged to his side with your head on his shoulder. He also likes to touch you while you sleep, a hand on your waist, belly, side or even holding your hand if he manages. He'd definetly be the type to sleep with a hand on your pregnant belly, too.

T - THOUGHTFUL

§-What small things do they do for each other?

You get each other a lot. If it happens that either of you gets annoyed or tired during a conversation, a dinner or another kind of situation, the other would make sure to dismiss it and move on. Again, you're very affectionate in general so it wouldn't be wired for people to see you exchange a loving glance, a chaste kiss or something similar. You also know how to comfort each other and give each other space should you need it, which is foundmental in your relationship.

U - UNITY

§-What would their wedding be like?

Your wedding would definetly be a very happy day for everyone. You're the kind of couple that other could tell was made out of love and not duty, and this aura reflected on those around you. Sansa and Arya would be your maids, and even though the smaller one would kinda hate to get all dolled up, she'd bare it just because she likes you. Catelyn would be the happiest woman in the kingdom honestly, and would probably weep during the ceremony. You'd dance together all evening and get emotional during the ceremony. You'd feel like the luckiest people in the kingdom and the guests would probably agree, considering how weddings usually go in Westeros.

V - VIBRANT

§-What always makes them smile?

One another, easily. You're very alike in your character and that's why you'd get along so well, like ninety percent of the time. You also love to just enjoy family time, it gives you a sense of comfort, strenght and stability.

W - WHISPER

§-What pet names and compliments do they use?

You'd call him 'my love', 'my lord', 'my husband' or simply Robb. He'd also call you 'my love/queen/lady', by your name and also 'my darling'.

X - XOXO

§-How do they kiss?

Like everything that you do, your kisses would also be quite sweet. You'd kiss often, that's for sure; on the lips, on the cheek, forehead, head, hands, shoulder and so on.

Y - YEARN

§-What do they do when they're apart?

You would be better at hiding the longing than him, to be honest. You'd be pretty much the same, saving the sadness for when you were alone, even though Jon or Catelyn would see right through you and give you a few words of comfort. Robb on the other hand would get grumpy. According to his lords it was almost funny how his mouth clearly pouted in disappointment whenever he was caught missing home and you.

Z - ZOOM

§-What's their favorite place to go to?

You don't really have one outside of Winterfell. If you had to choose you'd probably pick the family room in which you could dine, dance, play, fool around, eat and just spend time together.

That's it for the SFW Robb version! Hope you liked it <3

taglist: @lady-stark-winter-rose

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

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In Words I struggle to Express — Bassists!Onyankopon x Singer!fem Reader

➡️ synopsis: the launch party went absolutely great and the after partys going to be even better! but somehow, it was a certain someone’s presence you were banking on in order for the night to truly be a success.

➡️ word count: 2.3k

➡️ content: no warnings

➡️ author’s note: fuck. okay. this is…very very self indulgent and basically based off our silly little mmbcu (dont ask) so ive tried to take out all the stuff that needs context so everyone can read it without too much issue. however for clarities sake: reader is in a girl group (called MMB) whilst reiner (drummer), zeke (vocalist), jean (vocals/guitar) and onyankopon (bassist) are in a band. at this point of time, Ony and reader aren’t in an established relationship.

if anything, id like to thank @pisspope for coming up with this specific idea earlier this week. i hope you know it’s rotted my brain ever since. thanks.

It was a success.

After months of constant tweaking, track ditching, debating lineups and self-doubt in your artistry — at final last: You had performed your album in full for your ceiling-packed launch party of family, friends and industry names alike.

Despite the shortcomings that came along with it, you hope the album lands well as it goes public tomorrow. Your band members have done their best in assuring you of it’s legendary status (“It literally serves cunt, you’ll be fine.”) and so there was only room for you to have faith that it’d do numbers — even if it was a diversion from your usual group's musical sound.

But even now, as the dregs of adrenaline still coarse through your veins, it’s just you left alone in the green room. You were only in the process of changing outfits, silk pink gown snuggly sat on your frame, but it was the creepinks of wallowing unfulfillment that somehow found its way into your heart.

Your band members and their other halves have graciously said that they’d set forwards on to the afterparty. Something about being ready to welcome you when you eventually do enter the venue where the after party was being held. You were okay with that — and thankful that they were thinking of you in that regard — but since it now left you alone with your own thoughts and own reflection in the mirror, you could feel your performing high start to come down and realisation kick in. That ultimately, despite the many wins you’ve received tonight, you were still alone.

“Can I come in?”

Rather than it being the knock, it was the steady voice you were oh so used to that reeled you out of your trance, your eyes finally locking back into focus. As you turn your head away from your reflection and into his direction, you could automatically feel your heart pick up pace.

“Well, doors open and you’re already halfway in so…”

A breathy excuse of a laugh leaves your throat — a sorry attempt at making yourself seem more pious for him than you actually were — but it was absolutely no help at all. Within his presence, you only ever felt more anxious than you should.

Onyankopon tries his best to force a laugh back but it doesn’t translate well. It seemed pained, even more forced than yours, and so you had to avert your eyes — Save yourself from reading into something you didn’t want to.

You had to do that more for you than for him anyways. Because it’s been iffy with Onyankopon these past few months and with how he’s been treating you.

Not that you were complaining; He was a man who treated you to nice things and valued your opinion. A man who understood when you needed to be handled or when you could handle your own. A man who also understood your craft and was more than happy to aid his own. It was all well and good between the both of you and he was a gentleman wrapped in one. Only issue is that Onyankopon has never clarified what the fuck you two were.

Which, in itself, was off-putting. But concerning he had so much creative process on your album? (Actually, most of his band did, but since you possibly liked him just a tad bit better, his efforts were well more noticed) And considering you had to stick so many unsolicited hard hours alongside him? And keeping in mind how you were practically eye fucking him from the stage half the time you were performing your album — the sultry songs all directed at him?! You figured he’d somehow get the hint that you were open, willing, waiting for him to make a move.

As he cautiously took further steps into the room, you wonder if your requested audience would result in pushing him to make that move.

“I won’t take up too much of your time.” He hums with one arm suspiciously behind his back.

He attempts to clear his throat yet he’s unable to do so the first time. It takes him several goes, a cough and a bat at his chest, before he’s able to achieve his goal. By now he just feels stupid, fumbling something as simple as this in front of you but he chooses to champion on.

You however, can’t help but find it endearing.

“No, you’re good. Still got a few minutes till we’re heading to the Ritz for the after party.”

You turn around in your chair, silk gown that crosses over the intersection of your chest one tug away from being labelled ‘provocative’. Unintentionally, but definitely welcomed.

“You coming, right?”

And you know you’ve tempted him — far more than you should be — because Onyankopon’s eyes automatically wander to the exposed skin of your chest. Stare locked on for several seconds before he’s forced to recognise his error and flick his eyes back up to meet yours.

“I…not this time.” He clears his throat again. “Which is mainly why I wanted to come see you now since I won’t see you after this.”

“Oh…”

You try your best not to look disappointed; for your shoulders not to sag and your bottom lip to stay free of being snagged between your teeth but it’s inevitable to stop the way your heart sinks halfway down your chest and your gut wretches inwards.

Right, of course. He was a busy man.

In your head, you know he probably had good reason to skip out on this big night of yours, but you can’t help the small teasing voice that reminds you that every one of his bandmates found a way to clear their schedules in order to make the party tonight. Everyone but him.

Subconsciously you tug the material of your gown over your chest.

“Maybe next time then.” You feign. Suddenly you don’t feel enthusiastic for your own event.

Onyankopon knows he’s fucked up your mood and he’s mentally kicking himself for doing so. Personally, he wasn’t going to say anything— just not show up and let you enjoy your time without him. But it’s Reiner, the drummer of their band, who nudged him to at least apologise for not coming.

Actually, Reiner nudged him to say a lot more than just his apologies for not being able to make the after party. He had berated Onyankopon in wisdolic manner about asking you out properly as opposed to keeping you exclusively on his arm. A proverb about ‘hope deferred making the heart sick’, “And you don’t want her to be sick because of you, do you?” He warned.

In all honesty, he didn’t hate what Reiner was saying. He really did want to make a move on you! And he genuinely had the intention to as well. He also thought it’d be ideal to ask you out considering he was very much planning on taking you to go meet his parents soon but…

It just wasn’t the right time.

“It’s never the right time, is it?” Says a more nihilistic voice in his head, but he ignores it for sanity’s sake.

Onyankopon shuffles his footing.

“I’m sorry. Something really important popped up and you know I’d usually be there and…Look, I just wanted to come see you and mention you were really great out there. I know we, well, more you, worked really hard on this album and all but I genuinely just want to say that I’m really, really, proud of you.”

There’s a twitch of recognition on your face but the man’s rambled words did nothing to lighten your mood. You only turn your head back to your reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you, Onyankpon.”

Okay, you’re using his full name. That’s how he knows you’re upset at him.

Now he’s regretting even coming here. Onyankopon doesn’t want to go round blaming Reiner for your lack of reaction to him but deep down, he knows that’s all him. He knows that either way, mentioned or not, his absence would have upset you. He doesn’t want to now give you even more reason to be upset so he guesses he should start wrapping this up.

