#and this is a subject i've wanted to touch upon for a while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thepigeonhasapen · 7 months ago

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I was wondering if you could do the Olympian Gods with a reader whose asexual? Like, what would their reactions be, would they mind, stuff like that d:

Asexual Reader, Olympian Edition

(Doing these asks out of order but shhhhhhh. Also strong warning for acephobia because Zeus in an ass)

🩷Aphrodite🩷

Very chill about it. She's the goddess of love and that includes ALL kinds of love. Self-love is one of her favorites. The fact that you know and accept who you are and that you're willing to let her in on it? Well, Aphrodite might just adore you even more than she already did.

"You’re...? Well of course I don't mind, dearest! In fact, I think that's positively wonderful!"

Regardless of whether or not you're interested, Aphrodite still can't refrain from making comments about your physical appearance. She'll try and curtail some of them if you find them uncomfortable, but she loves lavishing praise upon you and talking you up to her friends.

Partially jealous to be perfectly honest. She can't help but wonder if you have a more pure understanding of beauty because you're not looking at it though the rose-tinted lens of horny. Aphrodite is deeply fascinated by asexuality and even if she doesn't quite understand it, she tries her best.

⚔️Ares⚔️

Doesn't mind. Honestly, it doesn't even really impact him that much. Just neatly writes sex out of the equation and carries on.

"You seem nervous, my dear. You... oh? Is that all? No need to distress yourself so much over such things. I love you as you are and knowing this will not change that."

May ask you a few questions at the beginning but mostly leaves the subject alone after that.

If anyone's giving you shit, all it takes is a dirty look from Ares to shut them up. What can I say the man has a way with not using his words.

🏹Artemis🏹

You too?? Artemis tries to play it off cool but she's low-key thrilled actually. Internally screaming because thank the Fates, she can get as close to you as she wants and she doesn't have to worry about things getting Weird™️

"You’re ace? That's... cool. Sorry, that came off as really insincere. It's just... me too, you know? I got a little surprised is all. And um, we've been hanging out for a while and I just wanted to say, you know, now that we're talking about this and I know you're not gonna take this the wrong way, I think you're really neat. I love hanging out with you. ...Don't go spreading that around though, okay?"

Artemis is sex-repulsed. If you are too, she drags you to family events so she can make faces at you whenever her family starts talking about their sexual conquests. If you're not, she's deeply fascinated and will probably ask you WHY on earth you would want to do that.

Despite the fact that Artemis doesn't want to have sex, I feel like she'd still enjoy certain kinks. Primal play, petplay, and leather are things I feel she'd enjoy partaking in. (Source: I am ace and very kinky lmao)

🦉Athena🦉

What a good match, Athena is asexual too! She probably blanks your confession to be honest because she sometimes forgets that people actually have sex frequently and on purpose.

"Asexual? Yes, alright. And how fared your journey up to Olympus by the way? I hope Hermes treated you well."

Sex-neutral. Will occasionally give sex a go if her partner happens to bring it up but will mostly just forget it's existence as a thing entirely.

Athena is actually quite haughty about her asexuality. She is definitely looking down on anyone who is swayed from the path of wisdom by someone else's sex appeal. Loves that you can understand her point of view on the subject.

❄️Demeter❄️

As Demeter has aged her sex drive has shrunk to like nil so really nothing about your relationship is much different.

"Asexual...? Ah, like young Artemis, yes? Fascinating. I've never been able to pin her down long enough to converse upon the subject. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Demeter tends to be a touch more overprotective than she needs to be. If anyone even so much as gives a hint of giving you shit for it, Demeter is sending them an absolute withering glare that has the potential to kill even the most vibrant flower. She follows it up with some bitterly cold words if necessary but it rarely comes to that.

She's honestly quite relieved about it really. She was never really that horny of a person and is happy to find someone who can relate to that. I personally think Demeter is some kind of acespec but that might also be my asexual ass projecting my aceness onto every character I get my grubby little hands on lol

🍇Dionysus🍇

Chill about it. He's chill about literally everything, what do you expect? Dionysus is commonly associated with trans people and I like to believe that queer people in general just flock to him because he's just so open and accepting.

"Ace, yeah? Congrats, man, thanks for telling me. Just let me know if I ever step on any toes, 'kay?"

Not gonna lie, he secretly corners Artemis and Athena to bother them on the subject just in case he's got it wrong. He didn’t as it turns out, but he's glad he checked in anyway because it was an enlightening conversation. With Athena anyway. Artemis runs off at the first available opportunity.

Happy to go whatever speed you want, if you want to go any speed at all. He may still get a little handsy sometimes but he doesn't mean anything by it, he just really likes holding you like a teddy bear. Honestly, I think he'd get a real kick out of somebody aegosexual and think it was such a super fun party trick that you can say such horny things and not be interested at all. Probably mildly pesters you to engage with smutty things because he finds your unamused expressions absolutely fascinating.

🪽Hermes🪽

Bursts out laughing when you tell him. It's not for the reason you think and he does feel really bad about it when he sees your face.

"Haha, of all the...! Haha– oh, hey, hey, I'm sorry, it's not that. I totally don't mind you being ace or anything, far from it, it's just that I seem to have an accidental habit for attracting your type and I seem to be collecting you."

Besides you, the person Hermes spends the most time with is Charon... who is also asexual. Hermes, the uberhorny hypersexual fuckbunny who would literally die for a quickie every five minutes find this hilarious. Opposites attract I guess? Hermes has a good giggle about it everytime he thinks about it.

Doesn't mind if you don't want to have sex. If you do, great! But if you don't, it's not a big deal.

🔱Poseidon🔱

Poseidon is... confused. It'll work out better if you're sex-repulsed and straight up don't want to have sex ever, otherwise poor Poseidon will absolutely struggle. He doesn't understand the difference between sexual attraction and aesthetic attraction and is just genuinely so out of his depth. You like the way he looks... but you don't want to have sex with him??

"What's that? Asexual? I, uh... okay, just between the two of us, you're gonna have to explain that one to me, babe."

He talks to Dionysus. Even after that he still doesn't get it. Poseidon tries his best to be supportive but has like no idea how. Probably shooes away people who try to even mention sex in your vicinity. It's gonna take awhile before he understands how this works. Confused but he's got the spirit kinda?

May initially try to convince you that you just haven't had good sex yet. Sit him down, explain this all to him, and he'll probably get it. Okay, let's be honest, he still doesn't get it but he respects your choice and generally leaves the subject alone. His libido is quite high though so he will frequently sleep around just to scratch that itch.

⚡️Zeus⚡️

We were doing good until we got to you, huh Zeus? Zeus just quite firmly doesn't believe in asexuality. He definitely thinks you're just confused or that you haven't had sex right yet or that you'll change your mind at some point.

"Asexual? Oh dear, have you been talking to that daughter of mine, Artemis? She's always on about something or other, if she chooses to talk to us at all."

Zeus won't force you to have sex but he will make subtle (he thinks he's being subtle anyway) comments about how you're a tease or a prude. If you're interested in having sex, Zeus doesn't understand the definition and just thinks you don't find him attractive. His feelings are now hurt. He will be throwing a violent totally-not-a-tantrum now.

Will eventually, probably shut up about it. Look, he's never gonna understand it so shutting up about it is the best you're gonna get from him. This idiot thinks with his penis, okay? Athena stole all the intelligence from him at birth. Just doesn't get it, very confused, cannot even comprehend the idea of not wanting to bang everything in sight.

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strangunddurm · 2 months ago

Text

Devout

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, possessive, toxic behaviour

A/N: Started thinking about writing again and found this one hiding in my notes. Hope you enjoy! I've been thinking about wanting to start writing a lot again. My love for Flip is still there (I am forever devout) but I also have this desire to branch out so if anyone is still interested in my writing and have a character they want to read about, please let me know, I am literally interested in anyone and everyone at the moment.

It was common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was utterly and completely infatuated with you. You were it for him. The one he would marry, build a house for, have kids with. You would be his end, but you were not his beginning.

It was also common knowledge that Flip Zimmerman was on an apparent path to sleep with everyone he could that wasn’t you. Fuck, finger, and fondle like he wasn’t an officer of the law and he wasn’t in a very public bar at that very moment. You could see his hand run along her leg, caressing it with the pads of his fingers before it disappeared beneath the fabric of her skirt.

She threw her head back, laughing like nobody was watching, but, of course, you were. Your eyes were always lingering on his figure, just as his were yours. He watched you as he traced the lace of her panties, as he dipped them under the fabric; he watched you as he guided her lips to his; he watched you as he shattered your heart, always knowing that the comfort of your arms would always be there to sooth him in the end.

You often found yourself wondering: why? Why weren’t you enough for him at this point? Flip had this ability where he could string you along enough so that you, yourself, would feel guilty thinking of another man. Your possible unwillingness weren’t the reason for Flip’s hesitancy to commit, it was his. The unwilling fool in love with the same person he had always loved. Or perhaps you were the fool? Two fools in love that could never let the other one go. Never let the other bask in the happiness that was freedom.

Your friends often wondered why you subjected yourself to the torture of witnessing his lips upon another’s. You didn’t know how to explain to them that you only existed because of him. However demeaning and desperate it sounded, it was true. Whilst others existed for bettering the world or something other, you were made just to be his.

You thought for a while that you could live without him. That you could break free from his hold and flee from the place where everything reminded you of him but it was impossible. It didn’t make sense, how a man could possess you so entirely with just a whisper of attention. You thought it to be your own fault; a bleeding consequence of hope that wrecked your heart beyond anyone else’s repair. All you could do was wait for him. For you would forever be missing him otherwise, regretting not taking the possibility of even the tiniest something. Of a laugh, of a smile, of a glance.

So, you found yourself there, putting on a front of indifference as you tried not to watch every stupid move Flip made in the arms of another. She was smug. It was so obvious from the way her eyes would flicker over to you every now and then as his lips caressed her shoulder or her neck.

She knew of Flip’s fondness for you, having seen the way he had given you a sliver of attention by the bar, letting his hand ghost over your hip in a touch that was anything but accidental before she had successfully lured him away from you and into her arms.

You were zoned out, barely hearing your friends’ voices as you stared hard at them. Your lip was near bloody from your nervous chewing as you, almost ritualistically, dragged your teeth over it again and again.

“How long are you going to keep doing this to yourself?” The words were spoken in your ear, your best friends arm coming to wrap around you, pulling you into her embrace.

“I…” She didn’t allow you to continue on the miserable spiel that she had heard so many times before.

“I don’t want to hear it. Not again. You need to realise that you’re worth more than whatever the hell this whole thing is,” She pleaded, pressing a kiss against your temple. “You have to stop doing this to yourself.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you sounded so fragile at that moment. Your voice wavered at the end, fading out as everything you felt became almost too much.

“Yes, you can. You just need to realise that you don’t owe him anything. Sitting here completely miserable isn’t going to make him change or do anything different.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been here with you! Every night we go out to have fun, he comes along and ruins it.”

“No, he doesn’t.” You turned to look at her as you forced the words out harshly. But the look in her eyes made the feigned anger falter.

“I love you. You deserve more. Try to enjoy your life before you realise it’s too late,” She said, squeezing your shoulder.

Did you really deserve more? You had been caught up in the web of Flip for so long that you truly did believe that staying completely devoted to him was the only way forward. You knew he would eventually tire and stop indulging himself in others. It was an unconventional relationship, unfavourable to you in every sense.

But who was to say that you weren’t allowed to enjoy others? Just the way he were? An innocent tryst with another that would scratch that itch not even your fingers could ease late at night.

You let your eyes trail over the inhabitants of the local watering hole. There were the usuals there, sitting at the bar, nursing their beers. A group of frat boys were in the corner, cheering over shots. It wasn’t until a pair of dark brown eyes met your own that your interested was piqued.

You probably wouldn’t have dared made a move if he hadn’t come sauntering over. He didn’t walk like Flip. Flip’s walk was self-assured, dominating in a subtle way that permeated the air around him. This guy walked in a cocky way, shoulders swaying with every step as he though himself holier than thou. It was off-putting, but you thought you owed it to yourself to at least try.

“Saw you watching me over there.” His attempt at flirting was just as cocky as his walk.

“Oh…” The laugh you let out was awkward as you fumble for a reply. “Do you come here often?”

“First time actually, I’m here visiting my brother.” He motioned toward some guy in the back that you couldn’t see.

“That’s nice,” You said awkwardly.

He introduced himself as he took perch on the barstool next to you, shaking your hand weakly.

“So, what do you do for fun around here?” He asked, motioning for the bartender to refill both of your glasses at the same time.

“Ehm… Come here, I guess.” You waved your hand in the air, uncommittedly. Anxiety was flooding your nerves, practically inhibiting your ability to speak. You let your eyes trail over the room again quickly. Flip was still hands-deep in that woman’s skirt, your friends had slipped off somewhere else, getting lost in others.

The man, Chris, held a one-sided conversation without seeming to notice your less than keen interest. The thought of letting go and trying to flirt with somebody else was always easier in theory rather than practice.

It wasn’t his fault, if you were somebody else you might’ve enjoyed it. But all you could think about was the way his eyes were too dark, his hair too light, and his voice to high to remind you of Flip.

“Listen,” He placed his hand on your thigh. High up, bold, wanting. “I really like you, what do you say about getting out of here?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before a chest pressed against your back.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

You felt faint hearing Flip’s voice rumble through his chest as he pulled himself closer to you. His hand wrapped around Chris’s wrist, forcing it away from your leg.

“Hey, man, we were having a conversation here.” Chris was foolish. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t from here, after all. He didn’t know the perfectly concealed rage that could simmer under Flip’s skin when he felt like he was being disrespected. He didn’t know that you were an object of possession that had already been claimed.

“I’m going to offer you a piece of advice.”

“Flip, don’t-” Interjecting was pointless. Flip did whatever Flip wanted.

“You should take your drink, go back to whatever lowly corner you came from, and stay there. Get it through your thick skull that you’re not wanted here.” Flip roughly pushed the glas of beer Chris had been nursing on the bar, it’s content sloshing over the sides as it almost toppled over.

The silence that followed hung in the air, permeating it, polluting it. It didn’t take long for Chris to visibly crumble under Flip’s stare but it was almost as if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He didn’t want to give in to the menacing man that had appeared out of nowhere. Reasonable, perhaps, but entirely futile. Flip would always get what he wanted in the end, no matter what.

Chris left without a word, sparing you a pitiful glance before he was gone and all that was Flip took over your senses as he rounded you, coming to a stop so you were chest to chest.

You refused to look at him, staring straight ahead, focusing on the way his chest would calmly breath in and out as he waited.

“Look at me,” His voice was low, steady. You wanted to, of course, but you were stubborn. Just when you were putting yourself first, there he was again. A forever keg in your wheels, keeping you in the same place, wallowing in your loneliness as you waited for him.

His fingers were soft against your chin as he urged it upwards, making you look at him.

He was smiling. Not a full on grin, but that sweet, cheeky little smile that held so much mirth that you wanted to hit him. It’s like he’d been waiting for this, waiting for you to act out and finally do something for yourself. As if it was all but a game to him. A game that cost you your heart and in which he won your devotion without barely having to make a move.

“Wipe that smile of your face,” you hissed out. “What could you possible have to smile about?”

“You.”

“Oh, yeah, because it is so funny ruining my fucking life.”

“Ruining it?”

“Yeah, ruining it.”

“You should’ve just said something if you felt that way.” You almost laughed at that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t said something. It felt like all you did was talk, and all he did was not care.

