#don't try to understand the light source here

[fudgelling-away]

Don't panic, he's not attacking! He's saving your butt.

What is he looking at? Maybe you were just about to fall off a ladder or *insert something that makes sense*

Let me know how you freaked him out so much. Or better yet, draw what was going on a second ago!

In any case, you owe him a new coffee, that's for sure.

[sukunasweetheart]

Sukuna, a middle aged man jaded by the harsh realities of his life. He steps outside for a smoke nearby a convenience store, completely bored out of his mind.

A lady is handing out flyers nearby, although nobody is bothering to look her way, including sukuna himself.

You approach the man who's getting irritated by the lighter that refuses to work in his hand.

"Hello there, sir. Would you be interested in taking up classes for arts and craft?" You offer the cute flyer up.

Sukuna scoffs. Is she serious?

"No thanks."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a bit more colour in your life."

He's too exhausted at this point to get angry at a random woman on the street.

"...You're not too far off, i suppose," sukuna mutters, still trying to get the spark to stay on his lighter. "Even so, I'm not interested in the likes of arts and craft. Do i look like a child to you?"

You withdraw your offer of your flyer, and inspect him for a moment.

"Arts and craft can be enjoyed by anyone, regardless of age. But moving past that... you seem a bit down. If you'd like to confide in a stranger for a night, I'm happy to listen."

What a strange, persistent woman. Sukuna gives up on his lighter, and takes out the unlit cigarette in his mouth to think back for a moment. One thing does come to mind.

"I'm not feeling down. But i remembered something, now that i think about it..." he confesses, feeling weirdly compelled to tell you about it.

"Today is supposed to be my birthday."

Birthdays have never been special to him. Nobody celebrated his birth as a child, and in turn, he's never paid attention to the birthdays of others.

"Oh, happy birthday. Are you doing anything special for yourself today?"

"No. I've never cared for birthdays. And I'm getting too old for that anyway."

"Well, that won't do... Hold on for a second."

Puzzled, sukuna looks back at you but you've already gone inside the convenience store. Whatever you're up to now, couldn't possibly be more enticing than getting in a proper smoke right now. Sukuna begins to zone out.

He only snaps out of it when something mildly cold grazes past his cheek, leaving a ticklish and moist sensation on his skin as it disappears upon impact.

Bubbles. Bubbles are flying past him, and floating away into the sky.

For a moment, he gets mesmerised by the swirl of colours that are harboured in each one. Even just from the light of this dingy street, they fly up while holding a multitude of different colours inside them. Time seems to slow for a split second, and he doesn't understand why.

His gaze follows the trail to identify it's source. And unsurprisingly, it's you, standing behind him. You blow a couple more out, and then grin at him childishly. He finally looks at your face properly for the first time.

"Birthday bubbles. For the birthday man," you chuckle sheepishly, knowing that you probably look a bit silly right now. You put the bubble wand back into the small bottle of the soapy mixture, and screw it tightly.

"Here, you can have it. Next time you're feeling a bit antsy, why don't you try blowing some yourself? They're pretty, aren't they?"

You also hand him a different small item.

"And i also threw in a little something else, while i was at it."

He looks down, and sees that it's a new lighter. He slowly pulls his hand out of his pocket to take both of them from your hands.

"I hope you get to do something more special next year. Birthdays are supposed to be joyful, after all," you comment.

"Thanks for putting up with my nosiness. Farewell."

And then you leave him after a quick wave.

Sukuna stares wordlessly as you walk off, wondering what to name this ticklish feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.

The small bottle in his palm reminds him of a moment in his childhood. Kids in the park bragging about their bubble wands that were gifted to them. the laughs that resounded as they all ran off to catch the fragile spheres as they blew away in the wind. The tiny feelings of envy in his heart.

The item he tucks away into his pocket is the lighter. And when nobody is watching, he blows a couple more bubbles into the night sky.

-

Every time he passes by that convenience store, the thought of you comes to his mind. A flashback of your smile in the back of his mind. Every so often, he comes to this particular store. Despite having closer options, he comes to this specific one.

At times, sukuna regrets not taking one of the flyers that you were handing out. He wouldn't have had to mope around a convenience store in hopes of running into you again.

Today is a rainy day, and this calls for a hot piping cup of instant ramen. He doesn't usually enjoy convenience store food, but he wants a reason to stay around inside for a bit longer.

He needs to wait five minutes for the noodles to soften. In this time, he stares out the glass frame of the store, and watches the various rows of people walking past with their umbrellas opened.

There appears to be one anomaly in the crowd, however. Running without shelter from the rain, clutching her bag as if it contains something important in there. Sukuna realises that it's you.

Forgetting about his instant ramen, sukuna grabs his umbrella and dashes out the door.

You're mildly panicking about being stuck behind the red light at the zebra crossing without anything to save you from the rain, but the sensation of the droplets hitting your body come to a stop all too suddenly.

You look up, and there's a black umbrella sheltering you, big and strong looking. You spin around and recognise the stranger with pink hair and sharp eyes. Seemingly out of breath.

He signals to the light that has now turned green behind you, and ushers you forward to cross the road before you can say anything to him.

Now safely on the other side of the road, you begin to converse with him.

"It's you! Hello. Thank you for sheltering me. How have you been?"

"... So-so. Nothing's changed since the last time we met."

"I see. You look better than last time, though." You get the feeling that his eyes have a little more light in them.

Sukuna doesn't really get what you mean, but he moves on.

"What’s in your bag that's so important for you to be protecting it like that?" He asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Oh, this? I literally just bought some brand new origami paper... i can't risk getting them wet and unusable. The children would be disappointed."

"Origami, huh? How original."

"Hey! That's not all... there's a lot of options i offer them. They voted on origami this time."

"You got a lot of people signed up?"

"Not really... but I'm sure it'll start picking up soon. Slowly, one at a time."

You smile up at him hopefully.

"...is the offer still open?"

You cock your head to the side slightly, confused. Sukuna grits his teeth, feeling a little bashful about having to ask more specifically.

"You know. Lessons for grown adults."

"Oh! Of course, anytime! Would you like to come sign up today?"

"Do you offer one-on-one sessions too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Alright. Let’s go."

Sukuna can't fathom the words that are coming out of his own mouth. But fuck it, what's the worst that could happen? You've somehow intriged him, and he can't think of a better way to approach you.

You chatter his ears off along the way, and he nods along while his shoulder gets wet from the way he leans his umbrella closer to your side.

[spencersmopbucket]

Fatal Attraction (1) | Paul Lahote

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader Summary: When you, Edward Cullen's scorned ex lover, return to Forks to answer a desperate cry for help, you don't expect fate to be easy on you. However, you certainly didn't expect to find your mate or to find that your mate is a 6'5 hunk of mortal enemy.

Part 2

For someone in your situation, you really should've been far more unpleasant than you were.

You were 104 years old. You were born in (hometown), which was very, very far from where you were now. And at this point in your life, you wandered around aimlessly, sight seeing beautiful things (many of which you'd already seen), hunting to quench a thirst you wished would just die out, and hurting.

You were hurt. You were angry. The only reason you hadn't taken to the Volturi to end yourself was because they'd want your abilities and would force you into the Guard.

You had a lover up until around two years ago.

Edward and his coven were incredible. They were the type of family you so badly wanted to be a part of. They perfectly understood each other -- protecting, cherishing, and loving each and every person in the family. You were part of it for decades, the one person to fully understand the most complex of the group.

When you'd met Edward, you were a nomad. Your bleached skin sparkled in the sunlight of the mountain top, basking in it, enjoying the warmth as it heated up the porcelain surface. But someone was near. The scent was pungent in the middle of the forest.

Linen. Old books. A faint touch of cedar. Your nostrils flared, your red eyes darting around to find the source.

He revealed himself when he was ready to.

A beautiful man with golden eyes. Bronze hair. A curious yet tense look on his face.

For a long, breathless moment, neither of you moved. The forest was silent around you, save for the occasional whisper of the wind.

"You shouldn't be here," Edward said finally, his voice low, cautious but not unkind.

You tilted your head, studying him with equal curiosity. "Is this claimed territory?"

The man analyzed your red eyes, clearly finding that your carnivorous habits differed from his own (based on his bloodless, golden eyes.)

The man analyzed your red eyes, clearly finding that your carnivorous habits differed from his own (based on his bloodless, golden eyes).

"Not claimed," he said carefully, "but protected."

You let the words sink in, weighing his meaning. Protected. By him? By others like him?

"And you're the protector?" you asked, your voice light but edged with curiosity.

A faint smile ghosted across his face, almost reluctant. "One of them."

You hopped up onto a tree, sitting on the limb. Your booted feet swung as you studied him. You were silent for a few moments, just taking him in. Trying to make sense of him.

"If you're protecting a little town in Washington, your diet must be a bit unorthodox." You finally commented, picking at a piece of bark on the tree. "However, I already knew that. Your eyes." You noted.

Edward chuckled under his breath — a low, almost musical sound. "You're observant."

You shrugged lazily. "I have to be. Survival depends on it."

For the first time, a genuine smile broke through on his face. It was faint, but it softened him, made him look less like the wary protector and more like someone... lonely. Someone who might understand you in ways you had long ago given up hoping for.

Humming, you hopped down from the tree, slowly and curiously approaching the man. He simply looked down at you, his height greater than yours.

Extending a hand, your lips stretched over glinting teeth.

"Well, protector, I'm Name. And you are?"

For a second, he just stared at your hand — as if he wasn't used to such easy gestures, as if he didn't trust it. Then, almost hesitantly, he reached out and clasped your hand in his. His skin was like marble: cool, impossibly smooth, yet not unpleasant. Same as yours.

"Edward," he said, his voice soft but sure.

A jolt of something electric and sharp traveled up your arm at the contact — a feeling you hadn't felt in decades, maybe since you were human. Judging by the slight darkening of Edward’s eyes, he had felt it too.

You didn't pull away. Neither did he.

"Edward," you repeated, tasting the name. Your smirk deepened. "Fitting for a knight in shining armor, don't you think?"

That earned you another one of those almost-smiles — shy, fleeting, precious.

"I'm hardly a knight," he said under his breath, almost like he didn't mean for you to hear it.

You cocked your head, still not letting go of his hand. "No? And here I thought you were protecting the poor defenseless humans of Forks."

Softly letting his hand go, you stepped away.

"Alright," you cleared your throat unnecessarily. "I hardly like to intrude on other people's territory. I'll be on my way, Edward."

For a moment, he looked conflicted — as if some part of him warred against letting you leave. His golden eyes flickered, studying you with an intensity that made the cool air between you feel somehow heavier.

"You don't have to," he said suddenly, the words slipping out quicker than he seemed to intend.

You paused, brows lifting slightly in surprise.

Edward shifted his weight, almost awkwardly, a hand raking through his bronze hair. "I mean... you're not a threat. Not to us. Carlisle would want me to at least offer you... a place to rest. To be safe. If you need it."

You blinked at him, trying to read between the lines. Caution. Kindness. Curiosity. Loneliness. It was all there, laid bare even in his tightly controlled voice.

"You don't even know me," you said, your tone gentler now.

He smiled — truly smiled this time, though it was still small. "Not yet."

Your heart — what was left of it — twisted painfully in your chest. For the first time in a very long time, you felt something other than loneliness clawing at your ribs.

Hope.

And damn it, it scared you.

You forced a smirk back onto your face to mask the storm inside you. "Alright then, protector," you said, your voice light and teasing as you turned slightly, giving him a look over your shoulder. "Lead the way."

Edward hesitated for just a heartbeat — then he followed.

You and Edward were passionate. Happy. It was almost enough to ignore the fact that the love between the two of you wasn't a mating bond, and you both still had someone out there that wasn't each other.

You became a part of the family. You moved in to the house, got enrolled in school, curved your diet. For years, you had a life with the Cullen coven. You had a life with Edward.

Until the arrival of a new student. Until the arrival of her. The human pet.

The difference in his behavior was immediately evident. After the first day, he literally fled from Forks, declining your offer to join him. The first red flag.

After that, you slowly grew apart, until he finally broke your heart.

You had seen it coming. You weren’t blind. But still — nothing could’ve prepared you for the way it shattered you.

Edward didn't say much when he ended things. He barely looked you in the eye. And when he did, you saw it — the guilt, the confusion, the pull toward someone that wasn't you. It wasn't rage you felt when he left you standing there in the woods, empty and alone. It was something quieter. Colder. A grief so deep it hollowed you out from the inside.

You didn’t beg. You didn’t cry. You simply stood there, the mist curling around your ankles, and let it happen.

Let him go.

Because if you were anything, you were proud. And no matter how much you loved him, you would not fight for a heart that was already lost to someone else.

You packed your things the next night, not saying a word to the others — not even Alice, who had tried so desperately to reach you through the swirling storm inside you.

And you left Forks.

You wandered again, like you had before. Only this time, the world was duller. Colder. Not even the most beautiful sunsets or bustling cities could stitch together the broken pieces inside of you.

Two years passed.

Two years of wandering, of surviving, of refusing to fall completely apart. Until one day, a call came. A desperate plea from Carlisle.

A threat bigger than any before. An urgent need for help.

And despite everything — despite the way your chest still ached at the thought of that house, that family, that boy with the bronze hair and golden eyes — you answered.

Why was your help so important to the Cullens?

You were powerful. You had an ability, as Alice, Edward, and Jasper did.

The Volturi called it the "empathic flame." It was incredibly rare — in fact, the Kings were certain that you were the only vampire alive today that had it. That's what made you so valuable to anybody, let alone the Cullens.

You had the rare ability to manipulate and amplify another's emotions to the point where they physically manifested as flames. If focused enough, they could scorch an enemy, burning through skin and eventually destroying them. The fire wasn't just a byproduct of their anger, their hatred, or their fear — it was a direct result of your control. A unique and terrifying weapon.

At first, the power had been uncontrollable, like a spark that you couldn't quite quench. When you'd first discovered it, you'd learned the hard way: emotions weren't just fleeting feelings — they were forces you could bend, twist, and manipulate, sometimes with deadly consequences.

But it took years to learn to temper it, to refine it. Now, you could do things with it that most vampires couldn't fathom. You could turn a vampire's ferocity against them, suffocating their reckless aggression in a blanket of overwhelming fear. Or, you could use it on your own side — amplifying the calm in a battle-hardened vampire, focusing their clarity to make them nearly unstoppable.

The Cullen family had come to rely on you in ways they never expected.

