#since i made backstories for these ladies

[mask131]

There is a trope I really like when it comes to magic in fantasy, and it is the "inhuman wizard/witch".

In fantasy nowadays, the origin of magic mostly boils down to two things. On one side: "learned" magic. It is an art and knowledge you can learn, train and develop and anybody can be a wizard, witch, sorcerer, warlock, whatever. On the other side: you are born with your powers, magic is something inherent in you, that you cannot control.

But the third way is the trope I enjoy and I don't see it being brought up a lot: certain characters have magic because they are NOT human. (And I am not speaking of The Owl House style where witches are just a separate species, no, no no).

This trope is literaly as old as time, it being highlighted by folkloric, legendary and mythological characters like Merlin, Circe, Baba-Yaga, Vaïnamoïnen: most of the great enchanters and sorcerers of legend, most of the powerful witches of myth and folklore, were demigods, half-devil or even minor gods themselves. Being a wizard wasn't just a random business, and it wasn't just being born "special" - it was about belonging to an entirely different level of existence.

I do note that it is quite strange for this trope not to have gotten more of a success because it was a key part of THE great work of the fantasy genre, The Lord of the Rings, + The Silmarillion. In it the Five Wizards, the Istari ; but also Sauron (in his necromancer/sorcerer persona), and Melian (the closest thing Tolkien had to an enchantress or sorceress), are all applications of this trope. They literaly are Middle-Earth's embodiments of wizards, witches, enchanters and sorceresses, but they are such powerful magic users precisely because they do not "come from this world" but rather are divine spirits made flesh, angelic beings disguised as humans/elves, minor gods who bound themselves to these appearances. And yet, when you look at the many Tolkienesque imitators or renewers (Shannara, Belgariad, Wheel of Time, Fionavar Tapestry) they all insist on the wizards and witches being... human.

C.S. Lewis, in his Narnia books, also followed Tolkien's trope, by having his wizards be literal fallen stars stuck on Earth - a concept of "astral magic" that will be reused in works such as "A Wrinkle in Time" where the trio of planet-travelling witches are pointed out to have had previous existences as suns and other stellar phenomenon. Lewis' witches also originally were depicted as otherworldy, inhuman entities (half-giant half-jinn entity working as a sort of angel for the fantasy equivalent of God, giant demonic snake taking the shape of a lady) before he gave us a new Jadis backstory making her more "human", so to speak, or at least part of a neat and clear-cut species.

There's also Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, where the two great magic-users, Sheelba of the Eyeless Face and Ningauble of the Seven Eyes, aren't just hyper-powerful and very weird sorcerers, but also strongly implied (if not outright said) to be interdimensional alien entities.

This trope does creep up and shine in some fantasy works from time to time, but it is quite rare. A recent example I ABSOLUTELY adored is the Witch of Sarnwood, from "Kingdoms of Thorn and Bone". The trope is also used frequently in French fantasy (probably because it has closer roots with fairytales and medieval tales, where enchanters and witches are more inhuman) but since it probably won't evoke anything to people here I won't do a full list, just point out the character of The Enchanter in Michel Pagel's great "Les flammes de la nuit". (But it isn't very surprising given Pagel's work is part-Shakespearian fantasy, and Shakespeare was a famous user of this idea of "inhuman magic users", with his Weird Sisters from Macbeth, for example)

And of course, I have to speak about The Lich from Adventure Time, which is probably THE big highlight of this trope in modern day. The Lich is presented as, well, a manifestation of a D&D lich, as just your typical undead "evil lord sorcerer", but then as we move more and more down the story it is revealed he is literaly the embodiment and vessel of a cosmic force of destruction and mass extinction that dates back to the primordial monsters before time itself... This is notably such a Tolkienesque move, because I don't think I ever saw such a big character-exploration/twist reveal since Tolkien slowly revealed the Hobbit's Necromancer was Sauron, and then who Sauron originally was - in fact when you look at Youtube "lore videos" trying to piece out the background and evolution of the Lich, you will notice they do bear a striking resemblance to videos discussing the "Necromancer" of the Hobbit and how it ties to Sauron... Someone should one day point out all the Tolkienesque elements in Adventure Time, but that will be for another day.