“Cut me a fucking break, Flip. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’ve been doing to me. This- this game you’ve been playing, toying with my heart. One minute it feels like you might actually want me but then the next you go and fucksomebody else and I’m just suppose to pretend that it’s all fine?”

“It’s not?” He said, playfully.

“Fuck you.”

“Stop swearing, and keep your voice down.”

“What? So that your whore won’t hear us?”

“She means nothing,” He said

“So why do you keep doing this? Why keep stringing me along?” You were defeated. Your relationship with Flip was strange. Peculiar. Unexplainable in certain aspects as you yourself did not entirely know exactly what you two were.

You looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes as all the hurt you had felt over the past however-long caught up to you. He was looking down at you, as if in wonder. Was it possible that Flip Zimmerman was naive to the way he had treated you? To the way he had made you suffer? Had you been imagining it all in your head?

He didn’t look sorry, he didn’t sound sorry, but when the apology tumbled out of his mouth, you accepted it. Perhaps it was you who were naive but you wanted a moment of happiness with him. Even if it was a moment entirely clouded by delusion.

You nodded your head, a small movement of acceptance that made Flip light up.

Flip would always shine brighter than any star you had ever seen. He took your breath away and filled you with a rush of serotonin every time you gazed into his eyes for even a brief second. His eyes were like molten gold, blinding you as they tinkled. Devotion to him and only him was inevitable.

“Will you come home with me?” The answer was obvious. The question had been what you had waited for. Taking his hand and slipping out through the door before any of your friends still caught in reason could stop you.

His hand dipped between your legs, fingers mapping out a path to your most sacred place the second he pushed you through the door of his home.

"Look at you, already so wet for me." Flip chuckled darkly. He knew you couldn't resist him. Your need for him was as deep as his need was for you. “Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”

His lips met yours in a searing kiss that took your breath away. His tongue caressed yours as teeth clashed. This is what you had yearned for, his lips against yours in a way that promised no other.

His fingers toyed with your panties, teasing you. He knew how desperate you were for anything he would give you.

He took his time, teasing your more and more before he finally was gracious enough to slide a finger inside of you. Just a single finger to test you. You walls clamped down around him tightly, gripping him, coaxing him to give you more. He pumped it in and out of you slowly, so slowly that you thought you might lose your mind if he didn't give you something more, and you voiced so much.

"Please, Flip." What you needed was clear. But that didn’t mean Flip would be so easy to give in.

"You’ll get more, sweetheart. Don’t you worry.” He said sweetly before withdrawing from you completely.

"Flip-"

"You're so impatient." He chided you, tutting teasingly with a lazy smile on his lips. “Go to the bedroom.” He commanded whilst motioning his head in its direction. You were quick to obey, of course, feet moving swiftly as you stumbled your way on shaky legs through the halls and onto his bed.

You flipped onto it in excitement, eager for his touch once again.

“Is this what you wanted? To be one of my whores?” He asked as he undressed slowly, unbuttoning his flannel and letting his jeans fall to the floor before he took a stand by the foot of the bed. He trailed his hands up your legs equally as slow before grabbing a hold of your panties and pulling them off you. You couldn’t get any words out to respond, whining with need.

The evidence of your excitement was clear to him, almost dripping and shining in the low light. A sane man wouldn’t be able to hold back having a women presented so willingly to him with her legs spread wide and the skirt of her dress bunched up around her hip, chest heaving with excitement. And of course, Flip was a sane man, in some sense at least, for he was quick to crawl in between your legs and mouth attached to your clit.

Digging his fingers into your thighs, he hauled one of them onto his shoulder and connected his mouth to your sweet cunt.

The sounds of your breathless moans were intoxicating as he suckled your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the stiff nubb.

Your knees fought against his shoulders as your hand came to cover your mouth, willing any sounds to stay inside of you as you bit down softly as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure rushing through you.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart.” Flip praised in a panted breath before diving back in.

You fought to keep your eyes open as your hips moved up and down in a desperate attempt to grind your aching clit against his mouth and nose in search for that perfect sensation that would drive you over the edge.

Your hand slid into Flip’s hair, gliding through it before grasping a firm hold of it as a wave after wave of moans finally made their way out of you.

Flip had already made you come once when he slid his fingers into you, continuing his ministrations on your clit with his mouth. His movement were much rougher than what they had been before, thrusting them into you expertely, hitting that sweet spot of yours over and over again.

Your back arched into the air and mouth fell open at the overstimulation. It was exquisite.

“Oh, oh, Flip. I’m gonna cum.” You whined desperately. “Oh, God.”

You clung to his arm in an attempt to hold on to any sort of sanity but it was all for nought. Your legs spasmed as you came with a cry.

Flip tried to hold you down as he never let up despite your half hearted please, flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit again and again and again. He worked you through your orgasm, never relenting as your silent whimpers spured him on. You had such a tight hold on his hair that it made him groan, sending a wave of vibrations through you that caused you to gasp. He only stopped once your whimpers had grown in volume to a steady whine of pleas.

“You’re such a good girl.” Flip praised as he came up, hovering over you. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Please, Flip.”

He tugged at his hard and weeping cock a few times as he admired you. You were breath taking like this, legs parted, eyes hazy from your orgasm, cunt dripping, ready for him.

"You’re gonna look so gorgeous, covered with my cum." Flip's voice was husky as he leaned down and pulled you closer to him by your face before planting a sloppy, wet kiss on your lips as he came to rest between your hips, a single arm keeping him up.

He dragged his thick and cum weeping cock through your folds a few times, thoroughly coating it in your slickness. The anticipation was killing you. His fingers and tongue weren't enough, you wanted more, needed it.

You grabbed a hold of his shoulders, pulling him closer even to you in desperation.

"Please, Flip." You whispered, ready for him.

The sigh the both of you let out when he finally slipped all the way into your cunt was one of relief. You had missed this, had missed him.

Flip didn't give you time to adjust to him before he started pounding into you at a pace that was brutal in nature, just the way he knew you liked it.

“You’re such a dirty fucking whore.” He spat at you and you clenched around him in response. "Look at you, so desperate for my dick you could almost cry." He let his thumb run across your cheek in a moment of softness. Being his whore and whatever he wanted was everything you had ever wanted since the moment you had laid eyes on him.

He was so deep inside of you that you barely knew what to do with yourself. Flip's loud groans were bouncing around the walls of his room, blended in with your own gasps from every thrust into you.

Your walls were clenched so tightly around him, drawing him deeper and deeper inside.

"Fuck" You groaned. "Feels so- fucking good." You shakily breath out.

"This is what you wanted right? My cock so deep within you you’ll feel me for days" He cooed, slowing down just slightly, but each thrust was still as sharp, still as precise, and hard, and calculated.

A wailing yes! left your lips. You were sure you would be able to feel Flip's hands on your hips as you would nurse your hangover tomorrow, and most likely the day after that as well. You would feel him in every step you took. Forever.

"Harder." You pleaded.

He pulled out so just his tip was left in you, waiting there for just a second before slamming back into you again, buried to the hilt. The groan Flip let out sent tingles down your spine and caused you to clench even tighter around him, triggering another moan from him.

"I love it when you do that." He praised, followed by another rut into you.

He continued pumping into yours sweet cunt, drawing moans from you that were filthy. The sound of skin slapping and noises of pleasure mixed together as they bounced on the walls and around the room.

His thrusts had picked up in pace one again, ruthless and reckless as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You were trembling against him, breath hitching, getting caught in your chest as you almost forgot how to breathe. You could feel your release mounting quickly once again, shockwaves gripping your body and rolling through you with every buck into you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come,"

"No, you're not." Flip withdrew from you completely, flipping down on the bed beside you. You were drunk on the feeling of him, needy and desperate, ready to take everything he would give to you.

His legs were spread, cock standing on full attention, bobbing against his stomach, it's tip coloured an angry red, ready to be inside of you again.

"Come on then." He pulled you out of the short-lived trance you had been in over the sight of him. You though again of how there was something so ethereal about him, something other than just his looks, something that would always draw you back in and keep you on his hook.

You were quick in your movements, throwing a leg around his hips and hoisting yourself upright, causing him to chuckle over your desperation.

"Eager, are we?" He welcomed you with open arms, hands coming up to rest on your hips once again, as he gazed up at you with a smile on his face.

He helped you pull your wrinkled dress over your head, placing open mouthed kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach. His lips attached themselves to your perked nipple, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a pop.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." He sounded as if he was in awe simply over the sight of you.

You sank down swiftly, engulfing him with your tight walls, stopping only when you were at the base, stuffed full of him.

"Oh, fuck, Flip!" The change in angle had you convinced that he was deeper in you than ever before, the tip of him nestling against your cervix.

"You feel so good like this." Flip moaned. He tapped two fingers against the side of your thigh, signalling you to move and you were more than happy to oblige. Your feet were securely rooted on the floor and you placed your hands on the walls to give yourself the leverage and support you needed to begin riding him.

He let you control every movement; let you set the pace as you slid up and down on his throbbing cock. Flip's hands were exploring every inch of you that they could reach, massaging your breasts, caressing your thighs, sliding across your back, and then, finally, they found their way to the apex of your thighs and started firmly circling your clit.

Flip let out a loud grunt every time you slammed yourself down onto him. It was a sound you wanted to hear every day, every waking moment and in every vivid dream.

The steady pace that you had managed to keep was slowly becoming nothing as you felt yourself loosing control over your limbs the closer you climbed to that high you were chasing. The muscles in your stomach were tightening rapidly over the coiling tension and your walls gripped him even tighter.

"Say my name."

"What?" You weren't lucid enough to possibly begin to understand what he meant at that moment.

"Say. My. Name." He repeated, making sure to punctuate every single word with a small thrust upward to meet you as you came down on him.

His name spilled out of your mouth just a few seconds later in the form of a moan.

"Who’s making you feel this good?" You weren't as quick to heed his words this time, the building pressure between your legs taking up all of your attention.

His hands were back on your hips, forcing you up, slipping out of you, and then guiding you dominantly into the position he wanted with your face pressed into the sheets and your ass high up in the ar. He was swift to enter you again, you had barely even had time to complain over the loss of him before he was drilling into you.

"Flip!" You shouted his name as you finally came, tumbling over the edge as stars were painted behind your eyelids. Your legs were shaking, spasming, through the waves, words of gibberish leaving your mouth as he made you babble like a brook. He hadn't even faltered in his movements, continuing to pump into you as he chased his own climax. He was panting loudly in between groans and the sound of skin slapping against each other.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You." Another sharp thrust into you.

"Who owns this pussy?"

"You, Flip. Oh, god, you, Flip!" Small droplets of tears were leaking from the corner of your eyes as Flip was steadily driving you to cum again as he fucked into you.

You hadn't felt this way before, you didn't even know you could feel this way; the overwhelming stimulation that was rushing through your blood, lighting your nerves on fire, making you want to stay right here, right now, forever.

"That's fucking right." Flip came with a deep jerk into you, pulling out to come all over your back before entering you again to give you a few last thrilling pumps.

You laid there on his bed in a heap, totally out of it as he calmly came to rest beside you. He coaxed you onto your back so that he could plant a sweet kiss on your lips. Uttering words that made your erratic heart pump even faster.

“All mine.”

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman smut #adcu fanfiction #Adam driver #Adam driver fan fiction #Adam Driver x reader #Adam Driver x y/n #Flip Zimmerman x y/n

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captain-bubble-wrap · 4 months ago

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I'VE SEEN IT GOING AROUNF IT'S YOUR TURN NOW! AUSTON AND QUINN BABYFEVER PARTNER!!! LIKE ASKING THEM AVOUT IF THEY WERE READY FOR A FAMILY TYPE STUFF MAYBE???????? GOD I NEED IT🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Oooo-- a 2-for-1 post, huh? I like it! Auston's is below the cut~🩷

You'd be going through Pinterest one morning, sitting on the sofa with Quinn's head in your lap. One hand was scrolling while the other was lost in his soft curls. He was engrossed in a book when your question pulled him from his literary daydream. "Baby, what do you think about kids?"

The book soon rested upon his chest, Quinn's eyes locking on to yours. He looked terrified, "Uh-- kids? Like-- in general?"

You were still looking at your phone, smiling at some felted play-food sets flooding your feed from previous saves. "Like, having kids."

"Oh, um...I don't know. I've never-- thought about it."

It was the hesitation in his voice that finally pulled you from your phone's screen. When you finally looked down, you saw the way his brows were pulled in, his silent panic.

"I've just been thinking about it," you confessed.

"Do I want to ask why?" Quinn asked, swallowing hard.

You'd laugh slightly at his probing question, "I don't know, do you?"

Quinn sounded like a little kid himself, scared to ask a question he already knew the answer to. "Are you-- wanting kids?

"I'd love to, mhm," you answered honestly, putting your phone down while he continued to look up at you in mild disbelief. I'm not saying I want to get pregnant by next week, Quinn. I was just asking what you thought. Sorry." You looked away from his face, feeling guilty about having said anything about it. Your hormones were running unchecked at the moment and you were trying to push back the urge to cry.

"Hey, hey," Quinn backpedaled, pulling himself back to a seated position. "Y|N, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Shaking your head, you'd stay looking down even though his fingers touched your jaw to pull your eyes back to him. "You're fine."

"Baby, I'm sorry. Please, will you look at me?"

Though it hurt to, you flashed your eyes back to Quinn's. He looked heartbroken, as his palm moved against your cheek. You had just meant your silly little question as just that: something fun to discuss. Had you known it was going to freak him out so much, you would have just kept to pinning baby posts to your secret board and left it at that.

"I've just never thought about having kids before, that's all," he added. "It's not that wouldn't want to. I just-- it hadn't crossed my mind."

"I understand," you mumbled. "I didn't mean to make you feel weird about anything."

He shook his head, "I'm okay. I just want to know if you are."

"Yeah."

Quinn sighed, knowing you were only saying yes to appease him, "Here, why don't you show me what you've been looking at? If it made you smile that much, I'd like to see it. Please?"

"But it's baby stuff."

He smiled, "I'm sure it is, and it's okay. I'm not scared, babe. I just want to see what you're interested in. We can talk about things, okay?"

"Are you sure?" You asked reluctantly, even though he had been the one to approach the subject.

"Of course. I'm kinda curious about these dream kids you've been keeping from me."

You had been in the kitchen when Auston came to find you. It wasn't uncommon for him to linger around while you worked, especially things in the kitchen. But when you turned to greet him, the look he gave you was different -- almost concerned.

"What's wrong, honey?" You asked, as you dried your hands.

"Are you alright?"

His question struck you as odd, your expression matching the confusion you were feeling. "Far as I know, yeah. Why?"

Auston looked down at his clasp hands, forearms bracing his weight against the counter. He looked...nervous. "Uh-- pregnancy tests?"

Your heart started to race. You thought you had hidden them, but apparently not well enough. "Oh..."

He raised one brow at your single word response. "Yeah?"

"I'm not pregnant, baby. I just--," you stopped, having to sigh to relieve the tension before you fully answered. "I bought them for..."

"For...a friend?"

You managed a snort, "No, not for a friend. I bought them for me."

"Have you been...late?"

"No, everything is fine, Auston," you smiled, trying to calm his nerves. "I'm not late. I picked them up-- just in case."

"In case you got pregnant?"

"Well, in case we wanted to," you mumbled, suddenly feeling really shy about everything.

Auston said nothing to counter your statement, instead he moved to take you into his arms. You didn't push him away, but you felt really small -- like you could have been blown away had there been any wind.

"I didn't know how to bring this up," you confessed, your hands pressed against his chest. "You weren't supposed to find those."

