#at least nothing i've come across that i'm /that/ afraid of

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Getting rid of Vanessa quickly is one problem to solve, but Bradley is afraid you'll also be ready to leave after the interruption. Tonight was supposed to be special after so many months of thinking about it. But even when things don't go as planned, he's beginning to see that you want to be around him as much as he needs to be around you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, smut, Bradley being sexy, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were just across the room from Bradley, but it felt like you were miles away right now as he pulled his front door open a little wider to reveal Vanessa. She looked completely calm, as if she was supposed to be at his house. Like he hadn't dumped her months ago. She took a step closer, ready to walk right inside, and his stomach lurched.

"Fuck," he groaned, his face heating up with embarrassment as all of the desire he'd just been enjoying started to recede from his body. "What do you want?"

She already got her fucking water bottle back, so he had no idea how she was going to respond, but he was surprised to hear her say, "I wanted to see you."

Bradley blinked at her wordlessly. He had forgotten the details of her face as soon as he'd seen yours for the first time, and now he could barely remember any of the details of the time he'd spent with her at all. It seemed like a completely foreign concept that she was here to see him. "Why?" he blurted out, and she laughed in response.

"We ended things a little rough before you left, and I'll admit I could have handled it a bit better. But I did miss you while you were away. I wanted to show you how much."

She tried to shoulder her way through the door as he said, "Vanessa. I am so confused right now. We broke up."

"Okay, but now that you're back on dry land, we can both come to our senses."

She must have thought her words sounded reasonable, but they were making his skin crawl. He didn't want her at his house. The uncomfortable feeling was creeping in that he associated for so long with being taken advantage of. He wanted her to leave even as she smiled up at him and reached a hand out to let it rest on his chest.

"I did come to my senses, Vanessa. That's why I broke things off," he said, voice dry and raspy. He was terribly uncomfortable, and he was starting to panic when he felt a warmth at his side and a hand wrap around his bicep. Vanessa's eyes went wide as soon as she saw you, and the look on her face was so comical, Bradley almost laughed.

There was no way you didn't hear every word of their conversation, but you just gave him a little squeeze and smiled as you said, "I'm ready for you to come back to the couch now."

"Who is this?" Vanessa snapped with a tone of jealousy, which was rich coming from her. She was looking at you in disgust as Bradley tried to get his thoughts in order. Was it okay to call you his girlfriend? He was debating with himself, but it didn't even matter. You were already responding. 

"I'm someone who actually cares about Bradley. You must be Vanessa. His ex." Your tone was even, but Vanessa's face started to turn red.

"You've been back for like three days," she muttered in response. "You sure moved on fast."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose. "I mentally moved on as soon as we broke up, Vanessa. Months ago. You picked up your water bottle. I've got nothing else for you here."

He was already embarrassed enough, and then she huffed and stomped her foot at him. Had he actually dated this woman? He had, and now you were witness to his mortification as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I was going to at least offer to blow you while you thought about where you wanted to take me for dinner tomorrow night, but you can just fuck off, Bradley."

His hand on the door finally sprung to action, and he started pushing it closed as he said, "Goodbye, Vanessa."

"Bye," you said, waving your free hand. You turned so the front of your body was pressed against the front of his as he locked his door once again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he grunted in response, because there was really nothing else to say. He'd been daydreaming about this evening for so long, he should have known nothing would go right. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to go home."

You started to tug on his arms as you shook your head. "The only place I want to go is back to your couch."

"Alright," he replied, cheeks absolutely burning with embarrassment. He couldn't decide if Vanessa was serious or if she just needed to get the last word in, but if she ruined his chances with you, he didn't know what he was going to do.

This time you settled down on the cushion next to him instead of on his lap. This was decidedly not where he thought he would be right now when you had your hands inside his shirt just a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry," he whispered before turning to look at you. "I had no idea she was going to show up. I never anticipated seeing her again, actually." When you reached for his hand in response, he swallowed hard.

"So... you met me through my letter right after you broke up with her?" you asked carefully.

There was no point in denying it. "Yeah. I broke things off shortly before I left home. Then a few weeks into my deployment, I got the first package from you and your kids. And I wasn't lying when I told you it changed everything for the better."

You sighed and kissed his scars, and Bradley's heart skipped around in his chest as you said, "I really had perfect timing, huh?"

"You're not upset?" he asked, holding your hand tighter. He didn't give a single fuck about his entitled ex; he just cared about you.

When you shook your head, your nose brushed along his stubble and the edge of his mustache. "Just annoyed that she tried to make you feel bad while simultaneously trying to get you back. Who does that?"

"Not you," he said easily, and he could feel you smile against his cheek.

"I'm hungry," you told him. "Let's eat pizza together. And then I'd like to get back to where we left off."

He pulled you onto his lap as he dug his phone out of his pocket. "Yeah?" he asked hopefully as you draped your arms around his neck.

"Yeah. You promised me the couch date ages ago, and I want the full experience."

He exhaled the breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding, and then he kissed you and asked, "What kind of pizza do you want, Gorgeous?"

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

You were not that surprised that Vanessa showed up at Bradley's house. He was handsome and kind, and of course his ex would eventually realize how good she had it before she messed up. But she already had her chance with him, and you noticed right away how his demeanor changed as soon as he opened the door. The sweet way he'd been looking at you since the first time he called you over FaceTime was nothing like the way he looked at her. And now you got to witness how awful she was for yourself.

When there was another knock on the door, you looked up at his face from where you were snuggled up against his bicep holding his hand. He'd been more subdued for the past twenty minutes as you and he actually watched the movie you brought along with you. That was admittedly not something you thought was actually going to happen. But when he looked at you he smiled before leaning in for a kiss.

"That better be dinner this time," you muttered, ready to rocket off the couch if Vanessa dared to come back again.

He chuckled and said, "If it's not pizza, I'm slamming the door and coming right back."

He kissed you softly one last time before standing, and once you confirmed it really was the delivery driver, you went into the kitchen to grab some beers from his refrigerator. You found four different kinds along with another bottle of Prosecco and some seltzers. The kitchen itself was beautiful, and the window overlooked his small yard. You were about to start searching for a bottle opener when Bradley wrapped his arms around you from behind. 

"I never did take you on a tour of my house," he murmured, rubbing his mustache along your cheek. "Now or after we eat?"

"Bradley," you laughed, and he just held you tighter. The kitchen smelled like pizza, and you could already hear his stomach growling. "You won't make it five more minutes without food."

"You're so right, Gorgeous," he replied, spinning you in his arms so you were facing him. That crooked smile was teasing at his lip as he said, "Thanks for not going home because of earlier. I think I would have been devastated if you left."

He seemed almost relieved as soon as he told you that. "It's going to take more to scare me off than your ex girlfriend, but if she comes back here again, I can't guarantee she'll leave without a black eye. I don't like how she was talking to you." The words were out of your mouth before you could really consider them, but Bradley looked even more relieved as that adorable smile warmed up all of his features. "Besides, this is my couch date. Mine and yours, and nobody else is going to fuck it up."

His smile grew as he pushed you back against the island with his hands on your hips. "I kind of like it when you say bad words," he whispered, his tongue darting out at the corner of his mouth. "Why is that so hot?"

"Because I'm a fucking elementary school teacher," you replied as innocently as you could without laughing, and you were rewarded with a kiss that let you know exactly how hot he thought your potty mouth was. Then he groaned as his stomach started growling louder. "You need to be fed."

He released your lips but tilted your chin up with his fingertips. "Right after dinner and some beers, I'm going to show you around, and then we're going to get right back to kissing."

You shrugged and said, "I kind of figured we'd be kissing while you showed me around."

"That's convenient, since I can't seem to stop." This time he kissed your neck before handing you paper plates. He piled one with two slices of pizza before you told him to stop, and then he piled four on the other plate after taking an enormous bite out of one. "Meet me on the couch?" he asked, patting your butt as you walked away. When you paused to glance back at him, he was still watching you. "I'll be right there," he promised.

You only had to sit on the couch alone for a few seconds, thinking about how badly you wanted him, before he joined you with two opened beers and a roll of paper towels. "Here you go, Baby," he muttered, handing over one of the bottles before dropping down on the couch at your side. 

You watched his tall, muscular body as he reached for his stacked up plate of pizza slices and let it rest on his thigh before he draped his free arm around your shoulders and took another sip of beer. Somehow everything he did was graceful, but it was the way he turned to you, casually kissed your lips and said, "If you like this pizza place, we can order from there again," before folding a slice in half and devouring it that made you melt a little bit.

Of course you were going to want to order more pizza and have another couch date night. You took a bite, and the food was amazing. Bradley started man-spreading on the couch which made you have to snuggle in against him a little more. And then you were both taking sips from his bottle of beer since yours was on the coffee table, and you didn't want to move away from him to get it. And the movie was all but forgotten as the two of you started ranking the local pizza restaurants as he finished his fourth slice.

"I liked the pizza," you informed him as he reached for the roll of paper towels. "And I even like that you're using paper towels instead of napkins. It's oddly charming."

With a soft groan, he took the nearly empty beer bottle from your hand and set it aside. You squealed as he murmured, "Come here," and scooped you onto his lap before stretching out along the couch with his legs hanging over the arm. You were straddling his waist with your hands resting on his shoulders as he softly said, "I'll get you pizza or Thai food or Salvatore's as much as you want." His eyes were soft and sincere as he looked up at you and said, " I don't care. I love all of it. I love spending time with you."

When you leaned down to kiss him, your knee slipped, and you started laughing as he held you in place with his big hands on your waist before you could end up on the floor. "You're too big for your couch, Bradley."

"I tried to tell that ages ago," he replied, guiding his hand slowly down your thigh until he was pulling you back into place. "Didn't stop me from fantasizing about having you on top of me exactly like this." His cheeks were pink as you leaned in and successfully kissed him this time. "God, Gorgeous," he whispered. "The real thing is just so much better than the emailed version, and that was enough to get me going for months."

"Bradley," you whined softly.

"Say it again," he groaned, hand tightening on your thigh. His head was tipped back, dark gaze glued to your lips as you ran your thumb along his scarred cheek. You'd never been this comfortable around a man before. Even now he wasn't rushing anything, though you both knew what you wanted. He'd been giving you one last chance all evening to pull away if that's what you decided to do after Vanessa stopped by. But your heart was telling you with absolute certainty that this man was a keeper.

Your lips met his scars, and the tip of your tongue grazed along his stubble before you whispered right next to his ear, "Bradley." Immediately you felt one big hand at the small of your back, hot and rough against your bare skin, guiding you flatter against his body.

"Oh hell," he gasped before devouring your mouth. Your fingers tugged on his wavy hair as his hand slid lower until you felt his fingers slip inside the elastic waistband of your leggings. He held you in place and rolled his hips up to meet you as you moaned into his mouth. He was deliciously hard just for you. If you couldn't have all of him soon, you were afraid you might pass out.

You could vaguely hear the sound of the movie playing in the background as you explored every inch of his mustache with your lips. Bradley's entire hand was inside your leggings now, and if he wasn't holding you so tight, you knew you'd be on the floor. With every exploratory grind of your hips, you got wetter. The stretchy fabric of your leggings was thin, and you could feel him through his jeans as he grunted deep at the back of his throat, "Gorgeous. I want you."

"Oh my god." His other hand was inching his sweatshirt up along your body while he sucked on your neck, and it took you longer than it should have to formulate words as the butterflies went wild. "I want you, too." You helped him pull the shirt a little faster over your head, leaving you laying on top of him in your bra practically panting as you said, "Take me to your room."

He smiled before kissing you hard, and then you were in his arms as he stood up. "You want the full tour of the house right now?" he teased, but his smile slipped as soon as you unzipped his jeans while you shook your head.

"Bedroom. The rest can wait."

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

Bradley was torn. Part of him wanted to hold you in his arms all night and list off everything he loved about you. The other part wanted you naked and in his bed. He'd never had such strong feelings of love colliding with such strong feelings of lust in his entire lift, and it was honestly a bit disorienting. You were somehow everything he wanted, all wrapped up in one Gorgeous woman. He still couldn't believe you'd stood by his side and let Vanessa know you were with him now, and therefore maybe a third part of him wanted to reward you just for being so good to him.

"Bedroom?" It was a question this time as you kissed him, and he felt your exploring fingers make their way inside his jeans.

"Let's go, Baby."

Bradley had to stop twice on the way, because you were too fucking perfect. You were too perfect not to press up against the wall in the hallway, and it felt too good when your hand found its way inside his briefs. "Shit," he gasped, eyes wide as you touched him, his hands planted on the wall on either side of your head. He kissed you over and over again as your hand wrapped around his cock, and he never wanted this to end.

When he started to toy with your bra straps, you whispered, "Take it off." 

His cock was held snug in your hand as he undid the clasp at your back and eased the lace away from your chest. You were looking up at him, lips parted like you were trying to gauge his reaction to your body, and he couldn't help but smile as he took in every inch of your tits. "Come on. You know you're Gorgeous. I'm sure you can tell just how much I want you."

When you gave his balls a little squeeze in response, he knew he needed to get you through the doorway and into his room. Your bra fell to the floor as he guided you inside. His desk lamp was glowing, and somehow your body looked even more ethereal bathed in the soft orange light. 

You glanced around the room even as you let him tuck you against his body, and he kissed the top of your head as you whispered, "I've shamelessly thought about being here with you." Your hands were on his abs again, pushing his tee shirt up his body, and Bradley could feel your furled nipples against his skin as he tugged it over his head. Every time he tried to speak, a needy sound escaped him instead as your hands smoothed along his chest and down his sides. "Oh my god, Bradley," you whined, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I've touched myself, too. Imagining you were with me."

"Fuck," he groaned, the last bit of restraint snapping inside him as soon as you said his name and those sweet, filthy words. Of course he'd been losing his mind over the very same sorts of thoughts, and as his mouth collided with yours, he led you backwards to his bed. You gasped and laughed when you landed on your back, tits bouncing beautifully as you looked up at him in surprise. Then he was on top of you, tasting your nipple, hooking his hand around your thigh as it crept up to his hip.

You were panting his name quietly as he inhaled the scent of your skin and tasted both of your breasts. "You're so soft," he whispered, talking about your skin and your body and your sweet personality. "I can't get enough."

With your fingers in his hair, you were rubbing yourself gently up against him, and it was making him hard beyond belief. He didn't know how much more he could handle before he needed to be inside you, but tasting your skin and teasing every inch of you was something that should be savored. 

"You don't have to get enough," you whispered. "Not tonight. I already want more."

Bradley's hands were on your leggings, pulling them down along with your underwear. He fought with them for a second, all tangled up with your legs, and then he kissed your giggles away as he ran his rough fingertips along your pussy. When your back arched off the bed, you gasped, and he dragged his middle finger gently along your slit, bucking against your leg at the slick wetness he found there.

You were naked beneath him, reaching for him, telling him you needed his kisses, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen or heard. He tried to take his time, taste you everywhere, but he needed to fuck you more than he needed to breathe. He was dizzy as he stood, jeans halfway down his thighs, cock hanging free from his underwear. Then you sat up in bed, knees bent as you squeezed your legs together and watched him get the rest of the way undressed in awe.