Conclusion? It is quite fascinating to see how magic-users started out a lot of the time as these otherworldy divine or demonic beings, these inhuman forces that merely appear human somehow, but today people seem to REALLY like and REALLY prefer their wizards and witches to be human, and I guess relatable? The biggest example being the Harry Potter phenomenon, and even more recently the Owl House because while they are not "humans" per se, they are still basically an alternate humanity, instead of being stars in human masks or unique alien beings travelling time and space like Doctor Who.

(By the way, did you ever notice that Doctor Who was literaly designed to be a sci-fi version of the fantasy genre? If not, then I have another post to make... But yes, the Doctor is literaly an alien, sci-fi version of a wizard/sorcerer, down to the magic wand/sonic screwdriver.)

[galaxyofender]

You mentioned in your tags that Dawn doesn't have as much of a backstory as Selene does. Do you know how she got turned into a werewolf?

so. update. dawn has a bit more backstory now! im telling you it all sorry not sorry

place names are hard, but dawn was an orphan child on the capital of this kingdom (yet to get a name-) who gets taken in a member of the silverbloom hunter guild, group who dedicate themselves to hunting vampires and was originally founded in the honor of the weeping lady (the goddess of death of this world's pantheon, who despises the undead since they are a disgrace to her domain), even if not all members of silverbloom are that religious or followers of the weeping lady necessarily- but a good amount of them do follow this goddess

the hunter that took dawn in also took another child in, theodore, who dawn grows to be quite close to, seeing him like a brother, and another orphan who ended up becoming quite a devout follower of the weeping lady and very excited to join the hunter guild once he is old enough, he sees it that getting rid of such vermin in the eyes of his goddess is a great honor 

(theodore was bdubs in the original au, the goddess was originally cleo but weeping lady became merged with another goddess from an original pantheon that didn't have a world and doesn't resemble cleo that much anymore)

so, after several years of insisting that she joins too, theodore drags dawn to join the silverbloom hunters, even if she did have some doubts, and it's during a training hunt that dawn gets bitten by a werewolf 

dawn got lost from the path in the middle of the forest, did not realize it was a full moon, ran into a “weird wolf” and got attacked and bitten by it on the leg. she hides the bite from the rest of the trainees, and ends up joining the hunters 

the bite happens roughly four to five ish months before the start of the story, so dawn is pretty new to being a werewolf still and the quest to the town where dawn meets selene is the first proper one she gets sent to by silverbloom

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for telling my wife no?

My wife (35f) and I (38m) have been married for 12 years, dated for 3 before that. We have 3 kids (10m, 7f, and 5f). We both work full time in separate fields, she does some chemistry thing that I don't understand and I am a manager at a computer repair store my friend runs, and also a short story writer when its slow. She is definitely the breadwinner bill payer between the two of us, but I bring in the fun money for our family and would be completely listless if I didn't at least work part time. We also fully own our home because of her job.

Also, my parents watch the kids for us during the week when we are working. It's been this way since our son was born, and they've been doing it less since they are all in school. But it's free childcare, they refuse to accept money unless it's reimbursing for buying food.

Ok, now that all of that backstory is set, here's where the problem begins.

A couple of months ago my wife started pepper into conversations about a possible promotion coming up that would get her out of the lab and into a more "manage the lab team" position, with less dangerous hours for more pay. Ever since the first time she mentioned it I've been hyping her up and telling her she's a shoo in for the promotion, especially since she's been working there since her masters internship and now she has a PhD.

Last night she told me she was getting word today if she got it! After she left for work this morning I called my boss up and told him I couldn't come in today, and then told my parents the kids were saying with me. We spent the day cleaning the house, drawing congratulations cards, and making a congratulations banner. We also made a couple cards that say sorry and we love you for if she didn't get it. I was working on making her favorite dinner (lobster rolls with lobster bisque, because she's a fancy lady) when she got home earlier than normal. Everyone was surprised, because noone is usually home at this time and yet here everyone was. She got tears in her eyes seeing everything we were still working on, got down and hugged our two youngest, and said she got the promotion! Cheering all around! And that's when she dropped the bomb, saying we need to get a realtor in a state three away from us so we can relocate within the next two months.