He just smiled, trying to reassure you that he wasn't upset. "Been having more baby fever, mama?"

That pet name always gave you butterflies and had a double meaning during this conversation. "I didn't want to bring it up. Not now, anyways, but-- here we are."

"Bring what up? That you want kids?" His smile in that moment was so warm and genuine. "You don't have to keep stuff like that to yourself."

"Yeah, but, it's the middle of the season. The last thing you need to deal with is me wishing I was pregnant."

Auston laughed, tightening his hold. "I dunno, that's a pretty cute image in my head right now. I could get used to you looking like that."

Your cheeks flushed immediately with heat. And just as quickly, Auston picked you up, setting you down on the counter as he stood between your legs. "I mean, if we start now, maybe you'll be due at Christmas."

"Oh my god, Auston!" You shrieked, half laughing. You couldn't believe what you were hearing! It had been such a relief that he was going along with the conversation given how it had all started just minutes ago.

Auston just smirked, pulling you into him. "C'mon, mama, let's see what we can do to remedy your little problem."

#quinn hughes #auston matthews #quinn hughes imagine #auston matthews imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #auston matthews fanfic #quinn hughes fluff #auston matthews fluff #🗣 hockey mom daydreams

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jd-loves-fiction · 5 months ago

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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚

❏ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Aventurine x GN!Reader

❏ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff + ANGST!!!

❏ 𝐰𝐜: 1.6k

❏ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Aventurine has been distant since returning from Penacony. He finally decides it's time to tell you all you deserve to know... or as must as he can bring himself to, for now. His real name seems like a good place to start.

❏ 𝗮/𝗻: Full disclosure, this was meant to be smutty but I got lost in the sauce (angst and Aven's incredible character writing) so all aboard the sad but fluffy train instead :)

The heavy oak door slides open smoothly, the sound of expensive leather shoes tapping against wooden floors as Aventurine sighs far too heavily. When you look around the corner at him, he’s taking off his hat before tugging off his shoes.

“Hello,” you breathe softly, hand upon his chest while pecking his chapped lips. He offers a low grunt in response as you draw back to look him over, “Riney?”

He seems to flinch, an anguished expression there in a second and gone the next, covered by that deceitful veil of a smile, far too cheerful to be genuine, “Darling–”

Your finger meets his lips before he has a chance to pretend like nothing is wrong, along with a stern but fond look. You take his coat and begin leading him further into the apartment, urging him to sit on the couch.

Ever since Penacony he’d been… distant. Not that your relationship had ever been especially intimate before, at least not emotionally, but something had changed on that planet. You’d catch him watching you more than usual, looking away when caught unlike usual; see him reach for you out of the corner of your eye only for his hand to drop before it touched you; he’d begin to form a sentence with a strangely serious look on his face before slamming his mouth shut in obvious frustration.

The night he’d returned… you could tell there was something itching to make its way out past his trembling lips… but knowing he’d be meeting with the rest of the Stonehearts early the next morning you told him to rest instead; to tell you another time.

It’s been weeks. And with his increased workload, the subject just hasn't come up – that's what you told yourself anyway. Clearly there was something he wanted, needed to say, but your relationship had never been one where you’d be allowed to push him for an answer and vice versa… you learned that very early on.

So you dont push him for an answer, kneeling between his legs and caressing his cheeks, “Tired?”

He nods wordlessly, eyes barely open, subtly leaning into your affection. He must be truly exhausted, “Come on.”

“Hm?” The look on his face when you pull away so suddenly to stand breaks your heart – like he’d been broken out of a trance, “I’ll run you a bath.”

Your feet itch to shuffle nervously, afraid you’ve pushed too far. He seemed receptive, but what if he’s done letting you in?

“Okay…” Aventurine whispers, taking your hand and letting you pull him along towards the bathroom. You don't comment on the dazed look on his face.

The man sits by as you warm the water, softly rambling about bath salts and scents you think he’ll enjoy, and other topics he cannot bring himself to focus on as the storm that has been building since Penacony starts boiling over.

You deserve to know. He must tell you– but what if– no. You deserve to know. No matter how much he would rather keep your relationship as is instead of risking ruining everything by telling you the truth, he cannot keep it to himself any longer.

If you call him that name again, in that sweet, lovely voice of yours, he might snap.

“Water’s warm.” He snaps out of his haze, managing a small smile in acknowledgment, before standing up to take his clothes off.

The urge to turn away and busy yourself in order to keep yourself from staring is ludicrous – you’ve seen him naked more times than you can count. That's how this all started after all. And yet you give in, fiddling with shampoo bottles in order to give him space.

“What? Don't tell me I've gotten so hideous you can't even look at me?” He calls out cheekily, hoping to lift the weight that had settled in the air between you.

“No!” You answer, turning to Aventurine just as he pulls his shirt over his head, not even bothering with the buttons. Eyes yearn to linger on the hills and valleys of his alabaster skin, but they instead settle on the brand at the side of his neck; ‘slave’ it reads. That was the topic of your first argument. Or what could have become an argument if you’d pushed any further. “Not at al.”

Your eyes over him with such open fondness, knelt by the bath you prepared simply because you know he’s tired – Aventurine has to look away, lest he blurt out something he’ll regret.

The temperature of the water is just right and yet it seems to burn him, unknowingly cold as he’d become from the anxiety running through his veins, as if chastising him for taking so long to just say it; to bear it all to the person who’s cared for him the most in years; who’s seen through his lies and never pushed, gazed upon his scars and never questioned…

“...Riney?” He’s sitting in the water, straight as a rod, head down, hair over his eyes and you worry if the water’s too cold, or too hot, or if he has any injuries he forgot to tell you about. Your hand reaches to sweep his hair from his eyes, before it’s caught in his grasp, “Aventurine?”

He shakes his head slowly, his grip soft and yet trembling, “Please… don't call me that…”

“What… should I call you then?”

Silence.

A long silent moment of a million thoughts running through both your heads.

And then, like a stab through the heart, “Kakavasha.”

It’s not a word you recognize. The synesthesia beacon didn't translate it. It must be Avgin. His birth name.

“Kakavasha.” You repeat quietly, testing the pronunciation – hoping you’ve got it right.

His head snaps in your direction so quickly it makes you jump, seizing you by the shoulders, hands dripping warm water. Beauty eyes wide, pupils dilated, lovely lips agape, “Did I… say it wrong?”

“No it’s– it’s perfect. You’re just… the first person to say it in so long.” His hold on you eases.

“Talk to me.”

Kakavasha looks at you now and truly sees you, clearer than he ever has and wonders for a moment if you’re real at all. If he’s still a boy in a cage with a collar around his neck. He quickly decides that, no, you have to be real. His mind isn't so kind as to imagine something as lovely as you.

“I’m sure you know most of the story but,” his hands move through the water, scooping some onto his shoulders just to have something to do, “I’m from Sigonia-IV. I’m the last Avgin and my name is Kakavasha. There’s so much more I want to tell you. So much more you deserve to know. About my sister, my mother, how the IPC found me. But I don't know if I–” he looks down at his hands.

“You don't have to say it all right now. Just let it come out.” You get to rubbing his shoulders, processing the information and aligning it with what you’d inferred over your months together, “But… what exactly made you decide to tell me?”

He heaves a deep, tortured sigh – this is the hard part. As if admitting he’s the last of his species and giving you his real name wasn't hard enough.

“Penacony… turned into much more of a mess than I expected.” He considers his next words very carefully, unsure if it'd be more cruel to tell you or not to do so, “I was… expecting to die there.”

A sharp intake of breath passes through your lips, hands flinching away from his figure – it’s a lot to process but, somehow, someway, it’s not entirely surprising.

“Well, I’m very glad you were unsuccessful.” Your attempt at humor is transparently tinged with both love and fear, lips trembling at the thought… that he’d be gone. Without ever telling you any of this.

Without saying goodbye.

“What happened there… it’s all very confusing but it made me realize that I wanted someone to know who I am. On the inside.”

“I wanted you to know.”

“Me?” You question meekly, suddenly unsure. He’d always been a guarded man, beneath the surface that is.

His hands rise out of the water again to cradle your face in warm, wet palms, beautiful singular irises boring into yours with a sincerity you’d thought him incapable of until an hour ago.

“There’s no one who deserves to know more than you.”

Waterline burning with tears you move to kiss his forehead amongst wet strands of gold, lips linger to ensure that he is real, he is here with you, opening up in a way so seemingly impossible it makes you a little dizzy.

“I guess we have to start somewhere… Tell me about your sister.”

The air between you is forever changed, both lighter and heavier somehow. But also brighter, warmer, like the gentle sun rising over the deserts of Sigonia-IV.

Everytime he speaks of his family, he gets a dazzling glimmer in his eyes, like he’s a boy again, playing with his sister, carefree and gentle.

And when he speaks of what came later, it’s lost, his expression turns sour and grim, like he’s in that cage again, doing everything to get out. He’s no less handsome with that expression as any other. In fact, the more you learn, the more you realize that losing him would’ve broken you. The depth of his clever mind, the fondness of his gaze, the shining sincerity of real laugh. It would be a shame to lose it all.

He blushes red as a rose when you tell him, suddenly upon a random morning, unprepared and for the first time in a long time, unwilling to raise his walls at your assault on his fragile, vulnerable heart.

One day he’ll tell you how his heart thunders in his chest like it might burst right out and leap into your own chest to meet yours, when you say his name so softly.

Kakavasha.

#hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #kakavasha #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader

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writingwisterias · 6 months ago

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How do you think each era of Leon, would be like, not after, but before the deed with his s/o? 😝

Hello!

Thank you for the request! I've never really thought about this before so this was really fun! I hope you like it.

Warnings: slight SMUT, Sexual Tension, 18+ Only GN! Reader RE2, RE4R, Infinite Darkness, Damnation, RE6, Vendetta, Death Island

RE2:

Okay so I don't really think of Rookie Leon being inexperienced but rather he's just nervous about it

I think he would be shy about his skill set but he's actually a god at sex

That being said you would have to be the one to initiate it.

He's too nervous to make the first move because he's afraid he has picked up the wrong social cues.

He would fumble around a lot and probably have a stupid smile if you led him to wherever.

Like he's just happy to be there really

Instant boner, like it's rock hard. You poke it and it isn't squidgy in the slightest

You are concerned about how hard so quickly.

RE4R:

I think he's a lot softer in his approach. Almost like he's cautious and weary in case you don't want it

however that being said, he is not subtle in his touches

THE most touchy-feely person ever.

I'm talking like he will walk past you and place his hands on your side.

If he needs something on the top shelf he's pressing himself against you. Making sure you can feel his boner on your ass

When cuddling he's rubbing your skin slowly getting lower and lower until he's getting closer to a more sensitive area

Infinite Darkness:

He wouldn't give you subtle hints about what he wants to do.

He's probably standing there looking at you with a raging hard on

Won't mention it or draw attention to it, as he is waiting for you to make the first move or notice

If you didn't for a while and he got impatient then he would take matters in his own hands

I'm talking like walking over to you and pressing it in your hip or ass

Or if you are sat down the thing is in your face as he looks down at you.

Like he's big so you and clearly see what he wants

If he was working and came home wanting it, he's just dragging you.

Doesn't matter where you are, it's instant like you have to fix it for him

Damnation:

I think this is where gets a little more demanding from you in terms of it

Like hell make sure it's scheduled in regularly

You don't care, it's cute seeing this older guy not be able to hold back

He'll come back from where, slightly tipsy and just instantly upon you

Probably a bit rough with his touches

Loves groping your breasts and ass

If you are in public he's touching you more, closer to you when you are both walking.

RE6:

If he's out or not at home but is going to be later he's sending you a dick pick

Doesn't matter where he is or you, he's finding a place to at least send a photo of his bulge or the actual boner itself

Probably captions it like "look at what you do to me" or something

Would also send texts like "you better be prepared when I get home"

He's not going to shy away from the subject or admitting what he wants

He'll just tell you

It's the same as if he's there with you, he'll just ask if you're in the mood.

If you are then he's instantly getting you ready..if not then well he would respect it and wait until you are.

Vendetta:

The roughest out of all of them. By rough I just mean possessive and demanding.

Like he's using this as an escape.

He's needy too so it's like lots of touches or groping

His hands are everywhere. Even being as bold as rubbing your nipples through your shirt. Or your clit through your underwear

When he's drunk it's even worse.

He's doing the same but might be slightly harder because hks brain is fuzzy and can't control his movements

His words are unclear so it takes you a while to understand what he's actually asking you for.

Leon does however still understand and do foreplay - he's a gentleman like that

He needs you properly prepped

Death Island:

GENTLE

Like he's teasing you throughout the day, giving you small hints etc

But he's gentle about it and will back off immediately if you aren't in the mood

Clingy again, like he's just there

You turn around and he's leaning against the doorway with that damn smirk

I'm talking like his arms are above his head

Has done that and lost his grip before

He's like a shadow until you give him what he wants or he'll back away if you say otherwise

Will make sure his hard on is visible if he's got one

I'm talking like at family events he'll pull you into his lap making sure it's sandwich in your cheeks

#~mads rambles #~mads~mail💌#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine

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ekrixart · 7 months ago

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Hello!!!! It's been a while since rot in paradise came out but was there a canon reason everybody went in the ocean at the end? I know it was more metaphorical but I was still confused

Typically I don't like giving an outright "this is what the game was about" with projects I work on because I feel it can take away from the player experience and leaves less room for speculation and theorizing. Right after the game came out and for the month during the game jam I wanted people to be able to have their own take away of the game and didn't want to interject or place the idea that there was a "right" way to view it, especially since its a game with a looser plot and I didn't want it to cloud players individual interpretations of it.

A lot of people mentioned feeling like the story hit hard and felt personal to them which tells me that the themes and emotions we were going for were felt by some players but even more players were left confused or frustrated by the ambiguity. I understand that stories with more subjectivity that lean more into surreal visuals and open endings will land for less people but it still falls on the creator to tactfully deliver that message and I agree with a lot of the criticism that Rot in Paradise kinda fell flat of that.

From what Ive seen a lot of people felt like RIP had potential but it didn't follow through or feel cohesive enough. The main story was meant to touch on the themes and feeling of losing loved ones to dangerous ideologies and addiction. There wasn't a set in stone plot reason that everyone on the island falls victim to it, there wasn't a secret wrong thing that all of them did that June didn't- which was intentional to portray it as some people being susceptible to things you wouldn't think as reasonable but also potentially muddled the themes.

It was also meant to work as grounds for making the player feel confused and disoriented and wonder what they could have done differently to save them. There isn't anything that it seems the others interact with that June doesn't, she's able to partake in the same activities everyone else does without it altering her the way it alters them. It's a matter of forces outside her control effecting them more than it effects her and whether she wants to succumb to something she's capable of escaping to stay with her friends or leave them behind as they get worse and worse is up to her.

There were a lot of elements I think that worked against the favor of having that theme work. Even with a lot of the people who did notice and remark upon the message, it felt like the general vibe was "oh heyyy this part kinda sorta reminded me of this theme but idk if that was intentional" rather than a direct "this is what the theme of the game is". Overall while opinions on RIP were more mixed than previous entires I'm excited to tackle stories with more subtextual elements more in depth in the future outside of game jams. Rot in Paradise is probably one of less narratively successful games I've worked on in my opinion but still got me really excited about exploring that space and improving on stories like it in future projects and I'm still really proud of working on it

#ask #rot in paradise

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hbheavensent · 2 months ago

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Mammon/Leviathan

Ugh my favorite toxic situationship, let's rock and roll-

OH AND LIGHT TW FOR CANNIBALISM FOR LEVIS BACKGROUND

Let's start with Mammon, being that he's my favorite cannon!sin and that I didn't change much with his design. Really I just wanted to see him in more outfits/makeup so I just played around with that idea. Leaned into the rich guy circa 1600s, somewhat inspired by the fat officials from Demon Souls but only loosely. Really I think his designs works really well already but I am bias. In terms of his personality, I'm changing the fact that he's portrayed as stupid- it doesn't make sense to me that the guy handling all of the money is dumb as a box of rocks. So I made him generally very smart, just easily distracted and silly.