You were the shield and the sword — a counterbalance to their strengths. Alice’s foresight, Edward’s reading of minds, and Jasper’s emotional control were a force to be reckoned with, but you were the wild card. A weapon that could end the battle before it even started.

Even when the Volturi had gotten wind of your ability — and they had, long before you ever left Italy — they understood just how rare you were. And just how dangerous.

That was why you had to be careful. Careful about when you used it, careful about how you used it, and careful about who you trusted. The Volturi would take your ability in an instant if they thought they could harness it for their own purposes. You knew that. You’d seen what they did to others who were "too valuable" to let go.

Stepping back into Forks felt like going against every shred of pride you had. If you weren't so empathetic, you wouldn't have. You hated it there. You hated the reminder of what had happened, how lonely you were. You hated the scent of human blood, which you'd been struggling not to turn back to.

You preferred somewhere rural. Somewhere that no one else would find you.

Of course, Carlisle had searched for you. He wouldn’t give up. He never had, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t now. The Cullens always had their way of worming their way back into your life, even when you wanted to stay gone.

But what made it worse? What made it more unbearable? The fact that you couldn’t kill Carlisle’s son. You hated him — or at least, you used to — but there was a reason why your heart still clenched when you thought about him. And that, that was the weakness you couldn’t rid yourself of.

Turning the corner onto the familiar road that led toward the house that had once been home, your thoughts drifted, unwillingly, to Edward. You could still hear the sound of his voice in your mind — the way he said your name so softly, how his lips always brushed against yours, almost too gently, as if you were something breakable.

And that... that was why you had left. Because you couldn’t stay in the same room as him. Not when everything about him made you ache with longing and resentment.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. The Cullens needed your help now. An enemy was rising, and even with your power, you weren't sure what the outcome would be. But there was no backing out. Not now.

You made it to the door and raised your arm to knock. Before you could even manage, the door opened. Arms were thrown around your frame, pulling you into a crushing hug.

You immediately recognized the scent. Alice. You smiled, rolling your eyes.

"Hello to you too, Al."

Alice squeezed you tighter, her voice a melodic giggle as she pulled away just enough to look you over. "I knew you’d come back eventually," she said with that same knowing smile she always wore. "Though I didn't think it would take this long."

You rolled your eyes again, though there was a soft warmth behind it. Alice had always been the persistent one, and despite your best efforts, you had never been able to completely escape her.

"I didn't have much of a choice, did I?" you teased, your voice more playful than you'd intended. The tight knot in your chest from being back here — back in their world — loosened just slightly. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all going to be more complicated than you wanted.

Alice's grin widened, her eyes flicking to the side briefly. "Nope. But I’m so glad you’re here," she said as she stepped back, pulling you further inside.

As you crossed the threshold, the familiar smell of the Cullen house hit you — a mix of human and vampire, a blend that once felt like home. It was both comforting and suffocating.

"How’s everyone else?" you asked, trying to push down the inevitable tension that lurked beneath your calm demeanor. You couldn't ignore the pull to search for Edward, to see if he was here, to see if he’d even acknowledge your presence.

“Carlisle and Esme are in the kitchen, working out the details of the newborn army," Alice said, a flicker of concern crossing her face before it was quickly replaced with a smile. "And Edward... well, he’s been trying to act casual, but I think we both know that’s not happening.”

You fought the instinctive wince.

"Great," you muttered, your hand resting against the doorframe as your mind raced. "So, the world’s about to end and they need me, huh?"

"More or less," Alice said with a small chuckle, her eyes shining with excitement despite the gravity of the situation. "But we could really use your help. I know you’re hesitant, but..." She looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time in a long while, her gaze softened with understanding. "We need you, you. Not just your power."

You swallowed hard, your heart clenching. "I’m not sure I can give that to you," you whispered, the words feeling like they were torn from your chest. “I’m not the person I used to be.”

Alice’s expression softened, her voice quiet. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you can’t help us. We’re all just trying to do what’s right. And... I think you’re still part of this family, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You looked at her, really looked at her, and in that moment, something deep inside you cracked. Maybe she was right. Maybe you were still a part of this strange, mismatched family, even after everything. Even with the wounds you hadn’t allowed to heal.

"Fine," you said with a sigh, the words heavy on your tongue. "I’ll help. But I can’t promise anything."

Alice beamed, her enthusiasm almost infectious. “That’s all we can ask for!” She gestured for you to follow her. "Come on, Carlisle’s been dying to see you. And... I think someone else might want to talk to you too."

Your stomach flipped. You knew exactly who she meant.

You were dragged through the house and into the kitchen, where everyone now stood.

You had to admit, the tension in your chest was loosening, if only just a little. But you were about to face them all—Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper, and Edward.

Carlisle was the first to spot you, his face breaking into that calm, warm smile you remembered so well. "Welcome back," he said softly, his voice kind but serious. You could see the concern in his eyes, a gentle reminder of why you were here.

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. “Thanks,” you said, meeting his gaze with a quiet understanding. You both knew why you were here, and that made things just a little more difficult.

Esme came next, her arms open wide. You didn’t hesitate this time, accepting the embrace. Her scent was familiar, like the comfort of a mother’s love that you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. "It’s so good to see you," Esme said, her voice filled with warmth. "You’ve been gone too long."

You pulled away, giving her a faint smile. "I wasn’t planning on being gone this long, but..." You trailed off, not wanting to get into the reasons why you'd stayed away. Not now. Not yet.

Rosalie, standing next to Emmett, was next to approach. Her golden eyes softened slightly when she met your gaze. “You look exactly the same,” she said, her voice steady, but there was an unmistakable warmth there. You'd always had a special connection with Rosalie. She was one of the few who understood the weight of your past, the loneliness of it all.

Before you could respond, Rosalie pulled you into a hug, her arms strong but somehow comforting. "It’s been way too long, you know?" she added, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "Alice has been driving us all insane talking about you coming back."

You chuckled softly, pulling away as Rosalie smirked at you. “Typical Alice,” you said, glancing over at the pixie who was already looking smug.

Alice bounced on her toes. “I told you, she’d come back,” she said, her grin wide and mischievous.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Yeah, yeah,” you muttered. "I’m here."

Emmett stepped forward then, clapping you on the back with enough force to make you stumble slightly. You hadn’t forgotten his playful nature. "Finally! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist our charm." He grinned at you, that familiar twinkle in his eyes. “It’s good to see you again, seriously. We’ve missed you.”

You chuckled, steadying yourself. “I’m sure you have, Emmett. It’s hard to miss this much muscle, after all. You missed me giving you a run for your money?” You said, flexing your arm.

Emmett gave a mock offended look, but it was clear from his laugh that he didn’t mind. “You’ve got jokes, huh? I’ll remember that.”

Jasper stepped forward next, his expression calm but his eyes full of understanding. You knew better than to expect a grand display of affection from him—he was always more reserved, especially with emotions like these. Still, his presence alone felt grounding, a reminder that some things hadn't changed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice carrying an unspoken message of support. He didn't have to say more. His presence spoke volumes.

You smiled back at him. You and Jasper had always had an understanding. Both empaths, but one could use it a bit.. differently than the other.

Finally, you caught his scent before you saw him. He came down the stairs, his golden eyes immediately zeroing in on you. You looked back at him, a frown slowly forming on your face involuntarily.

Edward.

He spoke first.

"Hello, Name." He said, testing the words. He hadn't said them in years.

"Edward." You responded, your words clipped.

Then, another scent. Strong. It made venom fill your mouth, your fangs growing, touching the inside of your cheeks. You stiffened, cutting off your air flow.

That must have been Bella. Just as you suspected, she meekly stumbled down the stairs behind Edward, coming to his side. You'd never met the girl that ended your 11 year relationship, but you couldn't say you ever wished to.

Now, you had no choice.

Edward noticed immediately, his eyes flicking to you with a sharp intensity, and then back to Bella. The connection between you two was always like this —i ntuitive. But there was no time to address it now, not when Bella stood there, her presence suddenly undeniable.

Bella shuffled closer to Edward, her eyes flicking nervously between you and the others. You could see the slight tension in her posture, the uncertainty radiating off her. She had to know that you weren’t just anyone. You were him, Edward's past, and that was not something easily forgotten.

"Um... Hi," Bella’s voice was soft, hesitant. She wasn’t as bold as you'd expected, and it only made the whole situation worse. She looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, clearly aware of the sharp tension in the room.

You cleared your throat, stepping away slightly.

"You smell very strong." You said, your voice heavy with thirst.

Bella flinched, her eyes widening at your words. The tension between you both thickened, and you could feel the weight of the room shift. Edward’s jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing on you, but you didn’t care. The thirst was there, pulsing in your veins, clawing at the back of your throat.

Bella, clearly uncomfortable, took a small step back, her eyes darting nervously toward Edward. She didn’t fully understand, not yet. But she could feel the weight of the unspoken words between you and Edward, the history, the pain. And now, the thirst.

"Sorry," Bella mumbled, her voice quiet and unsure. "I didn’t mean to—"

"No," you cut her off, your voice low, the irritation in your words unmistakable. "It’s not your fault. It’s.. Natural." You took another slow breath, the scent of her blood tantalizing, but you forced yourself to look away. The control was there, barely. But you wouldn’t lose it. Not here. Not now.

"You're.. Name." She addressed. "I'm Bella."

You managed a small smile. The little human.. She had a clear bravery. To address you meant that she must have known the story. Your story. Edward wasn't one to lie, but he was one to brood and feel guilty. You had no doubt that he told her, though no one in the room would address it.

You couldn't believe she introduced herself first. She must have known that you wanted to rip her head off. And Edward's. In one swoop.

"I am. It's nice to meet you, Bella." You said politely, nodding your head towards her.

Bella smiled nervously, though there was a hint of something else behind her eyes. She wasn’t naive. She knew exactly what you were, and what your presence meant. But she wasn’t backing down, either. She wasn’t running from the reality of this world, even if it scared her.

"Uh, it's... nice to meet you too," she said, her voice trembling slightly, but there was a steady determination in her gaze. It was clear she wasn’t backing down either. And that, if anything, was a small relief.

Edward shifted uncomfortably beside her, his eyes flickering between you and Bella. His silence was loud. You could feel it—his guilt, his helplessness. It was suffocating. And it made you want to scream. But you didn’t. Not yet.

You looked at him for just a moment, eyes narrowing. "So," you said, breaking the silence, "newborn vampires? Do you know who organizes them? What they're here for?" Your voice held an edge to it, but it wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. You could feel the tension in the room already, thick and sharp like a storm just waiting to crack open.

Edward’s jaw tightened, and he shifted on his feet, as if uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. Bella, still standing slightly behind him, looked from you to Edward, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern.

"They're organized by someone we’ve... encountered before," Edward replied slowly, his voice measured. "Victoria. She’s been working behind the scenes, creating an army of newborns to take us down."

You felt your teeth clench at the mention of her name. Victoria. The fiery-haired vampire who had been nothing but trouble from the start. You'd never encountered her, but you knew about her through letters exchanged between you and Rosalie.

"And what’s her game?" you asked, forcing your voice to remain steady. "What does she want with you all?"

Edward’s eyes flickered briefly to Bella, before looking back at you. "She wants revenge. For her mate, who I killed. And she’s using the newborns as pawns."

A flash of annoyance flickered through you at the mention of James. That whole situation had left scars on the entire family.

"You’re not worried about Victoria," you said, your gaze never leaving Edward. "It’s the newborns that concern you."

The thought of an army of them—powerful, uncontrollable, and bloodthirsty—sent a dangerous ripple of anticipation through you. It wasn’t just the Cullens who had to face them. No, you knew your abilities were vital in keeping everyone safe. If things got too out of control, you would have to step in.

Edward’s eyes darkened, a flicker of his old protective nature flashing through them. "We have a plan. Carlisle and the others have been training the werewolves to help us, but we may need your power."

Werewolves.

Your jaw dropped.

"You're working with dogs?" You hissed.

Edward’s expression shifted, a mix of amusement and defensiveness crossing his features. "They’re not just dogs," he said, a slight edge to his voice. "They’re allies. We’ve been working together for a long time now."

You couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. "Allies?" you repeated, your voice tinged with sarcasm. "You expect me to work alongside them?"

There was no mistaking the tension in the air. The idea of working with werewolves — creatures you had never particularly seen eye to eye with — was almost laughable. The last thing you wanted to do was ally yourself with something that was, essentially, a natural enemy.

It was even worse than you were suddenly hit with the smell.

"Play nice, leech. We will in return."

You spun around at the sound of the voice, your fangs barely hidden, eyes narrowing immediately at the sight of the newcomer. A tall, russet-skinned man, his posture brimming with arrogance. His scent hit you instantly — wet fur, earth, and something raw, primal. It was unmistakable.

Jacob Black. You knew him too. You'd known him since he was just a child, clinging to the police chief's pant leg and pushing his father's wheelchair around.

You didn’t hide the distaste on your face. "So this is one of them," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "A werewolf."

Jacob’s lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes locking onto yours with a fire that felt almost challenging. "I’m not just a werewolf, sweetheart. I’m the one who’ll keep your precious Cullen family safe while you try not to bite someone’s head off."

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you stood taller, narrowing your eyes at him. "Don’t get too cocky," you shot back, the venom in your words as sharp as ever. "Just because you’re a ‘protector’ now doesn’t mean I won’t burn you to a crisp if you get in my way."

The air crackled between you two. The tension was palpable. You could practically hear Edward’s teeth grinding, his usual calm composure strained. But you didn’t care. You weren’t here to play nice.

Jacob took a step closer, not backing down in the slightest. "I’m not afraid of you, bloodsucker," he growled. "I’ve got bigger things to worry about than your little flame trick."

Your lips curled into a grin, your eyes glowing with a flicker of dangerous amusement. "You should be," you said softly, the words carrying a weight that made his eyes flicker. "Because one wrong move, and I’ll show you exactly how much heat my flames can carry. And trust me, you don’t want to test that."

Jacob didn’t flinch, though you could see the tension building in his shoulders. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, then chuckled, a low, mocking sound. "You're a real piece of work, aren’t you?" He took another step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "I get it. You don’t like us. We’re not your kind. But the enemy isn’t here to pick sides. We’re all in this together now. Whether you like it or not."

You held his gaze, unblinking, but something in his words —his confidence— shifted something in you. Maybe it was the way he wasn’t backing down. Maybe it was the fact that you were both in the same damn situation. Either way, it was frustrating.

"I’ll tolerate you," you said, your voice low and dangerous, "because I have to. But don’t get comfortable, dog."

Jacob’s smirk didn’t fade. "Likewise, leech."