“Congratulations on the album launch. That was the main thing I wanted to say. I should have started with that first…”

With an outstretched arm from behind his back, Onyankopon offers you a box of luxury chocolates and a freshly picked bouquet he could fit all in one hand. In all honesty, he would have definitely gotten you something bigger, better than you could have ever imagined!

But, he just didn’t have the time.

“You never have the time—“ “Shut up. I know.” The voice in his head is cut short.

However, contrary to the heart felt gift, it seems your attention can no longer be brought. Despite his presentation, your expression is fixed and occupied on your reflection. Onyankopon suddenly wonders whether you were always this down when he wasn’t around.

You sniff once but not because any tears were about to grace your face.

“Thanks.” You say without looking back at him. “You can put ‘em over there with the others.”

Onyankopon’s gaze follows where your eye line draws to within the mirror.

Sure enough, towards the side of the room there's a table where a mountain of gifts, flowers and congratulatory efforts lay. Onyankopon takes two steps towards it before sheepishly laying down his now rather measly looking present within the only sliver of table available.

If he didn’t feel so out of depth with you, he would have dryly laughed at how low effort his offering was in contrast to Jean’s, his band’s guitarist.

As he could see, the man had brought you an expensive bag bouquet — a gift extravagant enough to take up half the wall behind it. There was even a large bottle of champagne and a D’usse that tagged along with it and a card that had your stage name curved in beautiful calligraphy.

You and Jean didn’t share a relationship anywhere as near as efficient as you and Onyankopon’s to warrant this type of gift, but he guesses his bandmate took great pride in the help he had on your album. Onyankopon even feels a sense of irate jealousy as he remembers how the two of you danced back-to-back on stage as Jean played his guitar solo during your final song.

His throat runs dry at memory recall of the performative sight. Surely, all of that was to provoke him.

“Sorry.” You suddenly blurt out and Onyankopon’s attention is instantly brought back to you — the physical you.

“I kinda need to get ready now. Vans almost in front.” You drastically avoid his eye contact. “If I could just have these last few minutes alone that’d be great.”

With your last sentence mumbled and your hands playing at your gown, he knows you’re not telling the whole truth but he was honestly out of his depth here. All Onyankopon could do was fulfil your wishes.

“O-oh! Oh, sure! Sure, yeah I’ll let you…I’ll let you get to it.”

With almost bashful demeanour, Onyankopon backs away from the table and makes a beeline towards the door.

But it feels wrong. It feels incomplete.

It’s not like he wanted to force himself against your boundaries but he just knows that if he leaves now without saying anything — he might just wound your ebbing relationship beyond repair.

In some sort of divine intervention, Reiner’s words about not being the ‘hope deferred’ that resulted in making you sick, kicked in. As soon as the phrase comes to him, a looped smile starts to grow onto his face.

“Now's the time!” His inner head voice says and for once, he lets it speak.

Stopping in his tracks, Onyankopon mentally gears his courage up before turning on his heels and blurting out the first thing that came up his throat.

“Hey, uh…look, I really do feel bad about not being able to make tonight. I wanna make it up to you so how’s your availability for the day after tomorrow?”

You’re surprised by his offer but you don’t wholly show it. It’s the way you pretend that his preposition didn’t excite you that made Onyankopon want to burst out in laughter. You were so cute when you were trying to be aloof.

“Depends.” You shrug as your eyes actively avoid his. “I have an early morning promo interview for the album and my evenings fully booked.”

Onyankopon enthusiastically nods.

It made sense you were busy concerning the work needed to be done for your album drop but Onyankopon was determined. Onyankopon wanted to make this work!

“Okay, that’s fine. How’s lunch time for you?”

There is a look of ponder on your face and a sparkle in your eye. You roll your lips in contemplation before quote mark nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Relatively free.” You quip.

Yes!

“Great! Leave it open for me. I’ll take you out on a date.”

Onyankopon is pumped enough that he’s already heading out the green room and so you get up from your chair to shout after him.

“Wait— Ony, to where?”

The man turns round to face you, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. Not the most infectious smile but it’s his and so automatically, you’re drawn to it.

“Don’t worry about that. Just dress comfortably. I’ll pick you up from whatever studio you’re recording at.” He says before making his way out.

With a huff of disbelief, you sag back down into the chair.

It wasn’t unbelievable that within the spur of the moment, Onyankopon had thought up a date to take you to. He was like that — It was kinda his thing — but there was something about this particular mystery date that you found yourself looking forward to.

The same smile from before grew larger on your face and your reflection in the mirror relayed the same message.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel so down anymore.

#don’t expect anyone to read this but i feel it was too indulgent for the gc 😭😭#onyankopon aot #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon #attack on titan #aot #aot x black reader #aot x reader

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fotibrit · 7 months

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I'm sorry, but HOW do you post every day. I manage a different side blog that posts twice a day, but by now, they're mainly shitposts just to get content out while I stress over school. How do you come up with so many prompts???

Hi! Thank you so so much for sending an ask, and I especially love this question because I actually have an answer for it. I get to ramble about my thesis!!! The answer will be unnecessarily long and undoubtedly will go off on tangents. I’m so sorry. You’ve been warned.

The short answer is that I really like philosophy and that I post whatever comes to mind. The long answer will be below the cutoff, it is long lol

There’s a decent amount of people following my blog who do not know anything about me, so for those people, nice to meet you! Welcome to a peak behind the curtains! I go by Brit or Ae. I’ve been in fandom spaces for a little under a decade, and I’m studying to be a philosophy professor.

Seeing as I am studying philosophy, I’ve had to develop my own worldview and ideas about humanity pretty extensively. I am currently working on my thesis, writing about my theory of universal passion.

By universal passion, I mean that every person has the ability to be passionate about any given object, concept, being, you name it. Any person can be passionate about (or, have a vested interest in) any given thing, if put in the right circumstance.

By anything, I mean anything. A molecule of dust. A fallen leaf. Broken pencil lead. Any person could be emotionally attached to any matter or concept with which they come into context, however small, in the right circumstance.

Imagine a pinboard, like the detectives have in cheesy TV shows, except every single person on earth is represented by a pin on the left, and every item or concept is represented by a pin on the right. Now, we’ve got our basic strings of connection, formed by canon. Peter Parker, on the left, is connected to his Spider-Suit, on the right. Let’s imagine a string connecting Peter’s pin to the pin of his suit.

I theorize that there is also potential for string to connect Peter’s pin to, let’s say, the coffee mug in the background of one scene in AoU. And to Bucky’s left shoe. and to the railing on top of Stark Tower. It’s just up to us to figure out exactly how those strings could form, how those connections could be made.

It’s up to us to decide the circumstance that could, in theory (or in fanfic lol) tie a person to an object, even if they never come into contact.

That is my theory of universal passion. (i’m still working on wording it, obviously lol)

Now, for how that relates to my blog.

Fun fact: I have never queued a post, ever. I don’t even know how. I post in real time, mostly because I’m too lazy to learn how queueing works.

Almost all of my posts are created because I think of a concept (usually something in my vicinity) and try to think of a circumstance in which a character (lets be real, usually Peter or Tony) would be passionate about that concept. I apply my theory of universal passion, finding a way to tie string from the character to the concept.

For each thing you interact with (and everyone interacts with SOMETHING every day, even if that thing is just the floor), a new prompt can be made. All it takes is imagination, to come up with a situation in which the character would care very deeply about that item or concept.

You’ve got to imagine the string. You have to trust it is there, and find where it exists. It is there. Believe me. Every character can be connected to every item, you just have to put them in a circumstance where they care about it.

The tour guide post, about Tony occasionally becoming a tour guide when bored, was written while I was on a tour. I was curious how I could make the topic of “tour guides” relate to irondad. The post from a while ago about Peter trying to create the perfect playlist for lab nights was written while I tried to make the perfect playlist for a long car ride with friends. I just found a way to make the characters care about the topic of “playlists”. I post every day because I consider the objects/concepts I am interacting with and I come up with ways the characters would interact with them.

It sounds ridiculous, that even a single molecule of air can be of interest to someone, but how could you manipulate the circumstance to make it important? I’m planning on writing my thesis on universal passion, how every single thing in the world is worth caring very, very much for, but only if a person is put in the proper circumstances in which that thing builds off their previous experience to spark passion.

In the meantime, though, my theory is fun to write silly little irondad prompts with. If anyone has any suggestions of items/themes/concepts that you want turned into a prompt, feel free to send an ask!

#abt me

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castlecult · 2 years

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okay so basically i’m just testing the water so… some kind of intro for mbf!natasha with f!reader ahead <3

pairing : mbf!natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings : none + r is of age & nat is her late thirties

you’re coming back home from college and basically you find your mom & nat at your house. they’re cooking and gossiping and stuff like that and it’s been a lot since you last saw nat because she used to be super busy with work.