I was stunned, and just said no, we arent moving for this promotion. In all of her talks she never mentioned that the promotion wasn't for the same location she's been at. All of our family is here, her parents and mine, all of our friends are here, my job is here. She insisted that she's mentioned relocating before but I swear she never did. That set of a completely new argument about never listening to her and only hearing what I want to hear, and how this will make it so I can stay home with the kids and not even need a fun money job. During this I noticed she was typing on her phone, and when I asked why she was multitasking an argument she said she was texting my parents to get the kids so they don't have to see this.

When my parents got here they congratulated her on the promotion and asked how long until we move.

She told my parents the promotion included relocation.

I'm typing this on the couch in the basement, because I can't face her right now. My parents knowing means she probably did say we would need to move if she got it. I don't want to move, I like my job, and our house. I like being near my parents. I know this would practically set us for life but I don't want to. I know I'm being selfish, and I know I must not be listening when she talks, but I still don't think she should accept the promotion. I still think no.

What are these acronyms?

[euthymiya]

help me forget (until my only memories are you) ft. wriothesley

in which wriothesley is plagued with dreams of his past, tucked away in the quietest corner of the fortress until you find him. a thermos of tea, an ocean view, and a heartfelt conversation later, you both decide your memories only matter when they’re of each other

contains: 2.1k word count ; female reader ; established relationship ; hints at wriothesley’s backstory, including mentions of blood and murder ; nightmares and trauma (wrio) ; reverse comfort ; fluff and (cheesy) banter

“thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you walk up to wriothesley—it’s quiet enough that’s it’s almost as if you’re trying not to startle him.

(and yes, it’s a bit of a pointless gesture. you know he can hear your footsteps approaching him for a good distance before you even reach him, but, all things considered, you don’t think a little extra gentleness will hurt him.)

“well, looks like you found me,” he hums, legs spread out before him as he stares through the glass. he’s eyes the ocean, his pupils following the schools of fish and casts of crabs as they swim past the glass tunnel that separates you from the water.

the glass tunnel in the fortress is wriothesley’s favorite spot. for a number of reasons, really—first, the inmates aren’t allowed here without official permission, so he has the area to himself for the most part. second, there’s some sort of sign of life to witness, something breathing and moving apart from the rowdy bunch of prisoners he’s in charge of every day. and third, it’s nice to see colors, something vivid and lively outside of rusted metal and dingy lighting.

wriothesley loves this tunnel. it helps him appreciate his life, his home, when he’s especially regretful he doesn’t get to live up at the surface. that regret doesn’t come very often—he’s happy with the life he’s made for himself and the family he’s grown here, but he’s only human.

sometimes even the warden would like to know what it feels like to wake up under the sun, feeling the rays kiss the skin of his cheeks like a mother does her son, so warm and gentle and endlessly filled with love.

he supposes a mother’s love is as unreachable as the sun for him, a regretful conclusion he’s long come to since the tender age of early teen hood.

you plop down beside him, tucking yourself against his side as you hand him a small thermos, making him quirk a brow up.

“tea,” you explain, “i figured it would help.”

“aren’t you sweet?” he chuckles, unscrewing the top and pouring the warm, freshly brewed tea into the lid as he takes a slow sip. he turns, pressing the rim to your lips, letting you take your own sip before he sighs and wraps an arm around you. “did i wake you?”

“of course,” you huff theatrically, “i was so cold. do you have any idea how cold the fortress gets at night without a big, strong, muscled warden to keep you warm?”

he snorts, eyeing you with an amused glance as you bite back your own grin.

“well, my dear lady, i offer my sincerest apologies. you will never wake up cold again.” he indulges your banter with a tight grin.

wriothesley is good at that—good at pretending his feelings don’t exist, pretending he doesn’t feel them in favor of putting on a brave face. you see through the tiny cracks of his mask, though. you can see the tousled hair and bruised under eyes from his lack of sleep. you can see the sore knuckles of his hands from punching bags. you can see the distant, hazy look in his eyes as he stares off into the never ending sea ahead, not sparing you the usual soft gaze he sends your way.

wriothesley is good at pretending everything is okay. just as good as you are at knowing when it isn’t okay at all.