-

The next day, it was time to train. Though you could feel the nerves on the rest of the Cullen family, you were eerily calm. You knew you could handle this. After all, you'd singe anyone that had an issue.

The vampires arrived in the clearing first, the rain falling in misty waves. Your jacket was soaked. You all waited in silence for the rest of the Pack to arrive.

It made you want to puke, if that were possible anymore. Werewolves. You were expected to work with fucking werewolves. It was obvious that whatever class Edward once had was gone, if this were his idea. Your golden eyes glared at the rustling woodline, the scent of wet dog filling your nostrils once again. At least you were outside this time and not confined in a kitchen.

You crossed your arms, the dampness of your jacket doing nothing to quell the fire inside you. It wasn’t just the scent of the werewolves that had you on edge — it was the fact that you were about to be forced into working with them, cooperating with creatures that were the very opposite of you. A natural predator.

The rain continued to fall, a soft, persistent drizzle that only added to your growing frustration. Your thoughts turned dark, your gaze unwavering as you waited for the Pack to show up. It was almost too easy to imagine the worst-case scenario. Werewolves had a certain...wildness about them that made it impossible to predict their next move. And you? You were nothing if not calculated. Every move, every decision, was meant to ensure you came out on top.

Edward was standing slightly behind you, his expression unreadable as he too scanned the woods, likely picking up on your agitation. The tension between you both was palpable. Despite your control, your anger simmered beneath the surface. He had been a fool to think that working with them would be easy for you.

Finally, the rustling in the trees grew louder, signaling their arrival. You stiffened instinctively, but forced yourself to take a deep breath, calming your volatile thoughts before the rest of the Pack stepped into the clearing.

You didn’t look back. You didn’t need to. The Pack was here.

Jacob was the first to emerge from the trees, his large frame cutting through the mist. His eyes locked onto yours immediately, and there was that familiar, ever-present cockiness in his grin. Then, the rest.

Only some felt comfortable enough to come out of their natural wolf form.

This one was smaller than Jacob, but still imposing in his own right. His dark hair was messy and tousled, the light rain soaking through his shirt. He had an easy, almost laid-back aura, one that contrasted sharply with the energy around him.

You studied him, noting the slight, unintentional bounce in his step, as if he was a bit more at ease than everyone else in the clearing.

He caught your eye, giving you a small but friendly wave, though you didn’t return the gesture. You could tell he wasn’t as confrontational as Jacob or the others. He seemed almost... curious, his expression open but not entirely without caution.

"I'm Embry."

You stared at him for a moment, trying to piece together what exactly you were dealing with. Another werewolf? You could feel the heat radiating off him, the telltale scent of wet dog mingling with the unmistakable tinge of wolf.

"You're a kid. Don't you think you're too young to be fighting in a war?" you said, keeping your tone cool and neutral. You didn’t bother to fake any interest — but curiosity flickered in your chest. Who was this one?

Embry didn't seem to take offense to your words. In fact, he chuckled softly, the sound warm and easy, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He didn’t look like the type to back down, not even from your cold tone.

"I’m not a kid," he said, his voice calm but with an edge of determination. "I’m older than I look."

You raised an eyebrow, still not fully convinced. His youthful appearance, that carefree attitude, didn’t fit the usual profile of someone ready to fight in a battle like this.

"I can handle myself," Embry continued, his gaze steady on you. "And besides, war doesn’t really ask if you're ready, does it?"

You frowned at that, the reality of the situation settling in. War didn’t care. But that didn’t mean you had to like the idea of a werewolf —especially a younger one — joining the fray. The tension between the Cullens and the wolves had always been a delicate one, and the thought of working alongside one of them made your stomach churn.

"Fair enough." You said shortly, turning back to the Cullens.

Or that was until you felt another presence.

The moment the rustling from the trees caught your attention, you knew someone else was approaching. Embry turned slightly, a playful smirk crossing his face as he watched the new arrival, and then, without missing a beat, the two were engaged in a rough, friendly scuffle—tussling with the kind of ease only two werewolves could manage.

You watched them for a second, your golden eyes flicking between them with growing annoyance. They were too casual for a situation like this. Too... careless. You hated the way they didn’t acknowledge the danger that loomed.

The tall, broad-shouldered figure had that unmistakable arrogance in his stride, the sort of cocky swagger that made it clear he thought very highly of himself.

But before you could even fully register his presence, the most bizarre thing happened. He locked eyes with you.

The air shifted. His movements faltered, and for the first time since he'd arrived, his attention was fully focused on you. The playful fight with Embry stopped. The playful energy, the jokes—all of it faded as Paul’s gaze hardened, his eyes flashing an intense, golden brown. You felt the air around you thicken, and a strange energy pulsed between you two.

"Paul?" Embry asked in confusion.

You didn’t know what was happening at first, but you felt it in the pit of your stomach—a magnetic pull, like gravity itself had shifted. Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could even process what was happening, Paul’s entire demeanor changed. His lips parted slightly, his fists clenching.

And then it hit you. He was imprinted on you.

You froze.

The shock on his face was instant. His expression darkened with anger, confusion, and disbelief all at once. His body stiffened, as though he were fighting some invisible force that had latched onto him. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and his eyes flicked over your face, searching for something — anything — that would explain this absurdity.

"No," he growled under his breath, his voice barely audible but thick with the kind of rage you’d only seen in werewolves. "No fucking way."

He stumbled back as if he’d been hit, shaking his head violently, his muscles tensing as though the very idea of imprinting on a vampire — on you — was something he couldn’t bear.

Before anyone could say a word, Paul’s body spasmed with pain. The shift was sudden, violent. His body rippled and contorted, muscles bulging, bones snapping as he phased into his wolf form right before your eyes. He howled in frustration, a guttural, enraged sound that echoed through the clearing and into the trees, sending shivers down your spine.

The others reacted immediately — Jasper tensing, Edward’s gaze following Paul’s every movement — but no one dared to move. It was as if the entire forest had held its breath, waiting for Paul to do what he was so clearly struggling to do.

Paul didn’t look at anyone else as he ran, his massive wolf form bounding through the trees with a final, ferocious howl, the sound of his angry cries fading with every passing second.

Embry’s wide eyes met yours, his mouth slightly agape, but the words didn’t come. No one knew what to say. It wasn’t just shocking — it was unprecedented.

"He… He imprinted on her?" Embry’s voice finally broke the silence, his tone incredulous, still processing the absurdity of it all.

But the rest of the pack was still too stunned to speak. The Cullens stood in eerie silence, only their eyes darting between you, Paul’s retreating form, and each other.

The tension in the air was thick — raw. And you couldn’t help but feel it too. You weren’t sure whether to be irritated, confused, or... relieved. Relieved that you were finally set free from Edward.

Whatever it was, you didn’t know how to handle the fact that Paul Lahote — a wolf — had imprinted on you. A vampire.

[aventurineswife]

so if the sahsrau and sagau characters made it to our world what would be the first thing they'd do would they try to find the reader or would they erect (hehe erect) some sort of statue or museum for you and your art also how would they treat the reader and assuming that the reader is like most people at the moment how would they react if the reader was living paycheck to paycheck?

If the SAHSRAU and SAGAU characters broke through into our world, it would be absolute chaotic worship meets reality check energy.

First Thing They’d Do?

They’d 100% try to find the reader immediately.

Their divine GPS (aka terminally over-romanticized sense of direction + desperation) would kick in. Most of them would tear through space and time like "WHERE IS OUR CREATOR??" while others like Welt or Nahida might be like, “...maybe we should get a lay of the land first.” But nah—Reader comes first.

And if they couldn’t find you right away? Expect a museum. No—a cathedral, actually. Statues, murals, and literal light shows. They’d start collecting every piece of your art, vent-post, old doodles, angsty OC lore, and unfinished works like they’re holy texts. (Even your high school sketchbook? Priceless artifact. Protected in glass.)

How Would They Treat the Reader?

Like you were the sun and the sky and the stars rolled into one.

Yanqing (or older male character if you don't want the kids here) would bring you tea and kneel like an ancient knight trying not to show his blush.

Acheron would speak in soft metaphors, treating you like a sorrowful dream made real.

Albedo and Silver Wolf would take apart your phone and try to understand how it connects to you.

Jing Yuan and Zhongli would treat your words like prophecies—“...the Creator said ‘I’m broke,’ which must be symbolic. We must fix this imbalance.”

Boothill would try to fight your landlord or job manager or whoever.

Dan Heng and Xiao would just silently keep watch over you like tired guard dogs with severe trauma and too much reverence.

Ayato, Blade, or Kafka might take a more... personal approach. You’re overwhelmed? You need someone to take care of everything for you? Consider it handled, sweetheart.

If You Were Living Paycheck to Paycheck?

First they'd be horrified. Like genuinely shaken. Because in their eyes, you're a divine being, the Source of Worlds, the One Who Created Them—and you’re living in mortal drudgery? You’re suffering? You're stressed about rent?

Oh, no no no.

Aventurine opens seventeen credit lines in your name and maxes them all out immediately to get you out of debt and into a comfortable apartment.

Nahida or Raiden Ei might try to completely overhaul modern society for your convenience.

Neuvillette and Bronya would go to your employer and issue divine litigation.

Childe just: "Let me fix it. Let me fix everything."

Pela and Cyno are putting your boss on trial.

Even someone like Kaveh would offer to live in your place for a week while you recover and maybe even cook for you. (You don’t know where he got the ingredients but it’s the thought that counts.)

And if you ever say: “I’m fine, really…”

They’d just be so quiet. Hurt. Like: “You shouldn’t have to be fine. Not alone. Not ever.”

Basically:

You’d go from paycheck-to-paycheck to gilded-idol-worship-meets-overprotective-cult-leader-found-family in the span of a single tear rolling down your cheek.

Would you like the world remodeled into a utopia? Because that's what they'd try to give you. And maybe... just maybe, you'd start to wonder if letting them stay was really such a bad idea after all.

[nemisuki]

A Special Day

Dating AU | You never felt the need to celebrate this 'special' day every year. But time it's different, the first year with your explosive boyfriend. And seems like he thinks differently.

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, no angst, aged up, oneshot, bkg is a softie, gift giving, 1.3k word count

"So do you have any plans tomorrow?"

The sound of his voice breaks the silence between you two. The only other noise being the scribbles of her pencil and flipping of paper.

Her eyes don't break away from the math problem in her notebook, the source of her misery for the past 10 minutes.

In response to his question, the girl exhales a short hum while erasing her failed attempt of multiplication, "Not really."

A small pout begins to form on her face as she concentrates on the equation.

What sane person puts letters in math?

Listening to her reply, his eyebrows furrow with slight confusion, his hand pausing from completing the assignment in front of him.

He takes this opportunity to pause his studies, leaning back in his chair to stretch his limbs.

A small sigh exiting his mouth as he stands up to lift his arms over his head to give relief to his aching muscles.

"It's your birthday, don't ya want a party or go out to eat?"

At his movement, she takes a peek in his direction.

Her gaze roaming his backside - noticing the outline of his back muscles from that tank top he's wearing.

The combination of his shirt and the grey sweatpants loosely hanging on his waist was deadly.

It's even worse that he is completely unaware of the effect it has on her.

Seeing him take a break gave her an excuse to do the same.

She props herself off his bed with her elbows, now sitting up on the edge of his mattress with a small yawn, "Not really. I don't usually celebrate it."

"Like at all?" he turns back to look at her, noting the aloof expression on her face.

"I mean maybe when I was younger but not anymore.”

He examines her body language intensely, only to find no signs of discomfort.

So she really doesn’t want to celebrate huh.

I mean he understands, he wasn’t one to care about his own birthday either.

He steps closer to plop down beside her, looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, “we should call it a night.”

“Yeah I should head back to my dorm now” she smiles, looking at how the moonlight accentuates his features, only enhancing the vision beside her.

“Just sleep over” he mumbles, already moving to lay down on his bed. Making room for her as he scoots towards the wall.

“And your roommate?”

“Shitty hair said he’s crashing at Raccoon eyes dorm. So turn off the lamp and come over here yeah?”

She couldn’t help but to laugh at his blunt demands, reaching over to shut off the lamp then resting beside him in an instant.

There's no way she'll let an opportunity like this go to waste.

With that, the blonde drapes the blanket over the two, looking almost offended that she didn't wrap her hands around him like she always does.

He isn't one for physical touch but he's gotten used to hers.

She seems to feel his stare and immediately scoots closer to curl up beside him, leaning her face into his chest.

Thankfully dismissing all his dramatic thoughts in an instant.

He wraps his arms around her torso to hold her close, "Real tired. Gonna sleep now, night."

"Mhm good night 'suki. I love you" she whispers back, closing her eyes to relish in his warmth.

A feeling she loves all too well.

"....love you too" he replies after a few seconds. Before his eyes fall close, allowing himself to drown in the feeling of her presence.

Already knowing what he must do tomorrow.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

Her eyes squint in response to the distant sound of raining pattering outside the window.

The once dark room is now filled with morning light peeking through cracks in the curtain.

A groan escaping her as she rubs her eyes awake, attempting to fight the invisible force that's trying to pull her back to eternal sleep.

Though under the covers, she shivers at the chilly room she's woken up too. Expecting to be tangled under the covers with her favorite blonde, yet is only faced with an imposter - a pillow taking his place.

It takes her a few minutes of mindlessly staring at the ceiling for her to sit up, but only due to the sound of the door slowly creaking open.

His figure comes into view as he closes the door behind him, placing a mysterious bag on his desk as he takes off his coat and tucks his umbrella away, "You just woke up?"

"Yeah just now. Where'd you go?" she tilts her head, ruling out the option that he had class since he doesn't have his bag.

She stands up and begins approaching him but he holds his hand up, making her pause in her tracks.

"Close your eyes for a minute" he mumbles quietly, all of a sudden avoiding her questioning gaze.

Despite her confusion, she doesn't ask to investigate further as her eyes flutter shut.

"Don't peek or I'll kill ya."

An amused smile appears on her face at his snarky comment, "I won't but if you don't hurry up I might fall back asleep."

The sound of rustling was heard in the room, as well as a small clicking sound shortly after.

"Can I look now?"

"No."

"What about now?"

"I told you already, not yet!"

Laughter escapes her as she impatiently waits, fidgeting her fingers as she hears him step closer.

"...Alright you can open them now."

She hums and her eyes slowly open, slightly squinting to adjust to the light of the room once again.

Once done, she looks ahead of her and is met with an overwhelming sight. Complete shock taking over her face.