He is also another subject of me exploring how each sin handled falling from grace, Mammon in particular went full fledged head in the sand. He could never handle the fact that he could never have Heaven again, could never have his old body, the vast wealth of knowledge that Heaven had him be in charge of. Back in Heaven I've pulled from a couple sources and also written my own stuff in but in THIS version he was a Principality Angel in charge of the Celestial Treasury of Heaven. A celestial vault containing not just material wealth but also knowledge, wisdom, and spiritual riches, which he could bestow upon those deemed worthy, though often doesn't. Mammon was Angel of Prosperity before falling shortly after Beelzebub. He professes that there's no reason to talk about Heaven and fully leaned into his sin immediately because processing anything is way too much for him.

Mammon, aside from Levi and Lucifer, has the hardest time maintaining relationships with anyone including the other sins. So he's wildly lonely, which is hard to talk about without bringing up Sariel (a character I've written in) but we'll get there later.

However there is one person who puts up with Mammon on the regular...

Leviathan went through a lot of changes, while I like the conjoined twin look something about the way it was animated felt... off. Levi struck me as uninteresting compared to the rest of the sins. A lot of what I did was just smash the two halves of Levi together, give her some bangles and jewelry, and make her a sick ass fish form. About that fish form, there's a slight glow behind the inside head which is actually from her sister's broken halo! Let's get into that. So I'm using the interpretation that The Crusaders Academy uses because it's metal as all hell and I can't find any other interpretation where Leviathan has twin specifically (makes me wonder if Viv saw the same wiki page? I dunno. It's a neat wiki but I have no idea where it came from.) The way I'm writing it is that the Levithan we know used to be a run of the mill Angel along with their twin sister Ziz who served under Uriel. Uriel was an Archangel who presided over wisdom and the Archangel who took over the Treasury of Heaven after Mammon's fall. Both Levi and Ziz were close with Mammon, though Ziz was much more friendly and a touch ditzy which made her endearing. Very likable, where Leviathan sort of fumbled every interaction. After sin was created by The Apple Incident, Levi found herself drifting more and more from social interactions with anyone as they filled her with unending jealousy. She was friends with all of the sins before they fell but only by account of being friends with Mammon, by the fact that she was there but no one really knew her.

As people fell and titles were gained across Heaven and Hell, Levi and Ziz took up their jobs as sort of secretaries under Uriel. Uriel took a shine to Ziz's creative spark and really became close with her while Levi was struggling internally with her sin. Eventually it came to a head, and by a technicality, Angel's mouths are not considered holy weapons. Leviathan ate her sister alive, by some merit Ziz is alive still. Her halo was taken by Raguel only after Sariel, Sera, and Uriel walked in on the gory scene. A part of Leviathan's punishment is to have half of her face and body be reminiscent of her sister for all of eternity. That artistic spark and sense of fashion is all Ziz, Leviathan just stole it.

While being one of the lowest classes of Angels in Heaven, Leviathan is the only sin to technically still have a halo.. even if it's not outward. It burns sometimes in Levi's throat I imagine. Levi is incapable of having healthy relationships, while Mammon struggles he could be worked around in order to maintain healthy distance with someone. However, his relationship with Levi is anything but healthy. Levi is temperamental, always assuming the worst, the definition of "you KNOW other women???". Levi is also the type of person to hold back any grievances in order to appear socially acceptable and then blow up at someone for not being a mind reader. Mammon has to walk on glass around her, which is notably hard for him. They fight a lot but Mammon keeps coming back. Partially because he can't let anything go, but also partially because he understands your sin ruining your ability to maintain any social aspects of your life. Who else is going to put up with her if not him? Who would put up with him if not her or the people he literally PAYS to stick around? And the part he wont acknowledge, having Levi is almost like having Ziz again. Almost. Levi on the other hand, absolutely knows why Mammon sticks around. She finds comfort in the fact that he is a social disaster, in turn making her look better. She knows he'll always come back. It's a constant that she really needs to keep around. If he wants to pretend he still has her sister, then he sure can do that. She'll just yell at him when it gets to be too much later.

Anyway I love her, she's so fucked up. I have more thoughts really but this is a LONG ASS POST-

#helluva boss critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva redesign #hbheavensentdesigns #leviathan #leviathan helluva boss #mammon #helluva boss mammon #mammon hb #I could kiss Mammon on the mouth but you didn't hear that from me

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slater-baby · 3 months ago

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Slater's Basic Writing Tips

A post on how I began writing, how I try to improve my writing, and how I describe my own writing!

This post was written per request by an anonymous ask. Refer to this post for the specific question.

A question from an anonymous writer:

"i was wondering if you could give us some insight on how you found your writing style? You have a way to make it still feel complex and full of emotion but also like the reader is right there with all the senses being touched upon. I don't know how to write about it without gushing, but my question is how did you learn to do this and what would you describe your writing style as? (as well as any hacks or tips)"

How did I begin to write?

It's hard to remember, but I really just jumped into the deep end. When I first began writing, I had no plans to do anything more than write short, 1k stories about frivolous things. I did no research, took no classes, read up on no advice.

I just started.

Of course, back then, I had no expectations for myself. I wasn't writing for a specific audience, nor was I looking to take myself seriously, and I think that helped in a lot of ways. Having fun with it, letting yourself make mistakes, and not being afraid to jump into the deep end definitely helped. In the end, all that mattered was that I was putting words down on the page.

I think that this works for a lot of hobbies. Like drawing for example. Say that you wanted to learn how to draw, but read no books on the subject, looked up no tutorials, and didn't take anyone's advice. Even without any instruction, if you drew a picture every day for 100 days straight, there would still be improvement in your ability to draw. In the end, it doesn't entirely matter whether you thought the drawings were good on a day to day basis, but rather the act of drawing that's important.

Writing is similar in many ways. And while I think that learning to write in a formal environment is great and should be encouraged for all people, practicing your writing without any rules or structure shouldn't be looked down upon either!! They're two sides of the same coin, and they contribute to your goal in their own individual ways.

Let yourself write shitty things. Let yourself write meaningless, stupid things. Trust me, it'll make your life better.

How do I try to improve my writing?

a. Read!

I've thought A LOT about what kind of advice I might give you, and while I don't have any concrete "hacks" to writing well, I think there are some things that every writer can do to expand upon their own abilities!

I know this is common advice, but it's true advice:

If you want to write well, you need to read well.

For a long time, I (like an idiot) assumed that I didn't really read that much, so when people were always saying that writers need to read, I was kind of like "huh well I guess I'm behind on the game lmao"

But, in actuality, I realized that that it was the complete opposite 💀 I guess it just didn't register in my mind because I don't consider reading reading....like, I just considered it me having fun alkdfjlkaf 💀

Like, reading is basically on the same level as playing video games and going to parties for me aldskjfaklj It's not a task so much as it is something I am actually viscerally addicted to lmao

I read at least 2 hours every day, usually more. I read for about an hour when I wake up and about an hour when I go to bed, mostly fiction novels. I read news articles every day at lunch for the large part of my break, which is about an hour. I read academic journals and nonfiction for class, and I also read other academic journals just in my free time 💀 that sounds dorky but it's not really serious reading as it is so much me looking up a question on google and then getting sucked into a journal about evolutionary biology LMAO

Basically, reading is like doing crack to me, and like a dumbass, I read so much that I actually thought I didn't read at all because everyone was talking about it like it was some big chore or something 💀

But honestly, it's great advice.

Read a lot. Enjoy reading a lot. Don't read just for the sake of reading, or because you have to do it. Read because you just fucking love reading! Read stupid novels that have bad reviews. Read short articles that don't mean anything. Read highly academic works for your studies, or read a journal about a topic you can barely understand purely because you're curious!

Don't let those haughty literature people tell you that you're only reading if you're reading something like Dostoevsky.

Reading is a skill and there are different levels to it. Maybe dense literature is too much for you. Doesn't mean you're worse than someone who can choke down the Iliad like it's nothing. Maybe it just means you want to spend time on things like Percy Jackson or Harry Potter instead!

b. Analyze the media you consume!

Now, this is definitely more difficult to do than just picking up a book and reading it. Admittedly this skill takes awhile to develop, and if you haven't done higher level reading in a formal setting before, you might find it kind of hard. However, if you're looking to take writing more seriously, then this is what I recommend. Here's a few things you should consider when analyzing a piece of media.

Just because you criticize something doesn't mean you can't love it, too. No piece of media is perfect. In fact, search for things you think a great piece of media could improve upon, and it'll help identify flaws in your own writing. For example, in the newest season of Severance (no spoilers), I thought that the time spent on establishing the scenery and atmosphere of some episodes was too long, and that that it lost the focus of the plot after a certain length of time.

There is no objective morality. There is no one set of beliefs that is entirely correct in the world. Claiming that one certain belief is entirely true is kind of like telling someone God exists: you really can't prove it. If a piece of media goes against your own views, consider what points the author makes that supports their thesis. Do you have to agree with them? No. Do you have to support them? No. But should you recognize that such a view point exists? Yes. It's important to always keep yourself aware of different points of view. Don't allow yourself to exist in an echo chamber.

If a piece of media leaves you confused, ask yourself why you're confused about the story. Is it because of the length of the piece? Is it because you don't recognize all of the words the author used? Is it because it's a view point you've never considered before? Or is it because the knowledge was presented in a bad way, making it hard to understand? If so, how could the author have presented it to make it more comprehensible?

Okay okay before this starts sounding like your high school English textbook, let's take a step back. You don't need to get out your college rule notebook and have your pencil at the ready to analyze a book you're reading. You can do it in small and meaningless ways!

If you're at the theater watching a movie, tell your friends what you thought about the movie! Listen to what they thought about the movie! Things like "I liked the story, but that one guy's acting kinda ruined the message" is a totally valid criticism, too. Same thing goes for books and movies! Like, "I really liked this book, but I didn't understand the words the author used in this scene, and it made the story hard to understand."

c. Take Grammar Into Consideration

Okay...this might be kind of an unpopular take when it comes to fan fiction, but grammar does matter. When it comes to short pieces, not using capital letters or commas might not seem like a big deal. However, at a certain point, trying to read something without proper grammar transforms from an innocent writing choice into an incomprehensible mess, especially when you're writing long form documents.

If you're considering writing longer pieces, please take the time to learn the rules of grammar. I promise it will help you get your point across so much smoother! Also, there are many readers who simply won't take a chance on your writing if they see that it's not properly formatted, and then they'll be missing out! Make sure to put your best foot forward for the sake of yourself and to give your readers the story experience they deserve!!

d. Find examples of writing styles you like!

This kind of goes hand in hand with my point about reading. While you're doing your reading, find examples of stories and media that you like the style of! Try to identify characteristics of that style that you're attracted to.

What kind of imagery is there? Is it metaphorical? Is it literal?

Do they use a lot of complex sentences? Maybe they like simple sentences, like getting straight to the point?

What's their tone? Are they blunt? Are they flowery?

When you're doing your own writing, you can try to incorporate these characteristics into your own pieces! Here's an example.

One of my favorite pieces of writing and media is the video game Disco Elysium. It's written so well. I really love the style of the author, specifically how he incorporates personification into his description of objects. I also like how he relies on fairly simple sentences to create visual description. In fact, if you pay close attention to Chapter 12: Glass Cut of Texas Red, you'll probably be able to see the influence from Disco Elysium peeking through my own writing style there!

e. Don't be afraid to sleep on it!

This.

This is my best writing advice.

You can read every book in the library, take every course at your local college on writing, and you'll still sit down one day and write something that you're just not sure about. Is it bad? Is it good? Is it some monstrous type of in-between that you can't even describe?

Fuck if you know.

And that's okay.

Not everything you write will be amazing. But instead of giving up on a piece that's halfway written when you get frustrated, close your computer and re-read what you wrote in the morning. Go do something else, clear your mind, sleep well in the evening, and give it some fresh eyes in the morning!

9 times out of 10 you'll be able to come to a conclusion on it in the morning.

The way I personally like to do it is this: Stare at my word document until I'm about to rip my hair out, slam my laptop closed, go play some mindless game for wayyyyy too long, and then sleep until my alarm physically cannot ring any more obnoxiously. Then, before I do anything else, I'll open my phone and squint through my exhaustion to reread what I wrote.

Idk how to describe it, but somehow, it works like a charm LMAO

How would I describe my own writing?

Oh god......this one I actually might not know 💀 anon you've got me

Okay, I guess here's how I would describe my style. It's highly...emotional for me. I think that's how I live my life, and I think my writing reflects that. For example, when you think about description in a novel, you often think of describing how objects and people look. But over the years in my personal life, I've discovered that I really just...don't care about the visuals of a person or place. For me, I rely heavily on how that person or objects makes me feel, not what my opinion on its appearance is.

If you read my story Indigo, you might have noticed that I never truly described what Simon looks like beyond small details of his person. Particular scars that were important to the story, what color his hair was, what clothes he was wearing--those were the only things I ever really described about his appearance, and even then, they were only written into the story when it was important to what was going on.

But, in actuality, Simon's appearance was incredibly important to Indigo. In fact, the entire premise relies on his fixation with his own appearance. But the way that I approached it wasn't from the visual standpoint, but rather his perception of himself, how his appearance made him and other people feel.

Is Simon ugly? Are his scars hideous? Are they so grotesque he should cover his face at all times? Or, even, abstain from love at all costs?

I don't know. I don't care what he looks like. But that's what Simon believes himself to be, that's how he feels, and that defines his perception of the entire world, regardless of what the true visuals of his story actually are.

That's partially why I like the emotional type of writing instead of just visual description, because it doesn't really rely on any objective truth to convey a message. That....and I honestly just don't think about how things look that much lmao

Like, once a friend of mine asked me what my ideal boyfriend looked like and I legit couldn't answer her. Because like??? I don't have an ideal man. I've dated men from all different backgrounds, different heights, different weights, different styles---I just don't really care about someone's body. I care about the feeling they evoke in me.

Texas Red is a bit of a different game though, and there's a story reason for that. Basically, the basis of Jinx and Simon's relationship is physical attraction. It's not emotional in the beginning. Jinx feels weird about Simon, not because he's nice to her, but because she thinks he's hot lmao

All in all, I think I prioritize the emotional experience of it above all else, and that's about the only defining characteristic I can commit to when it comes to my writing lmao

And there you have it! A few tips on how I approached my own writing, as well as how you can improve your own! I hope you guys enjoyed my (completely unwarranted) gushing on the subject lmao

Thank you so much to the anon who sent the original request! I hope that this little guide helps you out!

Until next time!

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alicewritez · 1 year ago

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Everything Will Be Alright - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1012

summary: it’s obvious to hotch how down you’ve been feeling lately, he takes it upon himself to make sure you feel better

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: a little sad in places but ends happily. fluff. i’m only just getting back into writing so my apologies if there are any mistakes at all. also, maybe drop some ideas of what sort of plot/storyline you’d like to see next! 💕

"Wheels up in thirty."