“i’d rather i don’t wake up alone,” you trace the scar along his chest with a finger, visible from the neckline of the tank top he wears to sleep. he doesn’t say anything, swallowing as he swirls the contents in his makeshift cup, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “wriothesley.”

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i figured i’d let you sleep.”

“you don’t need to apologize,” you furrow your brows, hooking a finger under his chin and gently coaxing him to turn and meet your eyes, “i’m not mad, baby. it’s okay.”

“i know,” is all he says.

“will you talk to me?” your head lays against his chest, grabbing one hand and fiddling with his fingers, lacing them with yours as you compare the size of his rough, rugged palm against yours while his other hand lifts the cup to take a long, slow sip of the tea.

it’s hot against his throat, soothing the raw, dryness that builds.

“don’t i talk to your ear off enough through the day?” he tries to tease, deflecting the topic that you try to breach. but you’re good at following just as he is at running—you bring his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them one by one, so gentle, so feather like in touch, he can’t help but shiver.

“so you’re tired of talking to me?” you tease back, making his lips twitch fractionally.

“nah,” he breathes a small laugh, “never tired of you.”

“that’s good to know,” you exhale a relieved breath, still playful and lighthearted as you add, “i thought you were running away from me while i slept.”

“i’d have come back.” his voice is low, barely audible—you hear it anyway, feeling the rumble of his words through the vibrations in his chest. “you kick the blanket off. someone’s gotta tuck you in.”

“well you didn’t come back before i had to come find you,” you point out. “so tell me, what’s on that mind of yours? can’t be nothing if you leave me cold and alone in our bed.”

“just a silly old dream,” he shrugs off, laughing dryly as he says, “nothing a tough warden like me can’t handle.”

“oh yeah?” you press gently, leaning up to kiss his jaw with a delicate, warm press of your lips. it makes him swallow thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as he nods.

“yeah.”

“you don’t have to handle it,” you offer carefully, “not alone, at least. you know that, baby?”

“do i look that troubled?” he smiles weakly, but it drops as soon as your hand cups his cheek, pulling him to lean in until his forehead is pressed against yours and his eyes can’t leave their spot of looking directly at you.

“do you trust me?” you whisper. he nods, unable to speak. “i love you, you know.”

“i know,” he croaks. “i love you too.”

“so then talk to me.” your hand falls from his cheek to his chest, laying right on his heart while your other hand squeezes his as it keeps it in its hold.

so he does. with a shaky sigh, he tells you about them, the things he sees in his sleep.

sometimes, wriothesley has dreams. dreams of his mother brushing back his hair with her fingers as she wakes him for breakfast. dreams of his father patting his back as he throws a ball to one of his brothers. dreams of childlike, gleeful laughter ringing through his ears in a muffled, distant sound before it morphs into pained, horrified screams.

his legs carry him down the hallway of his childhood home, bare feet pounding against the hardwood until finally, he turns to corner into his living room. and there he stands—face to face with himself. one version of him in crumpled pajamas and another in oversized, scuffed up clothes like he’s drifted from street to street. he stares at himself, only he notices he looks older, more distant, more tired.

and then he notices the blood. it’s everywhere—on his hands, splattered on his face, dripped onto his clothes, pooled on the floor.

blood is everywhere. it coats the same floors he ran on, stains the same walls his height was marked against. it dirties every happy memory of this house of his, no longer a home.

w-what have you done? he asks his older self.

the boy—the one with his own face—glares down at him, so angry and betrayed, so unlike his happy self as he mutters, what had to be done.

and then he wakes up. he’s always covered in cold sweat, panting, and shuffled far, far away from your peaceful and beautiful sleeping figure. how can he wake you? how can he disrupt your pure, sweet state to wipe the blood spilt on his hands? how can he ask you to carry the heaviness of his sins when you’re so free and weightless from that darkness that plagues someone like him?

you listen as he spills his heart, quiet and unmoving against his side as your palm never leaves his chest. his eyes follow the movement of the fish outside of the glass while he speaks, and your eyes trace over the new red, angry marks on the back of his hand.