Bakugo is standing there, holding up a small birthday cake with lit candles on top.

Her heart thumps louder in her chest, so much so that it almost drowns out the noise of rain happening outside the room.

And she wonders if he can hear it too.

"I uh... know what you said yesterday but it just-" he holds the cake closer to her face, "didn't feel right to me."

Her gaze roams across the cake, pretty cursive letters in frosting spelling out 'Happy Birthday Y/N' on the surface. Along with her favorite pieces of fruit scattered around the edges.

"You didn't have to" she mumbles, a thankful smile taking over her face the more she stares at the cake.

"Well I wanted to. Now blow out the candles, nerd."

Holding back a laugh, she takes a moment to look at him, "Not gonna sing for me?"

"Hah! In your dreams maybe. Hurry up would ya? My arms getting tired here" he rolls his eyes at her teasing, the tip of his ears turning a soft pink from embarrassment.

She holds back a wide smile and blows out the candles before he grows more shy.

"What flavor is it?"

"You're favorite one, obviously" he huffs, stepping away to set the cake down on his desk.

As her gaze lingered on him, a sudden feeling took over her whole body.

She notices the small puddle forming under his wet shoes, a mini bouquet of her favorite flowers resting in a vase he must've bought earlier and a gift bag carefully placed on the sidelines.

Katsuki Bakugo hates the rain. Avoids it at all costs.

Yet he willingly went out in this downpour to buy her these things.

Ah....

"Oi do you want a one slice or-"

His words falter when her hands suddenly wrap around his waist from behind. Her face resting against his back, not wanting him to see as silent tears trickle down her cheeks.

"Thank you Katsuki."

He stays silent, feeling the back of his shirt grow damp from her quiet cries.

A sigh exits his mouth as he prys her hands away, spinning around to hold her close to his chest. Rubbing her back in gentle circles and whispering rare words of reassurance.

"Yeah yeah let it all out. I got ya" he mumbles, knowing exactly how to calm her down.

She just needs him there to hold her as he always does.

And he'll stick around - for her.

"Happy Birthday Y/N."

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

A/N ||| hey hey everyone! It's actually my birthday today so I quickly wrote this up hehe. Sorry if it's a bit choppy, this was rushed. Anywaysss I finally made a taglist - so if you want to get tagged in my bakugo fics then click on this link!

[edensvessel]

How to Study Resources

Many people in the modern day pagan/polytheist communities are young. As such, a majority of them are neurodivergent, like I am. For me, that means a majority of the language used in resources is difficult to understand. This was originally going to be a post about that, but the more I wrote, the more I realised that many people, neurodivergent or not, just... don't know how to study resources. So, if you are someone that also struggles, I now present to you... my full guide on how to study resources.

Little disclaimer: I myself am a hellenic polytheist, but this guide is for anyone that struggles with understanding information from resources, whether you are a hellenic polytheist, norse polytheist, kemetic polytheist, etc. Though do understand that I am writing from the perspective of a hellenic polytheist, so I am bound to make mistakes when it comes to religions I am less educated on. You are always welcome to adjust anything I say here to fit your own religion accordingly.

Let's get started.

Firstly, you have to find resources. Many people happen to get stuck here, unfortunately.

How do I know what to research to begin with? When starting out, the general consensus among the polytheist/pagan communities is to research the related historical practice. How the deities were worshipped, what contexts they were worshipped in, the history of the deities, etc etc... all of these are very important factors to consider as a beginner. Only by knowing the history can you then delve deeper into specific terms and specific paths that may be right for you!

How do I find resources? Unfortunately, a lot of resources are behind paywalls or just plain hard to find. Here is a list of websites that I personally use and recommend:

scholar.google.com

academia.edu

pdfdrive.com

library.memoryoftheworld.org

libcom.org

libretexts.org

standardebooks.org

By the way, just a reminder that if you find a resource but there is a pesky paywall in your way, you can probably find it on archive.org for free!

How do I choose a resource though? If you are part of hellenic polytheism, then theoi.com is a great resource, but I always like to add primary sources into my research + not everyone reading this will be part of helpol. Try to find primary sources, first and foremost. Then read historical accounts. Then read secondary sources. Also, make sure your author is reliable! (that link is only for hellenic polytheism though, apologies. If you are not part of hellenic polytheism, then looking into who the author is/was as a person and what sort of contributions they made and beliefs they held never failed me personally!)

Found your resource? Made sure the author is reliable? Wonderful! Now what?

This is usually where the procrastination hits for me. Either that, or I get hyperfocused for a while but never complete it and then lose interest.

To avoid that, break things down and establish a routine. You do not have to finish a book in a day, or understand everything you read straight away. Setting those kinds of expectations for yourself will only make things so much more difficult.

Instead, make a routine for yourself. Outlined below is my routine:

Getting into the mindset. I always like to get myself into the mindset of studying by praying, whether this is studying for school or studying a resource. Since my entire life is devoted to lord Apollon, I pray to Him for it. However, if I am researching a specific god, I will typically pray to them instead. However, sometimes I do not have the spoons to write out a prayer, so I typically just adjust my surroundings instead. Turning my LED lights to a warmer colour and putting on some lofi music usually helps me! The studyblr community has great tips for this part! I also recommend I Miss My Cafe.

Reading. First, I try to read without annotating or taking notes. This is the time to take in the information, to try and grasp what I am reading. This is usually the most difficult part for me, because a lot of academic sources tend to use advanced language and sentence structures that are difficult for me to understand. Unfortunately, the only tip I have for this part is to read as slowly as you need. Do not be ashamed for taking your time. Typically, I only like to read one paragraph before I move onto the next step.

Annotation. This is where I re-read the paragraph I just read. Typically, I like to re-word the paragraph in a simpler way for me to understand. Sometimes I notice little patterns that may connect back to something I've read prior, whether in another book or earlier in the same book. When that happens, that is something I add too! Remember, you do not have to annotate. If it makes it easier, then perfect! If it does not, discard it.

Consult study tools. This is where I cross-reference with other resources. This is how the entire process repeats again. Though, you do not just have to use books for this part! YouTube videos, podcasts, online resources, etc etc...these always help too!

Application. After vetting the information, consider how it would apply to your life, if at all.

Of course, that's just my routine. You are always welcome to use it, but I also greatly encourage you to create your own routine so that you can cater it to your learning style!

I also recommend setting a time limit for yourself. If you have not completed a chapter within the time limit, that is okay! The most important thing about researching is making sure you are not guilting yourself into biting off more than you can chew. Take your time, you have a lot of it.

Research is vital to religions like ours, and research should be something everyone can do! Just because you may need some accommodations does not make you any less intelligent. We all learn differently. That is okay.

I hope this post can serve as something helpful for those who struggle in this area, and as a reminder that you are not alone in your struggles. If you have any questions or would like further clarification on some points, feel free to reach out!

Xaire ♡

[justdontaskme]

Home Sick (Leah Williamson x Reader)

A/N: It's been so long! I'm trying to get back into things but don't be surprised if I dip again, unfortunately. I want to go back and finish some of my WIPs but needed to get something out. Let me know what you think!

Normally, a day off from practice was a godsend, and you’d spend most of the day tangled in bed with your girlfriend. The day would be filled with laziness as you both enjoyed the simplicity and stillness the rare day of no obligations could hold. 

Yet, today, at this very moment, you felt as if you were at your wit’s end. And said girlfriend was the source of much of the current frustration. 

You’ve been slaving away in the kitchen since you woke up this morning, preparing to feed your whole team as they were scheduled to arrive later today. If you were being honest, there was a part of you that was beginning to regret even deciding to host, but it was too late now. 

Ordinary team hangouts were usually chill, with all the girls coming over for drinks and a movie or game night. Today though, you had planned an early Friendsgiving dinner. Well, it was actually Emily’s idea after she heard you were feeling extra homesick this year. 

Your fellow American picked up on your sour mood lately, and she hounded you until you admitted that you had seen a bunch of videos about people already planning out Thanksgiving menus. In fact, your family group chat had been going off with your parents asking for a head count for the special dinner and any dish requests. 

Since neither you nor Emily were going to make it home for the holiday, it only made sense for you two to celebrate this holiday with your new team. It didn’t matter that they didn’t quite understand the hype of this specific holiday here on the other side of the pond, they were more than happy to learn and eat. 

When word got to Leah, she was onboard instantly, wanting to do whatever she could to help alleviate any feeling of you missing home. While you loved and appreciated your girlfriend for wanting to help, right now you really just needed her to get out of your way. 

“Leah! Get out of the kitchen!” you said, shooing your girlfriend away before she could knock something else over. You grabbed another dish towel and started wiping up the sauce the blonde managed to get all over the counter. 

“I’m just trying to help,” she said, standing right behind you with a bunch of paper towels in hand, causing you to run straight into her when you turned around. 

After throwing the dirty towel into the sink to rinse later, you grabbed Leah’s shoulders so you could face her directly, “I know, babe, but right now you are literally stressing me out more than you are helping me.”

The blonde pouted, visibly deflating, her voice mumbled, “I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

Your face softened at her words. Leah really was just trying to help, but with a million different things going on in the kitchen at once she was more a hazard than anything else. A hand went up, cupping her cheek.

“I know you want to help, but cooking has never been your strong suit,” you said, your voice light to let her know you were teasing. “How about you help instead by sitting right here,” you patted the kitchen counter that was currently free of anything, “and keep me company?”

“I could do that,” she smiled, stepping away from you just enough that she could hop up and place herself in the open space you had previously cleared for her. 

Once she was settled, you took a step forward, standing between her legs, “You’ll be the best helper from right here.”

She dipped her head down, stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “Anything else you need from me?”

“I just need you to sit there and tell me I look pretty,” you told her, your arms slipping around her as you hid your face in her neck. 

“Oooo, complimenting my beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend. My speciality,” she grinned, her hands running up and down your back soothingly. 

As Leah sat there, with her cheek resting against the top of your head, she whispered all the sweet nothings you wanted to hear into your ear. It helped calm your racing mind as you started to refocus on the task at hand. 

Reluctantly, you stepped out of Leah’s embrace, one hand sitting on her thigh as you turned and took in the kitchen, mentally planning out what dish needed attention next. You left Leah to attend to your dishes, asking Leah to taste things here and there. In your mind, since she was the pickiest eater on the team, if it passed Leah’s taste tests, then it would be good enough for the others. 

If anyone asked, you would deny it, but you literally almost cried in relief when Alessia and Emily showed up almost two hours later. Your friends being the extra sets of hands you desperately needed in the kitchen. With their help, things started moving much more smoothly. 

As the day went on, your teammates slowly started to filter in with drinks, other homemade dishes, or desserts in hand. Now that you had helpers, Leah was free to play hostess, checking in on everyone and making sure you were supplied with drinks that Katie was kind enough to mix for everyone. A few of your teammates offered their help, but with the kitchen being as small as it was, you, Emily, and Alessia were better off handling the food. 

Steadily, the house filled with smells of all the different food as things were almost done. The space in your apartment was becoming almost nonexistent, but it was obvious your teammates were enjoying themselves if their laughs and screams were anything to go by. Despite what some would consider chaos, this is exactly what you needed. 

As the last few dishes were either finishing up or were being reheated, you three finally took a nice break to catch up on drinks and gossip. 

Alessia was telling a story about something Tooney had gotten herself into back in the day when you felt a pair of arms slide around your waist from behind.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

You turned your head to find Leah flashing you a bright grin. Her smile was one of the reasons you were enjoying yourself so much despite all the crazy and hard work from prepping and cooking over the past few days. 

“Everything is perfect,” you told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she said, squeezing you a little tighter. She held you in her arms, joining in on your conversation with Emily and Alessia, only disappearing once to refill your drink for you. 

When the timer went off from the oven, you felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Your friends chuckled as they watched you slip out of your girlfriend’s arms and back to the oven.

With a huge sigh of relief, you slipped on the oven mitts and went to grab the star of the night. While having a turkey was a staple for the holiday, you decided to forgo it to keep your sanity for the day. 

Instead, you decided to try your hand at something new that you felt would garner much more appreciation. After triple checking that everything was cooked and ready, you gave Leah a nod to get everyone ready to eat. 

“Dinner is ready!” she called, watching as a few of the young ones and Katie started playfully shoving each other in their haste to get first in line for food. You watched as everyone lined up buffet style and served themselves before looking for a space to eat, either at the table, on the couch, or up against the wall.

After everyone else was served, you grabbed a plate and started making a plate for your girlfriend as she went to reprimand the young ones for making a mess on the coffee table.

“This is so good, Y/N! Can you cook for us all the time?” Beth said around a mouthful of food. 

You rolled your eyes, “I already do, Beth,” you reminded her, thinking of all the days Beth would show up unannounced, looking for food and company since Viv moved to Manchester. 

“True, but you don’t make all this,” she countered, stealing a piece of bread off of Steph’s plate when the Australian was dealing with Kyra trying to overload her plate with food. 

“Thanksgiving special, so enjoy this while you can because I will not be cooking like this for some time,” you said, handing Leah her plate of food, when she came back. 

“Aren’t you eating?” she asked after thanking you, taking a seat so you could then sit in her lap. It was a little harder for her to eat this way, but she really just wanted you close. She felt like she barely saw you today as soon as people started showing up. 

“Maybe later, I just need a sec,” you told her, urging her to eat while the food was still hot. Honestly, you had quite a fill from taste testing and right now you were content to sit back and watch everyone enjoy themselves as long as you had a drink in hand.

“I’m a bit surprised there weren’t Smileys on the menu, with Leah living here and all,” Alessia said, digging into her food. 

You chuckled, seeing Leah’s mouth fall upon at the open attack, “We’re working on expanding her horizons on her food.”

Your girlfriend turned to you, her face full of betrayal, “I eat more than just Smileys!”

“Oh, I know, babe. Why do you think I made a ham instead of a turkey? Now you’ll be set with a ham sandwich for like the next week,” you said, grabbing a napkin to wipe the bit of food that spilled from the side of her mouth.

“Lucky! Now you don’t have to cook. Not that you really did much of that before.”

“I can cook!” Leah nearly shouted, sitting back from her food, glaring at her teammates.

“No, Leah. You can heat things up. There’s a big difference,” Lia said, jumping on the train to tease her best friend.

“I would take more offense to that, but you lot are just jealous that I have a girlfriend who is not only insanely pretty but loves to cook for me,” Leah said, sitting up proudly and sending you a quick wink.

“I mean she’s not my girlfriend, but she does keep me fed pretty regularly,” Beth reminded her. 