Within thirty minutes the team were on the jet. Everyone else was sat together, but you were sat off to the side, at the back of the jet alone. You'd been having trouble sleeping recently; you were plagued by nightmares of a past case and, luckily, no one had picked up on them.. yet.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asked, walking over to you, sitting down as he eyed you carefully.

You pull your gaze away from the jet's window and turn to face him, offering him your best forced smile. "Hmm?.. oh yeah.. I'm fine." Hotch stared at your face. You looked so pale, eyes heavy and your smile was clearly forced. It was stupid to try and hide anything from Hotch - he knew everything. "You're not alright." He moved from where he was sat opposite you to directly next to you, looking down at you, his eyes softening further.

"You don't need to worry, I'm fine." You shrug. Hotch stared at you for a little while, he had a look of curiosity in his eyes with a touch of concern, wondering is he should continue with his questioning to get you to open up to him, or if he should change the subject entirely and leave it alone. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?" He finally decides to speak up after a moment of internal conflict.

"I've not had a great sleep pattern but it could be worse." You answer quietly with a small shrug.

Hotch moved his body slightly closer to yours, wanting you to know that he was there for you if you needed him. "What is keeping you up at night?" He asked, the concern becoming more prominent as he spoke, his eyes locked onto yours.

"I guess I just-" you sigh, "I guess I just don't feel good enough.. I never have done really." Hotch stayed silent for a second, taking a moment to consider what you had said. He could tell you had been carrying this burden; this feeling; for quite some time.

He put his his hand softly on your knee, squeezing it gently as a form of comfort. "Hey.." he stared into your eyes again, with a hint of sadness but comfort in them. He didn't want a world where you didn't think you were good enough. You were more than good enough. "Look at me- really look at me."

Your eyes flicked up to lock with his revealing your unshed tears as you took note of the concern written on his features. Hotch noticed that your eyes had teared up, and he moved his hand up to your face, slowly wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb. "It's okay.."

He looked at you, he had the same soft, comforting look on his face just like before. "You're good enough to me." He moved his hand to underneath your chin, keeping your gaze locked on his. Your lip trembled a little as the conviction of his words hit you - you were good enough in his eyes, that's all you needed to hear. "Thank you.." your voice failed you as you thanked him, your words coming out in an almost whisper. He saw your bottom lip trembled slightly, and he decided to ease the comfort into his words, and gently pulled you close to him. He held you close, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He then whispered again, so you could barely hear, but you heard clearly all the same. "You're more than good enough in my eyes." He kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand, before letting go. He looked at you one more time, but then he sighed. "You should try and sleep on the jet."

"What if I don't want to?" You challenge, mumbling into his chest.

Hotch laughed slightly and sighed. He was trying to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks, trying to bite back a wide smile. All he really wanted to do was hold you close to him, which he decided to do anyway, without hesitation. He moved his arm around your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer to him and holding you close. "Sleep on my chest then?" He asks, smirking as he said it.

You smile and decide to tease him. "How could I resist?" He chuckles as you tease him back, wrapping his arms fully around you. He squeezed you gently, but not too hard. He pulled you close so your body was fully leaning against him, your head firmly resting on his chest. He sighed, tilting his head down so he could see your face and so you would meet his gaze. When your eyes locked onto each others, he decided to whisper once more. "Sleep."

You scrunch your nose, you weren't making this easy for him. "But what if I want to stay up and talk with you?"

"I want you to sleep..." he sighed, but was finding it difficult to hide his smile. You were really making his heart beat quicker. "Please.." he looked at you, still with the same soft, comforting look in his eyes, as he asked.

You sigh. "Fine.." you shift until you're firmly resting against him, being overcome by the warmth his body was emanating.. "I love you.." you mumbled sleepily, not realising what you were saying as you fell asleep on his chest.

Hotch froze for a moment, he was surprised at what you'd just confessed, but he was happy at what you had said. He had to hold back his laugh at how cute you looked. When he realised you were asleep, his features softened further. He moved your hair out of your eyes and shifted a little so your face was resting against his chest comfortably as he gently stroked your cheek.

"I love you too.." He whispered, mostly to himself, still stroking your cheek, but you didn't notice, as you were already fast asleep laying against him.

But one thing was for certain, everything would be okay.. because you had Hotch.

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #fan fiction #fanfic #aaron hotch hotchner

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insomniac-rambling · 4 months ago

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I don't like Dark Choco's magic candy skill, so I'm gonna fix it

Before I can do that though, I need to explain the one we got. Dark Choco's current magic candy skill is called Downpour of Darkness, which is...fine. Aesthetically, we see Dark Choco raise his sword as it glows, before striking down and sending a wave of black and purple lightning. This is very similar to his base skill, the only difference being that instead of glowing red, the lightning glows purple. Likely as a reference to Dark Cacao.

This is a rather touching detail, as it gives a bit of attention to the main story in a subtle way. However I'm not sure how well it fits. While the Dark Choco of the main story has relinquished his sword, the one we have hasn't, it's tied to him permanently. So to reference him giving up the weapon he is currently using is...jarring. Rather, I think the magic candy should serve as a way to enhance the sword, which means I would keep the lightning red.

Onto mechanics, let's take a quick look at the skill's description.

Blades of darkness rain down on the enemies, dealing extra damage and inflicting them with a debuff increasing Darkness-type damage. The rest of the team will gain a buff increasing Darkness-type damage dealt.

The first part is just a straight up lie, in all the times I've seen Dark Choco's magic candy skill, I have never seen 'blades of darkness rain down on the enemies'. Unless it means the shards that fly off, but I doubt that. Back to the mechanics subject, this skill is...fine. Just fine. It's nothing special, in fact it's rather underwhelming, especially considering it's for one of my favorite cookies. I believe he deserves a better skill.

So here's what I would do.

The first change is the name, instead of Downpour of Darkness, I'm calling it Choking Darkness. To reference how stifled Dark Choco felt when he was fighting the sword's control, and lowkey failing. Aesthetically, I also want to make a reference to his description, specifically the part about dark clouds following him wherever he goes. Which implies he has a small amount of weather control, which is cool as fuck. At the start of the skill, when Dark Choco raises his sword, I want him to also summon black storm clouds. Which strike down on one specific enemy, while he still does the wave of lightning that damages all enemies. Ideally, this wave of lightning would also go on for slightly longer, being able to hit enemies who are further back.

Now, onto how the skill itself. Here is the new description.

Strikes the ground with his great sword, inflicting chain lightning upon the enemies. As well as summoning a dark cloud to strike the enemy with the highest amount of HP, inflicting Jamshed upon them. Deals a debuff increasing Darkness-type damage to all other enemies.

This is what Choking Darkness does. Dark Choco has a passive ability called Jamthirst, it doesn't activate until he activates his skill. When he does, he feeds on the enemy afflicted with Jamshed, which is a poison-like effect that drains their hp while healing Dark Choco, and only Dark Choco. Basically as if he's eating them to gain strength. It's dark, but so is wielding a weapon that in human terms is literally called The Blood Sword.

I'm hoping these changes would make this magic candy worthy for Dark Choco, he's been dealt a really bad hand by Devsisters likely. Part of me thinks that having him give up The Strawberry Jam Sword was a mistake, while I'm glad that he's happy now, I can't help but be upset that we haven't seen him since. Especially after we got baited in the trailer for Mystic Flour's update, and we only saw him once. And even then it wasn't him, just an illusion. There's a rewrite of the entire Mystic Flour story being created by @lexi-the-demon-69 which is planned to do him justice, I recommend checking it out. It's only got two chapters released so far, but I enjoyed reading it.

Regardless, the team could've done something to keep Dark Choco relevant. Either by having him remain an antagonist, or have him keep The SJS, and just not fight for Dark Enchantress anymore. Showing that while he has broken away from the toxic environment he was in, he's not completely free. Also it would give a chance to make the sword an actual character, and not just a plot device. It's implied to be sentient after all, or at least partially sentient.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #dark choco cookie #dark choco #dark choco crk #strawberry jam sword

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arlana-likes-to-write · 8 months ago

Text

Second Chance - Chapter 15

Masterlist

Warning: fluff with a mix of angst, mention of treatment, mention of death

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: a lot of this story is based on my own personal experience with the disease. As I've learned chemotherapy effects everyone very differently. The type of chemo the reader is on is based on her type of cancer but the treatment plan may not be 100% accurate. I'm no doctor but I am doing as much research as I can

Tony liked to wear masks, whether it be his Iron Man or the cocky Playboy or once upon a time behind a drink. He hated showing those around him how he was truly feeling. Partly, he blamed his upbringing. With his parents never around, he learned to box away his feelings and hide them. Things were different. He had Pepper, Morgan, and a team that felt like more of a family than Howard and Maria. Now there was you, a new addition to the mix but not an unwelcome one.

For once, he felt a little out of his element. With Morgan, he was there for the girl’s first steps, and although he missed her first words, Pepper sent him a video of it. Natasha made fun of him for crying, but he saw the tears that formed in the team’s eyes when his phone got passed around. But with you. He missed all of it. So when you declared that you weren’t going to use Morgan’s bone marrow to save your life, he couldn’t pull the ‘dad’ card. He was only your father for 2 weeks. There was no ground for him to stand on.

He sat in the meeting room while the rest of the team pilled in. They needed to know the change in your treatment plan. He caught Yelena’s eyes, and the blonde gave him a small smile. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact you were seeing Yelena. With everything going on, he needed a vacation. “So,” he said once Bucky sat down next to Natasha. “Her treatment is changing.”

He wasn’t sure if he told them the correct information. The intensity of the treatment dawned on everyone. It was still a 3-week cycle. Now, you would have a double dosage twice weekly for two weeks, then a week off. When Steve asked about a possible match, Tony gave a vague answer about still looking for one, but your doctor wanted to move forward before it was too late. It was your choice on how to tell the team the truth.

Thankfully, Yelena was there to fill in the blanks to the questions he wasn’t sure how to answer. No one seemed to bat an eye when she knew so much about your treatment plan.

Finally, the team began to leave. A heaviness filled the air, suffocating. Your ability to touch the lives of these people so quickly should be studied. A slight slap to his leg startled him out of his thoughts. “Belova, what do you want?” The blonde crossed her arms.

“I want you to say what is on your mind now that your daughter is not here,” she said. “I can take your shovel talk, Stark. I have faced bigger threats than you.” The man let out a dry laugh. It was funny, and she wasn’t wrong either. He knew only a fraction of the horrors Yelena and Natasha were subjected to. There was a lot he wanted to say - a conversation between the person dating his daughter that he thought he had more time to prepare for. Hell, Morgan was only 4.

But was it right for him to have a say in who you spent your time with? And this wasn’t someone random. This was Yelena, someone he knew long before you. He saw her grow into the person she is now.

“Why her?” he finally asked. “You could have anyone in the world, but you chose her after knowing her for less than a month.” Being an Avenger came with status and power. He knew it better than anyone. Tony watched Yelena’s face soften, and she let out a sigh. She sat in front of him.

“Before Natalia and I were taken to the Red Room, our mother told us to not let them take out hearts,” she played with a ring on her finger that had a turtle charm. It must be new since Tony had never seen it before. “I was not sure what she meant then, but now I do. Melina did not want our hearts to be darkened by the horrors we faced. It was the one thing we could control,” she sighed again. “Sometimes I question if my heart is still good but your daughter,” Yelena looked at Tony. “Her heart is still good even though the world tried to change it.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The sound of the elevator stopping pulled you out of sleep. You weren’t fully asleep; you were drifting between the two stages. Your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Tony. Morgan was still pressed to your side in a much deeper sleep than you. “Sorry, kid, I didn’t realize you were here.” You shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you whispered. “This one was getting tired.” Pushing the blame onto Morgan was easier than admitting you were tired. If you were tired, then that meant you weren’t feeling good, and you refused to worry them. The man frowned and sat next to you. It was easy to lean against him.

“It’s okay to be tired,” he said, fixing the beanie on your head. You were wearing it less around the team, but it felt comforting to wear it. It’s okay to rest.”

“I don’t want to be tired,” you answered.

“Why?” Such a simple question caused turmoil to race through your body. If you were tired, your body was being affected by the chemo.

“Are you okay with me and Yelena?” You changed the direction of the conversation. Tony sighed, crossed his left leg over his right, and looked at the TV. The end credits of Frozen 2 were playing, but the movie was muted. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep during the film.

“I don’t think I have a say in who you sleep with,” you managed to sit up more and move Morgan so she was leaning on the armrest of the couch.

“Why would you think that?” You frowned. “Your opinion matters to me.” Tony looked at you.

“It does?” He questioned. You nodded, and you saw him smile as he looked forward again. “Then she isn’t stupid enough to hurt you. I’d kick her ass,” you chuckled and kept to yourself that Yelena believed she would win that fight. Still, his words nagged at you.

“Why did you not think your opinion wasn’t important to me?” You nudged your shoulder against him when he was quiet for too long.

“I haven’t been in your life long enough to dictate what you do with it,” he said. “If you wanted to spend your free time with Yelena, who am I to stop you.”

“Tony,” you spoke slowly.

“It’s fine,” he managed a forced smile. It reminded you of the smile from the garage. “I have some work to do,” he stood up and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You felt like you received whiplash with the change and tone in conversation.

“Tony, wait,” you said quickly, following him to the dining room table. You suddenly felt lightheaded. “Woah,” you said and grabbed onto the table.

“Hey, hey,” Tony grabbed you by the shoulders and carefully helped you sit down. “Deep breaths for me, okay? Deep breaths.” Your head fell onto his shoulder, and he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You took a few deep breaths, and your head stopped spinning. You slumped back into the chair and saw Tony kneeling before you with a smile. “Better?” You nodded.

“You may not have been there while I grew up because Jessica didn’t give you the choice,” Tony’s smile flattered. “But you are here now when I need you. Your opinion matters, you matter. So thank you.”

“No need to thank me, butterfly. You’re my daughter,” you nodded and heard Morgan call your name from the couch. “I’ll get her.” He stood up and walked over to the couch. You were too far to hear what Tony was saying, so you focused on your breathing. The world wasn’t spinning as much, but your body felt sluggish.

You heard Morgan’s feet pattering as she ran towards you. You sat up straighter when she appeared in front of you. “Daddy said you need a special Morgan hug.” You smiled.

“Yeah, I need a big hug,” she climbed onto your lap and wrapped her arms around your neck. You held her against you and looked at Tony over her shoulder.

“All better?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you closed your eyes and fought the tears threatening to take over. “All better.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You loved traditions. There were so many between you and your mom. When the summer solstice came around, you would be camping to celebrate the summer kick-off. It was the best place to be, under the stars and a belly full of smores. For Christmas, you would ice skate on Christmas Eve and spend the morning at a local food shelter. Birthdays were kept small with a slice of cheesecake and one present. Those traditions died when she did. It hurts too much to continue them on your own.

Now, you were living with a new group, and they had their own set of traditions, which included the Young Avengers, as they were called, having dinner together. Since they were all horrible cooks, they decided on Chinese. Thankfully, they had soup options that wouldn’t upset your stomach. On any other day, you would offer to cook. Even when you tried to offer, it took a stern look from Yelena to keep your mouth shut. Besides, it would be unwise to stand in the kitchen when your entire body was laced with exhaustion.

It was frustrating. When your body craved sleep, but your mind and soul wanted this social interaction. Being trapped in your room while your friends were hanging out sounded dreadful. You never had FOMO. Sometimes, you need a night to recharge. Now, it was different. With this disease running rampant through your body, it was a clicking time bomb. Any moment could be your lost. So you fought through the exhaustion, ignored Yelena’s worried glances, and tried to stay in the present moment.