His brain was buzzing as you reached for him, and he took your hand in his, kissing your fingers as he said, "Let me grab the condoms I bought." He walked to his dresser, hands shaking with excitement as he tore into the box, but when he brought one back to the bed and settled in next to you, he noticed you were chewing on your lip.

"Do we really need this?" you asked softly, tapping the wrapper as you kissed him.

Your other hand was wrapped around his cock once again as he grunted, "I don't know, Baby. Do we?"

"Nope." You tossed it across the room, looped your arms around his neck and said, "I want to feel you."

When he eased you onto your back, his cock was nestled against your pussy, and he was completely lost beyond hope. "Yeah, Gorgeous?" he rasped, easing his tip closer to your opening. "You want to feel me?"

You rolled your hips, accepting him into your warmth, and Bradley thrust deep. He felt like the wind had been knocked from his lungs as you wrapped your leg around his thigh and kissed his name against his lips. You welcomed his touch everywhere as he fucked you. Your hands and mouth found his hair and his scarred cheek, like you were made for him. There was no hesitation or uncertainty. Now that he knew every inch of you, he was never going to want anything else.

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

Bradley's body was big and warm, and you could smell him everywhere. His hands were deliciously rough on your skin even as his touch was gentle and sure. Every sensation was brand new while still making you feel comfortable, as if you and he had been here before. You had in your mind at least. You'd considered so many things when it came to Bradley's body while he was still deployed, but just like his exquisite letters and emails, this was even better in person.

You shivered as he stroked your clit, wrapping your leg around him a little tighter, wanting more. Another steady swipe of his thumb, and you were whining. "You like that," he mused softly, and it wasn't a question. "You want more." Also, not a question. He seemed to know what you wanted and how you'd respond even before you did, and when he pulled your nipple between his lips, your back arched off the bed.

"Oh my god, Bradley," you moaned, looking at his handsome face as he gave you thrust after delicious thrust. "Our texts are going to be filthy after this," you gasped, and the intense look on his face receded a bit as a smile found his lips.

"You're damn right," he grunted before dipping his lips down to kiss you again before finding your shoulder and then your neck. "I can't wait to figure out every single little thing that turns you on. I'm gonna take my time and find all of them."

You believed him implicitly, especially since he was already doing a stellar job of making you slowly lose your mind. When his big hands found your hips, he held you in place and went a little harder as sweat started to bead on his forehead. He watched your face for a reaction, and as soon as your lips parted in a long whimper, his mouth was on yours. You held onto his shoulders as he tasted your tongue and told you that you were the only girl for him. Whispered that you belonged with him.

Soon you were slipping, remembering all of the sweet things he told you, both typed and spoken. "I'm so close," you pleaded, needing him to get you all the way there. It had been so long since someone made you feel this good, and this was the very first time a man ever made you feel this vital to his own happiness. Without prompting, Bradley circled your clit with his thumb as you tasted the bead of sweat on his cheek, and you were done. Your orgasm rocked through you as you cried out his name, and his thrusts slowed to an almost languid pace that just made you get louder and clench around him harder.

"Jesus," he panted, smoothing his hand along your skin as he watched you come apart beneath him. "Fucking gorgeous." Bradley's fingers curled around the back of your neck, and his thumb grazed along your lip as he watched you. His handsome face was flushed, and his movements were jerky as he rasped, "Where do you want me to cum?"

"Anywhere."

A string of desire laced expletives flowed from his lips along with your name. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and fucked you until his hips stopped moving, and you reveled in the warm feeling of being full when he didn't pull out. His body was heavy in a good way, and you dragged your fingers lazily through his hair as he murmured, "Am I hurting you?"

"No," you promised, wrapping your calf tighter around his thigh. "Don't you dare move."

The rumble of his deep chuckle and the scrape of his mustache against your neck made you shiver. "I'm not going anywhere, Gorgeous." You just held him to your body while he stayed inside you and treated your skin to little nips and kisses. But eventually his stomach started growling, and you giggled when he groaned. "I don't even feel self conscious around you," he muttered, reluctantly pulling his body away from yours. "Let's destroy the rest of the extra large pizza together while I show you the rest of my house."

Truly, nothing sounded better to you. Bradley located his discarded shirt on the floor and collected you in his arms before pulling it over your head. Then he tugged his underwear into place while he kissed you, and you led the way back to the couch. You could feel how sticky he'd left you between your thighs, but you didn't immediately do anything about it, because he was grabbing the pizza box from the kitchen and then pulling you down onto his lap on the couch. His chin and forehead were cool and tasted a little salty as you kissed him and snuggled against his body. This was exactly how his couch was supposed to be for the two of you as you basked in the way he made you feel magical just by looking at you.

He held up a piece of pizza with a laugh and let you take a bite before he ate most of it. The movie had ended a while ago, and the menu options were playing softly in the background as you finished your snack together with his warm body cradling yours. "During the house tour, can we visit your shower together?" you asked him, running your fingers through his sparse patch of chest hair and down to his abs. "Before bed?"

"Already on the agenda," he informed you, standing again with you in his arms. He led you around, mostly showing off his piano, and then he took you into his spotlessly clean bathroom. He turned on the shower, and as the water warmed up, he pulled his shirt over your head and left you standing naked in front of him with his arm wrapped around you. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about this all the time," he murmured, running his thumb lazily along your nipple as you pressed your thighs together in need. "But I think about how much I love your face and your voice and the way you make me feel just as much. Maybe more."

"Bradley," you gasped, and he treated you to a needy little grunt that left you reaching for his face. "That's the kind of stuff a boyfriend would say."

His expression didn't change much, but his smile grew wider as he told you, "Well I want to keep saying it. So why not let me?"

"Let you what? Be my boyfriend?" you asked, heart beating a little faster as those familiar butterflies found their way back.

"Yeah, Gorgeous. I'm dying for it. And we've kind of already been doing this thing together for months, right?"

"Right," you agreed, pulling him toward the shower as steam filled the room. He came willingly, an expectant look on his face as you said, "You can be my boyfriend, Bradley."

His lips found yours, and they stayed there for a while.

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

Vanessa wanted him to come to his senses, but he already did! HA! He and Gorgeous are like magnets that just want to be touching at all times. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[nanaarchy]

Hey chat !!!! I'm going insane.

Ever since my first listen to TMA, I've had a huge question that NEVER got answered.

Never. Not in the whole series, not Q&As or the wiki or anything. I thought I would never find answers. I thought it would be forgotten. I thought it was a small insignificant detail and I'd have to live with never knowing the truth about it.

Now with TMAGP 19, I might finally know the answer.

Maybe. Maybe maybe. But It Could Be. And now I'm losing my mind at the implications.

((For the record, I know that the stories and worldbuilding are inherently separate - hell, there are even timeline differences in the cases I'm using as evidence. But the overlap might be important, especially when it comes to the Web.))

Spoilers for both shows below!

Its branches were exquisite, and delicate, swaying slightly from small eddies in the liquid, and they shone with every spectra. I must confess that to look upon it, one was – (sigh) filled with profound wonder at its exquisite elegance. [...] Even I, steeped in worldly matters as I am, recognized The Lord’s words to Adam, and was much dismayed at the implication. Isaac then plucked the delicate fruit with ungloved hands and held it before me. [...] The creature was taking root. Strands of its mottled brown hair were extruding downwards between the floor, seeking the dark earth below. Then, too, its back began to sprout, radiant branches unfurling and thickening before me, reaching upwards towards the sunlight with a seemingly insatiable desire. [...] I tell you here, Robert, it saw me, and it knew me. (TMAGP 19 - HARD RESET)

It was an ornate wooden thing, with a snaking pattern of lines weaving their way around towards the centre. The pattern was hypnotic and shifted as I watched it, like an optical illusion. I found my eyes following the lines towards the middle of the table, where there was nothing but a small square hole. Graham noticed me staring, and told me that interesting antique furniture was one of his few true passions. Apparently he’d found the table in a second-hand shop during his student days and fallen in love with it. It had been in pretty bad shape but he’d spent a long time and a lot of money restoring it, though he’d never been able to figure out what was supposed to go in the centre. He assumed it was a separate piece and couldn’t track it down. (MAG 3 - ACROSS THE STREET)

Re: Magnus Institute Ruins. By RedCanary on Saturday April 23 2022 12:17pm. The photos from the spelunk seem properly gone, but I did find an old wooden thing with a bunch of similar symbols on. Some kinda empty box, not really sure what for, though. Gonna see if I can get the light right for a decent pic. Edit: No dice, I’m afraid. Must be something up with my phone camera. Really not helping the whole paranoia thing either. Anyone know anything about photographic distortion? Gonna see if I can borrow my dad’s SLR tomorrow. (TMAGP 1 - FIRST SHIFT)

Adelard Dekker stood in the corner. He was straight and motionless, his lips moving rapidly, though no sound came out of them. In the centre of the room, stood a table carved from dark wood and wrapped all over with a sprawling, intricate pattern. And in front of that table was the thing that had said it was my cousin. It was long and thin, the tops of it bent against the ceiling and its stick-like limbs flailed from too many joints and elbows. Wrapped around it were thick strands of what I think was spider’s web, stretching back into the table, which I now saw pulsed along its carved channels with a sickly light. The face at the top of that gangly frame was like nothing on earth. (MAG 78 - DISTANT COUSIN)

Now... Now I get it. I get it. I finally gave an answer. Or, at least, I think we'll get a concrete answer soon. But I think I get it.

I think I get where the web table comes from. I think I know what it's made of. why it glows. why it had a hole in the middle. I think I might know how the web gained control and sentience so much faster than the other fears. and, if it still manifests in the same way in the Protocol universe, how it also quickly became "the manager" of other fears, as theories suggest.

More importantly, I think I know what was up with the mysterious tree from so, so long ago.

Now I have an answer.

Why was there an apple buried in Hill Top Road?

I opened the box and sitting inside was a single green apple. It looked fresh, shiny, with a coat of condensation like it had just been picked on a cool spring morning. I picked it up. I wasn’t going to eat it, I’m not that stupid, but more than bleeding trees or phantom burning, this confused me. As I took it out of the box, though, it began to turn. The skin turned brown and bruised and started to shrivel in my hand. Then it split. And out came spiders. Dozens, hundreds of spiders erupting from this apple that was rotting right before my eyes. I shrieked and dropped it before any of them could touch my arm. The apple fell to the ground and burst in a cloud of dust. I backed away and waited until I was sure all the spiders had left before retrieving the box. I smashed it with a crowbar, and threw the remains into a skip. (MAG 8 - BURNED OUT)

And now I have an answer. Maybe.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, I was wondering if you could write like a fic about the reader having never had an orgasm before, and she has like a really intense one and likes lots of praise kink. Please🥺

Hold

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are having drinks with Elijah and you want to tell him about your little problem, in hopes that he will help you with it.

♡♡ Thanks for the request(s) anons! I love his hands and I thought these requests would be perfect together ♡♡

4.9k words - Warnings: smut, hand!kink, slight daddy!kink, finger sucking, squirting, lots of praise, Elijah being sweet...

You sat in Elijah's lounge room, surrounded by plush chairs and soft carpet, watching him pour out a couple of glasses of whiskey. You watched the way his hands worked, the way they flexed as he gripped the bottle, pouring the golden liquid into the two crystal tumblers.

Elijah had invited you over for drinks, it was technically your third date, although he probably wouldn't consider it a date, it was more of a casual hang out, but you liked to count every time you saw him.

He was so very charming, he made you blush when you least expected it. He would whisper in your ear, and compliment you, but what really turned you on was the way his hands would touch you. It was always light and subtle, just a graze of his fingertips against your thigh, or the small of your back. Your favorite thing was when he would cup your face when he kissed you. His palms were so big and warm, and his fingers would graze the hairline behind your ears.

Something about him made you feel safe, he was the kind of man who took care of things. You wondered if he could be the one who could satisfy you, to give you what you always wanted.

Elijah walked towards you with the drinks in hand, handing you the crystal tumbler filled with whiskey. The contents sparkling in the dim light, the fireplace roaring nearby.

"Thank you," you smiled, taking the drink and bringing it to your lips, letting the alcohol calm your nerves.

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat next to you, causally crossing his legs and turning to face you, his arm draped across the back of the couch.

Your cheeks were flushed as you sipped at the amber liquid. You were so nervous, you had decided to come clean and tell him what was on your mind, and you had no idea how he would react.

"I have a confession," you admitted, your eyes falling to your lap. "But I'm afraid that it might change things between us, and I really like you, I don't want anything to ruin this."

Elijah's hand went to your thigh, gently massaging your skin, sending heat straight to your core.

"I can promise you that there is nothing you could tell me that would change the way I feel about you," he reassured.

Your heart raced, your chest felt tight. You had to tell him, or else it would eat away at you until there was nothing left.

"I've never... I've never had an orgasm before." Your cheeks burned and your heart pounded in your chest, you hated being embarrassed, especially around people you liked.

"Never?" He questioned, his eyebrows raised and his lips slightly parted.

"No, I've tried on my own and with other people, and I've just... never had one." You couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Come here, sweetheart," he whispered, pulling you into his arms, your back against his chest.

He kissed the side of your head, and his hands moved to your hips. You were glad he couldn't see your face, your breath hitching when you felt him nuzzle against your neck.

"Why would you think this would change anything? I would never think less of you because of something like this."

You felt relief wash over you, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. He was a sweet man, of course he wouldn't shame you. You looked up at him, his dark eyes gazing into your own, he gave you a gentle smile and squeezed your arm.

"What if it means something is wrong with me?" You said softly, still feeling insecure, worrying that maybe you would never find a man who would be able to please you.

Elijah ran his hands down your arms, and intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Maybe you just haven't figured out what you like," he suggested, kissing the side of your head.

You blushed again, his words sparking a few dirty ideas, some you were embarrassed to admit, but perhaps a little discomfort is what you needed.

"Well, there is something I know I like," you bit your lip. “But I haven't tried…”

"And what's that?" Elijah pressed.

"Your hands," you breathed, looking at them, intertwined with your own, thinking about what they could do.

"My hands?" He smirked.

"Mhm," you nodded, bringing his hands to your lips and placing a delicate kiss on his knuckles.

"What do you like about my hands?" He asked, his breath warm against your ear, a smirk still evident in his voice.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, wondering if it would ever slow down. He was so hot, it was overwhelming, he was a man who was hard to resist. He was teasing you, waiting for an answer, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You felt very shy, you had never asked for sex from anyone, and the last person you'd slept with was terrible in bed. He never once satisfied you, he probably didn't even know how. Now here you were, cuddled up to a man with literal centuries of experience. The hands you were holding had done unimaginable things, his lips had tasted women from all over the world, and you were sure his cock had brought more than a few to their knees.

"I like the way they feel against my skin," you admitted, his hand was resting on your hip, and you reached for it, bringing it to the front of your shirt, and pressing it against your stomach, sliding it up to your chest. "They're so warm and strong, they make me feel safe,"

Elijah hummed, his hand kneading your breast through the fabric, and his lips pressing to the back of your neck.