“And for that comment, Beth, you are not allowed to take any leftovers home with you,” Leah asserted, a satisfactory smirk in place when her friend immediately tried to backtrack all statements.

“Are we going to go around the table and say what we’re grateful for like they do in movies?” Kyra asked, switching topics before Leah and Beth’s banter could continue. 

You waved your hand, dismissing the idea while you took a rather large swig of your drink. The alcohol started to kick in and relax you more now that all of your responsibilities for the day were now over, “No, not really. I don’t know about you, Foxy, but we never really did that at my house. It sounds sweet in practice, but it was pretty awkward the one year we tried it. You are more than welcome to share if you want, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I, for one, have something to say,” Leah stated, chasing her last bite with a bit of water before she cleared her throat. “It may sound corny and everything, but I want to say I’m thankful for having all of you in my life, especially this one right next to me. After doing my ACL, having you lot support me through it all and being able to share things like this is a dream.”

“Stop being so emotional, you’re going to make me cry,” Katie shouted, pretending to fan away imaginary tears in her eyes.

“Okay, okay, one more thing. Last one to clean up after themself is on dish duty!” Leah exclaimed, taking the last bite from her plate before rushing to put the dish in the sink.

From there it was a mad rush to the sink, as a few snuck around, packing some food to go home with them as the chaos reigned around them. 

You continued to watch everything unfold with rapt interest, refilling your glass and cheersing with Foxy who was following your lead. With these people you considered a second family, you truly felt a sense of home, healing that little patch of homesickness you had been feeling lately. 

[shanklin]

Do you, by chance, have any more ideas about Sentient Mystery Shack that Loves Stan and Hates Ford? It's ok if you don't, just wondering

Context

Now, now, hate is such a strong word.

The Shack doesn’t hate Ford.

The Shack is…defending its territory. Ford is an intruder who wants to get rid of Stan, so the Shack will drive Ford out first.

Ford has NO right to kick Stan out or close the shop. The only one who gets to decide that is the Shack itself...or Stan. But the Shack has decided a long time ago that Stan is part of the Shack whether he knows it or not.

It’s really a shame the Shack can’t just throw Ford down the stairs, break his neck and call it a day. Stan would be sad again and all work the Shack put into making him feel better would be wasted.

The Shack didn’t want to hate Ford.

It was looking forward to Ford finally coming back and making its Stan light up again. Ford was supposed to FIX Stan. Not the lightbulbs.

The Shack can take care of the lightbulbs itself! Or it can get Soos or Stan to do it. Who does the intruder think he is to maje Stan feel small and vulnerable again!?

Just one hit, a couple of words and the darkness that finally stopped gnawing at Stan's soul with the kids around came back with full force.

To answer your question, I haven’t really thought much about what else the Shack could do to annoy Ford out of the house and punish him.

But I love the thought of Ford being constantly minor-inconvenienced to the point of insanity.

The shower is always either too hot or too cold, he keeps tripping over the same damn steps, and there is a noise from somewhere that only he seems to be bothered by. 

Is it mice? Ghosts? Gnomes?

Whatever it is, it just. Won't. Stop. And Ford can’t find the source. 

Time for Ford to go all scifi exterminator and for the rest of the gang to stop him from destroying the Shack. The walls not shutting up is not an excuse to try out your newest plasma canon, Stanford. There are children living here! 

The shack is honestly a little bit disappointed. It was so ready to throw hands wooden beams with Ford.

Poor Ford. The only explanation for everything would be that the Shack really wants him gone. But that’s not right. This is his house. Stan is the intruder! He’s the one who messed everything up and he even put the house in danger by rebuilding the portal.

The house should be grateful he’s putting an end to this disgraceful tourist trap business!

There is a beautiful period between Weirdmaggeddon and the reopening of the Mystery Shack in which Ford and the Shack exist next to each other without any murder attempts pranks.

And then Ford asks Stan to leave with him.

And Stan agrees.

And the Shack is heartbroken furious

How DARE this man thinks he has any right to steal Stan for himself now, after all this time? After he hurt the Shack's person so much?!

No! Jail for Ford. Jail for Ford for a thousand years!

 If Ford stays so will Stan.

So the Shack puts Ford under housearrest.

Ford is stuck. No doors open to the outside...no windows either. Even digging a tunnel leads to no results. He always ends up looping around to where he started.

With Bill defeated, his relationship with Stan restored and 40 years of guilt and regrets to make up for, Ford finally allows himself to understand.

Ford looks at the ceiling. It seems far lower than it used to be and was the room always this small? If Ford didn’t know better he’d assume they made some mistakes rebuilding the Shack, but this situation is much more interesting than that.

“I know you’re mad at me and I can’t blame you. I’m mad at myself as well. But this isn’t the answer.”

Ford slowly turns around as the walls keep moving closer.

“If you keep Stan here you’ll be no better than me.”

The ground starts to creak and shake in indignation

“You’ll shatter his dream. Just like I did.”

The room dims.

Ford pets the walls that are now only inches away.

“Don’t take it away from him just to keep him safe.”

Ford blinks and the room is back to normal. Or as normal as it can get in Gravity Falls.

The lightbulb above Ford flickers and a door creaks open. 

A sign of defeat.

Ford grins and pulls out his notebook.

“In fact I have a much better idea, but first you need to tell me a few things about yourself…”

The next day there is a wall mysteriously missing from the shack and the Stan o’ War 2 gained a few improvements.

The “Shack” o’ War keeps bullying Ford even out at sea but this time it’s a sign of affection…or so Stan tells Ford.

Ford is not so sure about it. Especially not when he knocks his head on the door frame for the third in a row, but hearing Stan's laughter might be worth the humiliation.

A lightbulb explodes above Ford’s head.

Nevermind. 

He’s going to kill the Shack.

[meiguicha]

3.30 A.M

Phainon x Reader

While the rest of the world sleeps, you remain awake as you realise it's all too easy to love Phainon.

//i will be on the news if i dont get him that is a promise not a threat. no angst im kissing him on the forehead and holding him like a plush toy in my arms. also no proof read its phainon loving hours

It's quiet now. The revelry and chaos of the waking hours have long since died and yet here you are, far too awake and confused to even consider slumber as an option.

Looking off to the side, standing tall on your nightstand is a small vase carrying a bundle of flowers in its embrace. Light falls onto the soft powdery blue petals, revealing the veins of life beneath its gaze. Yet it isn't the flowers that has enthralled you so but rather the vessel that holds them. A note lays in your palm, neat handwriting scrawled across, the very source of your sleeplessness signing it off.

For the past months, you've been eyeing it at Theodoros' place and yet could never bring yourself to get it.

And perhaps you haven't been the most subtle about your longing for it, you're certain Theodoros had more than just noticed and has even started leaving it out for you to stare at like a soggy wet cat left out in the rain.

Yet still, the reason for this very vase being in your house is not one borne from your own action. Simply, you found it on your doorstep with this very note. Though some would exercise some caution in accepting random gifts off their doorstep, the moment you saw those flowers, you knew who it was from.

The pads of your fingers ghost over the note once more, trying, attempting to discern a deeper meaning from such an action.

'I noticed you kept looking back at this vase when we went out earlier this week, and you've been mentioning wanting to get some flowers for your room so I thought you would enjoy these!!

Don't worry, I checked the authenticity and it's a genuine artifact!! Looking forward to hanging out tomorrow <3

Phainon'

He even signed it off with his name, as if there's anyone else in the whole of Okhema who would even do this. As if there is anyone else in the whole of Amphoreus who would even think of ending a letter with a heart so casually.

Seriously, getting things for you like this, writing cute notes like this, it's almost like he wants you to fall in love with him—

It's weird. You don't understand what this feeling in your chest is.

Staring at the flowers, at the forget-me-nots, at the vase and the note, something in your ribs turns. Maybe it's always been there and maybe all this time, all it needed was a little push for you to realise.

How long you've felt like this, you don't know, you don't have to know. Merely the thought of that smile you have always loved, decorating his face in that boyish joy as he totes around the vase, hands so carefully placing such longing blooms into it, even a fool would be lovestruck.

Your head buzzes with static, instinct pulls at the tendons of your form; lets you reach for your teleslate and type out a message.

'Can I see you?'

A text bubble pops up immediately before disappearing, the three dots blink at you, almost taunting as it once more disappears. It's clear he's read it, but the teetering and tottering between response and absence is driving you crazy.

You spend who knows how long merely staring at the screen, bright light searing into your eyes watching the bubble pop in and out. Until eventually, it disappears altogether.

Tomorrow, all you can do is reassure yourself. Tomorrow, you'll figure it all out.

Turning off your teleslate, you're ready to resolve yourself for a restless slumber when there is a soft knock on your door. Hesitant, as if afraid, knuckles lingering on the wood before it comes again, just as cautious.

Your gaze shifts to the device by you once more, nothing. And for a moment, you almost wonder whether the knocking is but a delusion of your mind. Yet still, no matter your doubts, you make those tentative steps closer, closer, bring yourself to the door if only to cast away the doubt on your shoulders.

The sight that greets you, that welcomes you, is no one else but the very person in your thoughts. His hair is disheveled, face slightly flushed as he leans against the frame.

"Did you—" Dumbly, all you can do is ask, pretending that the dumbfounded look on your face is not at all there. "—did you run here?"

"You asked whether you could see me," He smiles, voice wavering ever so slightly.

To have come all the way here, in such short time, and what is clearly home wear, he seriously dropped everything just because you asked.

With a breathless quality to your already soft words, you just manage to shyly meet his gaze. "Thank you, for the vase. And the flowers."

Phainon's eyes, his gaze and regard are warm. When they bask over your form, a sensation perhaps only similar to that great star fills your very form and guides your veins. It makes you almost shy, nothing more than a teenager scribbling the initials of their crush and their own onto their homework.

"I love—" You have to catch yourself before your clumsy mouth spills what you can't handle. "I love them."

"That's great! I'm glad."

The corners of his eyes crinkle together, cheeks flushed ever more as he rubs the back of his neck. A small laugh even escapes his lips, and more than anything, you can't understand how seeing him like this can make your heart feel so full.

It is simple. So, so simple.

And as here he stands in front of you, real, whole, these emotions you have barely processed feel as though they are seeping out of your every orifice the more you dance around them.

As if sharing an illicit secret, quietly, you step closer, reach for his hand as you murmur, "Have I ever told you how much you mean to me?"

"Because— what you make me feel, how you make me feel, is not something I feel like I can ever explain." Squeezing his hand tighter, your eyes naturally meet his.

In this very moment, there is nothing else but you. Reflected in those sky-blue eyes, that which hold the greatest joy of them all, there truly is nothing but ardent and ever-devoted beholding.

"I don't know when you've become irreplaceble to me, whether as a friend or..."

Before you can finish your sentence, you're scooped into an embrace, arms wrapped tight around you as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm against the tender skin, and yet so gentle that you can feel that organ in your ribs shudder. All you can do is return the gesture, to snake your arms around his form and feel his response through your chests.

""You don't know how happy I am to hear that from you," Radiant and hoarse all the same, Phainon's very words are sung into your skin.

A wet feeling tinges your nerves, and as he holds you tighter, until you can feel his heart knocking on the doors of your own, he whispers against you. "I was grateful I could be your friend but knowing that you feel the same..."

"Let me see you, please,"

He listens, and just as you suspected, tears dew at his lashes. Bringing a hand to cup his face, you meticulously wipe away his tears and even as his very breath splinters at the base, he lets you do so with no complaint or qualm.

Despite the tears, the joy on his very being is unmistakable, shining through everything.

And now, as Amphoreus sleeps, you smile knowing that it really is that easy. What's there to understand?

"Let's be happy together, Phainon."

[rueclfer]

smau request- maaaybe tomura trying to convince reader to wake up and hang with him super late bc he’s def a night owl & they end up staying up until sunrise; flirtation & heavy petting etc as we love to see it

i wrote this at 2am my brain is fried but waow loser/slightly more confident shiggy ily+ enjoy this mix of written and smau <3

twilight zone // tomura shigaraki

"oh my fucking god, knock much?" tomura exclaims, spinning around towards you in his swivel chair.

"shut up." you yawn, rubbing your eyes away from the bright PC screen illuminating the room. "like you weren't expecting me or something."

from his desk, tomura watches you click the door behind you and crawl into his bed. you pull the comforter up to your chin and nestle into his mattress as if he was the one that intruded on you in his own bedroom.

"wasn't half-sure if you were even going to come." he murmurs before shutting down his PC, diminishing the only light source in the room.

you feel the bed shift beside you as he stiffly lays down. "might as well light some candles too while you're at it." you tease.

despite how groggy you sounded, tomura could hear you signature smirk in your voice- the one that never failed to irritate the fuck out of him. he hadn't thought this far ahead- wasn't even expecting you to respond to him this late at all. all he could think about was how quick his late-night confidence was dwindling into nothing, making him squirm a bit in his own bed.

"i'd prefer to not have to look at your face." he mutters.

owch.

you don't respond. the exhaustion was ready to take over once your head hit the pillow. you think about the last time you had been in his bed like this.

it was about a month ago when you found yourself too drunk to even form a cohesive sentence. he didn't understand what you were blabbering about, but once he saw your swollen lips, flushed cheeks, glossy eyes, and handle of whiskey under your arm, he just assumed the worst.

you were drunk, touch starved, and desperate, but of course he knew better than to let you sloppily smash your lips into his like you intended two when you stumbled into his doorway. he spent that night half asleep in his gaming chair, periodically reaching over to make sure you were still breathing with his trash can pulled up next to your side of the bed.

once you sobered up the next day, he scolded you. relentlessly. strings of obscenities dripping from his mouth.

from that point on, he made sure to always find a way to keep you two at bay- something that he himself wasn't even sure how to go about. elbow nudges. kicking your feet under the dining room table. laying your legs over his lap on the couch without you asking. pats on shoulder. all to make sure that night never repeated- unsure if he could handle you throwing yourself all over him again.

"are you fucking falling asleep?" you feel a jolt on your shoulder as he shakes you awake. "wake up."

"i'm tired." you whine.

"well stop. i didn't invite you here to sleep in my bed." he huffs.

"the fucks got you up, then?"

"nothing."

you go silent for a moment.

"don't be annoying or else i'll leave." you deadpan.

"don't ask stupid questions then." he returns the attitude. "isn't it obvious? i can't sleep. can't even game right now. i just want to..." he voice falters at the end.

"...hang out with you, i guess."

oh.

your jaw slightly gapes open in surprise, spikes of heat crawling up your neck.

you tightly grip the fabric of the comforter. "well, when you say it like that, it sounds like you actually like me." you chuckle.