“oh? that’s y/n?” nat exclaims once you enter your house and she’s all like ‘you grew up so much, look at you! you’re a heartthrob for sure’ and stuff like that, so you’re a bit flushed by her compliments and so you thank her but like all shy.

she eats at your house, curious about your college life she asks questions alongside your mom and then they announce that maybe a little party with some close friends will be fun since you’re back.

you help them out a bit and then disappear to get ready for the night. you hear nat leaving too and once you and ur mom are ready you wait with her for the others to come.

at the party, everyone greets you & ask the usual questions, you know the drill. then nat overhears one of your mom friends asking you about a boyfriend and you simply reply with an ‘i’m not interested in finding a bf atm’ and stuff like that.

by the end of the night, you find yourself cleaning around the house with nat, while ur mom’s out saying goodbye to everyone.

“not interested enough to find a boyfriend, huh?” nat teases, making you chuckle. “well, i’m alright on my own for now, you know?” you say and shrug. “makes sense,” she nods and help you put away the empty bottles.

ur mom’s finally back inside and you tell her to go to sleep since she’s clearly tired. she waves goodnight and goes upstairs.

once you and nat are alone again, you finish cleaning the living room and tell her she can go home. you reach the door and notice nat’s sending you a strange look, but you don’t ask anything.

“sleep well, okay? welcome back, sweetie,” she smiles and kisses your cheek, you feel your face heat up and simply smile back, nodding. you watch her walk towards her house, not too far from yours and then you close the door, sighing deeply.

you feel like a strange sensation inside of you, thinking about the looks nat sent you through the whole night – which seemed more than just those of an adult checking you were enjoying your night.

but maybe you were just imagining things. she always cared so much about you and your mom, she was one of her oldest friends and you enjoyed having her around, so maybe the fact that nat would spend more time around would help having that relationship back, and it wouldn’t hurt anybody… would it?

an : this sucksssss 😩 but yeah as i said it’s just to give some context bc i’m gonna write misc one shots .. hope you enjoyed it + reblogs & feedback are super appreciated <3 if u wanna share your thoughts about mbf!nat hit my inbox !!

#rin writes #mbf!natasha romanoff #mbf!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff one shot #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #black widow #scarlett johansson #marvel

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akindplace · 2 years

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Some people think the word "gringo" is a slur. It literally means something like "foreigner", someone that comes from another country. But I just realized that when a Brazilian says "gringo!!!!" like they are genuinely happy to see you it's really because they are glad you're here and they want to teach you stuff about Brazil and integrate you to the culture and learn about yours and make friends with you, we are just really extroverted and we love other cultures.

Like, last week I was at a Buddhist temple that had all types of Asian culture related things (even though Buddhism isn't prevalent in every country in Asia, here you will get white christians praying on the temple because historically we incorporated so many religions into our own culture and people think "well, what if it works?" and sensible people don't think it's heretical). It was a also a celebration that incorporated a Brazilian festival called "June parties", that became so popular that they start in the end of May and go until August instead of actually lasting for only June and it was based on catholic beliefs but people from all religions go just to have fun, dance and eat. And then we were doing that, but adding multiple Asian cultures in a Buddhist temple. All at the same time, same place, everybody having fun.

Anyway some gringos were there and they were a bit overwhelmed but really happy to see all the different cultural things going on, when to us it is just another year's festival and sometimes we forget this doesn't happen everywhere. And people were trying to explain to them why we do that, what you can do at those festivals and they were sunburned and everyone just wanted to integrate them to the festival. English was not even their first language and everyone was struggling a bit to communicate but we tried because it's so fun when someone is genuinely interested in the mix up culture/faith/ethnicities we have here.

In some rare occasions, if people say "gringo." and it sounds too serious and they say it with a bit of a condescending tone, you just did something racist or disrespectful and then it becomes something that means "this person thinks they are so superior and they haven't even tried to get to know us", kind of like when people say in English "this is white people stuff" right after they said something racist that shows lack of awareness and privilege. That's what I think might come closest to an English expression in that context.

If you get offended by someone's "very excited that you're here" tone of saying "gringo!!!" then you might get offended by the monotone "gringo." which basically means that you were going racist/xenophobic. Most people will try the "welcome" tone of the word, and they might give you "gringo" as a nickname and it usually means that you are well-liked. Just make sure you are the type of person that will continue to get that happy emphasis on the word and don't say racist shit.

Tldr: it's not a slur and people are usually genuinely interested in you and trying to integrate you into the culture and happy to see that you wanted to come here in the first place. But if anyone is openly racist, and people get irritated, then the very monotone way of calling someone a gringo serves as a warning to other Brazilians that you were saying racist things without even trying to get to know the culture or the people in it. The word exists in both Portuguese and Spanish but I am talking about Brazilian Portuguese since that's where I'm from. It's all in the tone and it's never a slur, and in its negative meaning it just serves to tell other Brazilians that you are saying racist stuff, but it usually has a sort of "hey, it's cool that you're here and I wanna show you some nice stuff to do around here".

#on the word gringo #Brazilian culture #it's all in the tone #and it is not a slur #it has more than one meaning #cw racism against latinx #cw religion mention

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vecnawrites · 10 months

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Patreon Reward: Pure Support Group, Chapter 8: Winter

Winter visits Beacon, and ends up needing to share her story of meeting Joan...

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to another meeting of FABJA.” Lian Ren’s voice, while soft, carried throughout the room as she looked over those who had come to this meeting. Pyrrha and Nora were both absent, Pyrrha due to being Joan’s teddy bear for the night (though she had caught the look of pleasured despair on Pyrrha’s face before it vanished from view as a sleeping Joan pulled her head into her cleavage), and Nora due to staying overnight in the medical wing for some tests.

The usuals were here, as always, those constantly around Joan so always the most effected, like Velvet Scarlatina and May Zedong, who had been conversing with one another and Ruby as they waited for the meeting to begin.

Emerald Sustrai, Neapolitan, and Cinder Fall were in their usual seats, drawing strength from one another.

The Malachite sisters sat near them close enough to join in on a conversation if necessary, far enough away that they could have spoken to themselves privately if they wanted.

However, the focus of today’s meeting was currently hunched in a chair, surrounded by several others.

Winter Schnee did not currently look like the epitome of professionalism that she had looked earlier in the day when they had all met her. Her uniform coat was rumpled, her hair was coming out of its bun, and that had nothing on the massive cum stain on the front of her previously crisp, clean, and unsoiled uniform pants.

Around her were Weiss, Neon, Ciel, Fiona, and Elm, all the other Atlesians who had come to the support group before, each of them seemingly rallying around the pale woman. Then again, they all knew the embarrassment that she was experiencing, that was for certain, having all been there at one point or another.

"Tonight, we have a new person joining us, the elder sister of one of our own. Please give Winter Schnee a warm welcome. She has her own story to tell today." Lian could tell that it had to be something horrible (well, in certain context) to make the strict officer that she had met earlier that day to lose so much decorum and look as frazzled as she was at the moment. “Winter? You have the floor whenever you are ready.”

Winter opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, then shook her head and took several deep breaths, before she swallowed hard, looking up, her face set in determination. She sighed. “W-Well, it all s-started when I a-arrived…”

Winter Schnee walked with purpose through Beacon’s hallways, intent on looking for the girl that everyone she was in communications with had been taling about, not only extolling the virtues of, but telling her many horror stories about what had happened around her…particularly several similar stories from New Year’s Day.

While she wasn’t one to honestly believe that her subordinates were prone to flights of fancy, the stories she had heard seemed…fantastical in nature. A girl capable of being as kind and sweet as this in a combat academy? To be able to make her subordinates publicly embarrass themselves so easily? It seemed like a well choreographed group of lies.

But…a small part of her mind wondered. After all, she had been in contact with Weiss much longer and she told stories quite similar, though her verbage had been rather…angry…in the beginning, but was no getting softer.

It was her sister’s words that made her intent on meeting this girl for herself. After all, it took a great deal to make her sister change her mind about anything, so she wanted to know what it was about this girl that caused such a thing.

Reaching the room where she had last heard the girl to be, she looked in, and her eyes widened as she saw the person within.

“I didn’t realize you hadn’t…well…exaggerated…her proportions…” Winter muttered, cheeks flushed, getting coughs from other members of Mantle and Atlas in the room as they looked around at everything but Winter, each of them remembering just how they had described the girl that affected them so in their missives.

Needless to say, all of them were more than a bit…complimentative…in their descriptions of Joan and how she looked.

Winter swallowed hard as she saw the beautiful blonde that had apparently enamored so many of her compatriots cleaning the tables of the Dust Studies classroom, wearing the Beacon Academy uniform which was very…flattering on her body.

Now she found herself understanding just why so many times she had heard the terminology ‘Pure Girl’ being thrown around when the girl was brought up in discussion. She was radiant…and she was reminded of that one highly embarrassing night where someone had arranged a graduation gift for her. She still didn’t know who had arranged it.

Shaking her head of those thoughts, lest she get an erection in her uniform pants (it was difficult enough for her to get her testicles in, thank you!), and straightened her shoulders, and headed in, shoulders squared.

Weiss’s brow pinched. “‘Graduation Present’? Winter, what do you mean?” she asked, getting a snicker from Elm and a panicked cough form the older of the two sisters.