At first, it was easy; you laughed with your friends, told them stories about your life before them, and cuddled up against Yelena. She seemed to not care about the teasing remarks from Kate, America, or the winks MJ would send your way. All that mattered to her was that you were in her arms, but that was your downfall. Yelena was your portable heater. The heat that radiated off her soothed the ache in your body. It was bringing you closer to sleep than you would like.

You groaned and tried to shift away from Yelena. The blonde held you tighter to prevent your escape. “What’s wrong, detka?” She asked. “Am I too hot for you?” You rolled your eyes at her teasing remarks.

“No, I think you are not attractive at all,” you deadpanned and received a slight pinch to your side. “You are going to make me fall asleep.” Yelena frowned.

“Am I that boring?” You slapped her shoulder. She pretending to be hurt gave you time to move to the corner of the couch. The others were in the kitchen, cleaning up the leftover food and gathering snacks for the movie. Yelena quickly sat next to you again, offering space between you and her.

“If you are tired, get some sleep. We can do this another night.” Some of your friends in DC said you were brutally honest even when they wanted you to lie. You saw no point in lying to people that you cared about. It caused a few petty fights that lasted a few hours. You were like your mother in that aspect. She believed the truth; no matter how much it hurt, it was the best route.

You pushed some of Yelena’s hair behind her ear and kept your hand on her cheek. “I don’t know how many more nights I will have like this,” you whispered. “I want to join as many as I can.” Her green eyes softened, and she took your hand to kiss your palm.

Before she could respond, the others came back. Yelena placed her arm on the back of the couch and kissed the side of your head while you took the bowl of popcorn from MJ. You kept quiet while they discussed the movie to watch. Some random crime drama was put on and you relaxed into the couch.

While the opening credits were playing, you caught Yelena watching you. You took your eyes off the screen and looked at her. Quickly, she cupped your cheek and kissed you. She deepened the kiss and pulled away when Kate turned around to ask Yelena about the movie. She answered it perfectly as if her tongue wasn’t down your throat. “You are missing the movie,” she said.

“I am not sure how long I have, so I will never stop kissing you,” you smiled and kissed her cheek. You grabbed her arm, placed it over your shoulder, and leaned into her.

You weren’t the only one going through this, so depriving yourself of Yelena’s touch was depriving her, too. You weren’t alone. You had Yelena, Tony, Pepper, and all the Avengers. It was comforting yet terrifying.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yelena woke you up when the movie ended and returned to her room. Immediately, you fall back to sleep in the comfort of her bed and her arms around you. Suddenly, you woke up. Yelena separated herself from you. The cold air sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself up to cuddle beside her. It would wake her up, and she looked so peaceful while she slept. Her braid was coming undone from the constant tossing and turning. The blanket was at her waist, and her arms were under the pillow. Smiling, you carefully got out of bed. “Dekta,” you froze. You were sleeping next to a Black Widow, sneaking out of bed would be impossible.

“Just getting water,” you told her. “Go back to sleep.” Sleepy green eyes looked up at you.

“Promise you’ll come back,” you almost frowned. Instead, you walked over to her side of the bed and showed her your right pinky.

“Promise,” she looked at you confused. Her brain was still clouded with sleep. Slowly, she raised her hand and linked her pinky with yours. “Can’t break a pinky promise,” you smiled. “Especially if you kiss it.” You kissed your hand. Yelena dropped her hand and rolled her eyes.

“You are such a dork,” she mumbled and closed her eyes. You waited until she fell asleep and stood up. Deciding on getting water from the common floor, it was a good chance to stretch your legs. Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one there. Natasha sat at the dining room table with her laptop and a few files. The coffee mug she had was half full. You wondered how many times she refilled it. You filled two glasses of water in the kitchen and put in an electrolyte mixture. Once it was dissolved, you walked over to the redhead and placed it next to the coffee.

“It’s water with electrolyte mix,” you told her when she looked at it curiously. “You can’t survive on just coffee.” The woman scuffed but took a sip of the water. “What are you working on?” You sat on the opposite side of the table so you didn’t accidentally see what she was working on.

“Mission reports,” she answered and drank half of the water. You hid your smile behind your glass. “Just trying to get ahead.”

“I’m surprised Bucky let you out of bed,” Natasha laughed.

“I could say the same to you,” she said, glancing at you from above the report she was reading. “Does Yelena know you are wandering the tower at night?”

You wouldn’t call it wandering, but you knew what she meant. “Yes,” you said and traced the rim of the cup. “She knows I’m getting water, which isn’t a lie.” You finished your glass. While you sat silently as Natasha worked, your mind returned to the day Yelena planned for you. It seemed impossible to find something wrong. She let you ramble about animals, refused to make you feel bad when you walked about your mom, and made you feel safe. You only wanted to plan something that made her feel seen, too. Natasha seemed like the perfect person to ask. “I would say,” you spoke slowly. “You know Yelena pretty well.” The older Black Widow blinked at you and closed her laptop.

“I would hope so. She is my sister,” you rolled your eyes with a huff and leaned back in the chair. “What is on your mind?”

“I want to take her on a date before I start feeling unwell, but I’m not sure what to do,” you explained. So I want to ask the person who knows her the best.” You watched Natasha organize her workspace, carefully closing the files and making sure that the papers were inside and protected, then piled them on top of her laptop.

“Listen, I get that you are Stark’s kid, but that doesn’t protect you from me. Understand?” You nodded and kept your mouth shut. You knew she had more to say. “Yelena leaves her heart on her sleeve. It took a long time for her to trust people with it, and that trust was almost broken.” You figured she was talking to Yelena’s ex, the one who told her that her love language was something to be ashamed of. You wanted to ask more, but Natasha continued, “I see how you look at her. Your heart is good. She likes animals and dogs mostly. She has an American Akita with our parents back in Russia.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, stood up with her laptop under her arm, and grabbed her glass. You heard her cleaning the glasses. “Nat,” you followed her to the kitchen, and she took the glass from you to clean. “I like her a lot, and I will do everything in my power not to break her heart.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at you and scanned you up and down. “Even though you refuse treatment, that could keep you here with her.” The air was sucked out of your lungs. It felt like she injected ice into your veins. Frozen to your spot, all you could do was stare at her.

“It’s so much more complicated than that,” you whispered. She gave you a soft smile.

“I get it,” she said, placing her hand on yours. Carefully, Natasha intertwined her fingers with yours. “I probably get it more than anyone.” You frowned, unsure of what she meant. “Just be with her for as long as you can. That’s all I ask.”

With Natasha’s words echoing, you walked back to Yelena’s room. The blonde woke up as soon as you got close to the bed. “Sorry,” you said as you climbed in next to her. Without saying anything, she pulled you close to her chest. Your head fell against her shoulder, and her heartbeat mixed with yours. It felt impossible to separate the two.

“Are you okay?” She mumbled. You nodded and burrowed your head into her shoulder.

“Can I put my hand under your shirt?” Her voice was soft when she said, ‘Yes’. You put your hand underneath her shirt and felt her breath hitch when she placed your hand over her heart. A shiver went down her body, you knew your hand was cold compared to her natural body temperature. “I used to do this with my mom,” you told her. When you were younger, you would place your hand above her shirt. “Her heartbeat always calmed me down.” Yelena used her free hand to pull your head out of her shoulders. You were looking up at her.

“Is there a reason you need to calm down?” She asked. You shook your head.

“No,” you whispered. “It’s just a nice reminder that you are here.” Yelena smiled. It was supposed to comfort you, but it broke your heart.

“I am here. I am not going anywhere.” She kissed you softly. Your body slumped against hers as you lost yourself in the feeling of her lips on yours. Still, Natasha’s words ran through your mind. You were the one who may leave.

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848,

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belove x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x y/n stark #second chace

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pascaloverx · 8 months ago

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Moonlight

Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?

Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. This chapter contains adult content. Minors should not interact with or read this story.

NINE ELEVEN

TEN (+18)

Despite the kiss you and Edward shared, nothing has been rekindled between the two of you. Things feel strange, as if neither of you wants to take the next step. Honestly, you believe it's better this way—for things to move slowly, almost as if both of you are afraid of belonging to one another. Meanwhile, you're now living in your late parents' old house, giving the Black family a break.

"You know you didn’t have to move back into your old house just to get away from me? I can respect someone's personal space," Jacob says, holding one of the many boxes containing your belongings as he helps you settle into the house where you’ll be staying now. He assisted you with the entire move, even driving back to the city where you lived before coming to Forks to collect some furniture and appliances. Plus, you put your old place up for rent, deciding to stay in Forks. Fortunately, with your job, you can work remotely. So now you’re officially a resident of Forks. And Jacob is being dramatic; you’ll only be a few kilometers away from him, since your old home in Forks is near where Jacob lives.

"What I know is that I need privacy, and you need a social life. You were so determined to take care of me that you started neglecting yourself, Jake. You even let your beard grow. I love you, but facial hair and you just don’t mix. It was like a sign that we needed some boundaries in our relationship. And you can visit me whenever you want." You say, closing the car door while holding the last moving box in your hands.

Jacob laughs, genuinely, as he begins helping you unpack the remaining boxes. "I know I won’t convince you not to live in this house alone, so promise me that at the slightest hint of danger, you’ll call me. Victoria could still be out there, your safety is the highest…" Jacob starts to say, while pulling some books out of the box he's unpacking. You finish his sentence with, "Priority, I know," giving him a kiss on the cheek right after.

"How is your relationship with Bella Swan going?" you ask, trying to make conversation, though your curiosity is undeniable. Jacob has been secretive about anything that might upset him.

"She's not over Cullen. In fact, I don't think she will be any time soon," Jacob admits, his voice calm but carrying a hint of resignation. "I've decided to stop trying to be there for her romantically."

"I wouldn’t give up on Bella so easily. I mean, I don’t know her that well, but I can tell we have similar taste in romantic partners. So, I wouldn’t lose hope. It’s complicated to get over a love, but it doesn’t mean she’ll never be available again. Just give it time. But, to change the subject—how about I cook for us?" you say with a smile, almost certain Jacob remembers the last time you were in charge of the meal. It wasn’t your finest moment in the kitchen, and by the look on his face, he definitely remembers.

"You don’t need to bother. I’ve got to head home anyway—there’s a small pack waiting for me. And… I think I should give you some privacy," Jacob says, glancing toward the half-open door. You turn around and see Edward standing there. You hadn’t expected him to come, not while things between you two are so uncertain, and certainly not while you’re moving into your parents’ old house—a place where vampires were far from welcome.

"You don't have to go," you say, more as an attempt to keep Jacob around as a buffer between you and Edward than anything else. Jacob shakes his head, as if he sees right through you, aware that you're trying to avoid yet another pointless conversation with Edward.

"Some love stories are easier to solve than others. Take care, and call me if you need anything," Jacob says, kissing your forehead in farewell before walking away. As he passes Edward, they exchange a brief look but say nothing to each other. Jacob shifts into his wolf form and disappears into the woods, leaving you standing there, staring at Edward. You open the door to your house wider, stepping outside to the top of the stairs. Edward stops at the bottom of the steps, his gaze locked on yours. The distance between you feels both too far and too close.

"Uncertainty is the home of misunderstandings. For as long as I can remember, my life has been surrounded by it. Our entire relationship is uncertain, from the very beginning to this moment, nothing is ever one hundred percent clear. But I'm tired. I could live for eternity, and yet the wait for you to finally give in, to come looking for me, nearly destroyed me. One kiss, and you were satisfied? You want nothing more from me?" Edward's voice rises, sharp and clear, as if anger or perhaps frustration had finally taken hold of him. You can feel the weight of his words, each one filled with an emotion that stirs something deep within you.

"You shouldn't be here," you say, your voice barely holding steady, almost as if you're weakening under the weight of his presence. His gaze pierces through you, reaching deep into your soul, and it's as if you've lost control of yourself. Every instinct inside you screams that holding onto the idea of Edward as the man for you is foolish. Yet, as he looks at you—like you are the center of his universe—something inside you whispers to let go, to surrender to what you've fought so hard to deny. The struggle within you intensifies, caught between what you think you should do and what your heart wants to do.

“We've been at this for a long time. So why do we always seem to want more from each other?" you ask, your voice filled with disbelief that after everything, you're still drawn to Edward.

"There’s never enough time for us. What you don’t understand," he begins, stepping closer, his words laced with quiet intensity, "is that I’ve waited my entire existence to feel complete. And the only time I don’t feel hollow, when I’m not haunted by the emptiness, is when I’m with you. You consume me day and night. For everything that is sacred, I could spend eternity just looking at you, and it still wouldn’t be enough."

You inhale deeply, his words pulling at the feelings you’ve tried to bury. "The way you talk, it always sounds like you forget Bella exists. But I know… I know you felt something real for her," you say, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

A tense silence falls between you, and Edward’s expression hardens slightly, though his gaze never wavers. "She'll always be a part of me. Is that what you want to hear?" he asks, his voice steady. "I won’t deny the truth to you. But you… you are in me. When you’re gone, I feel lost, wondering where you are. And when I’m with you, no distance, no closeness is ever enough. If you asked it of me, I’d burn the world down for you, just to stand in the flames beside you."

His voice drops, as if the weight of his confession has been too long held inside. "You make me yours without even trying. And I’m tired of explaining it. Every part of me belongs to you. So why don’t you claim me? Why don’t you take me for yourself?"

"I'm scared, Edward," you finally confess, as if releasing a heavy burden from your conscience. A wave of relief washes over your mind as the words leave your lips. He steps closer, without hesitation, until he's standing right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, as though he's trying to understand every fragment of your fear. Without saying a word, Edward lifts his hand, and with an almost incomprehensible gentleness, wipes away the tears that fall involuntarily from your face. His touch is tender, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink, leaving just the two of you in this fragile yet profound intimacy.

"Share your fear with me," Edward says softly, holding your hands and kissing them gently as he looks into your eyes. "Don't bear any of these feelings alone—that's what I mean. I want you to understand. I want to be the person you share your burdens with. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice tender and sincere. For a moment, you avoid meeting his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. But then, slowly, you nod in agreement, signaling that you're ready to try, even if it scares you.

"Do you want to come in?" you ask softly, moving closer to Edward, closing your eyes as your lips hover near his, gentle but deliberate. There's no kiss yet, but it feels like you're inviting him, offering a moment that could lead to so much more. Entering the house becomes more than just stepping inside—it’s an invitation to enter your life fully, to claim a place in your heart, soul, and body. A quiet, profound offering of everything you are.

"I want to," he whispers against your lips, claiming them instantly. At first, his lips draw yours in as if there were honey on his mouth, his tongue exploring yours and taking control of the kiss. You hold onto his hair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, only to be surprised as he presses your body against the closed door of your house.

"We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to…" he murmurs, breaking the kiss for a moment. You smile, finding it amusing that you both seem like teenagers again.

"I want to claim what is mine," you respond, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer to you with one hand while you open the door with the other.

Your hands start to grip Edward's back, while your lips were so close together that you seemed to almost be one. "I'm yours, forever if you want," he said as you kissed him. Without delay, you took off his shirt, almost in an animalistic way. Your hands running over his chest as you kiss him.

"I'm yours too. At least for this moment, we belong to each other," you then feel him come at you. He uses his vampiric speed and practically throws you against the wall, with a force almost capable of breaking it. You smile, even liking this dominant side of him, as you remove your own clothes.

"Promise me you won't regret this moment tomorrow?" Edward says as he rips his pants off his body as if he was desperate. You kiss him, a calmer kiss as if you wanted to affirm something to him.