"didn't say that. we live together. bothering you is my only option."

"lucky you, i love when you bother me." you scoot closer, noses onto a few inches away from one another. "and even more when i bother you."

"yeah, i know. it's like you can't resist me or something." he pulls the comforter up over his mouth, shyly muffling his words.

"i should be thanking you then, right? thank you so much, tomu, for letting me lay in your bed with you. please. i want you. i need you. it's all i can think about when i'm just across the hall from you. " you roll your eyes.

he scoffs. "wouldn't be the first time you were pathetically begging for me either."

"as if." you spit. "i'd never."

"but you have."

a beat of silence passes. you press your lips together as hotness comes over your body while the events of that night surges back to you.

"you said you'd never bring that up again." you clench your teeth, cringing at the memory of tomura retelling that night's endeavors to you the morning after.

"needed to humble you a bit." he chuckles. "told you it's not a big deal though if you're still embarrassed about it."

"no shit, i'm still embarrassed." you tug the covers up to your nose. "i tried getting at you and you rejected me. i'll never live that down, tomu."

tomura goes quiet for a moment. he must've been thinking. he does that often- retreat back into his head when he isn't sure about what else to say. or maybe he had finally fallen asleep.

you glanced over his shoulder to the analog clock sitting on his desk.

4:27AM.

it was late- or early. maybe these past few sleepless nights had finally caught up to him, hopefully to save you from having to relive an embarrassing moment.

to him, tomura's brain was malfunctioning. crashing. blue screen error.

"uh. wait." he begins, breaking the silence. "reject' isn't the right word. you were drunk. i just did what anyone else would have."

"call it what you want. i just wanted a smooch and you weren't with it. it's whatever, i'm over it, you heartbreaker." you dramatically sigh.

"well, i'll give you one now if it'll get you to shut up."

it was your turn to error and crash now.

"really?" your eyes widen.

tomura's breathing stops. he wasn't sure what gave him the confidence to say that outloud. maybe it was because he couldn't clearly see your face. it was almost like you weren't there- like he was speaking out into the void that made it so easy for those words to slip out.

he didn't mean it. right?

"yeah."

fuck.

"-if you want though." he quips.

please shut the fuck up.

"last month wasn't a rejection. i just didn't want you to only want me when you're drunk, you know."

stop talking.

"but you're sober now and we're talking about it and i just-"

your lips crash into his. it catches you off guard as much as it does to him. despite how much you enjoyed listening to him ramble out his nervousness, you couldn't risk losing another opportunity to kiss him.

your hands crawl up to the side of his neck, rubbing the tender skin below his jaw as you draw him closer to you. the floodgates have opened now. tomura met your lips with the same eagerness.

you were pressed up against one another, legs intertwined, sharing a breath and heartbeats as your hands glided over each other's bodies.

your stomach was twisting with anxiety. how long had you been waiting for this moment? all of those shy glances around the apartment, subtle touches, and hidden affections had clearly not gone unnoticed.

his hand runs from the nape of your neck to your lower back where he slips his hand under your shirt, causing you to pull away in surprise from the sudden contact.

"your hands are freezing, tomu." you gasped. "what the fuck?"

"sorry." he sheepishly mutters against your lips. he keeps his hand against the soft skin of your back, lightly rubbing the area as an apologetic gesture as it warms against your body.

"sorry." you repeat, humiliation starting to creep up your neck as you two settle with the realization of what line you two had just crossed.

a beat of silence passes.

"um. so." he coughs.

"so...yeah." you respond.

it wasn't long before you two started giggling to one another like a couple of children.

"shut up." you laugh, hiding your face into the pillow.

"guess i did say you coukd have anything you want if you came over." he breathlessly chuckles.

"please. shut. up." you squeak out. "i'm going to sleep. it's already like..." you peer over his shoulder. "almost 5:00AM, tomu. good fucking night."

you turn around, letting your back face him. you could die right now. melt into this mattress and into nothing. thank god it was dark and thank god he shared this humiliation with you.

he slings his arm around your waist, bringing himself flushed against your back.

"i'm not tired." he mumbles into the back of your neck, peppering kisses into the soft skin. "stay up with me."

you mentally kick yourself. because you do- not that there was much left of the night to get through, anyways, but because when the night's haze dissipates, you'll be dealt with a bigger issue that you wouldn't be able to pass off as a drunken mistake.

[tritoch]

why doesn't venat tell the convocation?

one thing you'll see come up from time to time: why does venat, the largest ancient, not simply eat the other sorry wrong notes. Why does Venat, who has access to time-loop knowledge, not simply tell the Convocation what she knows and try to fight the Final Days in her time?

it's an understandable question: why wouldn't you want to change the future, if you know what comes to pass? Answering this question does a lot to flesh out our understanding of the Ancients, as well as Venat herself, in fun ways. It also highlights the heightened tonal register FFXIV operates in where the Ancients are involved. Most crucially, it confirms that your ultimate victory in Endwalker is not due to time loop predestination, but because of the collective efforts of everyone along the way.

all quotes, as ever, sourced from xiv.quest (except for some stuff from the very end of myths of the realm which i pulled from gamerescape). spoilers through endwalker follow.

(post-completion edit: this got insanely out of hand and way too long and it's honestly not even very insightful. you were warned.)

The way I see it, there are two broad versions of this question: First, why doesn't Venat warn the Ancients about the Final Days? And second, why doesn't she reach out to the Convocation and try to nip it in the bud?

To start with, let's get the answer straight from the source:

Venat cannot tell the Ancients generally because she cannot trust that they will not panic. No judgment should be taken as unquestionable, obviously, but Venat is a nigh-immortal scholar and researcher who also did a long stint as traveling counselor and savior and friendly neighborhood video game protagonist, who repeatedly and fervently declaims her love of the people of the world and her belief in their ability to surmount any obstacle if they simply find the strength within themselves. She has also, in-fiction, seen the wider world unsundered. Our exposure to the Ancients, on the other hand, is: her; the ruling council of their people, turned evil dimension-hopping wizards; a slice of particularly detached academics in a mad science lab (comedy version); a slice of particularly detached academics in a mad science lab (horror version). That's it! And of course, the revelation of the Final Days ultimately does result in panic and a series of increasingly drastic measures. While we only have her reasoning to go off of on this one, I don't know that there's any evidence that goes firmly against her reading of the situation.

As to the Convocation, she's right: the first time Hermes got the full picture of the Final Days, he immediately turned against you and tried to wipe your memories to prevent you from using your knowledge to stop them before they start. And that's really bad, because Hermes isn't just pretty important to stopping the Final Days: without the benefit of time-loop knowledge, he's the guy who draws the conclusion that connects the Final Days to the celestial currents of aether!

"Having shed light upon the phenomenon, he dedicated to himself to devising a countermeasure. Were it not for [Hermes's] knowledge of the celestial, we would never have made the connection—and thence forestalled the Final Days." Elidibus strongly implies here that Hermes is the guy who conceived of the Zodiark plan in the first place, or at least came up with the the mechanism by which Zodiark could actually use aether to protect Etheirys.

Hermes is a guy you absolutely have to have on your team if you're going to respond to the Final Days, because he is not just the guy who knows about dynamis. He is also, as far as we know, the only Ancient with a meaningful knowledge of outer space and celestial currents. Meteion herself is pretty explicitly parallel to a prototype space probe, a first-of-her-kind interstellar traveler. Given that the Ancients use magical concepts for seemingly nearly all their technology (there sure is a lot of stuff going on with crystals, I'll grant...but crystals are just aether, sometimes with concepts inscribed in them!), he is the closest thing they have to an aerospace engineer.

Space in FFXIV is obviously weird (no one's wearing a helmet on the moon, Midgardsormr flies through it, etc.), but nonetheless we know that space travel is difficult, and Hermes highlights in his explanation that Etheirys is unusually rich in aether while aether is much rarer in space generally. And we can surmise no one before him devised a way for the extremely aether-dense Ancients to travel and survive in space, or presumably that would have informed his own designs and he wouldn't have had to turn to under-researched dynamis. And we know no one worked with him on Meteion or understands anything about all the dynamis and, celestial currents stuff; Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch tell us as much.

Hermes might not be the literal only Ancient with knowledge of these things, but he is certainly the most knowledgeable, seemingly by a long shot. There is plenty of reason to believe the Ancients, while they have godlike power on Etheirys, don't have a huge body of working physics information. For example, the discovery and use of magnetism in creations was the signature achievement of Hermes' immediate predecessor as Fandaniel, per a Ktisis readable.

So you need Hermes, and cannot afford the possibility of losing him. Even with the benefit of the Warrior of Light's future knowledge, not having Hermes would fatally undermine any efforts by the Ancients to combat the Final Days—not only in terms of identifying which areas were likely to be affected, but also in terms of creating and implementing Zodiark, and with respect to any hypothetical "Ancients go to the edge of the universe to fight Meteion" plan.

That kind of full-spectrum involvement makes him only more dangerous. Sure, maybe you can approach the Convocation and convince them (and I'm not so sure of that: one of their members is there when you explain all this, after all, and he vehemently rejects the possibility right up until the moment the time-loop starts!), but how can you ever be safe with Hermes on board? Worse, what if this time he doesn't announce his betrayal? What's to stop him from building a flaw into Zodiark, or any one of the other plans along the way?

Well, but set the problem of Hermes aside for a second: why not approach other Convocation members? Aside from the information security concerns with Hermes, there's the fact that she already has some advance intel on that options. First, Emet-Selch already heard and experienced all these revelations, and he vehemently denied and rejected them. The only reason he ended up cooperative through the events of Ktisis is because "get to Hermes and stop Meteion" fulfills both your goals. You're literally out the door on your way to start the time loop post-Kairos and he's like "I still don't believe your future visions by the way! But if it's true then don't fuck it up!"

Second, if what you told her is true, Venat already has reason to believe Azem might not be willing to side with her. After all, one of the only pieces of knowledge you were able to pull directly from the records of the past is that even with 75% of the Ancient population sacrificed and preparations for the third sacrifice underway, Azem would not reply to the Anamnesis Anyder faction.

So she has good reason to believe her successor might not be willing to side with her, and she knows that successor's bestie will definitely counsel against trusting these future visions.

But what if she just shows them her memories and past events via the Echo? After all, reconstructing past events is a key part of your adventures in Elpis in the first place!

Venat can probably share her memories via Echo vision, but there's no reason to think that would work: after all, Emet-Selch was already there for most of these events and was still skeptical the whole way through. Plus, at that point you're really still just relying on Venat's testimony. Additional memory evidence certainly has some corroborating effect, it's not unimpeachable, particularly given the problem of Kairos. Hermes, Emet-Selch, and Hythlodaeus will all have memories that contradict Venat's because Kairos doesn't just erase memories, it straight up alters them.

But why not do the CSI crime scene reconstruction thing? Well, as Venat notes, those memories are prone to fading, and are etched on the aether of the world the same way memories are on the soul. So assuming, you were perfectly lucky and none of the aether got too altered by other events, you could reconstruct what happened from the moment Meteion connects to the hive mind . . . right up until everyone enters Ktisis Hyperboreia. Kairos functions by overwriting the memories etched into aether with yet more aether, and given that it targeted not just the group in the final room but the entirety of Ktisis Hyperboreia, it has presumably substantially altered whatever aetherial ripples remained of the day's events. Consider that if it's blotting out multiple days worth of memory over a large area (Ktisis Hyperboreia is a full-on spatial anomaly, after all), our only comparable event in lore is the Seventh Umbral Calamity. That's a lot of aether! Kairos moots any attempt to employ memory reconstruction as evidence.

So you can't tell everyone because they'll panic; you can't tell the Convocation because Hermes is untrustworthy; you can't tell the Convocation without Hermes because there's no point in recruiting the Convocation without Hermes because his expertise is what you actually need; even if you did want the Convocation without Hermes, there's reasons to believe that would go poorly; and you can't use the Echo to help you win them over because the well on memory-as-evidence is already poisoned thanks to Hermes inventing Kairos.

A brief interlude on the possibility of the Ancients getting to and fighting Meteion. Links to sources only because this post is already stupid long. Okay, pretend we perfectly secure Hermes on-side and rally all the Ancients. After making Zodiark early thanks to Venat's warning, the remaining 50% of the population sets to work on the problem of space travel to Ultima Thule. It'll be a lengthy process, since devising the propulsion systems of the moon took the Loporrits six thousand years, but sure, it's not like lifespan is a big issue for the Ancients. Then there's the matter of having enough energy to get there; Hydaelyn accumulates the aether of the Mothercrystal for over twelve thousand years to make that happen. But maybe we shortcut that with human sacrifice again. Okay, we've flown a spaceship full of Ancients to Ultima Thule. They can't do anything here because the dynamis is too thick for aether to do anything. Your allies can only reshape the reality of Ultima Thule to allow aether-based life to exist via dynamis in the first place. The Ancients themselves seem largely unable to interact with dynamis. Any familiars or entelechies they could try to use against Meteion would probably be overwhelmed by the transformative power of her own critical mass of dynamis. Probably your best bet is to send in wave after wave of Ancients to die in a delaying action while Hermes in the way way back with a megaphone tries to persuade Meteion to chill out? Part of the whole Endwalker thing is that the Warrior of Light's victory is an incredible piece of luck enabled by a whole host of actions both intentional and accidental. The thing about miraculous victories is they're miraculous because they were otherwise exceedingly unlikely!

"Well," one might ask, "shouldn't there still be something she can do? Couldn't she reach out to trusted friends to share this information and work to stop the Final Days and persuade the Convocation without accidentally reconnecting Hermes to the knowledge that caused this problem in the first place?" And the answer is: Yes, that's what she does! It just doesn't go great and results in the creation of Hydaelyn!

As you are departing, Venat confirms to you that she will try to find a different way to resist the Final Days. She also tells you that she will not take for granted that the future you have told her will come to pass, and will simply do her best to try to fight the Final Days.

We have a good sense of the results of her efforts because her closest and most trusted allies are left behind as the Twelve and the Watcher. Rhalgr and Oschon were literally just fellow travelers she met during his journeys. Nald'thal was a merchant. Nophica was a landscape architect. Probably the most outwardly accomplished members of their number were Halone (candidate for the seat of Pashtarot), Thaliak (brilliant university president), and Menphina (brilliant university student). They were, sometimes literally, just some guys she found by the side of the road.