“Never mind, Weiss! Let me continue!”

“Hello, Miss Arc, was it?” Winter made sure not to startle her, not only had she heard some…interesting…stories about how the girl acted when she was frightened, they were in a room filled with Dust. Which could be incredibly volatile if suddenly jostled.

The blonde paused in her scrubbing down the table and looked up, a beautiful, genuine smile forming on her face. “Hello! Winter, right? Weiss told us a lot about you!” the chipper, earnest tone pulled the faintest hint of a smile to Winter’s lips.

“All good things, I hope.” Winter said, surprised at the playfulness that her own voice took as she spoke, making the blonde giggle which did…things…to her bosom.

Good Lord, was the girl even wearing a bra? It shouldn’t even be possible for one’s chest to bounce that much!

“Oh, yes! Weiss really, really admires and looks up to you! She’s told us what she can; she did mention that your job had a fair amount of Op Sec surrounding it.” Winter found herself almost entranced at how the blonde spoke as she cleaned, Winter swallowing as she realized just how familiar she was…and how interesting the pose she chose for cleaning was…

As the blonde leaned over the table, her bust swayed with every movement, bouncing and jiggling, her chest and rear end shaking as she she did so.

Licking her dry lips, Winter realized that she needed to talk, otherwise she would likely end up doing something…potentially most unwise. “So, how are you enjoying Beacon? Weiss told me she herself experienced quite a bit of culture shock upon arrival.” Winter wasn’t lying about that, remembering the flurry of texts and messages from Weiss in her first few weeks at the school, some far more scathing than others.

The blonde paused, before giggling, her bosom jiggling dangerously, the creamy flesh of her cleavage growing more expansive with every bounce. “Well it was a bit rough in the beginning, though it helped that unlike Weiss, I didn’t exactly come without a support base, so I suppose that helped me? It doesn’t hurt that I was less…” the blonde paused, seeming to look for the proper word.

Winter smiled thinly. “My mother and I always called her ‘prickly’ when she was in one of her moods.”

“Sister!?” Weiss burst out, scandalized, while those who knew the girl all stifled laughs, as ‘prickly’ was a nice way of talking about the girl when she was in one of her moods.

The blonde giggled again, even louder this time as she nodded in agreement. “My mother would have taken me or any of my sisters over her knee had we acted like that in public.” she said, shaking her head, before she pouted. “She was really mean to me and Ruby before she calmed down, too.” she shook her head. “But she’s much kinder now, she’s calmed down a lot since the start of school…” she titled her head in a very familiar fashion, and Winter found herself wondering why the girl seemed so familiar, but forced her curiosity down, instead looking at the table that was now completely clean.

“Are you enjoying Dust Studies, Miss-!?” Winter’s words died in her throat as she saw the girl start to slip on some water on the floor, and found herself moving before she thought about it, scooping the young woman into her arms, only to slip herself and land on her back, her Aura tanking the blow…

…though she was not prepared for the fact that the girl landed chest first against her face, practically smothering her in softness, sweet scents, the dull thump of a heartbeat…

…and she found her cock exploding as the contents of her balls evacuated, her mind immediately going back to another moment like this, where she had a pair of tits this large, this soft, this sweet smelling, shoved in her face, her panties becoming ruined and her uniform pants becoming soaked on the front as she whined in humiliation, the sound lost in the cavernous bosom.

“...thankfully, she was too embarrassed falling chest first onto my face to notice that I came…” Winter sighed, looking down at her lap.

Cinder huffed a bit. “Don’t feel too ashamed. We’ve all been in that position…” the horse faunus sighed, folding her arms under her bust and shaking her head. Glancing down at her lap, where her own cock was making a massive tent.

Lian coughed into her hand, bringing attention back to her, “Cinder is right, Winter. We have all been there; that is why we have these meetings. Thank you for coming and sharing your story with us. Let us retire for the night, and we will meet up next when one of us needs to share a ‘Joan related incident’, okay?”

Receiving nods and calls of affirmation, Lian managed a small smile, despite the strain in her own nightgown. “Everyone have a good night.” she watched as the group stood up and started to disperse, before she finally did herself after shutting down the room, doing her best to keep from stimulating her cock anymore before she got back to the dorm room.

It was looking to be a long night…

#Patreon Reward #Pure Support Group #Pure Girl AU #Winter Schnee #Weiss Schnee #Elm Ederne #Ciel Soliel #Neon Katt #Fiona Thyme

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lenathesingingcat · 6 months

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So it’s the anniversary of That Scene, and obviously I’m sad! And I know I won’t be the only one, so here’s a cute crossover fic to ease our pain.

Canon compliant, afterlife, pre- Enjoltaire and Dasil (if people like this then I’ll write a part 2 where they talk to each other). Oh, and all my afterlife fics are set in the Ancient Greek Underworld, because that’s what I believe in and also why not?

Warnings: discussion of past character deaths (in the context of being in the afterlife), major spoilers for both Les Misérables and The Picture Of Dorian Gray. Seriously, if you haven’t read these books (or at least seen adaptations) then please come back and read this when you have! Major spoilers ahead, you have been warned!

Despite what people might think, Grantaire hadn’t immediately joined Les Amis again after dying hand in hand with Enjolras. He still undervalued himself, and didn’t feel that he should get to spend eternity with those brave revolutionaries. They’re probably already planning to go back and start a ghost revolution, he thought, and what do I have to offer them in that?

And he was a little scared, too. He didn’t know what he’d say if Enjolras wanted to talk about their last moments together, about what it had meant.

He didn’t think he could take it if Enjolras rejected him again.

He had no idea that Enjolras wanted him to come back, but didn’t look for him because he thought Grantaire held it against him how things ended.

So as soon as he found himself in the Underworld, which he was about as familiar with as a newly dead mortal could be from all the classics he’d read in life, he spoke to Hades, who was more than willing to help a mortal who would be spending eternity in his domain.

“Can I help you, young man?”

“…Actually… I was wondering if I could help you. Must be busy having to welcome everyone who dies around the world. Especially when most of the people who could help don’t seem to care…”

And a busy god isn’t going to turn down genuine help. So Grantaire got the job of helping to welcome souls to the Underworld, helping them to settle in and make peace with their lives.

Grantaire, as well as Les Amis, had died at the beginning of June. In the time Hades saved by letting Grantaire help him, he was able to plant a flower garden as a surprise for when Persephone returned. Now Grantaire was known as a friend to both of them.

***

It had been several decades since the revolution, Grantaire wasn’t keeping count. He had met many people who had died, some more tragically than others, and helped them to make peace with their lives and their deaths so they could be happy in the Underworld.

He tried not to think about whether he was happy.

He couldn’t, not when there were others who needed his help. Like the man in front of him, with hair as dark as his own and an expression somewhere between shock, pain, and absolute heartbreak.

“Hello, welcome to the Underworld. Please don’t panic, that’s Underworld in the Ancient Greek sense, everyone ends up here.” he said, his usual greeting. “Can you tell me your name?”

He gave a smile that Grantaire could tell wasn’t entirely genuine - not unusual for new arrivals whose last moments alive hadn’t been happy ones - and answered, “My name’s Basil. What’s yours?”

“Grantaire, also known as Capital R, although I realise that doesn’t really make sense if you don’t speak French. Everyone can understand each other here because… Underworld magic, I don’t really understand, you’d have to ask Hades about that…”

“Grantaire? The Grantaire, from Les Misérables? I’m sorry, I don’t know your first name…”

“What? I mean, I have been known to be quite miserable, but - ”

“No, I mean the book! Victor Hugo, the author, wrote a book about the revolution. Has no-one told you about it yet?”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it. But if it’s about the revolution, I doubt I come out particularly well in it…”

“Don’t say that! You do!” Basil said quickly, his smile looking far more real now, as if Grantaire’s story distracted him from his own. “You rose up for a revolution you hadn’t believed in until that moment, for love as well as freedom! And I found I could relate to you, because… well, you mentioned one time in the book that you used to paint, and I paint too, and…” his expression became more serious again, but hopeful. “Enjolras. If you’re real, he must be real too. Are you together now?”

Grantaire tried to ignore the longing in his heart at the mention of the revolutionary. He put on a knowing smile and deflected. “I think there’s a reason why you mentioned him while talking about how you could relate to me. Tell me, do you have an Enjolras of your own?”

Grantaire couldn’t have known the weight of that question.

Basil sighed deeply, and Grantaire could see the pain in his eyes. After a few moments, he shook his head sadly and said “…I thought I did…”

***

Sometimes, in cases with particularly tragic deaths, it took a while for souls to settle in. After hearing Basil’s full story, Grantaire had decided it would be best to make sure he didn’t have to be alone for a while.

So he had befriended him. Basil already knew a lot of Grantaire’s story from the book, but Grantaire still found a few things to tell him that Victor Hugo hadn’t included, and he learned a lot about his new friend.

Before long, they were both welcoming newly dead souls together.

***

Where was he?

He’d destroyed it, destroyed the thing that had changed the trajectory of his life so dramatically all those years ago. He’d destroyed it, so everything should be alright now, but where was he?