"What would you like me to do with them?" He teased, his fingers flicking over your nipple, causing a wave of heat to flood between your legs.

"I want them all over me," you breathed, your hips slowly moving against him.

"You will have to be more specific than that, sweetheart," he purred.

His lips were soft, the hand that was on your breast had now slid up your chest, wrapping around your throat, pulling you closer, his lips on your ear. You closed your eyes, picturing his hands running down your body, gripping your thighs, spreading them apart, his long fingers dipping inside of you.

"Between my legs," you gasped, his hand on your throat made your mind race.

He pulled you up and on to his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He brushed your hair to the side and he began to kiss your neck. His stubble tickled, and you giggled softly, squirming in his arms.

"You're so sweet," he said against your skin.

He continued to kiss your neck, and his hands roamed your body, gently caressing your sides, your stomach, your arms. It was nice, you felt so cared for, but you wanted more, his kisses and gentle touches were turning you on, and your pussy was aching, begging for attention.

You turned your head and pressed your lips to his, his mouth opening, his tongue sliding against yours. You moaned, grinding down on his lap, feeling his hardness under you.

He smiled against your lips and his hands went to your thighs, lifting them up and draping them on the outside of his legs. He spread his knees, and your legs fell open, the cold air hitting your damp panties and making you blush.

One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you against him, while the other rested on your inner thigh. He slowly moved his hand up, his fingers trailing higher, his fingertips brushing against the wet fabric between your legs.

"Show me how you touch yourself, guide my hand," he whispered, his warm breath tickling your ear.

You let out a soft moan, reaching between your legs and taking his wrist. You pressed his palm against the outside of your panties, grinding your hips into his hand, desperate for contact. You moaned, his hands were so big, so warm, and so much better than your own.

He hummed, and you could feel him smirking, and you could hear the pleasure in his voice, and it sent a thrill through your entire body.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand moving over your panties, gently rubbing, his thumb finding the swollen bundle of nerves hidden beneath the fabric.

You whimpered, throwing your head back, grinding harder against his palm. Your hand left his, and went to his forearms, your nails digging into his suit sleeves.

"You are so sensitive," he said against your neck, his lips pressing against your pulse. "Can I take these off?" He asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear.

"Yes," you moaned, lifting your hips.

He slid your panties down, leaving them halfway down your thighs.

"Put my hand back, sweetheart," he demanded, his fingers dancing on the bare skin of your leg.

You placed his hand back where it was, grinding harder against his palm, moaning softly as he rubbed slow circles against your clit.

"Mmm, look at you," he cooed, his eyes fixed on your face, your eyes closed, lips parted, hips rocking, desperately grinding against his hand. "All you needed was the right touch."

You whined, the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. You felt the muscles in your thighs tighten, and heat pool between your legs. You were so close, his hands were so much better than yours.

"Give me your hand, sweetheart," he said, removing his hand from between your legs.

"No, don't stop," you whined, grabbing his wrist, trying to put his hand back, but he refused, his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

"Let me show you something," he said, guiding your hand back between your legs, your fingers touching your clit.

You gasped, a shockwave of pleasure rushing through you.

"There you go, rub in small circles," he instructed, his lips on your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin.

Your hips bucked, and you moaned, your head spinning. His hand guided yours, guiding you to rub small, slow circles. "You're so beautiful, baby," he said, his lips pressed against your jaw. "Just like that, sweetheart, you're doing so good."

Your breathing hitched, the pressure in the pit of your stomach tightening, his hand squeezing yours, his palm on top of yours, showing you the pace and rhythm.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, his arm wrapping tighter around you, his hand going up your shirt and caressing your bare skin.

"You're such a good girl," he praised, kissing your neck. "Keep showing me."

His words sent heat straight to your core and your hand stopped moving, too distracted by the feeling of his lips. The way his other hand was running up and down your torso, his fingertips gently caressing your breast.

You felt yourself melting, you loved the way he was touching you and his lips were driving you crazy. 

"It's okay, I’ll take it from here," He purred, his lips grazing your neck, his hand resuming his movements on your clit.

"What do you think about when you do this alone?" He whispered, his free hand squeezing your waist.

"I think about you touching me," you panted, his lips and his hands were too much, it was all you could focus on.

"Is that all you think about?" He asked, his hand on your clit rubbing a little faster, sending jolts of pleasure through your core.

"Your fingers... in me," you gasped, his fingers felt so good against you, he knew exactly where to touch, and he did it with such care and precision, you could hardly stand it.

"Like this?" He asked, his fingers tracing along your slit, gently pressing a single finger inside.

You looked down, watching him sink his finger into your slick heat, moaning as he began to pump in and out, his palm rubbing against your clit.

He widened his legs, spreading yours wider with them, and his pace quickened, pumping a little harder, a little faster, his other hand cupping your breast, his fingers circling and pinching your nipple.

"Why haven't you cum before beautiful? You are so responsive, so sweet," he praised, his teeth nibbling at your ear, sending a thrill through your body, straight to your core.

"I-I don't know," you panted, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short bursts. "I just overthink and I can't focus and-"

He chuckled and his finger curled, stroking that sensitive spot inside, causing your words to catch in your throat, your head falling back and your eyes rolling.

"You're not thinking now, are you?" He asked, his free hand sliding up and wrapping around your throat, applying a light pressure.

His words made you moan, he was right, you weren't thinking, he was fucking the thoughts right out of you.

"Look at you, so perfect," he purred, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "I love having you in my lap, you make such pretty sounds," he praised.

His pace quickened, his hand between your legs moving faster, his palm rubbing hard against your clit, his teeth on your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

You writhed and moaned, unable to hold yourself up, his arms were holding you steady, the muscles in your thighs tensed, your toes curling.

You felt something building inside of you, something warm, and intense. It was happening so fast, you couldn't believe it. Was this the thing everyone was talking about? It was overwhelming, your skin was tingling and every muscle in your body tightened, heat spreading through you, your heart pounding, and the pressure was getting tighter and tighter.

"It's okay, just let it happen, relax," he kissed your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin. His knees spread wider, holding your legs open, his hand wrapping around your throat.

You felt it getting stronger, the tension deep within your core. You felt like your body was being possessed by an unknown force, the power of it was indescribable. Elijah held you still, keeping you from writhing in his arms, his finger moving faster.

"Please, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, please, oh god," you begged, the warmth building inside of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably, every muscle in your body was tensed, your toes curling, your head thrown back, mouth agape.

"That's it, you are doing so good," Elijah whispered.

Your back arched and your hips lifted off of his lap, your thighs clenched together, his hand still working between them. You couldn't speak, couldn't form the words, couldn't make a sound, the feeling inside of you was so powerful. Your legs trembled and a wave of pleasure crashed through your body, starting at your core, and spreading outward, every inch of you tingling. Your vision blurred and your mind was cloudy, and a long, guttural moan fell from your lips.

"Just like that," he purred, his fingers slowing, rubbing slow circles against your clit, easing you down.

You collapsed back onto him, panting, unable to catch your breath, his hands still working between your legs, making the sensation last longer. Your muscles twitched and spasmed, and it felt like a thousand sparks were running under your skin.

Elijah gently rubbed his hand on your thigh, his lips kissing the side of your head, and the other slowly slid out from between your legs, and wrapped around your waist.

"Are you alright?" He asked, a sweet concern in his voice.

You tried to nod, but couldn't, you couldn't move, you were a trembling, quivering mess. You could feel his erection pressed against your back, and you wanted to please him, to return the favor, but you couldn't even sit up straight.

Elijah hummed softly, his hands moving to your stomach, and he wrapped his arms around you, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your head.

He helped you off his lap and set you down on the sofa, kneeling before you, his hands lifting your thighs and pressing them to your chest, practically folding you in half. He was eye level with your pussy, and you blushed, suddenly feeling very exposed.

You could see how wet and swollen you were, your arousal sticking to your skin, glistening in the dim light. His warm breath was fanning against you and it caused a fresh wave of heat in your core.

"So pink and pretty," he said, his lips ghosting over your mound, placing a soft kiss just above your clit. "So sensitive," he purred, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue swirling.

You moaned, squirming, but he held your thighs firmly, his grip strong, his hands so warm. His eyes met yours as he licked a slow stripe along your slit, the flat of his tongue teasing your clit. You were still very sensitive, and it was overwhelming, your hands went to his head and tried to push him away, but he didn't budge.

He chuckled, his hands coming up and grabbing yours, and he pinned them to your sides. He held you down and he buried his face between your legs, his tongue swirling and lapping at your clit.

You watched the way he devoured you, the sounds coming from his mouth were so filthy. He was humming and groaning, his dark eyes locked with yours. You couldn't look away, it was hypnotizing, the way his tongue moved, the way his lips sucked at your clit.

Elijah released one of your hands and slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping slowly, curling them, humming at the way you squeezed them.

"Elijah," you breathed, your voice raspy, your hand clutching at his hair.

"Yes, sweetheart?" He purred, his thumb finding your clit, and rubbing in slow circles.

You moaned, and you struggled against his grasp, desperate for friction, but he had you pinned.

"You're teasing," you whined.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his tongue darting out and flicking your clit, causing your body to jolt.

"No!" You cried, the pleasure was building, and your hips were trying to roll, but he was holding them down, his fingers moving faster.

He smirked, his mouth closing over your clit again, sucking gently, his fingers pumping faster. His hair was a mess and his lips were shining, coated with your juices. His fingers were thrusting deeper, and his thumb pressed against your asshole, not quite slipping in, but enough pressure to make you squirm.

"Eli, Eli, Eli," you chanted his name, unable to form full sentences, and he seemed to like it, his eyes closed, savoring the sound.

The familiar warmth returned, and the tension was building, the muscles in your stomach tightening, and your legs trembling. Elijah could feel you tighten around his fingers, and his eyes opened, watching you, his mouth never leaving your clit.

He sucked a little harder, his tongue swirling, and you could feel yourself getting close. Your nails were digging into his scalp, your other hand was gripping his arm, and you could barely move.

A long, drawn out moan came from the back of your throat, and you felt it, the wave, the warmth, the intense pressure, building, building, building.

"I'm-I'm-" you tried to speak, but your words caught, and then, just like before, the wave crashed.

Your back arched and your pussy throbbed around his fingers, a gush of wetness flowing out, soaking his face and hand.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned, your hands going to his head, your fingers twisting in his hair.

You could feel him smiling against your pussy, his fingers still moving, the sound was wetter, and sloppier, his face covered in your cum.

His lips sucked at your clit, his tongue swirling, the stimulation too much. Your thighs closed around his head and your legs locked him in place.

"Eli, don't, it's too much, it's too much," you pleaded, and his hands went to your thighs, pushing them open, gently kissing your clit before moving back.

You could hear his fingers squelching inside of you, and a soft blush dusted your cheeks, your hand went to his, and you held it still.

He smirked, moved up and captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of yourself making you moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, his mouth hungry against yours. His erection pressed into your thigh, the feeling making you desperate for more.

You pulled back, his eyes were wild and dark, filled with lust, and his lips were swollen and slick. You reached down and undid his belt, slowly pulling it off, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You unzipped his pants and reached into his boxers and took his length in your hand, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, his eyes closing as you stroked him.

The feeling of him was nice, it was warm, and his skin was soft. You liked the way he responded to you, the way he bit his lip, and the way his eyes fluttered.

He took his cock from your hand and rubbed the tip along your slit, up and down, coating himself with your arousal.

He was big and you wondered if he could make you cum with his cock alone. The way he had you angled, you could see everything, and his dick was sliding up and down, teasing you, hitting your clit with every stroke.

Your hands went to his shirt, and you started unbuttoning, the fabric sliding off, exposing his toned torso, his skin so warm and smooth, and his arms looked so good. You could stare at his forearms all day, you wanted him to pin you down, hold you still while he fucked you.

His lips claimed yours again, swallowing your moans, his hands pushing your legs further into the couch. Slowly sinking his cock inside of you, bottoming out.

You whimpered against his lips, his dick felt amazing, you were so full, his pubic bone pressed against you.

"Look at that," he cooed, taking a quick glance down, then meeting your eyes, "we fit together perfectly."

You loved the way he overwhelmed you, the way he touched you, the way he kissed you, the way he spoke, so low and gentle.

He slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip inside, and then thrusting forward, his pelvis grinding against yours. He kept a steady pace, his strokes slow, deep and hard.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands clinging to his shoulders, his arms, anywhere you could touch.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his words spoken against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.

"Mhm," you hummed, your eyes shut tight, enjoying the feeling of him stretching you, his length reaching places that had never been touched before.

His finger gently traced over your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth, sucking his finger inside, swirling your tongue around it, biting the pad gently.

"Such a good girl," he purred, his eyes darkening.

You moaned around his finger, his pace quickening, his cock hitting a new spot, and it sent a rush through your core.

He removed his finger and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue parting your lips, slipping into your mouth, his hand holding the back of your neck.

"Daddy," the word slipped from your mouth and you froze. You didn't mean to say it, you were just so distracted, and in the moment, it slipped out.

Elijah chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, "Really?" He asked, his voice low and seductive.

Your heart was pounding, you didn't mean to say that, why did you say that? You opened your mouth to apologize, but he silenced you with a kiss

The kisses were deep, passionate, and it made you weak. He knew exactly what he was doing, his pace and rhythm was perfect, and he was driving you crazy.

The sounds of him thrusting into you, the smell of sex, his mouth on yours, the way he was touching you, it was so intoxicating, you never wanted him to stop.

He groaned, his pace quickening, and his cock hit that sweet spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, your arms around his neck, and you moaned, the feeling so intense.

"That's it," he purred, his hands moving to the underside of your thighs, holding you open, his pace fast and hard, his pelvis slapping against yours.

"Oh, god, yes, daddy, fuck," you whined, unable to control the words coming from your mouth.

"Yes, sweetheart, cum for me," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You were so close, the warmth was returning, the now familiar heat pooling in your belly, and the tension building. Your hands gripped his biceps, the muscles flexing under your fingertips, his pace quickening.

"So sweet, so innocent, never cumming on a cock. What a shame," he mumbled, his teeth scraping over your skin, his tongue licking and soothing. "All those boys, touching themselves, wishing they were the ones to make you cum, but you chose me," his voice was low, his words making you flush, the way he was praising you was intoxicating.

"Only you," you gasped, the feeling in your core getting stronger, the waves of pleasure becoming more frequent.

He smiled, his hands moving to the back of your knees, pushing them towards you, your thighs pressed against the sides of your chest. He was folding you in half, his hips snapping forward, his cock hitting a new spot. "That's right, baby," he cooed. "No one else," his thrusts were faster and harder, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room.

Your hands moved to the back of the sofa, trying to hold yourself steady, your back arching, the pleasure almost unbearable. "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, Eli-" you cried, the wave of warmth, the tension in your belly, the sparks under your skin, all coming to a peak.