The truth is that Venat's message and efforts were simply not that popular in the unsundered world. We see her efforts to reach the people, conveyed allegorically, in the Thou Must Live, Die, and Know cutscene: her appeal to the better natures of her countrymen fails. They cannot be deterred from their path of sacrificing the lives of others for their own comfort.

The result of Venat's best work to rally the world against the Final Days, outside the auspices of the Convocation, is the Anyder faction. And the Anyder faction, though it makes its case to the Convocation and to others, ultimately cannot win enough people over to shake the Convocation from its intentions.

The Ancient world in FFXIV often operates in a heightened register. From the name references that invoke Greek mythology and Utopia to aesthetic elements like their theatrical masks and genre-breaking art deco architecture, the game takes pains to emphasize how otherworldly the Ancients are. This helps make their stories work emotionally. Emet-Selch and Elidibus and Lahabrea are personally responsible for six worldwide genocides, plus countless other associated sins. Even in the already heightened fantasy world of FFXIV, trying to take their stories semi-seriously would break them down. Instead, the game uses a number of cues (Emet-Selch's dramatic nature and taste for literary allusion help considerably here, as does the English localization consciously adopting slightly archaic language) to indicate to the player that the Ancients' story is being told in an epic register, that they are a fairy tale, that their story is a creation myth.

Being a fairy tale or myth means that things can be narratively true about the Ancients which would otherwise not work in FFXIV, a story which tends to shoot for some degree of psychological verisimilitude. A person can survive untold millennia as the only remaining sane member of their people, retain their sanity, and never waver in their mission or crack under the pressure. Three-quarters of the world rising up to spontaneously sacrifice themselves out of love and kindness and a belief in the value of the natural world. In Hermes' case, we are literally directly shown and told, by both magical empathic bird-girl and magical mood ring flower, that he is literally not just the Saddest Man in Elpis, but the Only Sad Man in Elpis. People often poke at this point reflexively ("Why doesn't Hermes go to therapy?"), but his despair is not just all-encompassing and overwhelming. It is literally inexplicable and unfamiliar to the Ancients around him.

Similarly, Venat, actual wandering superhero and benevolent demiurge possessed of an inexhaustible love for humanity and surpassing skill in every field, scours the earth and comes up with just thirteen people (or like, them plus a few) who are willing to stand against the Convocation. Venat does use her time-loop knowledge to spur on a parallel effort to fight off the Final Days. It doesn't work because the Convocation's plans not only have the weight of formal authority behind them, but because the Ancients overwhelmingly did not want to accept their losses, form a plan of action, and fight back. They wanted to undo their pain and suffering now, as fast as possible, and damn the consequences or whatever other lives it cost. If this feels unrealistically emotionally extreme, that's par for the course for the tone of the narrative around the Ancients.

The truth is Venat was just doing the best she could with the knowledge she had and the understanding she had of the arena she was in. She doesn't end up forming the Twelve and sundering the world because she heard about it from the Warrior of Light—the Warrior of Light comes from a world in which she formed the Twelve and sundered the world because that is what she always already would have done in this situation.

We can surmise as much from how the time loop works across the rest of the game: even though there is always at least one person in the timeline who knows about the time loop, events always play out in a way that requires other people to exercise their free will, and those choices end up aligning with the time loop even absent the knowledge of the future. Either the Warrior of Light or Venat (also Fandaniel, now that I think about it, but I don't know of any meaningful insights to glean from that) is aware of the possibility of the time loop at all times: she knows about it from Elpis onward, then shows up in the boat at the start of Endwalker to say "hey fyi you're entering the Time Loop Zone," then you end up in the past with future knowledge of stuff up until you hit the time loop reset point and the whole thing starts again. But in the game through Endwalker, that knowledge never controls events; you and Hydaelyn are only ever individuals on a board with many players, and much of making the time loop work ultimately relies on the Ascians, a group we can definitely say both lacks time loop knowledge (except, again, Fandaniel) and is actively working to frustrate Hydaelyn's ends. On a broader thematic note, consider Zenos: he's ultimately crucial to your victory, and he's a complete wild card whose most important actions you could not possibly have told Venat about because they only happen after your return from Elpis. You don't win because you are predestined to win. You win because many people collectively take small actions which happen to, luckily, line up with ultimate victory.

The Elpis time loop only functions because of countless and almost entirely unknowing large and small actions by more or less every character in the game, and results from and is defined by those actions, rather than structuring and defining those actions. It's not that Venat, armed with knowledge of the future, chooses the time loop instead of averting the Final Days. It's that the time loop results from and incorporates a future-influenced Venat doing everything she can to avert the Final Days.

[prettyinpink69]

♥︎ Pass it over ♥︎

Sevika X Ambessa X reader

wc: 1.6k

Warnings: mild non consent (consent was given but reader is high), degradation, drug use

Reblogs are always appreciated<3

Sevika is in red, ambessa is in purple, reader is in pink

The flicker of the tv was the only source of light in the lounge, Sevika was sat rolling a joint while you were watching some shitty true crime documentary under a blanket. After Silco's death Sevika became sort of a weed dealer to help get you both by, it wasn't the best by all means but it was honest work and you were grateful she always made sure you were taken care of.

With it being a Wednesday night business wasn't crazy busy, Sevika sat back and sparked up the joint. You couldn't help but stare as the flicker of light from the lighter lit up her features, the curve of her nose, the shadows of her brows, even if it was just for a few seconds it was beautiful... "Like what you see, doll?" Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you pull the blanket up over your thighs subconsciously. "You... look good." Your voice came out a mere whisper but it was loud enough for her to hear.

A smirk pulled at her lips and she took a drag of the joint, exhaling the smoke through her nose before passing it over to you. "We both know your a damn lightweight doll, 3 drags minimum." Her tone was a warning enough for you to not fight her on the issue, not tonight. "Yes ma'am." You joke bringing the joint to your plump lips as you take a hit, feeling the smoke fill your lungs. It earns you a small eyebrow raise from Sevika but she doesnt press the issue. You let out a long breath, smoke curling out from between your lips, just as you bring the joint back up to take another hit the door knocks.

Three firm but not aggressive bangs, instinctively your head quips to look at Sevika who was already stood up and walking towards the door giving you a look as if to say 'stay there and don't say anything'. The only reply you give is a meek nod of understanding, you knew Sevika and you had seen it time and time again that she understood the dangers of the undercity and would do anything to protect you. Did her protective and possessive nature turn you on? You could deny it all you want, but the way the fat of your thighs were pushed together under the safety of your blanket was a giveaway, your body couldn't deny it.

Your attention snaps back to the door when a familiar voice fills your ears. "Just a gram, that's all I need." The well spoken yet gruffness of her voice couldn't be mistaken. Ambessa Medarda. She was very similar to Sevika, a strong dominant woman who's presence couldn't be mistaken. She was a leader, a fierce one at that, always willing to fight and protect Noxus by any means necessary. She was only in Piltover to visit her daughter Mel, but the whole of topside and the undercity were aware of her presence.

"Alright come in, just don't touch anything." Sevika warned Ambessa but her eyes were trained on you, a silent warning that you were hers and Ambessa would be a fool to even try and touch you. The two women retreat into the lounge, Sevika takes her spot next to you and Ambessa sits on the small couch opposite. "And who do we have here? You never told me you had a plaything Sevika." Your eyes dart between the two women, Sevika's shoulders were tense but Ambessa had a smirk on her face. What should have concerned you was the way your thighs pressed together and stomach fluttered at the insinuation that you were just a 'plaything'. But you'd always liked it when Sevika... degraded you in the bedroom so it wasn't that far fetched right?

"She's not a plaything, that's my girl." You watch the two for a minute. The air is so thick you could cut the tension with a knife, the joint between your fingers dwindling out, you take a drag to keep it lit. The two women seem to have a silent conversation, Sevika's head slightly tilts in your direction, Ambessa smirks and gives her an ever so subtle nod and Sevika smirks. What in the world were they planning?

An hour later, the three of you were 4 joints in. Sevika had decided to let up on the '3 drags only' rule. Layers of clothing had been shed, Sevika now in only a sports bra and boxers, the same went for Ambessa. You hadn't had much on to begin with as you were winding down anyway, sat in only an oversized t-shirt and a thong so small it could barley be classed as underwear. You were so high the feel of hands on your thighs didn't alarm you, or that there were two sets of hands parting your legs. "Jesus... she's soaked, I told you, she wants us both" Ambessa spoke soft but firm as her fingers ran over the obvious wet patch on your panties. "You think she can really take us both? Poor girl struggles to take me sometimes." Sevikas deep chuckle fills the room. You head was resting on the back of the couch, but you mustered enough energy to lift your head and look at the women, if they wanted to fuck you, you were so high you'd let them. Your eyes meet Sevika's in a brief flicker, a silent 'go ahead'.

Within minutes you were carried to the bedroom, stripped of whatever little clothing you had on, and were laid out on the bed like a banquet. "My turn first Sevika, you get the lovely lady all the time." That earns a scoff from Sevika but she sits on the edge of the bed. Ambessa's hands start on your ankles and work their way up your calves and thighs until she reaches your cunt, she spreads your lips open with two fingers and the air hits your neglected clit. You squirm and naturally your hips buck up into the air. "Mmph.. please..." She tilts her head to the side debating on whether or not to take it easy on you, but she shows mercy and the thumb start to slowly put undeniably amazing pressure on your clit, circling tantalising slow. "O-oh fuck... yes gods please..." your hips roll and grind agaisnt her thumb seeking more. "Greedy little whore, one touch and your begging for more?" She taunts but slips her ring and middle finger into your dripping hole filling you in a way like never before, they were shorter than Sevika's but thicker, the noises she's pulling from you sound a lot like something you'd find on a porn site but it feels so good you can't help it.

"Yeahhh this is what you needed huh? Something filling this wet little fuckhole? Such a fuckin' slut" Wet sounds fill the room as she picks up the pace. "Y-yes oh fuck... please... needed to be f-filled..." Your eyes roll back and your hips lift off the bed as she curls her fingers, hitting your g-stop repeatedly. Sevika take sthe opportunity and places the joint between your parted lips. "Inhale. You do remember how to right babygirl? Your not fucked dumb enough on her fingers yet are you?" You weakly nod no and take a hit as Ambessa continues her heavenly assault of your cunt. "Fuck I'm gonna- please.. oh god sevi please can I cum... please.." Even high and getting finger fucked like a slut you still remembered to get permission, Sevika was proud and wasn't about to deny you. Especially when you asked so sweetly in that whiney, blissed out tone. "Go ahead slut, cum for Ambessa, show her just how good you look when you let go." If your pussy didn't sound wet enough before it certainly does now, your back arches off the bed and your thighs clamp around her hand as you cum. "Thank you thank you thank you, oh my god..."

Now, if the two women were decent human beings with a slither of empathy they'd let you have a break right? Well that's not them. "Alright pass it over" Sevikas voice had significantly deepened. Ambessa hands her the joint that's been being passed around during your little 'session'. "No pass the slut over, its my turn to make this pretty pussy cum" You flush red as Ambessa moves over to make room for Sevika. Even when you two are alone she'd never been one to be gentle, she gripped the flesh of your thighs and forced your legs back open, dipping her head down and darting her tongue out to circle your clit "s-sev fuck... yeah oh fuck just like- mmph just like that..." She hums into your cunt, the vibrations only chasing further moans to escape you. "Taste so fuckin' sweet baby... fuck" She had no shame, slurping and devouring your pussy like it was her last meal, your hands find home in her hair, tugging the brown locks and pulling her impossibly further into you. "Mmph fuck sev I'm gonna- shit I'm gonna cum again please... please..." Ambessa sits you up, only to sit behind you and tug and roll your nipples between her fingers, the joint now long forgotten. "Fuuuck oh fuck please... please... ill be a good slut ill do wahtever you want just please- please let me cum" Sevika looks up at you as she very gently pulls your clit between her teeth before pulling away. "Your gonna need to beg a whole lot prettier than that if you wanna cum again slut..." It was going to be long night...

[lamour-est-pur]

A/N bonjour! welcome back, Ace is my favorite character so the next few post will likely be him unless someone else is requested❤ my first language is not English please be patient ❤

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Ace X Reader

Reader and ace get stuck in a snow storm together during a mission

genre-> Fluff

warnings-> use of Y/N

word count-> 4497

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The wind howled like a banshee, whipping snowflakes into a frenzy around you and Ace. You squinted, trying to make out the path ahead through the swirling white. What had started as a light snowfall just hours ago had escalated into a full-blown blizzard. The mission, originally planned to be a quick raid on a winter island notorious for its black market, was now a desperate struggle for survival.

"We can't stay out here much longer," Ace yelled, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. His normally fiery hat hung to his neck by the thin string, revealing windblown black hair plastered to his forehead. Concern etched lines on his freckled face.

Your teeth were chattering, despite the thick winter gear you wore. You cursed inwardly for underestimating the island's weather. "Do you see any shelter, Ace?" you shouted back.

A dark shape loomed up ahead. Ace, with his superior vision, spotted it first. "There! Cave entrance," he pointed, leading the way with newfound urgency. 

The cave was a small opening in a rocky cliff face. You practically tumbled inside, collapsing onto the hard, thankfully dry, ground. Relief washed over you as the biting wind died down to a low moan at the mouth of the cave. Inside, it was dark and cold, but a vast improvement over the icy blizzard outside.

The dim light filtering through the entrance barely illuminated the interior. You fumbled in your pack, desperate for any source of warmth. But your fingers brushed against empty compartments – the precious oil lamp you usually carried, lost somewhere in the storm's fury. Panic pricked at your heart.

"Don't worry, (Y/N)," Ace said, his voice steady despite the urgency in his eyes. With a practiced ease, he started rummaging around the cave floor. You watched, a sliver of hope flickering within you, as his gloved hands brushed over the rough, cold rock.

Minutes ticked by, agonizingly slow. The silence was broken only by the dripping of water somewhere deep within the cave and the occasional groan of the wind outside. Just as despair threatened to extinguish the spark of hope, Ace let out a triumphant shout.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed, emerging from the shadows with a handful of dry twigs clutched in his hand. A sense of awe washed over you. You hadn't noticed any loose branches on the cave floor before. It felt like magic, a testament to Ace's resourcefulness and his unwavering focus on keeping you safe.

He carefully arranged the twigs into a small pile, his movements deliberate, almost reverent. You knelt beside him as he lit the sticks alight with his devil fruit power. 

the fire sputtered to life, casting flickering shadows on the cave walls, you felt a sense of gratitude blossom within you. It wasn't just the warmth radiating from the flames, but the silent camaraderie, the unspoken understanding that bloomed between you and Ace in the face of adversity.