He was on a boat. On a boat crossing a river. How had he been moved, without his knowledge, from his attic to a boat crossing a river?

Where was he?

There were people near the riverbank, and the boat was almost there. He could ask them, then he’d have answers.

A voice. He heard a voice coming from near the riverbank, a voice he knew. “I need to know: are the punishments here eternal, or can people be forgiven?”

And he knew that voice, he knew that voice, and he knew it was about him, he wouldn’t be asking such a question for himself who had always done good and kind things, and suddenly he was consumed by a feeling of regret, regret for what he had done, regret for ever hurting him, a feeling so strong he almost fell to his knees.

He listened.

***

“How did Victor Hugo even know half of that?” Grantaire laughed because he thought he might cry otherwise. Basil had managed to find a copy of this The Miserables book he’d told Grantaire about, and wanted to read it with him so Grantaire could hear the many stories that were linked with his own. He’d agreed to hear it because his friend had wanted to, but he didn’t know how much more one-sided romantic tension between him and Enjolras he could take hearing about.

“I don’t know, he must have done a lot of research, I imagine…” Basil answered, but he was clearly distracted. He had the same wistful look in his eyes that he’d had when he first mentioned that he felt he and Grantaire were similar, and often had when one of them mentioned Enjolras. He’s thinking about Dorian again, Grantaire realised.

“Are you alright?”

“Something’s been bothering me recently… I think I need to ask Hades something…”

It wasn’t far to the riverbank. Hades stayed near the river Styx in case any newly arrived souls needed help after crossing the river to the Underworld. Charon’s boat hadn’t come in with the newest souls yet, so Grantaire was able to get his attention easily and explain that his friend had a question.

“I need to know: are the punishments here eternal, or can people be forgiven?”

That made sense. Grantaire had guessed it would be something to do with Dorian.

“It depends if they truly regret hurting others. If they do, they can be forgiven, and get to be with the people they love, if those people forgive them. But I think I know why you’re asking me this…”

“I forgive him. I don’t know what difference that makes, but I forgive him.”

“You would forgive him so easily?” Grantaire asked, surprised.

“Why are you surprised that I forgive him, Grantaire? You forgive Enjolras, don’t you?”

“That’s different.” Grantaire suddenly felt the need to defend Enjolras from this comparison. “Enjolras did everything he did for the good of France, for freedom for the people. …Enjolras didn’t kill me!”

“Would you feel differently if he had?”

Grantaire was about to answer, but stopped short. Would he?

Basil continued. “I’ve noticed many ways we’re alike, and this is one of them. Reading the book I could tell you were in love, maybe even too in love, devoted to the point of self detriment, sometimes.” He sighed. “So am I. Of course I forgive him. I’d already forgiven him before I stepped off the boat.”

A cry of… something (Joy? Relief? Regret? All three?) caught their attention, and Grantaire did a double take because he could have sworn he saw Enjolras among the souls who had just stepped off Charon’s boat. No, it couldn’t be Enjolras because Enjolras had died at the same time as Grantaire, he wouldn’t be with the new arrivals. One of them looked a lot like him, that was all.

Not-Enjolras was moved to tears by Basil’s passionate declaration of love. He spoke, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard,

“Do you mean that? After everything, you forgive me?”

***

To be continued!!

Now Dorian has arrived, will he get to be reunited with Basil? Will the two of them get Enjolras and Grantaire back together? (You know it’s yes to both, I need them all to be happy! But how?) Let me know if you liked this/if you want a part 2!

#the picture of les mis #enjoltaire #dasil #the picture of dorian gray #les misérables #exr #writing #do I dare go through the Dasil tag?#I think it’s going to be very angsty today #since it’s the anniversary of the murder #of course i WILL go through the tag #and cry probably #anyway i hope you like this

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elvenbeard · 4 months

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thanks for the tag for the WIP game!! man i wanna know about vince as much as the next guy but i also wanna hear more about your fantasy novel! what's it about or could you give your favorite paragraph, (even out of context would be fun to read!)

OOOHHHHH Thanks so much for asking!!! :DDD

Okay okay okay, where do I start... I haven't rambled about this in a while, but this story has like, not let go of me for over ten years now xD I had the first idea in 2012 just after I finished school and before I went to uni, and ever since it's gone through many changes and iterations and grown and developed.

Basically, it's set on this ancient continent that is deeply divided. On the one side you have one nation (vaguely fantasy humans) that came there as settlers, their leader really not a good guy at all. That was around 500 years ago, a long-ass time even for fantasy humans that live longer than we do, and the current generations are slowly beginning to make amends and try to make up on their ancestors' mistakes.

On the other side you have the natives of the land, amongst each other also divided into subgroups (vaguely fantasy elves and such), and they live super long. A lot of them were there when that original invasion happened, remember fighting in all the wars the humans brought them, and they're rightfully distrustful in the humans' intentions of wanting to make amends.

There is two rulers, the official king (human) who is in charge of the nation with his council and controls the larger portion of the land. On an island separate from the mainland is the other leader, not really a king but something a little more of a spiritual (although not religious - it's complicated) leader, who has no true political power but a very high standing and a lot of respect (usually at least... but his situation is special, too, and getting into details would really explode this post XD).

Then there's technically also a whole third nation who also is at home on that same continent, but they grew into their own people independently alongside for worldbuilding and lore reasons and have little contact to the two factions mentioned above - at least until the human king married one of their leader's daughters (and now it's getting really complicated).

So much to the political climate and general state of the world xD I intended it to be all very full of tension and side-eyeing each other, where you never really know whose intentions you can trust, and a lot of people really fear another war for definitive power over the land coming. But man, it's gonna be so much worse :D

As for the actual story, in the first book of the series (yes, this has gotten too complex by now to put it into one book XD) everything is told mostly through the eyes of two characters and their immediate friend groups/families on either side of the main conflict. On one side is Adoven, who is the son of the native spiritual-type leader, and he is basically an angsty teenager who cannot find his place in the world and goes against everything anyone with good intentions tries to tell him. He ends up becoming involved with a group of revolutionaries that want to incite a rebellion against the human king - or so he thinks at least. On the other side is Ricnan, who is a scholar and alchemy teacher at a prestigious school that actually is very inclusive and non-political in its policies. Everyone from all backgrounds is welcome. Ricnan himself is part of a native minority, but he has no problems with the human king (but he also recognizes that he is in a position of privilige compared to many others). All is well and he's leading a very calm and nice life until one day he saves a frightened young woman from some guards and realizes she has immense magical powers - and then, much to the dismay of his parter initially, brings her home and decides to raise her as his protége and daughter really xD

Shit majorly hits the fan the moment Adoven's and Ricnan's stories meet and basically cause a huge explosion and fallout that really threatens the peace substantially 👀

Apart from that I also have a couple of subplots going on, about soulmates, rebirth, ancient mistakes catching up to the present now, illegitimate children threatening thrones, world-shattering magic, shapeshifting, dragons, and all that fun stuff you encounter in fantasy novels occasionally that add to the already existing chaos xD Also, everyone is queer because I say so xD

I can share some paragraphs, maybe from some different characters viewpoints... Here's Ricnan and his partner, Elornan, sitting at the breakfast table and musing about the strange behavior of Neryssa, the young woman they sort of adopted xD

“What on earth was that?” Ricnan asked after a brief moment of silence, but tried to keep his voice low as he slowly turned to Elornan. Elornan took a bite from his bread and smiled at him slyly. “When I got home yesterday I saw her standing by the mailbox, even more red in her face than now,” he said, “I didn’t say anything, she didn’t mention it. But, oh well…” “I… still don’t quite understand I think. It’s too early in the morning,” Ricnan sighed. Elornan laughed. “Well, let’s say it like this,” he said, leaning in a little closer to Ricnan and lowering his voice ever so slightly, “Maybe she’s not hungry because her stomach is too full of butterflies already.” That woke Ricnan up properly. He looked at the door, to where they could hear Neryssa rummaging in her bag in the next room over. Then he turned back to Elornan. “You really think so? I mean… she never mentioned anyone special, she doesn’t seem too fond of the majority of her classmates even…” “I’m fairly sure,” Elornan said, taking another bun, “You know, I had someone else sitting at my table here quite some time ago, similarly bad at hiding his thoughts and feelings. It’s funny, you and Neryssa are not even related, but still alike in a lot of ways.” Now it was Ricnan’s cheeks to flush pink. “‘Quite some time ago’, I beg your pardon…” he mumbled with played offence. “Aaages,” Elornan continued to tease, “Actual Centuries… but time very well spent I’d say. Wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with someone else, either.” Ricnan chuckled as he cut open another warm, soft piece of bread. In the hallway Neryssa scurried past the kitchen door yelling a quick “Bye!” with one foot out the front door already before slamming it shut. Both Elornan and Ricnan couldn’t help but laugh out loud now. “Oh, to be young again, indeed,” Ricnan mused but Elornan shrugged. “Sure, some things are easier when you’re young, but admittedly, most aren’t,” he said, “Not for me at least.” “So you don’t mind me turning officially old tomorrow?” “'Officially old’,” Elornan snickered, “I’m still older than you.” “On paper, in numbers, yes,” Ricnan said, somewhat more sober now, “But physically, one day I’m gonna catch up and surpass you.” “That is still far in the future,” Elornan said, putting a hand on his arm, “and I prefer living in the here and now, not worrying about what might or might not happen someday.” “I like the sound of that,” Ricnan smiled.