“just thought i’d come down here to clear my head,” he confesses, “you looked like you were tired.”

“i’d have woken you,” you admit, looking up at him. he meets your stare, furrowing his brows in confusion until you add, “if i had a bad dream, i mean. because you’re the only place i feel safe.”

he breathes out a soft chuckle, cheek laying on the crown of your head as he whispers, “it’s ’cause of the muscles, right? years of boxing will do that to a guy.”

“so what i’m gathering is that i have to take up boxing for you?” you grin, nudging him with your shoulder playfully as he bites his bottom lip to fight back his grin, shaking his head at your antics.

“i just don’t want to wake you every other night.”

“i want you to wake me every night if you have to,” you frown, reaching over and giving his forehead a reprimanding flick with your fingers, “it’s what i’m here for. what’s the point of being together if you’re going to be all alone, wriothesley?”

“i’m not alone,” he argues, lifting your joined hands before his warm lips press a lingering kiss to the back of an equally as warm hand. “i have you.”

you blink, staring at him blankly. “you just kissed your own hand, you fool.”

“right,” he nods, flushing a slight shade of pink before he twists his wrist to kiss the proper hand, “it was on purpose. it’s self love and all that good stuff, you know?”

“uh huh,” you lift a brow, snorting as you shake your head. he gives you a sly wink, leaning down to kiss your lips briefly as you shuffle closer against his side. “you know,” you breathe against his lips, “sometimes we dream about our pasts because our minds want to change something about them.”

“oh? i suppose i could think of a thing or two to change about mine. maybe a happy childhood. maybe the ability to trust people. that’d be nice, don’t you think?”

“i would change mine,” you admit, making him stare at you for a moment as he ponders over your words.

“would you now? and what would you change?”

“i’d meet you sooner,” you hum, “we could be like the cute stories, you know? childhood friends turned destined lovers. wouldn’t that be sweet?”

he looks at you quietly for a bit—dazed, awed, slightly bewildered. you couldn’t possibly want to know a guy like him in your youth, he thinks. how utterly foolish. but there’s no denying that unbearable, pressured clench of his heart, right where only you can reach to squeeze.

“of all stories,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s what you want for yourself? childhood friends to lovers with a premeditated homicide convict that reforms a prison in his adulthood?”

“a traumatized homicide convict,” you correct, “that’s the part that gives it nuance, you know?”

“oh, you’re right,” he nods sarcastically, “how silly of me.”

“don’t laugh at me,” you huff, pouting at him as you poke his chest, “i’m serious. i’d meet you sooner if i could.”

“me too,” he murmurs, pecking your lips in a wordless apology. you accept with a soft kiss of your own in return. “i’d have met you way sooner too, sweetheart.”

“maybe you’ll dream it some day,” you wink cheekily.

“let’s hope i do,” he laughs, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back to his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs in content. “you’re the only place too, by the way,” he adds after a few moments, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers the words.

“hmm?” you tilt your head in confusion, gasping when his arms wrap tightly around you, his face burying into your neck as he presses a tickling kiss into your skin.

“where i feel safe.”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling slightly in wonder, “good. then you’ll wake me next time?”

“will it keep you warmer in this cold, unforgiving fortress of ours?”

“oh yes,” you nod, giggling lightly. “very warm.”

he smiles into your skin, replacing the vivid images of blood in his mind with the soft hues of your eyes. “then i suppose i have no choice but to wake you.”

childhood friends to lovers with wrio where reader flips neuvillette off and marches down to the fortress and drags wrio back up to the overworld by the wrist when he’s convicted bc she makes the rules around these parts

jk i love you neuvi my sweet angel dragon

[myfirstandlast]

made my first dnd character yesterday :DD

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Nightcrawler/GN!Reader

kdhbcjshbc I know I said I was gonna work on my Wolverine fic rn but I got sidetracked. This was originally going to be one long ass fic but since the first half ended up already over 4k works I decided to split it into two! It's basically a friends to lovers fic and I know the beginning is a bit of a jumpscare but they're both adults by the end of the fic I promise!! Edit: I totally forgot to add!! Another special thanks to @blue-devil-of-the-lord for their help with german translations!