The feeling exploded within you, your muscles spasming, Your back arched as the waves of pleasure washed over you, crashing through every cell of your body. You couldn't speak, couldn't moan, your mouth open in a silent cry, the euphoria indescribable.

Your head fell back and your legs trembled, and you felt a rush of warmth coat his cock, squeezing him so hard he was pushed out, but he quickly slid back in, the sensation making you squeal.

"That's it, cum on my cock, good girl," he said, his hands gripping your hips, his thrusts deep and hard.

You could see it in his face, the way his eyebrows drew together, his jaw slack, the veins in his neck were prominent, his hair disheveled. He was close, and it was turning you on, the sight of him losing control, knowing that you were the cause of it, was exhilarating.

His thrusts became faster and sloppy, his grip on your hips tightening, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your hands went to his hair, tugging at the strands, pulling him closer.

He moaned, his hips bucking, his cock pulsing inside of you. You could feel it, the rush of warmth, his cock twitching, the sound of him panting in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your neck.

You were both covered in sweat, his breathing heavy. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, holding him against you.

His head rose, and his eyes met yours, and he gave you a sleepy smile, his lips capturing yours in a lazy kiss. You hummed, your hand gripping his chest, sliding up to hold on to his shoulders.

Elijah groaned, his hands moving to your thighs, pulling them down, and wrapping your legs around his waist. Picking you up, and carrying you to his bathroom.

Soon, you were pressed against the cool tile of the shower, his strong hands massaging the soap into your skin, the water trickling down his muscular back. His fingers trailed over your hips, tracing the curves of your waist.

"So.. daddy?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.

"I'm so sorry," you apologized, blushing, covering your face with your hands.

He removed your hands and gave you a sly grin.

"I think I like it," he whispered, his voice low and husky, scooping you up and pinning you against the wall, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss.

The water was still running, but it wasn't important, because the only thing on your mind was him. His hands, his lips, his body, his voice, the way he held you, the way he loved you, the way he made you cum.

After, the two of you were lying on his bed, naked and spent, his arms wrapped around you, his lips brushing over your forehead.

"You know you aren't leaving my bed for a few days, right?" He asked, his voice deep and sleepy.

"Is that so?" You teased, nuzzling your face against his chest, inhaling his scent.

"Yes," he answered, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

"How many times do you think you can make me cum in the next 72 hours?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you challenging me?" He asked, a smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe," you purred, kissing his jaw, your fingers moving to his chest.

"Well," he began, his hand cupping your ass, his face breaking out into a wide grin, "let's find out.”

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[devnmon]

bloodletting // a.a.

Summary: You're afraid of being judged when your time of the month comes, and Astarion being Astarion... is enthused.

Warnings: period oral, mentions of blood and menstruation!

wc: 2.2k

Astarion was always confident he could read you like a book. Though one certainly long day of adventuring passes by without you both speaking, and he's unsure why you're downright avoiding him.

He was confused, yet intrigued, by your attitude. Standoffish, pushing him away, generally the way you never acted, especially towards him.

That is, until he caught a whiff of you. It wasn't a different odor than he'd had the privilege of tasting before, just more potent.

More… fragrant.

Pheromones of yours wafting in the air, coming from one known source: you.

The vampire's thoughts wracked him as to what could've been throwing you off this much that you'd push him away this much. You'd consistently talk his ear off about anything crossing your mind.

And Astarion, the man he is, would always listen intently.

For you to spend your day glued to the girls' side all day raised some questions with him. Of course he understood if you were in need of space, but for you to not let him know at the very least-- well, he was a little puzzled.

But in fact it was when he found you crouched over, groaning in pain while washing your hands off in a stream. It was then he realized what you were cleaning your hands of.

"Well, well. Now I know why you've been avoiding me. Are you going to act like I can't smell you, darling? A vampire's senses are much stronger than a human's, don't you know?"

Freezing in your place, you turn to meet the smug face of one certain companion of yours catching you literally red-handed. A flush of heat rushed across your skin like wildfire, caught in his tantalizing gaze.

"You know, I don't mind it, if you know what I mean. That is why you've been avoiding me all day, correct?" His arms crossing over his broad chest said enough about how astonished he was with you hiding this from him. He didn't take kindly to being avoided, especially not if it was something so personal as this.

You stood a few feet away while attempting to collect yourself, clutching a used pair of undergarments in one hand.

"Astarion–" you began, failing to convince the dashing man before you of anything but what he already knew. Nothing that bad would have you tragically trying to hide it from him, of all people.

"No, no… don't even try to explain yourself." The smirk on his face was telling enough, low voice of his ringing out again, "You thought I'd, what, be drawn away from you? It's blood, darling."

"Of course not. I just… didn't know how you'd react. I've got terrible pains most days on our travels and I've had to beg our healer to cure me every day since it started. It's been so heavy that I've had to refresh myself way too often... which is exactly what I was doing when you found me here." You wrung your hands between one another, before the vampire stepped closer and took them into his.

"Love, you should know I would never judge you. If you needed a little relief, all you had to do was ask. It's what I'm here for, to ease your struggles. Make things alright when they're not." One of his hands moved a lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear before cupping your cheek with his palm.

Impulsively, you leaned into his touch, one you always chased every time Astarion lay his hands of velvet on you.

"Just knowing how you feel about it is a huge relief. I didn't know what to do or what to say to you... hence me being by the girls' side all day long. Just figured talking out how to tell you about it with them would help because I was nervous. And I wouldn't ask you to do something like that for me."

Astarion picked up on your cheeks reddening whilst you mentioned the idea of an act so intimate. He knew you weren't one for coming to him first about things to try in the bedroom; you'd rather let him take the lead and find out what you liked through that.

But this was about you being in pain, and if getting between your legs to quite literally suck you dry eased some of it, he'd gladly be first in line for that experience.

"What if I... offered? Does that change anything about the way you feel? Maybe it would give you some respite from those pains you've been complaining about. You know I can do things you can't get from a cleric, darling."

Your eyes widened a bit at his proposition, a strong heat beginning to stir inside you.

"A-Are you sure? I mean I know you're a vampire and all, but do you really mean that?"

"I'd ravish you every minute you'd allow me. This isn't any different. I crave you, in all ways. Your pleasure is mine, and I want to show you just how much I mean it." His thumb swiped across your cheek softly, to which you looked at him and nodded, watching his lips curl into a smirk.

Within the grasp of his other hand, he finds the soiled underwear still soaked with red. Luckily, his nimble rogue hands had taken the cloth before you could notice it was gone.

His lips pressed to your neck, ghosting kisses over your skin while listening in on your blood pumping. Chill kisses of his were much needed after rushing to clean yourself up.

The ruby eyes of your lover darkened with an inking of mischief, before he was guiding your body to lay down for him, placing a rag under your hips.

Your garments had been tossed off to the side, with Astarion's hands parting your thighs. He took a deep breath, the scent of you intoxicating him to another level. You could've sworn his eyes sparkled with desire before his head moved between your thighs.

Astarion dragged his tongue through your folds long and slow, parting easily with the amount of blood your body had already shed.

"Mmm… this is an experience I'll think about forever. The sheer act of you giving your body to me in such a way... Like a tying of souls, for infinity. Makes me love you even more. If that's possible." He spoke again, that accent of his making a hot blush cover your cheeks.

"No, please don't stop. Oh, gods- Astarion..." you breathed, running a hand through his curls and gripping tightly.

The vampire's tongue slid over your entrance this time, up through your folds and right over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You let out gasps of his name followed by moans when he begun to circle it with just the tip of his tongue. Astarion drank up every part of you more easily than he thought he could. He was infatuated.

Diving in deeper, he hooked your thighs around his shoulders, relishing in the taste of you further. You were trembling beneath him already, but he was able to wrap his biceps around them and hold you down.

Seeing him smitten with the taste of you while making his own sounds of pleasure from it sent you further into a haze of pleasure.

Astarion considered this the closest you two had ever been, like a binding of souls that lasted for eternity. He would gladly travel Avernus and back for you if given the chance.

His tongue traveled through your folds once again, stopping right over your entrance before sticking his tongue inside to lap up more of you.

"Oh, gods. You're good at that…" you whimpered, hips stuttering against the pale elf's grip. You're much more sensitive to his touches than when not on your cycle, the way your hips swayed, and your breasts swelled, it felt silly to think you didn't come to him sooner.

Once he came up for air, you caught the glimmer in his eye that noted his enjoyment of it all. Painted his face with you, a testament to how devoted he was entirely to you.

"So perfect, my love… I doubt anyone else's gotten the chance to have you like this. I'm the luckiest in all of Faerûn."

Astarion placed his hand on your lower torso, right above where your pubic line starts, and presses his palm firmly onto your abdomen.

Somehow your body melded to his in an instant, responding to his touch with another gush between your thighs.

It heightened your pleasure and though you knew he was drinking your blood, there were no words to describe how erotic it was seeing yours all over his mouth.

He controls his tongue's movements through you like it's breathing, flitting over your clit with fervent need to taste.

"Fuck... Astarion, please- ah! It hurts..." you whimpered, a cramp running through your body.

"Another one of your pains?" The pale elf inquired, the sudden loss of his mouth debilitating after all his stimulation. You nodded to him, attempting to hold back your sounds of discomfort.

"Let's see what we can do about that..." His mouth thankfully returned to your aching heat, the red of your blood messily lathered upon his face. Both his hands slide around your waist, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your lower abdomen.

Although Astarion's skin was naturally cool to the touch, the light blue glow from his palms was even cooler in the moment. Instantly your cramps disintegrated, thanks to the healing scrolls he kept on hand.

"Your touch is life changing, my star... What would I ever do without you?" you sigh, throwing your head back in relief when he lowered his head back down.

He chuckles before circling his tongue around your clit, causing you to tug on his hair again while your hips stutter underneath him. Astarion breathes you in with another inhale, the crimson taste on his tongue more decadent than he's ever had.

To hold you in his arms and find himself getting to worship at the temple that is your body, he was certain this was where he was meant to be.

With the way you sighed with content, he was sure the little healing spell he'd cast was in effect.

A blaring heat rushes through you when he prods a finger into your opening, watching as a bit of blood seeps onto his palm. Sensual moans of his vibrated against you, sucking lightly on your clit again in sync with the movements of his fingers.

It’s as though you feel the knot between you two loop together, freeing you in time and space where you lay from any contradictory feelings you had. About to squeeze your eyes shut, you hear Astarion’s voice in your mind.

Doing so well for me, gods, you taste exquisite…

You’re blushing furiously at the echoes of his silken voice, laid within his body mind and soul. Part of you still holds the shame that comes from within, combatting the thoughts that pull your mind away from him.

I admire you to the rings of saturn and back, no one else has such a hold over me like you.

Every move he makes is soft and doting, as if you would break lest he move too quick. Astarion’s words chip away at the highest wall of masked vulnerability you’d built up. It’s brief, the sheer embarrassment you’re utterly soaked in, before his words ring out in your head a final time.

I’m here. Let go, darling. You’re mine, evermore

His fingers continue to plunge inside you, thinking only of your pleasure as your body explodes for him. Astarion continues to work you through euphoria, as your back arches under him.

An ever so slight ache of need washes over your entire body, goosebumps rising on the soft skin.

“There you go, so good for me.” Astarion’s voice breaks the silence, the only other sound your panting breath and stream of water nearby.

Astarion knows he’s just orchestrated the most wonderful oblivion of sensuality and just cannot help himself.

Once more he runs his tongue through you, lingering taste of you on his tongue. He lifts himself from you, palms running softly over the skin of your thighs before helping you sit up.

His curls were nothing but a mess from your tugging, and even though you were the one given pleasure, he held the same blissed out glowy look you did.

“Thank you, Astarion. That was… like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I’m truly the lucky one. How can I ever repay you…”

Before he even has a chance to clean himself up, you’re pulling him in for a kiss and tasting yourself on his lips. What you once considered cowardly and disgusting was now filled with love and devotion. Nothing would compare.

“Nevermind repaying me. You’ve all but let me suck you bloodless like so many nights before. I’ll be glowing by the time we wake tomorrow. Now, let’s get some rest. Shall we?”

Astarion begins to stand, holding out a hand for you to grasp as he pulls you to your feet.

“Is there anyone more perfect than you, Astarion?” you asked, sighing with satisfaction.

“I highly doubt it.” he snarked.

“Hm. Good, because you’re the keeper of my heart. All my love belongs to you.”

His hand brought one of yours to his lips, kissing it softly before interlocking his fingers with yours with a smile as the both of you walked back to camp.

[findmeinforks]

Stay Pt. 2 - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

This is the final part to Stay 💕 I liked writing this version of Paul, just a big ole softie. I'm currently working on another one shot & a Sam fic as well. As always, let me know what you think! 2.4K words ❤️

You giggled as you took a sip of coffee, the tea you had made went cold long ago.

"I definitely don't think a slap across the face was necessary..."

He chuckled, "That's what I said! Jacob is still hopelessly in love with her. They aren't even imprints. I don't get it." He shook his head.

"What's imprints?"

Paul nearly choked on his drink.

"Um, well it's-"

"Good morning you two!" Paul sighed of relief as Emily walked into the kitchen.

"Oh my gosh, what time is it?" You went wide eyed.

She laughed, "7:00am. I was going to make breakfast if you're hungry."

You nodded getting up, "Sure, I'll help you."

Paul watched you both cook as the rest of the pack slowly filtered in. He. Was. Fucked.

He was trying to come up with something, anything he didn't like about you. Not only was he incredibly stubborn on the fact he didn't need anybody, but what he wouldn't admit was he was downright terrified. Afraid he'd say the wrong thing, or do something stupid and screw up any chance of a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. But that was before you....

-

New vampires were popping up everywhere, and the boys had been on patrol non stop.

This meant little to no conversations with you, other than the occasional small talk at dinner. Paul craved to be closer to you, but every time he had an opportunity, he let his nerves get the best of him.

He watched you leave to run errands one day, Emily then turning to him.

"Are you ever going to ask her out or are you always going to stare at her like a lost puppy?" She boldly asked.

Paul couldn't help but smirk.

"What's it to you?"

"Ummm EVERYTHING. You imprinted on my best friend. And besides, I've watched you get with many women. I can tell she's different to you." She smiled.

Paul sucked in a breath. He took a quick look around to make sure there were no other open ears before mumbling, "She just makes me nervous, I don't know. I guess I never cared if someone would reject me before. Not sure how I would handle it if she did."

"You're kidding right? Ugh, you're both so lost in the clouds. She's head over heels for you, Paul."

"Yeah right." He scoffed.

"I'm serious!! Do whatever you want to do but I think if you took a shot, you'd like her answer."

-

You had been sort of bummed out at the fact you really hadn't gotten anywhere with Paul since that one late night weeks ago. You had chalked it up to him simply not being interested. Normally you'd just brush it off, knowing not every guy you encountered would want you in that way. But, it was ten times harder when you lived with said person. Even though the boys had been extra busy with patrols, you still saw him at least once a day. You got butterflies each time, fantasizing he would just walk up and ask you out. When he never did, you knew you had to just get over it.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you sighed, looking at the unanswered question. Fuck it.