"I promise you, I won't regret it. Now, my sweet vampire, there's a room upstairs where I'd like to feast on your cock as soon as possible." You say teasingly, giving him a little kiss and he takes you in his arms, wrapping your body around his. The next moment you feel your body along with Edward's cross the bedroom door. The bastard didn't even try to open the door, he just used his strength to push the two of you through it. "I hope you know you're going to pay me to fix this door," you whisper close to his ear as he holds you.

"It'll be worth every penny," he replies and then throws your body on the bed. Not with the same force he used to break the door but luckily you're a wolf. It has the capacity to withstand all his strength, and more. When he leans down to kiss you, you grab his hair back tightly. He holds both of your legs, lifting them a little and spreading them. You can feel your pussy getting wet as you feel Edward's fingers trail up your leg to your thigh, close to your pussy.

"I missed feeling you like this," Edward whispers softly against your neck as his fingers stimulate your wet pussy, making you moan softly. "So ready for me," he says as he puts two fingers inside you, stimulating you. You arch your body, feeling him put his fingers deeper and deeper inside you, accurately. Your moans could be heard as Edward focused on kissing your neck, passionately. You wrap your legs around his waist.

"Fuck me, please..." You beg as you feel like you're going to cum on Edward's fingers at any moment. His eyes lock on you and he pulls his fingers out of you. He kisses you hard, urgently as if he needs to taste your lips to continue. Then he completely removes his underwear and stuck his dick in you. At first his thrusts were very slow as if he was afraid of hurting you. "Edward, you don't have to control yourself," you mumble honestly as you're about to get frustrated, thankfully being heard when Edward finally buries his cock inside you. Without much to say, he thrusts one thrust after another inside you; take it slow. As his cock fills you, he keeps his hands busy holding your legs tightly to keep them open.

"You're delicious, darling. We should spend more time apart if we're always going to end up like this." Edward whispers in your ear as he thrusts into you again, and you are completely lost between feeling him penetrating you and the moans you are letting out. When you feel like you are going to cum, you grab him, digging your nails deep into his back. In a moment he kisses your mouth, sucking your tongue and holding your legs tight as he cums deep inside you. Then you melt with him still inside you, while you and he become a mixture of pleasure, sweat and marks on your body.

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bqu1nns · 1 year ago

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intermittently - brian q.

my first fan fic ever!! [clap] [clap] in this fanfic, brian is a minor, 16-17 years old???? and the reader is a minor as well so no freaky stuff!!! leave comments on how i can improve PLEASEEE i love ya bye bye !

word count : 713

january 29th 1992

“i think i love you”, brian says to you, as the confession echoes through the late winter air. his words are pouring out more than he would have hoped. his gaze remained focused on your eyes only, observing your reaction with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty.

he is certainly not the type of highschool teenager to get all shy and nervous around other people but whenever he was around you, brian's demeanor shifted in your presence. he became a gentle and caring soul, a stark contrast to his usual self. from the first day you stepped into high school, he took it upon himself to ensure your well-being, guiding you through the hallways and making sure you found your classes.

the place of confession, in all honesty, isn't ideal. but, it does hold sentimental value – just right outside the back doors of your highschool that had witnessed countless moments between the two of you. from accidental hand touches in the cafeteria line, exchanging silly faces in the hallway and sharing lunches by the football field, this place held a trove of shared memories.

you always thought to yourself that it was impossible to ever get bored of him. brian had a knack of turning uncomfortable moments into wholesome jokes, gently caressing your shoulder in hopes of making you feel better. everytime he leaves those innocent touches against your skin, you can't help but blush, trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.

with the help of the cold january breeze nipping against your neck, you snap back to reality. the very boy that you've liked for a year just said the words that you've spent nights fantasizing and giggling against your pillow about. the soft wind tousled his soft brown hair, revealing his furrowed eyebrows, still awaiting for an answer while you were daydreaming.

a subtle tension lingers in the air between the two of you, like a red string tied to the both of you. brian senses that you felt contemplated in the moment, took a step back, and let you figure out what you were going to say next. he places his hands over his face in complete embarrassment, letting out a nervous laugh and says, “look, i didn't mean to put you on the spot or anything. i just wanted to let you know how i feel for you since i've been sensing some things have changed between the two of us.”

god! hes sickeningly sweet.

“i.. i never would have expected this,” you say, trying to control your heart from jumping out of your chest. you finally look up to brian to see how beautiful he looks. the winter sun had casted a soft glow on his face, accentuating the sincerity of his brown eyes.

i wanna kiss him. badly.

brian, who can't stop smiling, stood in front of you, softly brushing the hair from your face with his fingers. his hands then moved down to your jacket, anxiously playing with the zipper. the awkward silence was filled with unspoken emotions.

“you know, brian,” you begin softly, “this might sound crazy but, i've been trying to muster those words for the longest time myself.” his lips part gently, waiting to hear what you’ll say next.

“i love you,” you confessed. his eyes, wide with surprise and joy, met yours, and the entire atmosphere shifted. brian’s mittens, warm against your gentle skin, cupped your cheek. “i've been waiting to hear those words for so long,” brian whispered against your forehead, pressing a kiss against it.

a moment of hesitation flows through the both of you as your bodies are close against one another. everything is silent except for the sound of the two sounds of breathing and giggles leaving the both of you. he leans in closer to your face, merely inches away. without any needed words, both of your lips met in a kiss.

you finally feel the lips you've been wanting to kiss ever since the day he lended you his coat when you were feeling a “bit cold”. since the day he held you gently in his arms as you cried in his arms. since the day he “accidentally” kissed your cheek when you accomplished something that you've been wanting.

since forever.

#brian quinn #impractical jokers #brian quinn x reader #brian quinn x female reader #brian quinn x female oc #impractical jokers fanfiction #joe gatto #james murray #sal vulcano #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #should i post this on ao3?#my writing<3 #tell em steve dave #podcast #kevin smith #clerks

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kremblor · 2 months ago

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And now I want to talk about a couple things about Hetty and the ghosts as a whole when it comes to things. Because like .... while Hetty may not come out and say things blatantly. Nor does the show give the ghosts big blatant obvious moments of protecting her ... we get the subtle things of them caring and I think that does a lot for her. There is a reason that I personally HC that she started to lower the thick walls of protection she built around herself AFTER Alberta died and even then kept the walls up for specific reasons. Anyways, I have two moments I specifically want to mention. And both have to do with her education. First is something I've already seen on here a lot. When she comes strolling in all "that cost 6" with the raven during the yard sale and then episodes later is all "quarter wits" when Flower outsmarts her and Trevor. She made it clear to everyone that she wasn't taught math. And here she is in less than a year comprehending how to do a fraction even if just for a joke. It's clear someone - or multiple someones and I honestly suspect its multiple - is teaching her. (I wouldn't be surprised to find out there is a little ghost classroom where she gets to sit and learn things she never learned before and others join in on things they want to learn when not teaching - Sam and Jay frequently in the room as teacher or student as well. Jay there as student like "um ... Sam ... I dont know whats being taught?")

The other scene ... and this one sits with me a lot. Because it tells us so much. Is the contract scene. And I am still so annoyed and will forever be annoyed that she signed the contract (as I fear it will come back to haunt all of them). The moment Elias held that document out to her, insisting upon her signing it telling her what it was. His "oh its just a simply" tone of voice and the look on her face. That distrust but also "Its Elias, he's my husband" face (the obedient wife slipping back in). It's that singular moment when Isaac threw his hand out, grabbed the contract, and insisted on the fact he HAD to read it before she dared touch it.

Now, even if she has been taught her letters and how to read .... there is no way she has been taught how to read contracts and legal documents. Not when her father is clearly manipulative nor would her manipulative husband likely allow her to learn how to understand contracts and legal documents. The moment she does, is the moment she would be able to work out what she is fully agreeing to after all. The idea is to make her have to ask after she looks it over "what exactly does this mean?" so that THEY get to tell her what they want. Isaac taking the document and reading it negates that ability, the thing is he doesn't actually tell her. He just says its fine. The episode goes on to imply its a simple forgiveness contract, which will allow him to stay. He returns so easily though and continues his way that like ... I wouldn't be surprised if this came back (it also easily could remain closed). Either way, my point is simply that like ... the ghost stepping up when its clear she has a lack of understanding in a subject is honestly so deeply sweet and caring. Even if its not blatantly in our faces its right there. Its a protective thing she never got before that tells her she is cared for and heard. We see how it changes things for her (Alberta explaining voting history to her bringing her to vote for Alberta for example) and makes her soften a bit from the hurt individual who hasn't had anyone to turn to in centuries. I just ... if the next season isnt her protecting those she cares about even if she is struggling and falling back into old habits I might just fall apart.

#hetty woodstone #cbs ghosts #no because they taught her math #alberta taught her that voting is important #isaac really reached out and grabbed that contract like no signing without representation #this is a woman who had no one one her side and no she has a whole little army behind her #and i love that for her

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professional-spectator · 3 months ago

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Hey there, it's IDK! I usually stick to writing in the third person, but I thought I'd try something a little different this time. If you want to imagine yourself as the reader, go right ahead! Though, fair warning, I've never been the best at those kinds of stories, haha.

The character in this story is someone I came up with, an OC who's in their mid-twenties. They're a total fangirl at heart, can be a bit of a crybaby, and sometimes struggle with self-doubt. They actually have a name, but they can't quite remember it—there's a reason for that, which you'll discover later on when they get a new one.

I'm a huge Cyno fan and proudly main him in the game, so of course, he's going to be a part of this story! I absolutely love Sumeru, and I feel like there aren't enough fanfics set there, especially ones that focus on Cyno. I'm still deciding whether to make this a series, so please let me know what you think!

Okay, here's the little disclaimer and a heads-up: I don't own Hoyoverse, Genshin Impact, or anything related to them.

And a big thank you to @arn9tails letting me use their Genshin size difference AU as the basis for this fanfic. The idea that Teyvat isn't scaled to Earth but is actually much, much larger really fascinated me—it's a pretty scary thought, isn't it? I also really liked the idea that people from Earth aren't resistant to it, which is what sparked this whole thing.

Also, just a quick heads-up: this story touches on some serious and sensitive subjects. It's inspired by SAGAU (Self-Aware Genshin Impact Alternative Universe), isekai themes, different isekai worlds, creation myths, and fanfiction in general.

Alright, let's dive into chapter 2 and see what adventures await our dear Oc!

Chapter 2 Mao:

The air inside Dori's counting house was dense, saturated with the aroma of mora. Surrounded by imposing stacks of chests, she meticulously calculated her earnings. Each rhythmic clink of gold coins served as a victorious anthem to her prosperity. Despite her small size, Dori commanded significant influence in the world of trade, her mind constantly devising plans for even greater wealth.

Her most recent endeavor involved the trade of "Mini Humans." These beings, barely a third the size of a typical Teyvatian maybe less, they had a unique susceptibility that Dori readily took advantage of. She quickly discovered that Teyvat's natural magic overwhelmed them. Upon entering this world, their minds became clouded, making them easily manipulated. Clearly originating from beyond Teyvat, their inability to resist made them... versatile. A particular chemical compound guaranteed the compliance of even the strongest among them. After all, they were undeniably attractive companions, and the temptation to profit from their unique qualities was too strong to resist.

As expected, Dori's business practices were not always entirely above board. Her involvement in the black market had drawn unwanted attention from the Matra. To minimize the risk, she implemented strict screening protocols, protecting herself, her staff, and her customers from potential consequences.

While owning "Mini Humans" was technically against the law in Sumeru, it posed a relatively small problem. However, transporting them presented a different issue. As long as the paperwork was in order, the transportation remained perfectly legal.

A knock on the door interrupted her concentration. "Ma'am..." It was one of her servants, his voice tinged with worry.

"The bulk of the merchandise has been successfully delivered to Liyue. However, one of the Mini Humans seems to have been lost somewhere in the desert..."

Dori sighed, a brief flash of irritation crossing her face. "What a shame," she muttered, more to herself than to her servant. "It wouldn't last long out there... Oh well, there's no point in worrying about it..." After all, they were expendable.

Elsewhere in Teyvat.............

I poked his ridiculous, giant iron-clad abs with my uninjured arm. "Hey!" I yelled, but he didn't even react.

Here I was, completely stuck. Trapped in my own private Cyno-pocket prison, nestled within the folds of his absurd jackal cloak. It was a situation I never could have conceived of, not even in my most outlandish fantasies.

"Let me out..." I kicked him, a feeble attempt to free myself, but he remained unresponsive. From what I could gather, he had been walking for miles, completely oblivious to my predicament. A knot of panic began to form in my stomach. It felt like only a short while ago I was at an anime convention with my two best friends, laughing and having a great time. Then, in an instant, we were transported to Teyvat, a fictional world brought to life, where everyone was a giant. I recalled the disorienting fall, being essentially abandoned, and then the unexpected rescue by Cyno, which had only led to this – being stuck, utterly and completely stuck, in his pocket.

"Let me out!!!!!!" I screamed, my voice echoing faintly within the confines of the cloak.

I thrashed, a desperate attempt to escape the confines of Cyno's pocket, freedom seeming so close. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought I'd made it, tumbling down the folds of his cloak. But then, his hand, quick and sure, caught me.

"Behave..." The word rumbled from him, a deep, resonant sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I swallowed hard, my gaze drawn to his face. The anger etched there was unmistakable, a silent warning. All I could manage was a quick, submissive nod.

The predicament was absurd, utterly unbelievable. Yet, there I was, inexplicably trapped. Hours crawled by, each one a testament to my bizarre reality: I was stuck inside the pocket of my fictional husbando. But this wasn't the Cyno of my imagination, the one I had jokingly vowed to marry should the opportunity ever arise. No, this was a nightmare version, and my carefully constructed dreams were now crumbling around me like ancient ruins.

Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I fought it back, clinging to the fragile thread of hope that this was all a dream. It had to be, right? I could hear Cyno's voice, muffled and distant, as he spoke to someone. The sound was strangely comforting, yet it did little to alleviate the growing dread that gnawed at my insides. My mind, however, was a million miles away, lost in a desperate search for an explanation, an escape, anything to break free from this surreal prison..

Without warning, the world tilted on its axis. One moment I was standing, the next I was being hoisted into the air by the back of my ridiculous Soul Society cosplay robe.

"Yes, this is exactly what I need you to look at," Cyno's voice boomed, a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very air around us.

"I think its arm is badly broken..."

A new voice, laced with curiosity, broke in. "A miniature human? I've never seen one before. Why didn't you bring it to the Akademiya?"

I recognized that voice. It was Tighnari.

Tighnari. Even hanging upside down, swaying like a pendulum, I couldn't help but appreciate his striking appearance. His pale skin, the chin-length dark green hair with black roots and light green streaks framing his face, and those light eyes that seemed to shift between shades of brown and green. And, of course, the large, pointed black ears and the fluffy tail with its two-toned dark green. Under different circumstances, I might have been completely mesmerized, but dangling between the Matra's fingers wasn't the best way to show my appreciation.

"Hey! A little warning next time would be nice..." I managed to croak out, my voice strained as I stared down at the table, which seemed miles away.

"This one speaks?" Tighnari commented, his tone more clinical observation than actual surprise, as if I were some newly discovered insect.

"Hey!" I snapped, the word sharper than I intended. I was tired, hungry, and now, thoroughly annoyed.

"Look at me! I'm not some creature. I'm a human being, and I demand to be treated like one..." My voice, though small, held a surprising amount of anger.

My remark, sharp as it was, did little to dissuade Cyno. He simply deposited me into the waiting hands of Tighnari.