And a very dramatic moment for Adoven:

His heart skipped a beat or two, and he felt like he fell forever, as slowly as a feather tossed into an endless abyss. He could only just make out the shock and disbelief on the open-mouthed face of the soldier standing above him, right before he stumbled backwards and disappeared into the office. He could still feel the rope, even though he clearly saw it dangling freely against the wall of the tower, but its sensation, its fibres had burned themselves into his palms. He fell backwards into nothingness, not even the winds able to hold him up anymore, seeming weak and insignificant compared to the violence they used to tear on their clothes, the contents of the office just minutes before. His distance to the wall of the tower grew, and he gained speed, could see his teardrops sparkling in the air above him as he fell further and further, beginning to question if this is how he'll be remembered. The wannabe-revolutionary that fell to his death from the Academy of Saratheas.

If you wanna snoop around a bit more, I have an (as of right now inactive) sideblog @ivendarea for this project with some stuff, and art and writing and everything else that sort of belongs into this world in its own tag on my main blog here: elvenbeard.tumblr.com/tagged/the%20king%20of%20ivendarea ("The King of Ivendarea" was the working title for this for the longest time until some time in 2022 I decided I will split this into several novels and referring to the first one "The Voice of the Voiceless" from there on!)

Thanks again so much for asking!! :D

#the king of ivendarea #the voice of the voiceless #original fantasy writing #my writing #answered asks #swearingcactus

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achelouise · 2 years

Text

For context, please read

words: around 1k

fandom: genshin impact/原神

pairing: (hinted) shikanoin heizou x gn!reader

warnings: no beta we die like tEPPEI

summary: you pay the consequences of underestimating heizou’s stubbornness.

a/n: how we all doing!! im just exploring golden apple archipelago and i can definitely see why everyone wanted it to come back. its really BIGGG and a lot of quests! i especially loved fischl’s play and the ravens, what a performance~ also the treasure hunting quest, it was so adventurous, and mona’s tower is SOSOSOSO pretty i took a bajillion pictures. i hope everyone else is enjoying this summer as much as i am! relax, have fun and enjoy it while it lasts~

Honestly, the trip to Seirai Island would’ve been much smoother if a certain crow wasn’t crying like hell by your side.

You will never, ever admit this, but you don’t exactly know how to drive a waverider. Usually, you would let your master show you the way, but he’s being occupied by some business with the Tenryou Commision. No form of communication was available without the police finding out, so you both had to stay out of touch for now.

That being said, you could always ask the traveler for help－ it was them that introduced you to such a mechanism, after all. But they’ve got enough on their plate, returning from the Chasm and all that. Plus, they’re planning to go to Sumeru next, and as much as you’d love to go with them, your duty binds you to this archipelago.

You swore it, after all. To die on the same soil that you were given birth into, is one of the many, many oaths you had to swear before being passed on your father’s handguard.

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like－ to travel vast seas and let the world become your home. But you would have to be frail to the point of settling down by then, in order to give up your current life. It was either that, or death.

You shake your sentimental thoughts away. Inazuma is plenty big.

The clouds turn from its thundery grey into a vast purple.

You’re not completely aware of the history of Seirai, but from the traveler’s letters, it seemed like a Thunder Manifestation once struck the land with its storms. It lives on the top of a peak, or, at least, its phantom. You have no intention of fighting it. Though the traveler is amazing and exceeds at every turn, they too found the manifestation to be annoying and time-consuming.

If the legendary traveler who split waves to cross Inazuma (maybe this was an exaggeration, but you learned the stories from Teppei, so) found an opponent to be annoying, how would you find it? You don’t want to find out.

The traveler also dealt with the Electro Thunderstorm in both Tataratsuna and on Seirai Island. Bless them. It seemed like they were erasing the burdens the gods from years ago laid. What next, were they going to remove the thunderstorm on Yashiori Island?

You did end up staying at the House with a Wisteria Crest, welcomed by a group of enthusiastic women who were saved from the clutches of a demon by ‘a man who looked just like you, dear, are you his relative?’, your stomach sank but you said nothing.

Maybe the stay was what angered the crow to annoy the hell out of you during this trip.

No, not a maybe. It’s a definite reason.

“CAW! CAW!”

“Oh Archons above, shut the fuck up already!”

You never liked your crow. You always hesitate in receiving orders from a person who shouldn’t have authority at all.

“We are nearing Seirai Island! Prepare yourselves, for danger looms! Caw!”

You glance at the unnatural landscape. Even from a distance, you see groups of Kairagis and Fatui walking in their own circle. “Yeah, totally didn’t notice that, thanks for the heads-up.” You roll your eyes.

The traveler never mentioned anything about a shrine… was it irrelevant? It seemed like it was, compared to a ruin deep below simmering waters and ‘annoying as hell primarily-colored barriers’. You couldn’t see how the shrine would survive in such hazardous circumstances; hell, you don’t even know if there are any actual residents here－ whether by its nature or by demons.

Right, demons.

“Do you have any more information on this supposedly attacked shrine?” You ask the crow.

It ignores your question with a loud shriek, and you have the thought to choke the bird again.

Yes, you had a very bad temper, but it’s a miracle anyone wouldn’t be living such a life. Perhaps it’s because you’re too young and still have that youthful passion or whatever, but you’d rather burn yourself alive than stay tired and dry.

… Huh. Maybe that was the Pyro vision’s origins.

Anyway, your vision has saved you on numerous occasions, so you have that to thank. Your rebellious streak would have caused you to die ten times over before your slayer path could even begin had it not existed.

The waverider pulls to a slow stop, with the casual waves of the ocean rocking it back and forth towards land.

You glide off the wind current the waverider provides you, and you glance at the sky. The crow is gone again, meaning that your destination is probably not far-off. You probably won’t see it again until your mission is complete.

… Could the maidens guarding the shrine possibly wait for a week or two?

You slap yourself. Hold yourself together. You’re here to save, not to get rid of that pesky bird.

Surprisingly, despite the threatening vast purple cloud that looms over the crackling sky, you don’t see thunder tailing your ass every five seconds. You’re not complaining, of course. This makes exploration much more convenient than Yashiori Island.

“Hey.”

“Jesus f-”

You brandish your sword with a wave. God, you’re really not on your A game today－

What the hell?

“Shikanoin?”

At your confusion, the detective chuckles. That irriating, stupid chuckle that makes you want to sock him in the face.

“Wha- but how?” You fumble.

“Hm? Did I make you speechless?” Shikanoin grins from ear to ear. “Well, there are some things in this world that should remain a secret－”

“You got a waverider here, didn’t you.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. Otherwise, how would he have come here? By riding a magical dragon? Please.

Shikanoin shrugs. “Would you believe me if I said I swam my way over?”

“Impossible.” You scoff. “Not with that little body.”

“The smallest are always the most cunning. They will do everything to reach the top.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re a rat, then? Gonna rat me out to the officials?”

Shikanoin feigned thinking about it. “Hmmm, no. How about I let your bird do all the talking?”

He grabs a rattling cage from behind and－ your heart drops as you see your crow going haywire in it.

As much as you find the crow a pain in the ass, it’s your messenger, the loudness to fill in quiet nights.

Nights without flare, knowing at least one person slipped from your grasp and being victims of the demons, can be quite easy to succumb to without the crow’s annoying jabs.

Plus, while you could replace a crow, you’ve gotten quite attached to yours－ even if you remember it as annoying and loud, the crow reflects your own personality－ hence you’re also annoying and loud, in other aspects.

“CAW! Absurd! How dare you capture me?!”

Pyro flickers on your fists, but you calm yourself. “What do you want?”

“I want to join your journey.” Shikanoin replies, without elaborating further.

You have half the mind to just steal it from him, but while Shikanoin isn’t a samurai, he can put up a fight. You will never let yourself live it down if your irrationality injured your crow.

“Argh, you little s－ fine.” You bite out, a hand gesturing Shikanoin to hand it over, but he merely smiles and waves his index finger.

“Nope, I’m keeping this.”

As if you would let him go the second you get back your crow. He’s going to get himself killed if he continues running around like a headless chicken.

“If you want to get killed so badly, I suppose I can’t stop you.” You roll your eyes.

“I won’t die.” Shikanoin smirks. “I have you after all－ my knight in shining armor~”

You whirl around and shoot a glare. This is why you prefer solo missions..“If you keep joking like that I’ll become the dragon that traps you in a tower.”

“Feisty.”

You ignore his comment and begin to walk.

Honestly, walking around with Shikanoin is just as annoying and you’d expect－ only this time, he isn’t a crow that fumes at your retorts. It’s you that keeps ending the jabs with a huff.

You’re an introvert, through and through－ just one of those extreme kinds where everything is a nuisance to you.