-

It was a Friday night, and the first one in months that Paul didn't have patrol. He was finally going to do it. He was going to ask you on a date. He'd thought this through, countless times. He was simply going to offer if you'd like to grab some pizza and go see a movie. Nothing crazy, just casual and comfortable.

His leg was bouncing under the kitchen table, waiting anxiously for most of the boys to leave. He had been mindlessly talking to Quil who had suddenly averted his gaze to the stairs, eyes growing wide. "Holy shit." He whispered. Paul turned to where he was looking, and his breath caught in his throat.

There you stood, radiating in a tight dress that hugged your body in all the right ways. Your hair had been curled just slightly and your makeup made your face glow. You looked like you had taken a step right out of heaven.

"And just where do you think you're going gorgeous?!?" Emily gushed, hand on her hip when she, too had noticed.

"I got invited on a date." You beamed.

Paul felt like he had just taken a knife to his chest. His heart felt like it was nearly ripped out, his inner wolf scratching at the surface in pain. This was nobody's fault but his own. He didn't do anything for weeks and it wasn't even surprising someone else had beaten him to it.

The air was tense, all the boys and Emily trying and failing not to gauge Paul's reaction to your words. He slowly got up from the table, restraining himself not to shake, not to even show a slight temper until he was outside and far away from the house. He couldn't ruin this for you.

You frowned at Paul's exit, wondering in the back of your mind if he at all cared. Nonsense. Focus on this date, and do not think about him.

-

"I thought I'd find you here." Sam chuckled as he approached Paul, both in wolf form on the edge of the forest. Paul hadn't wanted anyone to see, but when your date picked you up he had followed you both to the restaurant, happy it was in ample sight through the crowded trees.

Paul huffed. "I'm just making sure she's safe. That is my job as an imprint, is it not?" He sneered.

"Of course. But then again, if you admitted to yourself that you liked her, she might not be on this date in the first place."

"For fucks sake. I do like her, okay? I've been busy on patrol and I was planning on asking her out tonight. I didn't know it would be too late.."

"It's never too late."

"Have you and Emily been watching too many rom-com's lately? Seems you both have all the answers to my love life."

Sam snorted. "We don't have all the answers, no, asshole, but we do know first hand what it's like to navigate imprinting."

Paul sighed. Maybe the universe would give him a second chance.

-

You had regretted everything the second you got in the car. This guy was the most boring, dullest man you could have ever met. You caught yourself looking at the clock more than you did him.

Once you had suffered through about two hours of misery, you politely (and awkwardly) told him you didn't think this would work out, and that you would find a ride home. He seemed absolutely fine with this, and you knew it was because you had put in so little effort from the start. Perhaps dating was not for you right now anyways. At least, dating anyone that wasn't him. Once you'd stop letting him get in the way of your thoughts, you'd try again.

After the man left you called Emily from the lobby, to which she apologized it didn't work out and said she'd of course be on her way.

What you hadn't expected however, was to see a certain wolf you had been obsessing over, pull up to park instead.

What a sneaky little bitch.

You walked up to the passenger door, eyebrows up in confusion.

"You ordered a get away car?"

You blushed, rolling your eyes playfully as you hopped in.

"Listen, not every guy is going to be my knight in shining armor and I've accepted that." You chuckled.

"That bad huh?"

"Miserable. Had the personality of watching paint dry. And that place was awful. They didn't even have good food. Just salad and wine. I'm starving." You threw your hands up in defeat.

Paul cleared his throat, the nerves starting to creep back up to him.

"Would you want to stop somewhere for some pizza?"

"Please, that would be great."

Paul smiled as he started up the truck.

-

You two walked through the door, throwing each other a confused look. It was silent. If there was one thing you learned about living here for the past month, it was that it was never, ever quiet.

Paul set the boxes on the counter, noticing a small note.

"I'll be back, I'm just going to change." You announced before heading to your room, in which he took the opportunity to quickly read it.

Probably the only time I can promise a house to yourselves until at least midnight. Make a move already! -Emily & Sam

Paul blushed before discretely throwing it in the trash.

You came back in an oversized hoodie and sweats, just about knocking the wind out of Paul. How did you look so flawless, so effortlessly? He'd never know.

"We could watch a movie while we eat on the couch. If you want..." He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing a slice and following him.

When both of you had finished eating, still watching the movie, Paul's mind was anywhere else. He had to stop letting his nerves get the best of him. Before he'd know it, you'd just be out again with some other guy. He couldn't let that happen without at least knowing if he had a chance. You were his imprint for crying out loud, so you had to feel some sort of bond, right?

He eyed you from the side as he caught you hugging your knees to your chest, shivering ever so slightly.

"Are you cold?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious. When you nodded meekly he held out his arm. "Come here."

Your heart was racing as you more than gladly accepted the invitation in his arms. Jeez, was he hot.

"You have this tempature all the time?"

You could feel his chest vibrate as he chuckled. "I guess there are some perks to being a wolf."

Paul was being as normal as possible, but his mind was screaming. You molded perfectly into his chest, your hair smelling of fresh shampoo. Your small hands hesitantly wrapped around his torso as you snuggled deeper into him. He placed his arm on yours, the other wrapped around your side. He could spend forever just like this.

It wasn't but an hour that he could feel you softly start to snore. He smiled to himself as he gently kissed the top of your head. He leaned his cheek down, and soon enough, he followed.

-

Paul squinted his eyes open, nearly jumping when he saw your head still lay on his chest. He had almost thought the entire thing was a dream. As the sun shone through the curtains he realized you both had slept through the entire night, shocked none of the pack members tried to mess with him. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair and out of your face. You looked so peaceful. He pulled his hand away when you started to blink, yawning and stretching before also realizing where you were.

You looked up at him before fully sitting up.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't realize I fell asleep."

"It's okay, I just woke up myself."

You both now sat upright on the couch, but still so close. You looked up at him with tired eyes. He couldn't help staring back,

"You're really beautiful you know." He said so softly that it was almost a whisper.

You blushed, hard. You looked in his eyes, the ones you caught yourself in so many weeks ago, and down to his lips. You parted your mouth slightly as if you should say something, but Paul was already ahead of you.

With one hand he cupped your cheek, he leaned down and melted his lips into yours. You snaked your arms around his neck, getting lost in the kiss, in his overall warmth. He could feel you smile through the kiss, and it was as if it washed away any doubts that he had before.

"Ohhhhhh SNAP!!!!" Embrys voice had you two pull away, Paul turning to glare at him as his hand still gripped your waist. He almost had a mind to get off the couch and fight him, if you hadn't placed your head into his neck, giggling.

"Embry I told you to leave them alone damnit." Emily's stern voice came from behind them, smacking him upside the back of his head. She drug him back into the kitchen, ordering he help her with breakfast.

"Hate to say it but nights like last night won't happen often. Theres a lot of interruptions in this house." He said as he softly kissed your forehead. You lifted your head back up, kissing him softly once more.

"As long as we can always pick up where we left off."

Paul smiled wide as he swiftly pulled you under him, your laugh rung in his ears as he returned his mouth to yours.

Perhaps fate wasn't so bad after all.

[19burstraat]

I know I've definitely seen posts abt this before, but I can't get over how much the 'Jordie' in Kaz's head is just... not Jordie. Like obviously it's not, bc he's dead, but it's also not even accurate to Kaz's memory of him.

Like these are the sorts of things that are attributed to 'the voice of' Jordie:

Jordie had come for his vengeance at last. It's time to pay your debts, Kaz. You never get something for nothing. But he could hear Jordie laughing. No, little brother. No one is stronger. You've cheated death too many times. Greed may do your bidding, but death serves no man.

While Jordie was no stranger to grandstanding statements, and one might argue Kaz actually picked that habit up from him ('The city is winning so far, but you'll see who wins in the end' for example), these aren't the sorts of things he'd have said to his kid brother??? Yes, he could be arrogant, and he's snappy with / acts superior to Kaz a few times, but as far as we see, Jordie is mostly very good with Kaz; he has a remarkable tolerance for/patience with him, especially for a newly orphaned thirteen year old. Kaz admittedly comes across as a quiet kid and is pretty compliant; he rarely talks to anyone except Jordie and Saskia, he seems to just watch for most of their interactions with 'Hertzoon', he largely does as he's told and doesn't wander off, but he's still like... nine, and wants to do stuff like see the magicians and make all the dogs walk at once, and sulks when Jordie stops him from doing stuff and makes him stay inside. We also see Jordie pretty frequently lying to Kaz to try and make him feel better. But this mental-Jordie is not a comforting presence. The start of SOC is literally set up to make you think Jordie is someone that Kaz has swindled or betrayed, that he fears will come back for vengeance, so it's a big 'oh wait wtf' moment when you realise that he's not a rival gang member or anything, he's just his brother, and it wasn't his fault. But you wouldn't know it! Kaz wants 'Jordie's' voice silenced 'forever' and seems afraid of it, almost— at least, it turns up in vulnerable moments. He thinks that 'paying his debt' (i.e. taking out Rollins) will get rid of it. (Sorry hon. It won't.) Kaz thinks at one point that he still sees Jordie as "infallible" and looks at him through the eyes of the child he'd been, but in other scenes he's glove-puppeting 'his brother' to punish himself. I guess he still sees Jordie, even in death, as the ultimate authority figure, and to cope with guilt/stress/grief he imagines that this is something he's being compelled or commanded to do, and that when he does it he'll have redeemed himself, when really it's just desperate flailing to get the closure he couldn't have. I'm sure he knows goddamn well that this isn't actually what Jordie wanted for him ('You'll go to school') and that's why the mental 'Jordie' is really off, because Kaz knows its not really the will of his brother— it's just him. It talks like him! He doesn't even try to imitate the real Jordie! It's just Kaz, alone— but he's never really been able to come to terms with that.

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" it's amazing how physically exhausting it can be to do nothing. "

" if you are unable to endure boredom, this work is not for you. "

" i am what i am. "

" i'm not exceptional, i'm just a part. "

" consider yourself lucky if our paths never cross. "

" luck isn't real, nor is karma, or sadly - justice. "

" one is born, lives their life and eventually, one dies. "

" most people refuse to believe that the great beyond is no more than a cold, infinite void. "

" avoid being seen, which is impossible in the twenty-first century, so at least avoid being memorable. "

" keep calm, keep moving. "

" it's a dog-eat-dog world. "

" every man for himself. "

" kill or be killed. "

" survival of the fittest, isn't it all just human nature? "

" it's the idle hours that most often lead a man to ruin. "

" i'm aided and abetted by law enforcement fatigue. "

" vigilance is essential, even the most disciplined mind can become weary, impatient, hurried, sloppy. "

" i find music a useful distraction. "

" i'm not here to take sides. "

" it's not my place to formulate any opinion. "

" no one who can afford me needs to waste time winning me to some cause. "

" i serve no god or country. "

" if i'm effective, it's because of one simple fact - i don't give a fuck. "

" each and every step of the way, ask yourself - what's in it for me? "

" you've done what you can do. "

" calm, breathe. "

" obviously it's a fucking problem to say the least. "

" there were two of them. "

" i've learned not to pry. "

" i was so afraid, afraid i might say something. "

" you'd have been proud, i was strong. "

" i don't know who they are, don't wanna know who you are either. "

" care to explain yourself? "

" who do you think you're trying to intimidate? "

" i need that information, and you are running outta time. "

" need any help getting rid of that body? "

" i'm not a bad person. "

" hope they're not planning a sleepover. "

" how's 'i don't give a fuck' going? "

" fight only the battle you're paid to fight. "

" you picked the wrong house, motherfucker. "

" it's common knowledge when a female is found slain, the prime suspect is always the husband or boyfriend. "

" well, maybe not common knowledge. "

" i've been so good for so long. "

" tell me he went horribly. "

" you would be very impolite to refuse to join in my last supper. "

" afraid it's tainted? "

" what happened to her, i had no part in. "

" i objected to his methods and i told him so. "

" it's nothing personal. "

" we've all had to work through the occasional civilian who's stood between eyes and the prize. "

" i was surprised at what i was capable of. "

" how easy it was. "

" i assured myself there were some things i would never do. "

" less you know, the better. "

" one man's cruelty is another man's pragmatism. "

" you're here because you couldn't help yourself. "

" you expected to sit across from me and feel nothing but reassured. "

" how is it possible? having prepared myself for this moment for so long, i have failed to believe that it would ever arrive. "

" i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, who, come to think of it, at this moment, is you. "

" you'll remember our conversation. "

" help a girl out, won't you? "

" trust no one. "

" this is what it takes, if you want to succeed. "

" good enough for james bond. "

" i told you this, and you don't listen to me. "

" once i see his eyes, i'll have a pretty good idea of how this is gonna go. "

" i'm not going to be disappointed in you. "

" i came to show you how easily one might get to you. "

" do you and i have a problem? "

" nobody's perfect. "

" the need to feel secure, it's a slippery slope. "

" fate is a placebo. "

" maybe you're not one of the few. "

[lockedtombtheories]

Thanks! I think the biggest thing currently bugging me about HtN is why every surviving lyctor, with 1 single exception, was plotting to kill Jod? My understanding is that it was only when they saw cav!Gideon's eyes on the Mithraeum that they realized Jod lied about the existence of perfect lyctorhood. So why had they spent decades plotting with BoE to open the tomb and murder God? Only explanation I've read is "because he made them kill their cavs," which seems weak.

The short answer is: They at least suspected that he lied about it even before meeting Gideon. She was just the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. Plus, he did make them kill their cavs! Their siblings, their lovers, their closest friends! They dealt with that truth for far more than a lifetime, but they just so happens that they had a lot of time to dwell on it. It’s not really a surprise that it eventually got ugly.

Long answer under the cut, because I love my followers and don’t want them to suffer.

First off: it isn't just the surviving lyctors who betrayed God. Mercymorn, Augustine, Cytherea, yes; but even G1deon was willing to share a bed with the enemy. Either he or Pyrrha told Wake about the RB's and what they do to necromancers, thereby handing her an effective weapon against lyctors. 

And then there's Anastasia, who's implied to have gone against John's orders by even founding the Ninth House. Cassie, who contacted BoE *6 000 years ago*. So who really knows what Cyrus and Ulysses were up to, or would have been if they'd survived for long enough. 

As for why? We get two pieces of explanation in the text. 

YOU LIED TO US

Could this refer to the proof in Gideon's eyes? Sure.  But I'm not convinced that it wasn't the message Cyth always wanted to send. 