"It's not mimicking? Hmmm," Tighnari muttered, his brow furrowed in thought as he examined me. "I was under the impression that mini-humans aren't intelligent enough to be self-aware or possess abstract or conscious thought." I found myself unceremoniously placed on a table, becoming the subject of their detached scientific discussion, as if I were some fascinating, albeit inanimate, specimen. A rather undignified position, to say the least.

"Hey!!!!" I screamed, my voice a tiny rebellion against their clinical observation.

Tighnari, his voice a soft melody of apology, gently set me down on the table. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend..." he murmured, his words doing little to soothe the raw feeling of exposure that washed over me. I felt like an object, placed on display for all to see, and resentment began to simmer within. I clung desperately to the tattered remnants of my dignity as Cyno stood nearby, a silent sentinel with arms crossed, his gaze scrutinizing me with unnerving intensity.

"Look! What the hell is going on?!" I screamed, the sound echoing in the suddenly cavernous space. I was inexplicably transported into the vibrant world of my favorite game, a world now distorted by the fact that everyone, for some unfathomable reason, towered over me like giants. The dread was a cold hand squeezing my heart. I felt possibly sold, commodified, and now taken by my favorite characters, who seemed to be regarding me first as an animal, then as a person.

Tighnari, the playable Dendro character, was every bit as capable as his in-game persona suggested. He carried himself with the stern authority of the Chief Officer of the Forest Rangers, the same authority he used as Collei's mentor. Despite his sharp intellect, he always preferred the solitude of Avidya Forest to the stuffy academic circles of Sumeru Akademiya. Now, he exchanged a knowing glance with Cyno, a silent communication passing between them.

"Hello," Tighnari finally said, his tone softening, becoming almost gentle. "I'm Tighnari, Forest Watcher of Avidya Forest. My duty is to protect the rainforest's ecosystem and ensure the safety of its visitors and the animals that live here. I assure you, I meant no offense. You clearly have a story to tell. Perhaps you could start with your name? What is your name?"

I opened my mouth to answer, to offer some explanation for this bizarre predicament, but the words caught in my throat. A chilling realization washed over me, cold and paralyzing. I couldn't remember my name. The memories of my past were intact, vivid and clear, but the simple identifier, the word that defined me, had vanished into the ether.

"I can't remember..." I stammered, the words barely a whisper, panic clawing its way up my throat.

Tighnari's emerald gaze locked onto mine, his magnificent, verdant tail swaying gently behind him, its size holding me spellbound. "Hmm?" he inquired, finally breaking the heavy silence. "You've lost your name? That is indeed a precarious predicament."

He reached out a gloved hand, presumably to assess me for injuries. Yet, despite his benevolent intentions, the gesture triggered a surge of anxiety within me. I flinched, instinctively swatting his hand away in a fit of panic.

"Don't touch me..." I mumbled, my patience wearing thin. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cyno, ever stoic, seemingly plotting something, though his intentions remained unclear. I scrambled backward, desperate to put distance between myself and Tighnari, only to stumble over a wet cloth. Before I could regain my balance, Cyno swiftly and unsettlingly restrained me, pressing the large cloth firmly over my nose. The world began to spin, the edges blurring as darkness consumed me. Their escalating argument was the last thing I registered before succumbing to unconsciousness.

"What the hell, Cyno?" Tighnari's voice, laced with sharp disapproval, cut through the haze.

"It was being difficult," Cyno retorted, his tone suggesting a genuine, albeit misguided, belief that he was being helpful.

"It's obvious this person is distressed. That's not how you approach the situation..." Tighnari sighed, his frustration palpable.

A wave of grogginess washed over me as I surfaced from sleep, the unpleasant sensation compounded by the realization that I was drooling. A familiar throbbing had taken root in my head. As my eyes fluttered open, I noticed something else amiss: my clothes. They had been changed. Looking down, I found myself adorned in a distinctly Sumerian style. It seemed I was still trapped in this bizarre, giant-sized version of Teyvat. A glance at my left arm revealed it was swathed in bandages and encased in a cast. Looking at nearby hand mirror which seem huge to me, I examined my reflection. "Great," I muttered, my voice laced with sarcasm, "I look like Sumeru Barbie."

From nearby, the murmur of voices drew my attention. Cyno and Tighnari were deep in conversation.

"You want to open an investigation? I agree; I've found the trade of these 'Mini Humans' to be quite strange. This one is either in its normal state or is abnormal..." Tighnari's voice echoed, each word a hammer blow to my fraying sanity.

"I'm not abnormal!" I exclaimed, the words bursting from my lips before I could stop them, feeling completely overwhelmed. The full weight of the situation crashed down upon me: just hours, or perhaps days, ago, I had been attending an anime convention, blissfully unaware that I was about to be kidnapped and brought to this giant version of Teyvat.

"You're abnormal!" I retorted, the accusation perhaps lacking force given the circumstances, but born of pure, unadulterated panic.

Tighnari wasn't angry, not exactly. He prided himself on his patience, but the crossed arms suggested it was dwindling as he assessed the scene before him. "I realize you're frightened and upset," he said, his tone conciliatory as he gestured calmly, hoping to ease the mounting tension.

"You're damn right I am!" I shot back, consumed by fury. I likely resembled an irate kitten, flushed and puffed up, one hand balled into a tight fist. All I wanted were answers, but my threats were proving useless, especially with Cyno standing nearby like a silent, gathering storm. He seized the back of my collar and lifted me as if I were a misbehaving feline. I didn't dare meet his gaze, paralyzed by the deep resonance of his voice.

"Finished?"

Fear washed over me, and my body went completely still, the fight completely gone.

Tighnari's ears twitched, a telltale sign of his annoyance. "Cyno, really..." He looked utterly weary. "You can't simply intimidate her into compliance."

Cyno appeared genuinely perplexed, cocking his head slightly. I honestly don't believe he understood how frightening he seemed. "Oh? Am I?" he questioned, his voice still a low rumble.

I stared at him, wondering if he was truly this unaware. Before I could answer, he released me, the unexpected drop sending me tumbling onto the table with a loud crash. I screamed, more startled than hurt.

"Oww..." I yelped, clutching my injury arm where it had struck the table.

"Sorry..." Cyno mumbled, his voice still lacking inflection, although I thought I glimpsed a hint of something in his eyes. Tighnari, however, looked as though he'd reached his limit, as if he were imagining a long escape to a distant land too.

A sharp pain flared through my arm as I gripped it, my eyes lifting to meet the towering figures before me. "I'm alright..." I managed to croak, the words sounding weak even to myself. Cyno and Tighnari, characters ripped straight from the screen of my favorite game, stood before me like immense statues.

Summoning what little bravery I could muster, I stood my ground and demanded, "I want some answers."

"Why are you both so huge? And why are you talking about me as if I can't understand you? I'm not stupid," I pressed, my voice wavering slightly despite my attempts to remain composed.

Tighnari hummed softly, his hands coming together thoughtfully as he frowned. Then, Cyno's serious voice broke the silence.

"We are not large; you are simply small. According to Tighnari's analysis, you don't seem to be under any magical influence, nor is there any sign that you have been altered in any way," he declared, his red eyes fixed on me.

Tighnari nodded, his pointed ears flicking. "That's right. Based on the data I've gathered, I can only deduce that this is your normal height," he confirmed, his gaze intense.

I wouldn't consider myself a genius, but I had always assumed that if Teyvat were real, it would be similar to Earth—the same size, a planet in space within the habitable zone. Clearly, I was dead wrong. I hadn't been shrunk or anything like that. I was still me; it was just that Teyvat was a much larger planet, a land of literal giants.

"Huhhh!" I gasped, the sound escaping my lips in stunned disbelief. The sheer magnitude of it all was overwhelming, my mind struggling to grasp the implications.

I squeezed my eyes shut, a knot tightening in my stomach. "Wait!" I blurted, my voice barely audible. "Are you saying this is your normal size?"

I pinched myself again, desperately hoping it was all a strange dream. The sharp sting, however, only confirmed the unbelievable truth: I was awake. Earth, and apparently Teyvat—the world from my favorite game weren't to scale. The realization hit me with alarming clarity: all the Genshin playable characters, the NPCs, even the creatures, were enormous. I was the size of a doll in their world.

A fresh wave of questions washed over me. "Wait," I stammered, my voice trembling slightly. "Earlier, you seemed surprised that I could talk. Why?" I was genuinely afraid to ask, but Cyno, his towering form looming above me, answered regardless.

"From my understanding," he said, his voice deep and resonant, "your kind is nonverbal. You're more akin to animals than people."

His words sent my mind reeling. The giant treasure hoarders at the anime convention, being herded into a pen, Dori's unnerving examination... A horrifying truth began to dawn on me. Humans from my reality were being abducted from Earth and brought here as... I didn't want to consider it, but the implication was clear. As pets. The thought sickened me, a wave of nausea rising within me.

The wave of nausea preceded the onslaught of memories, threatening to overwhelm me. It had been barely two weeks since my impulsive wish to bring Teyvat to life, driven by a longing to see Cyno and my other favorite characters in reality. But, as often happens with wishes, the outcome was distorted. I found myself reduced to the size of a doll, a mere plaything in a world of giants, with Cyno and Tighnari towering over me like ancient deities.

My voice, a faint squeak, trembled as I managed to ask, "How… how are people of… my size typically regarded here?"

Tighnari and Cyno exchanged a look, a silent exchange I couldn't interpret.

"They're treated no differently than a cat or dog… supposedly easier to manage. At least, that's what I've heard from merchants traveling from outside Sumeru," Tighnari finally replied, his gaze unwavering and unsettling. "I've also observed that you possess some, though minimal, resistance to the mana of this world."

My face flushed with embarrassment, and not of the romantic kind. He examined me. Had he done so while I was unconscious? The thought was invasive. I could only assume Tighnari was also responsible for the pristine green cast on my fractured left arm. It was even possible he had dressed me, like a child with a new toy. I teetered on the brink of a panic attack, not because I was infatuated with Tighnari, but because he had, however unintentionally, treated me like an animal. This was not the comforting game world I remembered, the one I had so carelessly wished into existence. The reality of Teyvat was far from idyllic. Mondstadt was understaffed, Liyue struggled with poverty, Inazuma was technologically backward, Sumeru dealt with racism, and Fontaine… Fontaine seemed to have a human trafficking problem, judging by Lyney and Lynette's stories. Natlan was built upon the bones of dragons, and Snezhnaya was becoming increasingly militaristic, if the Fatui were any indication. I was small, insignificant, and powerless. Even knowing Tighnari meant no harm, I felt utterly vulnerable.

"Woah…" He noticed my distress, his brow furrowing. "Relax… Are you alright?"

But I wasn't alright. I was hyperventilating, the fear and terror I had been desperately suppressing now crashing over me. All my guilt, all my regrets, came flooding back in that instant. I was drowning in a full-blown panic attack.

Tighnari never meant to cause distress, but the words seemed to lodge in his throat. He now understood that this "Mini Human" had been affected long before her encounter with Cyno at the ruins. He had inadvertently upset her.

"Just breathe," Tighnari said softly, extending his hands with caution. However, she flinched, her small face contorted with fear. Tighnari had always been perplexed by the "Mini Humans." They materialized out of nowhere, sold by merchants, their backgrounds shrouded in mystery. Sumeru had outlawed their ownership and trade within the Dendro nation, a law he strongly advocated.

Cyno, ever perceptive, sensed that something was wrong. He lacked leads in his current investigation, and this encounter seemed like a valuable opportunity. Clearly, a grave injustice was occurring.

Panic still gripped me as Cyno's hand closed around me, lifting me into the air. I stiffened, new sobs escaping my chest.

"You can cry," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, "or you can take action..."

For some unknown reason, his blunt words jolted me into action. Enough was enough.

"Stop manhandling me! I don't like it," I cried, struggling to get out of his grip. To my surprise, he released me, placing me on the table.

"I know you don't mean any harm," I said, wiping away my tears. "This is terrifying. I was with my friends when a group of huge Treasure Hoarders showed up and literally threw us into sacks. Then, I was in some kind of enclosure, sprayed with who-knows-what. I fell out of a crate in the desert, was chased by scholars, patched up, and dressed up like a doll. I'm not okay," I finished, breathless, the words spilling out in a torrent.

"I apologize; I crossed a line," Tighnari said, his expression of sincere remorse causing me to feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

The words caught in my throat, but I forced them out. "I'm sorry," I managed to say, desperate to make it clear that Tighnari wasn't to blame.

His ears drooped slightly. "No, no, you have every right to be upset. I've only made things worse..."

Cyno, ever stoic, fixed me with an unwavering gaze. "Question: where do you come from?" I told him about my origins, a world called Earth, a city far removed from the verdant forests of Sumeru.

His brow furrowed, a rare display of contemplation. "Is that so? Why are you... how should I put this... sane? As I stated before, all the Mini Humans I've encountered are nothing like you."

"I don't know..." The truth felt like a hollow echo within me. I wasn't special. A flimsy theory flitted through my mind – a brief stint as a beta tester for some unreleased feature, or perhaps just countless hours spent in this digital world. But it was nothing concrete.

"Hmm, either way, this is something I can't overlook..." Cyno's words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I knew his fight against the criminal underworld was a never-ending battle, a hydra where each victory only spawned new challenges.

Little did I know, standing there in the dim light of the forest watcher hut, that I was about to be swept away on an adventure unlike any I could have imagined.

"For now," Cyno said, his gaze piercing and sending a shiver down my spine, "you're my only lead."

The reality of the situation struck me with such force that I was left reeling. "Huh?!" I exclaimed, glancing down at myself, feeling utterly ridiculous.

The thought lingered, a heavy burden weighing me down. "How am I your lead in this...?" The brief thrill of adventure had vanished, replaced by an overwhelming desire to wake up. I longed to escape this bizarre nightmare and return home. My parents needed me. Trapped between the imposing figures of Cyno and Tighnari, I felt utterly helpless, as if I was suffocating.

Cyno's voice broke through my panic. "You're the only small human capable of coherent speech, and the only one who knows their origin..." His words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was a vital piece of evidence, a crucial element in his investigation. The stark realization washed over me: escape was impossible.

I wish I could say the case was simple: I went home, saved Lottie and Jamie, and that was that. But no, life rarely offers such straightforward resolutions. It was far from easy.

"Mmm, we can't keep calling you the mini-human. It's a pity you can't remember your name," Tighnari said, his tone a delicate balance of sweetness, kindness, and underlying sternness. If I wasn't currently the size of a doll and reeling from a recent trauma, I might have found myself swooning. Honestly, though, I couldn't bring myself to care what they called me. Deep down, I knew I wasn't going home. I had failed my parents, failed Lottie, and failed Jamie.

"Oh, I know..." Tighnari's voice pulled me from my spiraling thoughts. He held up a book, comically large in comparison to my diminutive form. "Pick a name..."

I couldn't muster any enthusiasm. The letters swam before my eyes, meaningless symbols on a foreign page. With apathetic resignation, I pointed to the first set of words my finger landed on.

"Mao... does that seem okay with you?" he asked, his gaze searching mine. I simply nodded, the weight of my failures heavy on my tiny shoulders.

"Yeah..." I whispered, the sound barely audible.

That day, whether I was ready for it or not, a new identity was thrust upon me, reshaping my very being. It was as if the threads of my past were severed, leaving behind only a blank canvas for a new life to be painted upon.

The name I had carried since birth, the one I had never truly embraced, seemed to fade into the mists of time, lost forever since I first arrived in this world. It was a shedding of skin, a metamorphosis into something unknown.

And now, I am Mao...

To be continued maybe ??

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