Tws: Mentions of animal cruelty in the circus. The ringleader is an asshole. I might have made Kurt's brother a bit of an asshole too sorry. Kurt's backstory is going to be kinda a combination of all the shit I've read/know so please be patient lol. I'll go back and add more tags if I think of any.

    You were sixteen when you first met Kurt Wagner, although, he went by Kurt Szardos back then. You had never been to the circus before, and you hadn’t really paid to be there anyway. The show had already started when your father had taken you into the tent, sitting you down in an absent seat near the front. You didn’t want to get in trouble, but he had assured you it was fine. He had business to attend to, and told you that his future employer had given his blessing for you to sit and watch as your father handled business. After all, the two of you were a combo deal, and if you were to be working for the circus, you might as well know just what you were getting yourself into.

    The circus tent was loud with laughter and the sounds of an awed crowd. It was a little overwhelming, to be honest. There were simply too many voices, too many lights- and yet when you finally set aside your grievances to try and enjoy the show, you still struggled.

    The monkeys were annoyed with their handler, and every shout towards the crowd was an insult. The lion was young, and still afraid he wouldn’t make the jump through that vicious ring of fire- still healing from the burns he earned by brushing against the flames during the last performance. The doves from the magician act were a bonded pair, rejoicing the time and attention they were being given in the spotlight- and yet the male was already dreading their moments after the show and the dark, dirty cage they would kept in. The female was trying her best to cheer him up. Every animal was unafraid to keep their voice down, and you had never heard animals speak so loudly before. Part of you wonders if it was simply because they were so used to being ignored, they had grown used to letting their voice free- speaking from the heart and yet always being unheard.

    You didn’t like this part of the circus much- and although the tricks these animals did were beautiful and amazing, you couldn’t manage to enjoy it like all the others around you did. You were frowning while all others were smiling and laughing so joyously- perhaps that was what drew him to you in the first place. 

    “And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present-” All but one of the spotlights have started to circle around the tent, the ringmaster standing completely within the only lingering light. “Our Flying Fiend… the Daredevil Demon… The one and only, Nightcrawler!” Every moving spotlight lands on a single man standing on one of the high beams. He’s smiling so brightly that you can see it from where you stand feet below him. He’s… strange. Elf-like ears, yellow eyes, and blue skin. A pointed tail sways eagerly behind him, and he takes a deep bow in front of you. His yellow eyes peer open as he does so, and for a moment, you swear he looks straight at you. You’re not entirely sure if he was wearing a costume or not anymore. 

    The performance starts out with one hell of a beginning. Every flip and jump is an incredible act of athleticism- and you find your eyes following Nightcrawler throughout every trick. Two other acrobats join the fray, and yet he’s the only one who catches your eye. At one point, they bring out these long swings- ones that sweep right above the audience with every swoop. There’s one swing for every side of the audience- and the acrobats switch with a dramatic flare every few swings. 

    On the very last switch, Nightcrawler is the one who swings over your seats. 

    He’s much more handsome up close, you realize, blushing even where you are now. You swear with every swing, he’s looking at you. It makes your heart flutter a bit, and on the very last swing of the night, he takes out a rose, pretending to throw it to multiple groups of screaming fans, before he swings again with a dramatic flair. Unlike the other times, he’s holding onto the swing with his feet and tail. He’s so close to the audience without touching a single hair on anyone's head- and then he gets to you.

    You could have sworn that time had slowed, no matter how quickly it happened. The two of you finally lock eyes, and his hand stretches out. The rose falls into your lap, the air whooshing by your face as he’s gone just as quickly. You pick up the flower, a genuine smile finally on your face, and you find that all the other voices of excitement around you have finally drowned out.

    That was the first and last time you had watched the show at Herr Getmann's Traveling Menagerie. After that, you and your father were behind the scenes instead of in the stands. 