Checking in with the other duplicitous sluts:

“You’ve offered us explanations for everything over the years. But—some of them didn’t hold up on examination … It was the power I could never get my head around, you know? I follow power back to its source, John. It’s the skill you asked me to perfect. And the longer I looked at yours, the less things added up.”  “This has been troubling you for a very long time, then,” God said finally. [...] “You don’t get your power from Dominicus,” said Augustine. “It gets its power from you. There’s no exchange involved, no symbiosis. You draw nothing from the system. It relies on you entirely, as we all know. You’re God, John. But—as the Edenites are fond of pointing out—you were once a man. So whither that transition? Where does your power come from? Even if the Resurrection had been the greatest thanergy bloom ever triggered, it would drain away over time. And then Mercy said to me—in a moment of true Mercy vileness—she said, What is God afraid of? [...] I never wanted to believe it when she said, What if he didn’t really put down A.L.? And then—What if he couldn’t put down A.L.?” (HtN, ch. 51)

So: they knew that John didn’t have a tangible power source; and lyctorhood was the only kind of internal furnace they know about. Ergo: yes, they suspected that John had lied about perfect Lyctorhood. He made them kill their cavs. 10 000 years of guilt, literally chasing them across the universe, and for what? For whom?

What kind of God demands such a sacrifice? I think that's one of the central questions of these books. What kind of God demands it? (compare the Binding of Isaac - John) But also: What kind of God punishes it? (compare the Mark of Cain - the Resurrection Beasts) 

But - 

“Why would one of the Emperor’s Lyctors hate him?” “Hate him?” The voice of the girl whom Gideon had known as Dulcinea rose, high and intent. “Hate him? I have loved that man for ten thousand years. We all loved him, every one of us. We worshipped him like a king. Like a god! Like a brother.” (GtN, ch. 35)

They are Believers losing their Faith. They’re questioning the entire foundation of his divinity. Augustine and Mercy are still asking, still hoping that they're wrong - “All that effort to break open the Locked Tomb,” said Augustine, “only to have the answer we wanted wander up in the form of one dead teenager flaunting your genes." - but crucially, they are also lovers going through a messy divorce. You know, when people who once loved each other and were presumably capable of communication are suddenly throwing plates at each other? “Come, swear your loyalty, my son—my brother—beloved—Lyctor—saint.” 

Possibly what Tazmuir is saying is, they're the same picture. But that might be conjecture. 

(edited to add in links to other theory posts. call it the director's cut)

[munchmemes]

florence + the machine lyrics, high as hope edition

A SIDE

❛ i'm so high, i can see an angel. ❜ ❛ i hear your heart beating in your chest. ❜ ❛ the world slows 'till there's nothing left. ❜ ❛ in those heavy days in june when love became an act of defiance. ❜ ❛ hold onto each other. ❜ ❛ you were broken-hearted and the world was, too. ❜ ❛ i was beginning to lose my grip. i always held it loosely but this time i admit, i felt it really start to slip. ❜ ❛ at seventeen, i started to starve myself. ❜ ❛ i thought that love was a kind of emptiness. ❜ ❛ at least, i understood then the hunger i felt & i didn't have to call it loneliness. ❜ ❛ we all have a hunger. ❜ ❛ don't let it get you down, you're the best thing i've seen. ❜ ❛ we never found the answer but we knew one thing. ❜ ❛ in that pink dress, they're gonna crucify me. ❜ ❛ how could anything bad ever happen to you? ❜ ❛ you make a fool of death with your beauty. ❜ ❛ i thought that love was in the drugs. ❜ ❛ the more i took, the more it took away and i could never get enough. ❜ ❛ for a moment, i forgot to worry. ❜ ❛ i thought it doesn't get better than this. ❜ ❛ there can be nothing better than this. ❜ ❛ the world is at your fingertips. ❜ ❛ everything i ever did was just another way to scream your name. over and over and over again. ❜ ❛ i want a space to watch things grow. ❜ ❛ did i dream too big? do i have to let it go? ❜ ❛ what if one day there is no such thing as snow? ❜ ❛ i don't know anything. except that green is so green. ❜ ❛ there's a special kind of sadness that seems to come with spring. ❜ ❛ you need a big god. big enough to hold your love. ❜ ❛ you keep me up at night but to my messages, you do not reply. ❜ ❛ you know i still like you the most. ❜ ❛ you'll always be my favourite ghost. ❜ ❛ sometimes i think it's getting better and then it gets much worse. ❜ ❛ is it just part of the process? jesus christ, it hurts. ❜ ❛ though i know i should know better, i can make this work. ❜ ❛ shower your affection, let it rain on me. ❜ ❛ are you deeply sleeping or are you still awake? ❜ ❛ a good friend told me you've been staying out so late. ❜ ❛ be careful, my darling. be careful what it takes. ❜ ❛ from what i've seen so far, the good ones always seem to break. ❜ ❛ i can feel your anger from way across the sea. ❜ ❛ i was kissing strangers, i was causing such a scene. ❜ ❛ oh, the heart, it hides such unimaginable things. ❜ ❛ i want you so badly but you could be anyone. ❜ ❛ hold me down, i'm so tired now. ❜ ❛ leave me where i lie. ❜ ❛ i feel like i'm about to fall, the room begins to sway. ❜ ❛ i can hear the sirens but i cannot walk away. ❜ ❛ i thought i was flying but maybe i'm dying tonight. ❜

B SIDE

❛ i'm sorry i ruined your birthday. ❜ ❛ i guess i could go back, try and make my parents proud. ❜ ❛ i don't think it would be too long before i'm drunk again. ❜ ❛ this is the only thing i've ever had any faith in. ❜ ❛ [NAME], i don't say it enough. you are so loved. ❜ ❛ all the walls were melting and there were mermaids everywhere. hearts flew from my hands and i could see people's feelings. ❜ ❛ and you, you were the one i treated the worst. only because you loved me the most. ❜ ❛ we haven't spoken in a long time. i think about it sometimes. ❜ ❛ i don't know who i was back then and i hope and hope i would never treat anyone like that again. ❜ ❛ oh [NAME], you've always been my north star. ❜ ❛ i have to tell you something, i'm still afraid of the dark. ❜ ❛ do you understand that with every seed you sow you make this cold world beautiful? ❜ ❛ you told me all doors are open to the believer. ❜ ❛ i believe her. ❜ ❛ how's that working out for you, honey? do you feel loved? ❜ ❛ i drink too much coffee and i think of you often. ❜ ❛ are you afraid? 'cause i'm terrified. ❜ ❛ you remind me that it's such a wonderful thing to love. ❜ ❛ i believe in you and in our hearts we know the truth. ❜ ❛ i believe in love and the darker it gets, the more i do. ❜ ❛ it's just too much, i cannot get you close enough. ❜ ❛ a hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here. ❜ ❛ lord, don't let me break this, let me hold it lightly. ❜ ❛ we have no need to fight. we raise our voices and let our hearts take flight. ❜ ❛ my held breath fills the room with love. ❜ ❛ it hurts in ways i can't describe. ❜ ❛ my heart bends and breaks so many, many times and is born again with each sunrise. ❜ ❛ we're sorry, we thought you didn't care. ❜ ❛ how does it feel now you've scratched that itch? ❜ ❛ hubris is a bitch. ❜ ❛ i feel nervous in a way that can't be named. ❜ ❛ we're a family pulled from a flood. ❜ ❛ it was so far to fall but it didn't hurt at all. ❜ ❛ i've always been in love with you. could you tell it from the moment that i met you? ❜ ❛ they told me that they loved me then ghosted me again. ❜ ❛ the older i get i find that happiness is an extremely uneventful subject. ❜ ❛ i must confess, i did it all for myself. ❜ ❛ the loneliness never left me. i always took it with me. ❜ ❛ the loneliness never left me. i always took it with me but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company. ❜ ❛ no chorus will come in. no ballad will be written. it will be entirely forgotten. ❜ ❛ and if tomorrow it's all over, at least we had it for a moment. ❜ ❛ things seem so unstable but for a moment we were able to be still. ❜ ❛ this will be entirely forgotten. ❜

[alatismeni-theitsa]

There are many things I will never forgive Rick Riordan for but the number 1 (one) thing I will always hold against him is how he treated WWII in the entire series.

To quote the PJO wiki, "[...] World War II, in the books, is described to be a huge fight between the children of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the children of Hades on the other.

The events of World War II resulted in the pact of the Big Three, because their children were affecting the course of history too much. It was decided more demigod children would be dangerous for the mortal world."

Just. What the fuck. There are so many things that are wrong with this.

There is nothing that he can do to excuse or salvage this. He could rewrite the whole series, I don't give a fuck. This should not have happened in the first place.

I don't care if he wrote the first book in 2005, he was and still is a grown ass man with a high education from what I've read, he has no excuse. WWII has affected millions across the globe with the descendants of all too many families even having to deal with the generational trauma that came from that time period alone AND dealing with heavy deniers of the many atrocities and war crimes that were committed whilst their grandparents and great-grandparents are having hallucinations of all of their traumatic experiences (can you tell i'm speaking from experience?).

Ironically he holds (Ancient) Greece on such a high pedestal, calling it the birthplace of Western Civilisation (it isn't), and yet you can tell he obviously knows very little about the damn country whose culture he's been appropreating for almost two decades now. Making Hades the father of 3 (three) terrible war criminals in the war that, you know, Greece had been and still is greatly affected by to this day. Which is, you know, his fucking home. That he and all the other characters supposedly care about oh so much (I have so many bottled-up negative emotions about these books and absolutely no safe space to let them out, theitsa, you have no idea).

You may think I'm overreacting or taking this too seriously but I honestly couldn't care less. This is not a topic you can just joke about or treat light-heartedly. Yes, it was mentioned as an atrocity in the books, but it was still mainly treated as just "Hehe silly fight between gods! Secret History ooo!~".

Simply saying that WWII was bad is not enough, Rick, it's actually the bare minimum. You need to show it at the very least some respect by not undermining its consequences to simply "This is why we don't have kids anymore!". But you're obviously not ready to hear that yet. It still baffles me that his fans are just now discovering he is not the saint they thought he was. "How could he be a zionist ??" they all ask in unison, meanwhile the signs were all there since 2005 (at the very least).

Anyway, you don't have to answer this ask if you don't feel like it, I understand it can possibly be overwhelming. You're the first person I've seen that's actually not afraid to point out Rick's bullshit despite initially liking his books, and also the fact that you are a Greek educating people on actual Greek culture, so I felt safe sharing my thoughts with you. Thank you for your time! Καλές γιορτές! 💕

You're overreacting, especially when it comes to the World Wars! In ww2 1 in 10 Greeks died in the famine, and almost everyone I know had someone in their family executed or tortured by the Germans/Bulgarians/Italians triple occupation (not to mention getting hurt or killed in battle). These situations traumatized generations of Greeks, but Rick had the immense privilege of not considering this while writing! He treated the wars like they were play-dough for his little cutsy lore, he made our arch-enemies the children of our gods, and he can go to hell for this.

I am here for all the righteous Greek αλάτι, so if you have more thoughts, bring it on!

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Hi there! Just came across this blog, and I must say you do some great work!

Okay, ever since I first heard of Pokémon as a kid back in the 90's, I've desperately dreamed of having my favourite Pokémon, Haunter, as my beloved companion. So I'm fairly interested in hearing how you'd rank a Haunter, the very best ghostly boy ever, as a pet :) I know he comes with some potential health risks to an owner or trainer, but listen, I'm willing to risk an odd paralysis here and there if it means I'll finally get to have a Haunter as my sidekick! <3

[Thank you so much!]

Well…uh… I really wouldn’t recommend it, but I know I’m not stopping it. I know there’s a lot of trainers out there who use haunters in battle but I’ll be honest: those people are like, recklessly bold. I’m afraid keeping a haunter comes with more of a risk than just paralysis. But I’m getting ahead of myself: let’s get into it.

Space is a non-issue for haunters. While at five-feet tall these pokémon are pretty large, they are nearly weightless and can pass through solid surfaces, like walls, with ease (Red/Blue). This is both good and bad: on one hand it means that they can fit in any home. On the other, it means that they could come and go from your home whenever they want to, and there’s nothing you can do about it. That could be a problem, as we’ll get into later, but it does save haunter from a lower rank than an F. If you want to adopt a haunter, you’ll need to keep your home pretty dark at all hours of the day. Wild haunters spend all of their time in the shadows, out of what seems to be both a preference and a necessity for survival: in well-lit cities, they are said to be going extinct (Gold, Moon)!

Ok, let’s get into the real issue here: haunters kill people. They are known to stalk and ambush any living things who pass by them alone and in the dark (especially those in a gloomy mood), licking them with their gaseous tongues to “sap their life away” (Yellow, Gold, Silver, Crystal, Ultra Moon). If you are licked by a haunter, you will face a long, painful death: you will be racked by constant shaking until you die (Yellow, Silver). Now, it’s unclear if haunters need to do this in order to survive, but they do it often enough that the pokédex gives a firm warning to never approach this pokémon, even if they are acting friendly (Ruby/Sapphire). Let’s say, just as a hypothetical, your haunter decides that they like you enough to not kill you. That’s great! But, like I said earlier, you have no means of restraining you haunter to your house. They could go off and steal the lives of whoever they want! At the very least, keeping a haunter as a house pet would require extensive training.

Their notorious lick isn’t the only means that haunters have to menace humans: they have access to dangerous ghost-type moves like Curse, which saps your HP over time until you fall unconscious, or Night Shade, which hurts you depending on your level. If you’re an adult human, you probably have a pretty high level. They also can use staples like Shadow Punch, Lick (of course), Hex, and Shadow Ball, all of which present a threat. Given that haunters appear to be pretty malevolent beings, an attack is certainly not out of the question. Unless you are well-trained in taking care of ghost-type pokémon, your survival chances when attacked by a haunter are startlingly low.

There aren’t many pokémon that I’ve covered so far that actively hunt and kill humans as a part of their natural behavior. I know there’s people out there, probably experts, who could maybe handle a haunter as a house pet, but they really take their lives (and their neighbors’) into their own hands every day. I can’t, in good conscience, suggest a haunter as a pet, sadly.

[jgys-hat]

Now I've rewatched The Untamed having now read MDZS, here are some thoughts (in no particular order):

I found myself liking Jin Zixuan a lot more this time around - the first time I watched I found him kind of boring, but this time I really appreciated him for seemingly trying to be kind and fair despite being posh and privileged. I also found his awkwardness endearing... Oh, and Wei Wuxian is a total dick to him on several occasions, to be honest.

I also liked Su She a lot more this time.

I liked Wangxian a more in CQL than in the novel. I think this is because in the novel, WWX can't read LWJ very well, so sometimes I felt that novel!LWJ came off as somewhat of a flat character, whereas in the show the acting gives a better sense of what he might be thinking and feeling at any given moment.

The flashback episode scenes at Cloud Recesses where they're all young, alive and more or less happy are Painful to watch knowing what's coming next...

I really intensely dislike CQL's inclusion of the second flautist plot point. I think the story is more interesting and tragic if WWX really did just overextend himself and lose control.

On a similar note, I preferred that in the novel the curse put on Jin Zixuan was nothing to do with WWX at all - I think something that's got nothing to do with him being pinned on him anyway adds an extra level of tragedy to the story and adds to the themes the story is trying to put across.

I much preferred the greater level of moral ambiguity that the novel had - it made me really sad that WWX does some really awful things but eventually gets to live happily ever after having had a chance to redeem himself, whereas JGY never gets that chance and just dies horribly :(((

I really enjoyed the extra development that CQL gave to the female supporting characters! I feel like CQL gives a much better sense of how Wen Qing is as a person than the novel does.