And yet, you can’t bear to see the world crumble because of your ignorance, so you push on.

“Sooo, where’re you from?”

“Inazuma City.”

“Your parents?”

“Doesn’t concern you.”

“Your occupation?”

“… Really?”

“Archons, you’re so boring to talk to.”

“I’m sorry, did I ask for you to, oh great and noble one?”

Shikanoin pouts, and you find it strangely suiting the brat. “We’re partners now. Speaking of, I don’t even know your name!”

“Again, none of your business.” You snort, your eyes still scanning the area. “It said there was a shrine… what’s that all about?”

At this, Shikanoin perks up. “Shrine? You mean the Asase Shrine?”

“… Yes. It refused to elaborate.”

“Hm? How can a shrine survive in such a deserted environment?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t think anyone’s been here for years. Except for the traveler, of course.”

Shikanoin squints his eyes, and points. “There’s a Statue of the Seven… we can probably get a wider view up there.”

“… Doesn’t having a Statue of the Seven usually mean it is a sign of having a god’s protection?”

You both share a look. “Probably not. Not with this… mess.”

“Then why…?”

“A sign of sympathy? Or was it originally there, and the storm had appeared only after?”

Thinking about it, you snort. Yeah, right. Sympathy your ass. The Raiden Shogun, preserver of eternity and killed those who defied against her, sympathizing with a product of another god’s death? The two can’t possibly be linked.

Be careful.

There is life everywhere. You don’t wield some super ability to be one with nature－ but you don’t remember when this voice has ever crept into your head.

It has never once harmed you, and aided you on many occasions, especially during the final selection, so you trust it, more than yourself… even though you’re sure relying on this voice too much will one day be your downfall.

Your senses sharpen at the sudden thought. “Be on your guard, detective.” You remind.

Shikanoin was silent, and you turned around to face him. His face has dropped its playful grin. Hmm, good. At least even people like him takes things seriously.

Something is circling this area.

But what?

#demon slayer #genshin impact #kny x reader #kny x y/n #kny x you #gender neutral reader #heizou x reader #heizou x y/n #genshin heizou #heizou x you

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starshipsys · 24 days

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🛰️an intro post? After all this time? Youbetcha! I’m writing this for the sake of people being able to get to know us better. Our system uses two different tumblr accounts and the alters that use one don’t want to be associated with the others, so this is only a few alters. We’re a DiD system, diagnosed, and interested in making friends! Please don’t involve us in syscourse or any discourse really. We’re not interested in harassment campaigns, mob mentality, or anything like that. We won’t even unfollow someone unless you can give us direct receipts. From you, not a link to some callout post or whatever people do nowadays. If You, yourself, can’t provide us with screenshots of someone saying something unquestionably heinous, in context, don’t bother.

Here’s some info about us! We’re a system of 26. I’m Merlin. Our system name is Starships. The body’s name is Nova. What is the difference between me, the system, and the body? Think of a boat with a crew. I’m the captain, Merlin. The crew is the system, Starships, and each crew member has their own name. The boat is the body, Nova. It has habits and mannerisms that we all adopt when we come into front, but those aren’t really us. None of us are the “main alter” or the body’s “real personality;” all of us are fragments of the child the body used to be, who grew up in different ways. Each alter is like the tip of a tree’s branch. No twig is the “real tree” but we’re all part of it, and if you go back far enough, we were all part of the same trunk.

I’ll introduce our alters now! I’m not going to introduce everyone, because some of them don’t want to be associated with this account. I’m going to write their emoji so that you know who’s who, but I’m writing all the introductions.

🧤Agate, they/them. While none of us like the term “little,” syskid is accepted, but none of us feel entirely like children, we just retained childlike qualities. Agate is one of those alters, they’re the more sensitive and emotional part of our childhood.

🖤Coghlan, he/it. He just migrated from the other account to this one because he changed allegiances. He’s cold, steely, and sharp. Usually cuts right to the chase in conversations. He’s also bad at social cues, but he’s caring and protective, despite his hard exterior.

🪩Boppie, they/them. Excited and energetic party animal! Just wants to have fun, especially dancing and anything related to music. They like having friends because it means more opportunities for fun.

🔭Estella, she/they. Creative and cheerful, friendly catgirl. Likes videogames, especially Minecraft. Wants to learn how to code and program games. We are unfortunately very bad at computers.

🌺Haven, she/he. The hopeless romantic. Craves friendship and love, and is very friendly and warm and welcoming. Loves to shower people with affection. Likes to tell people when we appreciate them.

✏️Indigo, they/them. Creative aspects of our childhood. Has dreams of becoming a novel writer, cartoon artist, and/or animator. Loves to write new stories and create whole new worlds.

🍠Kakxyl, he/any. Basically our system’s father figure. Protective and compassionate towards us, he tends to guide us to do healthy and useful things. Doesn’t usually get involved in things until they get dangerous, though. He recently got transformed and is still figuring himself out.

🫐Lynx, he/they. Silent and protective. Lynx cannot use language to communicate, though he is pretty creative with mixing together pictures, screenshots, and emojis to deliver his message. He usually doesn’t have much to say anyway. He tends to front to take the brunt of an emotional attack on us, so he usually only fronts when something is wrong. If he isn’t frantically trying to tell you something then it’s probably not something you can help.

🛰️Merlin, they/any. I’m Merlin :]. The others describe me as an emotional suppressor. I’m not very introspective and I don’t really know what I want or what I stand for. Mostly I’m just here as a shell, to make us appear to have some semblance of normalcy to others. I front when in-person social interactions are required.

🍥Nyan, they/he/she. The silliness of our childhood! They like being loud, annoying, and hyper. They love candy and high energy music and bright colors. The nyan cat song is basically constantly playing in their head.

🩵Present, she/they/it. Soft, quiet, and delicate. Very shy, but craves companionship. She blames herself for a lot of things that are outside her control and is a bit of a perpetual people-pleaser.

🔥Xray, he/xe (xe/xim/xis, like he/him/his). Omnipotent primordial eldritch deity 1/3. God of destruction. Represented by fire, the sun, death, light, sharp angles, spikes, stone, blades, gore, and metal. Values truth, bravery, closure, curiosity, finality, persistence, and order. Has a composed demeanor and authoritative role in the system.

🌲Yarrow, it/they/yey (yey/yem/yeir, like they/them/their). Omnipotent primordial eldritch deity 2/3. Goddex of transformation. Represented by greenery, clouds, fungi, insects, the moon, mirrors, frost, trees, armor, and mountains. Values empathy, change, introspection, attentiveness, observation, rebellion, and protection. Has a guarded demeanor and informative role in the system.

🌊Zenith, ze/zer (ze/zer/zers, like she/her/hers). Omnipotent primordial eldritch deity 3/3. Goddess of creation. Represented by the ocean, cosmos, feathers, fur, scales, flowers, rainbows, shadows, eggs, and pens. Values humility, kindness, creativity, adventure, exertion, passion, and beauty. Has a loving demeanor and supportive role in the system.

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kitkat-kattywack · 1 year

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Why doesn’t anyone ever talk about the extroverts with mental illness(es?)

I’ve had anxiety and social anxiety disorders since I was around five. I developed depression sometime in fifth grade or so and I was diagnosed with both in the sixth grade. My anxiety manifests as fear and a need for organization, sometimes panic when either get out of hand, while my depression ranges from irritability and rage to numbness and nothing, to a sense of loneliness so intense it feels like I’m burning from the inside out.

Because of my mental illnesses, I thought I was an introvert for years. Almost like I was using it as a way to reason why I was always by myself, reading or drawing rather than talking or playing with my classmates. Despite the running history I’ve had of trying to talk to and play with the other kids, actively seeking socialization and any fun activity possible (there came a point where I had been rejected or just plain insulted so much that I stopped trying and waited for others to come to me instead).

From eighth grade to my freshman year of high school (I’m an American for context) I had a sizable friend group that would organize days out and ‘parties’ and other fun shit at least once a week. When we weren’t planning something, we were just hanging out after school rather than going home. With all that fun and togetherness, I realized that I had been an extrovert all along, and not only do I thrive on socializing, I had been starved for it.

But high school is high school and my friend group dissolved.

My point is, though I’ve learned and gotten better at taking the first step when meeting somebody (thanks to a hospital program) and my medication keeps me from being mute and terrified of everyone that comes near me, I still have trouble sometimes. If I pick up a vibe that’s judgmental, not friendly, cliquey, I’ll revert back to my guarded, defensive attitude from school. Sometimes I need to be told that I’m welcome, even if I’m weird. That I’m liked.

A day alone in my bedroom is hell for me. To be alone is hell for me. I don’t hate myself, that’s not what it is, but my mental illnesses hate me and repeat what has been said to me in my mind. I need to be with other people, to be out, or I get sent into a depression episode.

(TLDR) I realize that mine is a unique case and that most people who happen to see this probably didn’t read it or if they did, are too busy with their own problems or simply don’t care. But I wonder if there’s other extroverts like me, that love and thrive social action but struggle to create or find those settings. Not a stereotypical “social butterfly” image that extroverts are usually given, that makes friends insanely easily, but wants to.