    It had been about a week and a half since you and your father had been walking to the circus to work. He knew every path and every road like the back of his hand, insisting the two of you walk instead of drive to save money on gas, and he just so happened to know a few shortcuts through the woods. Usually, you were able to rely on him to guide you, but today you woke up late. Your father had already left without you- which you’re not entirely sure wasn’t intentional. He did leave a note for you, giving you instructions on how to get there on your own. 

    Needless to say, that didn’t actually work out too well. A thirty to forty-five-minute walk had quickly turned into an hour, and then an hour in a half. You were trying your absolute best to follow the instructions, but this was hardly a cohesive path in the middle of the woods. It wasn’t exactly easy.

    You’re beginning to give up at this point, stumbling through the brush as you try to find the general direction you think you’re supposed to be going. Your feet have started to ache and blister, and you find yourself beginning to lose hope.

    “Hello!” If the sound of the voice hadn’t scared the shit out of you, the strange man hanging upside down from the branches of a wild Crab apple tree certainly did. You shriek in terror, your feet slipping as you fall back on your butt. You hold your hands over your heart as the strange acrobat from the circus jumps down in a panic, holding his even stranger hands out in front of him.

    “Oh- Es tut mir Leid! I am so sorry! I had not meant to startle you!” He says frantically, kneeling down to help you up in a very gentlemanly manner. You’re wide-eyed as you look at him, letting him help you up without a fuss. Up close and in broad daylight like this, it was very clear that he certainly was… Blue, to say the least.

    “I-it’s okay.” You stutter. He smiles warmly at you, tail swaying excitedly behind him, and it simply confirms to you that he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. You open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find some words. He blinks at you as you do so, patiently (if not obliviously) waiting for you to speak.

    “You’re from the circus, aren’t you?” Is what you finally land on, still a little startled from before. The acrobat nods eagerly.

    “I am. I'm happy that you remember me! I’ve been told I leave a bit of an impression.” He jokes, and you find yourself smiling again. He was charming, for someone so strange. “The farrier is your father, right?” He asks, taking you by surprise. You didn’t think that anyone had taken the time to notice you, your father’s shadow in every sense of the word. It makes you feel a little funny, but surely he didn’t remember you from that first performance, right? Maybe he’s just very observant of those who come in and out of the circus stables. 

    “Well, yes.” You affirm, starting to anxiously fiddle with your fingers. “I didn’t really expect you to know who I was, to be honest.” He lets out a happy chuckle at that.

    “Of course, I know! A face like yours is hard to forget.” He chirps, sending you a wink. “But I must say, You’re a bit far from the circus, Meine Freundin.” You make a bit of a grimace at that, and he sends you a questioning smile.

    “Yes, well… To be frankly honest, I’m a bit lost.” You admit, eyes locked solely on the ground, taking the time to notice the various fruits that had fallen from the tree and gone bad. You can see the acrobat’s tail swaying in your peripheral vision, and still feel his eyes on you. It makes you blush a little from embarrassment, a little flustered that you had become so lost.

    “I’ll gladly show you the way, I was just about to go back myself.” Your head snaps up to look at him in bewilderment at that, before you realize just how lucky you are to have found him out here. He picks up a basket of crab apples that you hadn’t noticed before, and you offer to carry it for him as a thanks for guiding you back. He won’t let you no matter how hard you try, certainly the first gentleman you’ve met in quite a while. He tells you that your profuse thanks is more than enough for him.

    The two of you get to talking while you make the long walk back to the circus, and he tells you about his mother, Margali Szardos, and how she had asked him to wander over this way to pick the fruit from the crab apple tree for her. She was fairly adamant about him doing so, telling him that it was of great importance, but he didn’t quite understand why fruit could be such a pressing matter. He’s very funny, and you find yourself greatly enjoying his company. The two of you feel like close friends already, and you hadn’t even realized that you didn’t even know his real name until you’ve already arrived at the plethora of brightly colored circus tents.

    “I’m so sorry, I don’t believe I ever asked for your name.” You say, the awkwardness of the question not even registering with how happy you are to simply be in his company. He sends you another dazzling smile before he holds his hand, offering it for you to shake.