JIN GUANGYAO THE CHARACTER EVER... Everything I could possibly say about him has already been said by people who are much smarter and better at writing than me, but I love his character so much... He does do some pretty awful things, BUT he gets put in a lot of impossible situations where he would have been absolutely pilloried no matter what he did, poor guy. "JGY did some awful things" and "JGY was genuinely badly treated by a lot of people" are statements that can and should coexist.

The other thing that I find really sad is that JGY meets his end because of the person he (at least in the novel) killed in self-defence and was genuinely afraid of, and not because of anything actually evil he did, like having his dad's pet serial killer murder twenty women... It's really not justice at all, but I think that's likely the point the story is trying to make.

Listen, I'm just so sad about A-Yao... Maybe people should have been nice to him and he wouldn't have committed crimes :)))

He lived so much of his life in fear of one kind or another and then dies humiliated :))) I'm fine this is fine :)))

I am continually astonished that the censors decided "no zombies for you" but something as gross and horrible as the way Jin Guangshan was bumped off is A-OK.

I think that given how different the structure of the drama is from that of the novel, introducing the Yi City trio earlier on was an understandable and sensible change to make.

I think I may need to scream forever about Nie Huaisang's character arc... The fact that by using LXC to kill JGY he's become as manipulative as the person he hated, and has also forced Jin Ling into becoming sect leader at a very young age, just like NHS himself was by the death of his brother, makes me Feel Things...

...As does the fact that his face as he leaves the Guanyin Temple in CQL is not the face of a happy man - it comes across to me as though he's realised that getting revenge hasn't really given him any sense of satisfaction at all. He must know that his peers are unlikely to really trust him again. I love how in his final scene he's dropped the buffoonish act totally, because now his plan has come to fruition he can outwardly be the person he has been inside for a very long time.

NHS is clearly just as capable of Rage as his brother once was, he just expresses it very differently.

Also, the fact that by the end of the story NHS is likely older than his brother ever got to be :)))

I wish CQL had had some way of working in the scene from the novel where NMJ had NHS' things burned - I think it was nice on getting some background on the brothers and on NHS' relationship with JGY.

JGY and NHS were clearly close once, so watching this happen to their relationship is so interesting to me... The betrayal on both sides is just *chef's kiss*... I actually think they're both quite similar in a lot of ways, but that's probably a topic for a separate post!!!

They are both such cool and interesting characters and I love them both!!

[velvetvexations]

As a trans man who has gone from not supporting to term transandrophobia out of fear and pressure from friends to supporting it and feeling upset about the many ways it affects my life and interpersonal relationships. I am curious to hear perspective from non-transmascs such as yourself or anyone else in the replies (and I would like to hear from any transmascs too about this), what kind of discussions and questions did you come across or ask yourself that made you confront the transandrophobia you might have learned from society? Or even become more aware of how to be an ally to transmascs? Are there any good litmus tests I can use to either filter out transandrophobic people or cause people who care about me but might not think about it enough to question their own biases? Not just a gotcha question about including men in feminism but things that have inspired genuine self reflection on what trans men/mascs face in society and how we can support them. I would really like to hear what the process of unlearning transandrophobia has been like both for trans people who aren’t transmasc and for transmascs unlearning internalized transandrophobia.

(putting this in the tag)

What alerted me to the issue was two transmasc friends coming to me to ask my opinion on some posts as a trans woman. It really makes me doubly angry when people say transmascs have brainwashed me into it, because they came to me in deference and I drew my own conclusion about how fucked up it was.

As for unlearning transandrophobia, I'm not sure. I don't want to say I didn't or don't even now carry unconscious transandrophobia to at least some extent, but I've always been close to so many transmascs and just not at all living on the same plane of reality where people think they're equivalent to cis men in power or mistreat trans women or women in general.

I always desperately want to be corrected when I do or say anything that makes people uncomfortable, and very much want my followers and friends to tell me when that happens. That's nothing specific to transandrophobia, though; it's the same for other races, cultures, etc. and I even recently asked people to watch how I talk about transfem SRS because I was afraid I was getting too hostile about it.

I'd love for other people to chime in with better answers to your questions. <3

[freesia-writes]

Congratulations on the followers!! That's so awesome!! 😆😆

Could I ask for prompts 9 and 16 with my beloved Sergeant Hunter, please? 🥰🥰 Thank you so much!!

*whew* I needed to stop myself for this one! Might have to write a smutty continuation if the demand is there. ;)

Word Count: 3k Hunter x GN!Reader Content Warnings: wound care, PG-13 passion, nakey Hunter ;) thirsty inspiration from this drawing by @cloned-eyes

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

#9 - You find an injured clone who was somehow (conveniently) left behind, thought dead, and instead falls under your care… and falls under your spell… ;)

#16 - "I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

HUNTER

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

He groaned suddenly, rolling his head from one side to the other and startling you out of your drowsing. You sat up quickly, brushing the hair from your face and rising to your feet, at his side immediately. You were just in time to watch his large brown eyes open, fluttering a bit and roving the room quickly before focusing on you with a hawklike stare. With a sharp inhale, he tried to sit up, brow furrowed, a small grunt of pain escaping him as you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Your ribs are cracked; you need to stay still for now,” you said softly, trying not to focus on the muscles rippling across his chest and the sensation of his sweaty bare skin under your palm. Some hair scattered across his forehead as he slowly laid back down with a wince.

“Where am I?” he croaked, and even after being unconscious for hours, the gravelly tone of his smooth voice sent shivers down your spine. What was wrong with you? It felt as though you’d never seen a man before, and you were starting to want to kick yourself for the absolutely ridiculous way you felt smitten for someone you’d only seen passed out. You couldn’t deny that you’d thoroughly enjoyed wrapping the large gash on his bicep, as well as the one on his thigh, and had been grateful that he hadn’t been awake to see you ogling his sculpted limbs while you treated his wounds.

“Uh, in my room…” you admitted, cringing a bit as his eyes flashed at you. “Sorry -- on Pantora. I was coming home from a late shift and found you in a clearing… It looked like something had blown up, maybe a ship? I thought you were dead, but when you had a pulse… I couldn’t leave you there.”

“I need a comm,” he answered abruptly, again trying to sit up, getting halfway propped on an elbow with a grimace. His free hand grasped at his side, chest heaving with the pain and effort of simply moving and breathing. “Where are the others?” 

“There were no others, at least not anywhere near you,” you said, holding a hand up in an attempt to soothe his apparent agitation. The dark tattoos across his face, chest, arms, and torso were mystifying -- as though he wanted his skeleton marked on the outside -- and you found yourself wondering if it went all the way… You shook your head to clear the thoughts and distracted yourself by answering him, “There’s a long-range transmitter in the local communication center that you can use, but if you move too much too soon, you’re going to cause more damage. I can send a message for you, if you’d like?” 

He scrutinized you, taking in your earnest face, noting the slight blush creeping across your cheeks, and suddenly sensing your elevated pulse and blood pressure. His brows furrowed, trying to discern the threat. Were you afraid of him? Were you malicious? He took a deep whiff, wincing again at the sharp pain that stabbed him in the side in response, and his eyes widened slightly at the pheromones that gave you away, although you were completely unaware. A tiny smirk teased the corner of his lips, but he said nothing of it. 

* * * 

You couldn’t discern a word of the message you sent, nor the one you received in reply, but the man nodded when you relayed the information to him. It had been a jumbled mess of words that made no sense at all, and you couldn’t resist asking about it as you brought a small bowl of soup into your room.

“We like to keep things… covert,” he answered cryptically, kindling your interest even further. 

Your tiny apartment left much to be desired, and you’d been sleeping on the couch. It had been a few days, and you wondered how long this would last. You’d offered to take him to the local infirmary, and had found yourself shockingly relieved when he declined. Instead, he informed you that he’d be picked up within the week. Something about a hyperdrive that you hadn’t really listened to, finding yourself distracted by the way a few hairs always seemed to dance across his forehead, held back by a red bandana with a skull on it. You chewed the side of your lip, wondering what it would be like to rake your fingers through that hair… And he suddenly chuckled out of the blue, snapping you out of your illicit daydreaming. You were clearly in a *mood*.

“What?” you asked innocently, angry at the blush that snuck onto your cheeks as though he had heard your thoughts out loud. 

“Oh, nothing,” he answered, setting the soup bowl to the side. He’d been able to sit up, and was propped up with all the pillows in your home, as well as some bundled blankets. 

“So secretive,” you mused, attempting a bit of playfulness to diffuse the tension you felt, “Are you even going to tell me your name? Or shall I call you Havoc 1 like your message?”

“Hunter,” came the silken reply, and you wondered if it were really his name or not. You echoed it quietly, relishing the way it rolled off your tongue. It had been a while since you’d been… intimate… and while you weren’t normally one to feel the craving spontaneously, this dark and broody stranger was fueling a fire within that you hadn’t felt in a long time. He was hitting every button you were an absolute sucker for -- strong man made vulnerable by injury, mysterious and alluring, and just the right mix of sharp and soft. You decided you might need to blow off some steam that night, if you could find some time alone… 

“Okay, Hunter,” you said, wondering why he was still smirking at you knowingly. Perhaps it was just his thing… But it still made you wonder. “I have another bacta injection for you, if you want to try it out. You might be able to stand after this one.” 

With a resigned huff, he leaned forward, pulling his shirt over his head with a stiff groan that made your dirty thoughts come flying back. He leaned to the side, reaching his arm forward to expose his side. You took the cap off of the syringe, looking at him apologetically as you placed a steadying hand on his ribs, a prickling sensation running up your arm at the feeling of his body heat. The injection was placed without a sound or movement from him, though you thought you could see the flash of a furrowed brow for a split second. He sat back, taking a slow, deep breath to test the waters, giving a small nod of approval. 

“And now, we wait…” you said, shrugging as though you were in it together. “Are you still hungry?” 

“I’m alright for now,” he answered, eyes scanning the bandage on his arm. “Though it might be time for a shower once I can get back on my feet.” He looked up to you as he said the last part, a fiendish glint in his eye that caught you off guard. Did he know what he was doing to you? You’d tried so hard to appear neutral around him. Or was he a pervert? The last thought came unbidden and unexpected, and you laughed out loud before you could catch yourself. 

“Now it’s your turn to laugh at nothing?” he asked with a grin, and you nodded, returning his smile with a spark of joy in your chest. 

“Well give it an hour or so, and you should be able to stand,” you informed him. You rose to your feet, shifting awkwardly. You wanted to give him privacy, but also enjoyed his company, in more ways than one. Without the excuse of bringing him food, you were at a loss. But perhaps… it was worth a try… “The time might pass more quickly if you were distracted?” you offered, “If you’d like to chat? Or, if you want to rest, of course, that’s fine too…”

“Distracted, eh? You going to dance for me?” he crooned, his smoky voice sounding even sultrier than usual and making your stomach do a flip. You began spluttering an explanation, but he laughed, waving a hand to indicate his jest and relieve you from your frantic backtracking. “I’m just kidding,” he said, with a rumbling laugh that made him wince as much as it felt like velvet on your ears. “There aren’t many details I can tell you, but perhaps you have a story or two you’d like to share?”

* * * 

Another day passed, punctuated with meals, conversations, and a growing affinity for the complexity of the man in your care. The food in your fridge had dwindled, sending you out for a few necessities. You grabbed some extra snacks at the store, wondering what else Hunter might like, and arrived home with a precariously full bag in each arm. Kicking the front door shut behind you and setting the bags on the counter, you peeked through the door of your bedroom, noticing with a start that he wasn’t there. You glanced frantically around the apartment, which was incredibly tiny and didn’t provide many hiding places, and then it dawned on you that the only other place he could be was the refresher. As though the realization had beckoned him audibly, the door swung open, and Hunter stepped out, causing your stomach to clench in a spasm so tight you had to swallow involuntarily. 

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, but apparently hadn’t found the body towel tucked in your cupboard, instead opting for the medium-sized hand towel you left hanging on the hook. It fit tightly around his snatched waist, where he held it with one hand, but split open on the outside of one thigh, revealing that yes, the tattoo did indeed go the whole way… You jerked your eyes back up to his, but that wasn’t much better -- his hair fell around his face in damp waves, and he looked incredibly vulnerable somehow without the bandana. He lifted his free hand to his head, running it through his hair to shake out some excess water, a few droplets scattering across his bare chest and shoulders. You gasped audibly, and he looked at you in response, so you turned into an incredibly fake yawn as an attempt to mask it. 

“Long day, huh?” he asked with a chuckle, walking slowly toward the bedroom, providing a revolving view of his side, then his back… Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud, you were positive he could hear it. It should be illegal, what he was doing… The way he looked… The sudden wafting scent of soap that reached your nose as he passed by. It was your own soap, damnit, so why did it smell so intoxicatingly good? It wasn’t fair. He disappeared into your bedroom, rummaging for his blacks, and then he called your name, causing you to clamp shut your slack-jawed mouth and come immediately. He was sitting on the side of your bed, covered by that tiny little towel, hair covering his face as he was bent over to inspect the gash on his thigh.

“I can wrap my leg, but if you wouldn’t mind helping me re-wrap this arm…” he said quietly, face as straight as an arrow as he looked up to you for a response. You nodded, words unable to get past your dry mouth, and reached for the gauze on your dresser, sitting down next to him precariously. He lifted his arm toward you slightly, and you brought your foot up to the top of the bed, providing your bent knee to hold his arm in front of your face while you tended to it. Absolutely refusing to meet his gaze, you studied the cut on his bicep with the intensity of a lifetime, as though it could save you from the positively feral state you were finding yourself in. 

Hunter took a deep breath, as though he were simply taking it all in, and he let it out slowly, watching you from the side. He could see and hear the blood rushing in your veins, he could smell the undeniable signals of your attraction, and he could feel the palpable tension at the close proximity you found yourselves in. Your hands trembled slightly as you wound the gauze around his arm, and you cursed them for their betrayal of your nervousness. 

“Thank you,” he said huskily, and you finally met his gaze. “For all of this. I don’t think I said it before. But I appreciate all you’ve done.” His hawkish features softened, and your hand moved seemingly of its own accord, lifting to his face, where one of his wet chunks of hair had crossed his forehead from the side it was supposed to fall on. You brushed it back to its rightful place, watching the tiny smile grow on his face, and once it was satisfactorily placed, you slowly started to lower your hand. It took all the effort you had to force it to continue down to your lap instead of resting on his cheek, tracing the outline of his tattoo, brushing along his sharp jawline. 

Suddenly, his hand intercepted it, startling you and sending a shockwave through your body. He held it tenderly, as though he had read your thoughts, and lifted it to his face, pressing a meaningful yet impossibly gentle kiss against the back of it. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale giving away your surprise. 