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therovingstar · 11 months

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Illustrious

Summary: When everyone lowkey wants to be your favorite. Chill fun with the OG Scions, set sometime post-5.3, I reckon. ~1600 words.

She should have known to stay away when she entered the Rising Stones only for every eye in the room to immediately find her. Odzaya resists a reflexive pause in her step and continues on her way to the bar, where Lucianne greets her with a tellingly amused smile and her usual cup of tea. “Should I be alarmed?” she asks, just loud enough for the bartender to catch, as she accepts the earthenware mug with a scaled hand and appreciative nod.

“Depends on your answer,” Lucianne cryptically replies, and lifts an encouraging eyebrow before scooting her way back down the counter with a chuckle.

Not promising. With a silent, preparatory sigh, Odzaya turns from the counter and, pointedly ignoring the half-dozen stares that follow, makes her way to one of the sitting area’s armchairs.

Before she has taken her first sip or even fully sat her rear into her seat, Lyse is in her sights, and practically in her face.

“Who got you to join the Scions?” she asks without preamble, hands planted on her red-clad hips as she stands before her.

Odzaya lifts a thick violet brow, just barely seen beneath locced bangs. “Good to see you, Lyse. How is Ala Mhigo’s restoration progressing?”

“Slowly but in a good direction. It’s annoying work sometimes but worth it. Raubahn and M’naago say ‘hi’. Who got you to join the Scions?” The first three statements fly nearly over her head, quick in succession as they come. The fourth – clearly considered by the monk to be the most important – is slowed just enough to register.

“Context?” Odzaya asks simply, eyebrow rising higher.

“Thancred says it was him,” Lyse vaguely clarifies. “But whoever of us you met first gave you the invitation, yeah? Between Thancred, Shtola, and Papalymo and me, it was us, right? It’s practically on record.”

Is it? Before she can ask, Thancred speaks up from his position leaning against Tataru’s desk.

“There is no record, Lyse. Just your word, which is wrong.” He tips his chin toward Odzaya with a small grin. “Welcome back, love.”

“Mm,” she sounds in acknowledgment as she settles back against the cushions and brings her mug to her lips, just as Lyse continues.

“Well, maybe not on written record,” the blonde amends, turning to the older man. “But it might as well be. We met her while investigating the Twelveswood, remember? Gave her her invitation to the Waking Sands after she helped us out. That’s how she got there.”

Thancred lets out an incredulous laugh. “Before or after you knocked your block and imagined it?”

“What?!”

“They’ve been arguing about it for near a bell, now.” Odzaya looks up to see Y’shtola planting herself at the nearby table, gaze narrowed in what can only be perceived as fond exasperation. “Lyse refuses to let it go.”

“Because I’m right!” the young woman insists.

“Meaning wrong.”

“Shut up, Thancred!”

“How did this begin?” Odzaya asks in a rare – and usually regretted – indulgence of curiosity.

“Fond reminiscence,” Urianger supplies, amusement writ clear on his face. “Knowledge of thy visit to the Sylphs prompted Lyse to recall your first fateful meeting ‘neath the great boughs of the Elementals’ domain.”

“You were practicing your conjury, remember?” Lyse takes over. “Saved Papalymo from getting nearly plucked up off the ground by a buzzard.”

“There’s some hilarious imagery,” Thancred comments.

Odzaya nods. “In the Central Shroud, near Bentbranch. I recall.” Though she was not so much practicing her conjury as ensuring the young Sylphie did not kill herself practicing hers.

“See?!” Lyse exclaims, aiming the declaration at Thancred. The older man graces her with a smirk.

“Odzaya’s memory is not the one we are calling into question. She would also recall our own first meeting underneath the Sultantree, yes?” He meets her gaze expectantly.

Odzaya takes her time enjoying a long draught of tea before agreeing. “We defeated a voidsent.”

“And in so doing rescued the Sultana,” he adds, his smirk widening at Lyse as if to brag. She sniffs at him.

“As if that’s relevant.”

“Of course it is. How else than through such a serendipitous partnership would she have been convinced to join us at the Waking Sands? Which, for the proverbial record, is located in the very region I monitored?”

“Proximity doesn’t mean anything! Zaya showed up in the Shroud long before she ever made it to you out there in the desert!” The monk turns back to Odzaya. “Right?”

“Mm...” the other woman begins, happily distracted by the taste of nutmeg and heavy cream on her tongue.

“Ha!” Lyse exclaims, taking the monotone intonation for confirmation as she whips herself around to Thancred, only...

“No,” the woman finishes.

...to whip right on back around in a near-complete circle, her expression plummeting in surprise. “Huh? No?”

“Ha,” Thancred mocks. Lyse shoots him a barbed look.

“I did reach Thanalan first,” Odzaya corrects, circling a clawed finger around the mug’s rim before bringing the residue she finds to her mouth. “By boat, coming from Kugane. I met Thancred soon after, and not long after that he gave me the name of the Scions and invited me to the Waking Sands.”

“But you never mentioned him when you met Papalymo and me!” Lyse questions. Odzaya briefly lifts a shoulder.

“I cared not for the invitation, nor the thought of involvement in an organization.” She spares a glance in Thancred’s direction. “Nor the not-so-subtle flirtations of a random rogue I met beneath a tree in the desert. I chose to forget the encounter occurred.”

“Are you serious?” the man questions with an incredulous grin. Odzaya grants him a small, teasing smirk, and he loudly chuckles. “Well, damn. Consider me effectively humbled.”

“Guess that extends to both of us.” With a slight pout, Lyse plops herself on the arm of Odzaya’s chair, the long red silk of her sleeve draping itself over Odzaya’s lap. “If you were looking to avoid joining any groups, I can only assume that means Papalymo and I didn’t convince you, either.”

“No,” Odzaya confirms, her smirk widening when Lyse answers her bluntness by wriggling herself partially into her seat, only to settle for the chair’s arm when the spikes of her friend’s curled tail promise something decidedly different from comfort.

“Well, if we failed to convince you, how’d you end up joining?”

Reflexively, Odzaya glances over her mug’s rim, sunset eyes finding their way across the table, only to meet Y’shtola’s own misty gray gaze.

Urianger catches the subtle exchange, and his delight is obvious. “And the sorceress strikes once more,” he dramatically intonates. Lyse whips her head around for what seems the umpteenth time.

“Shtola?!”

The scholar in question merely lounges further into her own seat, her own cup of tea in hand. She takes a leisurely sip, and the subsequent clink of the porcelain on the accompanying saucer seems to sound her answer better than words.

“Why do I feel like we should have known?” Thancred comments with an amused shrug.

“But that’s not fair!” Lyse exclaims, eyeing Odzaya. “You were never in Limsa! Were you?”

“For a brief time, yes,” she corrects once more. It was her original destination after leaving Kugane, in fact, only for the small ship to be blown off course by an unforeseen storm. It found purchase instead in Thanalan, at the docks of the Silver Bazaar, from which she found her way to Ul’dah on foot.

An attempted guiding by higher powers, it may have been, the more she thinks on it. An annoyance, it most certainly was.

“Just long enough to capture the attentions of the local populace,” Y’shtola confirms. “The commercial link between Limsa and Kugane does make the citizenry more accustomed to foreigners. Nevertheless, a rather elaborately garbed Au Ra adorned with both blade and scepter set tongues wagging rather enthusiastically when she arrived via airship.”

“Unsurprising,” Thancred comments, a teasing wink already on hand when Odzaya briefly meets his gaze.

“I shall enjoy my respite in peace now, yes?” she inquires of Lyse, the question just short of sarcastic as she makes a point of raising her mug back to her lips. The monk releases a final, resigned gust of air and theatrically drapes herself along the armchair’s back, her blonde head alighting upon Odzaya’s shoulder.

“I suppose,” she says, a pout pulling at her voice as well as at the bow of her lips. “Still think it’s cheating,” she mutters.

“Simply be glad our illustrious friend found her way into our midst, dear Lyse,” Urianger soothes. “Twas a united effort, one could say, for our prayers to be answered as they were.”

Just then, the din of Mor Dhona’s marketplace heralds the opening of the Rising Stone’s doors. A familiar sight soon follows: an enthusiastically arguing Alisaie, her arms a tangle of emphatic gestures, and a calmly protesting Alphinaud, at whom said gestures are aimed. The former only pauses in her tirade when she catches sight of Lyse’s figure and, apparently more importantly, the high-pinned fall of Odzaya’s locs partially obscured behind it. “Aha!” she exclaims. “Zaya will clear this up!” And against her brother’s protestations, she makes a beeline for them. “Zaya! Who do you rely on most amongst the Scions?”

Once more, the Warrior of Light lowers her mug, her expression characteristically neutral but for the slightest pinched purse to her lips. “And soon to find my way back out,” she quietly declares.

#odzaya malaguld #scions of the seventh dawn #ffxiv fic #storytime #hey look i wrote something! its a miracle!#trying to practice more with zaya's voice and pov #it's almost always easier writing from another's perspective #cuz they're almost always more forthcoming with their thoughts/emotions/etc.#zaya's a closed book even to herself sometimes

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