He glanced at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Your eyes met, and for a long moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. The storm raged on, but in that small, fire-lit cave, a different kind of warmth bloomed – a slow burn of unspoken emotions, fueled by shared vulnerability and the quiet comfort of each other's presence.

You shifted closer, seeking the warmth radiating from his body, and he didn't pull away. The fire crackled softly, a counterpoint to the storm's fury, as you sat huddled together, a silent conversation flowing between you in the flickering light. You knew this moment, this unexpected intimacy carved from the blizzard's wrath, could change everything. But for now, you were content to simply be there, in the warm embrace of the fire and Ace's reassuring presence, 

As the fire died down to embers, Ace kept you close, his steady heartbeat a reassuring presence against the howling wind outside. You leaned against him, drowsiness creeping up on you as the warmth slowly seeped back into your body. Your eyelids fluttered closed, and the last thing you registered was the faint scent of woodsmoke and Ace's comforting presence.

Dawn arrived, painting the sky outside in hues of pink and orange. The storm had passed, leaving behind a world of sparkling white. You stretched languidly, only to realize you were still nestled in Ace's warm embrace. He was fast asleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

A blush crept up your cheeks as you watched him. This unexpected blizzard had forced you closer, a closeness neither of you had dared to acknowledge before. You gently traced your thumb down his cheek, a silent thank you for keeping you warm through the night.

Ace stirred at your touch, his eyes fluttering open. A slow smile spread on his face as his gaze met yours. "Morning,beautiful," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"You know," he began, his voice low and husky, "being stuck in a blizzard with you isn't so bad after all." A shy smile spread across his face. You couldn't help but return it, your heart skipping a beat.

Before you could reply, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was hesitant at first, then deepened as you both melted into it. It was a kiss filled with unspoken emotions, a promise of something more waiting to bloom when the storm finally passed.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. "I never thought I'd say this," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes, "but maybe getting caught in a snowstorm has its perks."

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(A/N) Thank you for reading❤ REQUEST ARE OPEN please give me your ideas, I write for the one piece characters (Fluff, angst, comfort, smut) once again I do have post lined up that will be going up this week ❤ so please enjoy❤->

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[purple-obsidian]

I loved your post about sleepy sex with dick. I'd love to see more soft moments with him in bed, pretty plz I need him to smother me 😪

nonsense (18+, dick grayson x gn reader) wc 900

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors.

"I have a theory."

"A theory?"

"Yeah."

You can't see the grin on his face, but you feel the upturn of his lips against your neck and the soft shaking of his body as Dick chuckles at your sleepy musings.

"Well, lets hear it, babe. Don't keep me in suspense."

Your fingertips graze his scalp, toying with his thick, dark hair that tempts you every time you're together. Its just begging to be pulled at and played with, really. It isn't your fault.

"You and Bruce, your whole gig is that you don't have powers, right? You're just ordinary people, regular humans."

"Well, I wouldn't say ordinary." He chides back with playful defensiveness. His voice is muffled from his proximity, but you can understand him just fine.

"Exactly." You mumble back, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You can just barely make out the outline of the ceiling fan, dimly lit with the meager light emanating from your digital alarm clock on your bedside table, accompanied by an inconspicuous bottle of lube and a half-empty water bottle. "I think it's bullshit. You're meta, one hundred percent. I think you've been fooling everyone all along."

"Huh. Is that right?" He mutters against your warm neck, his soft breath fanning over your skin and sending a sharp tingle down your spine.

"You're telling me I'm wrong?" You whisper breathlessly, struggling to take in a full breath with how his body is crushing you, keeping you pinned between him and the mattress. Dick senses your discomfort and shifts his weight around to take some pressure of of your diaphragm. You cling to him reflexively when he moves, scared that he might try and get up.

"Aww, baby, someone feeling needy?"

You ignore the teasing in his tone, but allow your fingers to grip his raven strands that much tighter, keeping his head in place next to yours. "Don't change the subject."

Dick shifts his bodyweight again, wiggling his hips and grinding them against yours not-so-subtly. There is nothing separating your bodies, all clothes were forgotten hours ago when the two of you first came to bed. The evidence of your time together dampens the bedding below you and lingers in the still air of the bedroom. And still, his arousal that's pressed against your stomach stiffens once again while he slowly moves against you, teasing you, toying with you like he was made to do so, as if the gods sent him here specifically to be your undoing. He's good enough at it that you wouldn't be surprised.

"What superpowers do I have, then? Since you got me all figured out."

You grin, releasing your firm hold on his hair and nuzzling his cheek to get him to look at you. Dick reluctantly removes his face from your neck and blinks the sleep away from his eyes to focus on your face in the dark.

"Isn't it obvious?" The tip of your nose brushes against his, lips almost touching. Your breath is synced up to where you're inhaling as he's exhaling, your chest deflating slightly while his expands, back and fourth, slow and steady.

"Indulge me." Barely a whisper, his gravely voice tickling your eardrum.

Sapphirine eyes slowly come in to focus in the dim light. You snake your hand down between your bodies to grasp his hardening length, which is still sensitive from his earlier performance. The broken moan that chokes him upon contact is like a shot of dopamine to your brain. To you, there is no greater ego boost than being the source of this man's pleasure. With a gentle touch, you stroke his cock languidly, letting out a soft exhale that lacks enough air to fuel a full laugh.

"Stamina." You tell him, letting your mouth brush against his chin as you speak, his stubble feeling harsh against your lips, which are chapped from the endless kisses and fervent promises exchanged in this very bed hours earlier.

He ruts into your hand with another pained groan. "Sh-shit." A tremble shakes his large frame before he braces his forearms on either side of your body, baring more of his weight so he can lift himself off of you and give you more room to stimulate him where he needs you most. "Just like that… dammit, babe, you have no idea what you do t'me."

You lick your lips, chasing him as he pulls away, the few inches of space he put between you far too much for you to tolerate.

"Tell me I'm right." You demand, but you capture his lips in a heated kiss before he can answer you. The sound of his moans mingle with your own as the two of you make out, slow and sloppy, his cock now painfully hard and heavy in your palm.

"Right about what?" He mutters between urgent, feverish pecks to your lips.

"Y-your super-human stamina." You stutter after a beat, almost losing your train of thought. It's so easy to get lost in him. His taste, his smell, his warmth, his love. Its nothing short of addicting.

"Dunno what you mean…mmmm… You're talking nonsense, baby."

Dick swallows up any further comments from you, deepening the kiss and humping your hand with increasing desperation. It doesn't take much longer until your theory is forgotten, cast aside to make room for the love Dick pours into you with every lazy kiss and needy touch.

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[theempressofthenile]

The 12th Houses - The Divine Naturalist.

Knowledge is power, and what most 12th housers understand is that power is infinite, and the knowledge that we seek comes from within. The 12th house is filled with divine experiences, making the person with this placement see things from a higher perspective. Something that most can never find for themselves, its truly a mystery here.

Sun in the 12th house : Impractical knowledge, things that don't make sense on a psychical matter making sense more in the imagination. Artistic souls who's only purpose is to share what the divine has given them since birth. Angels of light who go into the darkness for some time to receive an answer. Could have issues with family and friends because they can be too floaty for them sometimes. Always floating with the wind, always going nowhere but somewhere. They may not know everything, but they know the importance of being in the moment.

Moon in the 12th house: Connecting to a higher purpose, these people could be the seers of our generation. Having mercy for every little thing, every person, every plant, animal... etc. They have the compassionate nature of a deity. Some may even believe they are quite delusional with the way that they put their all into others, even excusing the behavior of some becomes we all have been there. All in all, they have an expression to them that attracts any and anybody to them, their love is unmatched.

Mercury in the 12th house: Intricate minds, very solitary individuals. Like to live alone and be isolated at times. You may not understand them from time to time, but it does not matter to them. Their mind has more than a million channels, and they operate into all of them. I feel as though these placements need time alone due to their mind always being on constant overdrive. I guess it's safe to say they could be their own book that is more than 300 pages. They have the tendency to know more than what they let on, due to the source within them giving them an explicit amount of knowledge all of the time.

Venus in the 12th house : Beautiful souls with a tendency to love deeper than what most can define. No one can truly match the depths of these beautiful minds, who's love wishes to touch the stars to be closer to the divine. Their love life can be tempting with allure, but their bodies can feel the uproar of something being close to home. Their not for everyone, and the way their love life is set up.. it can have them questioning why the Universe put them in certain situations. Could it be that they must go against the grain? Love will make you do crazy things, and they learn a lot about this everyday

Mars in the 12th house : Their psychic senses are always tingling. The power they are looking for is deep into the subconscious. I feel as if they are always fighting for themselves to pick up their weight while society pushes them to the side often.. They know exactly what they want, and as it is capable they have to sure work for it. Because even if its not in the present, it is somewhere in the future. Because if you can see it in your mind, you can bring it into fruition. Mars in the 12th house makes a difference because as they transform the mind, they transform themselves. It's like seeing a totally new person, because they looked into the heart to find what they need to change to be the person they have always wanted to become. They always knew they could do it if they were to try.

Jupiter in the 12th house - They have a powerful connection to the ancestors, their spirit guides and the universe overall. They see things in a much more profound way than people let on. You might think their crazy, but baby let me tell you they are in 2050 while everyone is stuck in 2024! They have the tendency to know things by either looking it up or solving the clue on their own. Potentially they can lose their own minds because the world is farther behind, not being able to grasp the knowledge of everyday life even when its being practically handed to us. At some point, they tend to hide what they know and shares it with a familiar group, ones that knows the type of people they are and want to learn more of the fruits of nature that the Gods have given us. Ask your jupiter 12th house frined what is something out of this world that they know and watch your entire idea of life change in one sitting.

Saturn in the 12th house - Spiritual connections come in very interesting ways for this group. They naturally run with authority, they just don't see it yet. They have an understanding that things take time. And although they may not get it now, when they are much older they will see that everything was planned the way it was supose to be, and not the way they wanted it to be. They have the gift of seers from many moons ago, and they have the direction and path lined up for them by their ancestors and spirit team. They just need to know which lane to pick. Let go of control if you have this placement, you have no idea where things could lead.

Pluto in the 12th house - In a deep dark pool of webs, you will find the most intriguing persons here. They know so much about the darkness, it may shock you. Since they were a child, they have had a lot of psychic experiences. And as they grew, this could have surprised so many others to the point that the 12th houser has rejected their role in being all knowing. With this placement, they have to go against the grain. Looking within the psyche to accomplish what most never see coming, and it's to have full control cover their consciousness. They have integrity enough to keep going, even when things are bouncing out the wall. But they never give up on themselves, there is always room for self-transformation.

Neptune in the 12th house - Creators, Muses, Great thinkers. Very in control of their inner world, its just that others may give them a hard time. They are always on cloud nine. Very patient with themselves because the world tells them to speed up. Can be super creative when you lock them in a room by themselves. They will take you into a museum that connects to their soul, you'd want to know more about them the longer you stay with them. To have this placement is to know that there is something much bigger than ourselves out there. They live a life full of inspiration.

Uranus in the 12th house - Unique individuals who take the time to create inventions far past their peers level of thinking, and I mean that gracefully. They have the capacity to see beyond what the world sees at such a young age. The universe connects them to the akashic records of information so that they can be ahead of time. Can fulfill a leadership role if they find themselves in a predicament where others won't take the lead, they'll have you thinking about things in a totally different way. Can be seen as the crazy-heads of the world but they aren't so crazy once you get to know them. Have mercy on them, they have so many ideas, philosophies and knowledge tied into their tiny brains it will almost make anyone seem insane. Just enjoy the rollercoaster that their brains make us feel, its a ride of your life.

I hope you all enjoy !

[siggiedraws]

What’s your thoughts on idw silver, I personally think he is ok but I feel like the idw comic didn’t really do very well with his character.

I can't say I like him... at all.

American Sonic media already has a history of needless and quite frankly terrible changes, whether made out of ignorance, xenophobia towards Sonic Team/SoJ, some vague, made-up sense of marketability, or all three. So, I'm already wary of media like that. They always change fundamental aspects of Sonic's appeal and are supremely unenjoyable to me as a result.

To stay on track here - why do I dislike IDW Silver? The main reason is that I think he's portrayed as way too polite and nice to people. He has no backbone. It's as if he was just based off of popular fanon or Archie comics, rather than the source material. I don't blame anyone for thinking Silver is some timid, polite sweetheart if fanon and IDW/Archie is all they have consumed, but I'm doing my best to dispel that notion for the sake of conquering misinformation. As a casual fan, it is understandable to have misconceptions, but I'm going to be much more harsh to official media.

I need to hammer home the fact that Silver is rude and often talks down to people. Sonic '06, Silver's debut game, showcases this very well. In an '06 cutscene, he talks down to Sonic after attacking him when his guard was down. The casual stride over to a wheezing, incapacitated Sonic kills me. The disrespect is fucking crazy.

In the level Flame Core, he acts haughty and superior about his abilities, even letting out a light chuckle at how pathetic the enemies are. And, a detail that is easy to miss, he doesn't even apologize for trying to kill Sonic.

That's not even mentioning the Rivals games being a wonderful source of Rude Silver™, where there are too many snide remarks to count.

IDW Silver is a telltale case of Silver's nuance being stripped so that he only represents one trait of his- that trait being "naivety." Silver's naivety is mentioned twice by Blaze in Sonic '06 because this is relevant to the story. Naivety is Silver's fatal flaw that leads to him being easily manipulated by Mephiles. However, his naivety isn't due to some innocent, childlike outlook on the world. Silver takes everyone at face value and always assumes people are telling the truth to him due to a lack of social skills. This is why, when Silver mentions something outlandish or unbelievable to people, he is confused why they don't believe him. This is shown in both Rivals 2 and the Sonic x Silver wallpaper cover story.

IDW seems to completely miss this nuance and conflates "naivety" with childlikeness and innocence. When you realize this, decisions put towards Silver's characterization in IDW makes a lot of sense - his hyperactive excitement and adulation over Whisper is a good example, but how he doesn't talk back to Sonic calling him "flatware" in Issue 8 particularly bothers me.

Realistically, Sonic would immediately get thrown into a wall if he said this to Silver.

Portrayals like IDW Silver are just so utterly confusing. How in the world does Silver get misconstrued this way, into something entirely opposite of what he is, in both fanon and official media? To be completely honest, it makes me frustrated. I want things to change and I feel like I have to speak up. I ended up writing an essay about Why Silver is Rude. I'm sorry anon.