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he purred, lowering both hands to his lap, and the heat rushed into your face with a vengeance, setting your cheeks on fire. “I’m afraid you’re not quite as subtle as you’d hoped, although I’m a bit more perceptive than most…” Your foot slipped off the edge of the bed, and in a complete and total panic, you leapt to your feet, facing him with contrived indignation. 

“I… sorry… I don’t know what you mean! I just… You…” you spluttered your defense, although the delivery was working wholeheartedly against you. Taking a step backward, you tripped over the leg of the chair and thumped into the wall. Smooth. Standing up and pushing your hair out of your face, you looked back to him just in time to catch the flash of a smirk as he rose to his feet as well, moving slowly and stiffly, still clutching that little tease of a towel. He approached slowly, as a predator stalking its prey, with a smoldering intensity in his eyes that threatened to make your knees buckle. He lifted his free hand, placing it on the wall next to your head, and leaned in at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“So… You’d probably like me to stop this, then?” he rumbled, bringing his chest and face within inches of yours. You looked to the ceiling, praying for any sense of guidance or self control or anything, but felt nothing but the overwhelming craving washing over you from head to toe. You swallowed, hard, clenching your fists at your sides. But wait… He clearly wasn’t put off by your infatuation… Or why would he be doing this? Was he toying with you? Or did he share the attraction? You lowered your eyes to his, taking in the honey brown pools of emotion and depth, and slowly lifted both hands to his chest, tentatively resting them as though the heat radiating off of him might burn you.

“Hunter,” you whispered… And his hand lowered from the wall to your cheek, cupping it gently and tracing down to your chin, thumb brushing feather-light across your lower lip. 

“I should back off, shouldn’t I?” he asked, and you felt as though you were about to explode. There were no words, just a sheer rush of passion that threatened to tear you apart. So you leaned forward, sliding your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, digging them into his back and pulling him into you, pressing your lips against his with a desperation that thoroughly gave you away. He breathed a chuckle against your mouth, the most satisfying sound you could have imagined, and parted his lips slightly to deepen the kiss and send you into complete oblivion. 

His hand slid around your head, gently cupping the base of your skull with a balance of firmness and tenderness, and your lips met again and again, fanning the flame of desire raging between the two of you. His nose pressed into your cheeks, arms flexing around you, drowning you in the sheer bliss of his presence. He pulled away for a moment, giving you a breath of air, and instead lowered his lips to your jawbone, then your neck, then your collarbone. You wrapped one hand around his waist, pulling his hip, and one hand roved into his hair, fingers winding through his wavy locks and clenching in a sudden fist. The guttural moan that escaped him in response goaded you on, and you used both arms to pull him against you as firmly as you could. 

A sharp cry of pain broke you apart, and you staggered back in shock and confusion, realization dawning on you as he bent over slightly, clutching his side with his free hand, breathing laboriously. You babbled your apologies, feeling rotten to the core for not remembering his injuries. He waved dismissively, slowly standing up with a grimace that faded into a grin. You stood there, staring at each other for a moment, awash with all that had just happened, until you rasped a coy suggestion. 

“Are you sure you don’t need help wrapping your thigh?” 

Oh lord, we did a smutty part two…

[just-wrting]

Best Friend?

Title: Best Friend?

Pairing: Real-life AU! Portgas D Ace x Reader

Summary: After finding out how horrible your brother is, you vent to your best friend. Turns out, he's been hiding something from you.

Word Count: 1657

Master List

A/N: Alright. I've done it. I've admitted that I'm into 2D men. This prompt is today's actual prompt due to this coming easier than yesterday's prompt. Still expect 2 fics in one day later this week.

The line between the two of you has been blurred for at least a few months. You’ve done things with Ace that you haven’t done with your other friends. Given that he lives next door, that was understandable. He’d stay for hours talking to you through the window. Other times, he’d sneak in and you’d watch movies together. The number of times you’d fall asleep leaning on him was uncountable.

Neither of you acknowledge this. You’re worried that if you say something, he’ll get grossed out. You don’t think you could stand losing such an important friend.

The sound of bickering drifts through your open window, and you know everyone is home. You wish you had their sort of bond. Your brother is your biggest problem, and you did your best to avoid him. Nothing would make you happier than him moving out.

Ace sometimes jokes about the two of you moving away from your siblings to a quiet place. While the idea is tempting, you both know that for now it’s just an idea. College is a struggle even without rent.

After the noise goes down, you watch Ace nearly slam his door shut. You can practically see steam rolling off him, and you know that the argument didn’t go in his favor. In an effort to cheer him up, you chuck a pebble at his window.

As soon as he sees you, he lights up. He throws his window open and gives you a big grin.

“(Y/N)! Don’t tell me you heard everything?”

The way the sun shines on his face makes him look radiant. He’s definitely a charmer.

“Nope. What was it about?”

He sheepishly looks away. “I don’t know what I’m going to eat. No one’s gonna cook anything since most of them are going out tonight.”

“Of course you were fighting over food. You three boys eat more than my whole family combined,” you say with a chuckle. “I’d offer for you to come over, but I’m sure that my brother would throw a fit.”

“Well let me know if you change your mind on that. You and I can go get something.”

Now you’re sporting an equally wide grin. “Tempting offer, Ace.”

“Just you, me, and some of the most unhealthy food you’ll ever see. I haven’t even taken Luffy or Sabo there.”

“Don’t tell them that. But as much as I want to, I shouldn’t. Maybe next time.”

Now, he’s pouting. Despite being an adult, he’s decently childish. In fact, he’s adorable when he’s like this and you can feel yourself caving. What would be so wrong to say yes? Why couldn’t you get the same privileges as your brother?

“You promise?”

“Of course. You know how difficult it is to say no to you,” you tease.

Your mom calls you downstairs, and you wave goodbye. Ace leans out his window, pouting the whole time. The guilt will bother you for a bit, but he’s never made you feel bad about not accepting plans.

You frown at the table spread. Dinner plans have changed, with food you don’t enjoy sitting on trivets. A smirk is plastered unpleasantly across your brother's face.

“How long have you been dating the neighbor boy? What’s his name?” your dad asks, setting the newspaper down. “Portgas Ace or something, right?”

You rest your hands on the back of your seat. “Ace and I are just friends.”

“Well, honey, it might be good for you to start dating. After all college is almost over,” your mom chimes in. “You’re only this young once.”

Your brother snorts. “Dating isn’t possible for that one I’m afraid. (Y/N) should’ve just said yes when Jeffery asked.”

Your blood turns to ice. “How did you know about that? He asked me not to tell anyone. I never even told my friends about it.”

He now looks like a deer in headlights. “Of course he told me. He’s gotta ask me first.”

“Yeah right. That was supposed to be some sort of prank, wasn’t it?” you hiss.

“You know what? Yeah! It was a prank. I figured that at the very least maybe you wouldn’t end up being single and pathetic.”

You don’t reply and just storm out the door. You make sure to slam it on your way out, and you’re tempted to swear at them. If your parents knew about it, they’re amazing actors. Their shock seemed almost genuine.

Not knowing where to go, you just start walking down the sidewalk. It doesn’t take long for footsteps to race after you. You ignore whoever it is, and keep going. It’s not until you’re spun around that you stop.

“Something wrong?”

You’ve never seen Ace look so worried. Part of you wants to have him hold you. Another part wishes he wouldn’t ask. Apparently the look on your face says enough.

“I’m still hungry. Wanna go get dinner now?”

You don’t say anything, instead just nodding. His hand is gentle as he gets you to the car. It’s an old car, but it’s comfortable and smells like him. The leather is surprisingly soft and you let yourself relax.

You watch Ace while he drives. There’s something about the wind in his hair and the sun on his skin that makes you realize just how attractive he is. The dusting of freckles across his face really highlights just how cute he is.

“Do you always watch people when they drive?” He gives you a cheeky smile and a wink. “Or am I just special?”

“You’re just special. Besides those brothers of yours, I don’t know a single person who can eat as much as you do and still look good.”

“Oh so I look good. That’s why you’re watching me.”

Rolling your eyes, you swat away his hand. “If you wanna believe that.”

Ace pulls into a little parking lot, swerving to avoid a hole. His parking is terrible, but it works. Ever the gentleman, he rushes to open the car door for you.

“I’d like to think that it's true. After all, you don’t usually give me compliments.”

The food is made fast, and the servings are surprisingly large. Despite how hot it is, Ace starts to pick at his food. He makes a face, yet continues to eat.

“If you’re gonna wait to eat, you wanna talk about it?” he asks, nearly choking on a French fry. “I’ll listen.”

“A couple of weeks ago, one of my brother’s friends asked me out.”

This time, he starts to cough. The man behind the counter eyes him for a second, but thankfully Ace is fine. You didn’t think he’d react like that, so you hesitantly start to eat as you wait.

“I told him I wasn’t interested. He asked me not to tell anyone, so I didn’t. Turns out the whole thing was a set up. After all, who’d wanna date me?”

Ace is silent. He occasionally looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he polishes off his food and starts to grab at yours.

“I can’t believe my brother would go that far. Like sure it can suck to have a sibling, but you and your brothers care so much about each other. Maybe it’s because you chose to be brothers.”

“To be fair, I still think Luffy is a crybaby. He’ll never live that one down no matter what he does.”

“Is there something terrible about me?” you ask. “Maybe that’s why no one wants to date me.”

Ace is quick to shake his head and respond, “There’s nothing bad about you! Anyone would be lucky to date someone like you, (Y/N).”

Before you can stop it, you blurt out the question you’ve been avoiding for weeks. “Would you date me, Ace?”

You can’t even look at him as silence settles between you. His finger taps against the table, and you feel awful. The way you said it was harsher than you meant. Not to mention the fact that your friendship could be over.

“Yes. I thought we already were dating though. I was just waiting for you to be ready to kiss me.”

Looking up at him, you can see a flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. Ace isn’t even looking at you, his head resting on his hand, turning his face away. He’s covering his mouth like he’s worried he’ll say something you won’t like. What little resolve he might have, crumbled the moment you make eye contact.

“I don’t let just anyone take my stuff or hug me or say weird things to me. I thought you’ve just been nervous this whole time.”

You think back to all of those slightly awkward moments. The times that he’d look up at you from the windowsill right before he sneaks back out, almost like he’s expecting a goodbye kiss. The moments that you’d pull him in for a hug and his hands linger even after you pull back. All of the pauses before he said your name, almost like he meant to say something else.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you prod. “If you thought we were dating, shouldn’t you have made it super obvious?”

“I thought you were taking it slow because you were scared of your family. I figured if I said something you’d break up with me.”

“So what do we do now? Even if you were wrong, do you actually want to date me? Officially?”

Ace looks more excited than you’ve ever seen him. His hand is quick to grab yours, and you’re sure if it wasn’t for the table he’d be kissing you, not that he doesn’t try.

“Now that it’s official, I’m gonna be the best boyfriend ever.”

For the rest of the night, his hand never leaves yours. Every opportunity to show you affection is taken, which leaves you flustered. Nothing makes you more nervous than having a cute guy kiss you.

[laelior]

Six Song Soundtrack Game

Tagged by absolutely no one but this looked fun so I'm doing it anyway. <3 Tagging (with absolutely no pressure!) @vela-ad-astra @vorchagirl @citadelsushi @shadoedseptmbr @hawkeykirsah @unicorn-farm @pigeontheoneandonly and @nerdyspeechy

Rules: If tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

Doing this for Peggy Shepard, Beth's badass grandma, because her story is a great one to tell through songs.

The short version:

1. An event that defines your character's past: Mountain Song - Flatland Cavalry 2. How your character sees themselves: Years - Sierra Farrell 3. How others view them: The Son Never Shines (on Closed Doors) - Flogging Molly 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic): The Story - Brandi Carlisle and You're Gonna Be - Reba McEntire 5. A major fight scene - God's Gonna Cut you Down - Johnny Cash 6. End credits song - The Garden - Sierra Farrell

Details and descriptions beneath the cut:

An event that defines her past: Mountain Song - Flatland Cavalry Pinyon perfume blowin' in the wind Time ain't a thing here, luck is my best friend Carryin' with me everythin' I own and who I am Pray to God, I see your face again Peggy Shepard (née Richwine)'s father died of cancer when she was 17. He was the only family she had and he had nothing to leave her but debt, which he tried desperately not to do to her. She had few options, so she decided to enlist in the UNAS Marine Corp as a means to escape poverty. She had only the clothes on her back when she joined. It turned out to be the most consequential decision of her life since she met her eventual husband, John Shepard, shortly after boot camp, which in turn influenced the path she took through life. In a more metaphorical sense, her sense of identity is rooted in her childhood in the Appalachian mountains, and she still feels strongly connected to that region in her 80s.

How she sees herself: Years - Sierra Farrell Those years, everybody knows you gotta let 'em go And they kinda roll by like tears Just a measure of time, playin' with your mind And passin' you by, those years Not to put too fine a point on it, but she's old. She's in her 80s, which by 2186 isn't quite as close to the edge of typical human lifespans as it is now (at least according to the Codex), but it doesn't stop her from feeling all those years. And at a certain point, you just have to roll with the punches and take the years as they come.

How others view her: The Son Never Shines (on Closed Doors) - Flogging Molly I saw her there from afar Her hair gray charcoal, takes a drag from her tar I kissed her a smile, but her blood-red shot eye Said the son never shines on closed doors Little old lady who is at once inscrutable and intimidating? Check and check. The song more fits her vibe than the lyrics, but there aren't a lot of songs out there about badass grandmas.

Her closest relationship: This one's a twofer, describing her relationship with her late husband, John, and her descendants by him. The Story - Brandi Carlise All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am Oh, but these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to It's true, I was made for you She was married to John for almost 50 years. They raised children and grandchildren together. They (figuratively) built their house together. They experienced so much of their lives together. So much of story of her life is rooted in what they had together before his sudden passing. He'll always be a part of her through what they built together. You're Gonna Be - Reba McEntire I'm afraid you'll have to suffer through some of my mistakes Lord, knows I'll be trying, oh, to give you what it takes What it takes to know the difference between getting by and livin' This applies equally to her granddaughter, Beth, and her youngest daughter, Jo. She's made mistakes as both a mother and a grandmother, but she's never not loved her children and their children with every single piece of her heart. What she wants for them is to have lives that being them happiness and meaning like she's had. Jo got there eventually, but Peggy worries that Beth never will.

A major fight scene: God's Gonna Cut You Down - Johnny Cash No specific lyrics, just vibes. It's a good song with a steady beat, minimal instrumentals, and strong chorus which reflects how she approaches combat: coldly, methodically, and without and ounce of pity of sentimentality. She didn't spent the better part of 50 years specializing in sniper weapons for nothing.

End credits song: The Garden - Sierra Farrell I'm livin' in the garden again Where I fall to my knees and work with a lamp And I keep on prayin' with two dirty hands I'm livin', yes, livin' in the garden again This one can be taken pretty literally. When the Reaper War rolls around, she's working in her garden and her fondest wish is to go right back to it when the war is over. And so help her god, the Reaper better not have so much as touched her flower beds. If the universe is kind to her, that's exactly how her story will end, with her planting more flowers in her garden while this song plays over the credits.