    “I’m Kurt.” He tells you. You introduce yourself as well, happy to have made a new friend today. You hear someone calling your name from not too far away, and spot your father waving his hand at you, calling you over.

    “I have to go, but thank you so much for your help!” You say, once again thanking him adamantly.

    “Walking with you was lovely. I hope to see you more often.” Kurt says, right before you go. You can’t help but blush a little, unable to keep yourself from smiling widely. You couldn’t help it! He was just so handsome in both looks and personality, the strangeness of his skin color and three-fingered hands being something you easily begin to care less and less about.

    “Likewise.” You agree, almost completely flustered. Your father calls for you again, and you quickly say your goodbyes before you rush off to him. You find yourself in a rather good mood for the rest of the day, despite your sore and blistered feet from the long journey here.

    Many months flew by very fast while you and your father worked for the circus, and you and Kurt had grown very close. He visited you when he could sneak away from practice and performances, and although you were more concerned about him staying out of trouble, you began to appreciate the company beyond the way a simple friend would, finding yourself blushing and flustered while around him.

    A fact that hadn’t changed throughout your time there was the treatment of many of the animals. All of them had a grievance or problem of some sort, and it broke your heart to have to stand by without the ability to help them. In the eyes of the circus, you were just the Ferrier’s assistant, nothing more. At first, you were, in the very least. Some of the animal trainers had noticed how good you were with the horses, and how even the most skittish of the equine animals would calm around you and let you handle them without any trouble. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, and soon enough many of the animal handlers had heard about your “gift” with the live attractions. Part of this was due to your Father’s constant bragging about your special skill with animals, although you were the only one who knew the truth about it all. After a while, the frustrated animal trainers began to ask you to assist them with the other animals as well, noting how it hadn’t taken very long before they were at ease around you. The size of cages and the attitudes of the trainers were something you couldn’t change very much, but even if you could only help out with a few things here and there, you were happy- and the animals were too.

    Today, you were doing your best to handle an absolute disaster. 

    Tonight’s animal show was a new set, with lots of loud noises and the pops of fireworks launching far, far above the tops of the tallest tent. With so many new lights and colors, they should have known something was bound to go wrong- and boy, did it. The smallest pony in the show was a stunning Blue Roan mare named Bubbles- and unlike many of the other mares in the show, she was very skittish. Her trainers mostly knew to be careful around her, but that consideration slipped under the radar when it came to all the new changes. Her show went by relatively seamless, with only a few issues here and there- but it was enough to put her on edge. When the fireworks finale went off as she was being led out of the main tent, it was just her last straw.

    I don’t like them. I don’t like the loud noises. Bubbles is pacing anxiously in the back of her tiny stable, still having trouble settling down. Every bump or noise from outside and even the neighboring stables sends her spiraling again. You’re standing at the gate, giving her a cautious amount of room to pace and worry so that she doesn’t feel trapped by you. 

    “I know, Bubbles, It’s okay.” You whisper. You’re so concerned for her, and angry with her trainers, too. It makes your blood boil to remember how one of them had gotten frustrated with her tonight, eventually giving up on settling her completely and thrusting her reins at you, telling you to “take this stupid thing somewhere else!”. The lack of patience and understanding makes you rage, but you know you can’t say a thing if you want to keep this opportunity to work with the animals.

    Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so scared. I’ll do better, I promise. Bubbles says again. The words almost bring tears to your eyes, hurting for her. You hate seeing her so scared.

“Hey, hey. Easy, I’m not mad at you, I promise. You’re safe with me, okay?” You tell her, starting to slowly approach her as her pacing begins to slow. She whinnies once, huffing as she tries her best to calm herself down. Eventually, she begins to settle, letting you get close enough to reassuringly pet her nose and flank. She leans into the comforting touches, finally beginning to relax after being high-strung for so long. The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a minute, enjoying each other's company as you hear the sounds of the circus begin to dwindle and die.

     I’m sorry for all the trouble. Bubbles apologizes quietly.

    “You haven’t been any trouble, Bubbles, I promise.” You say soothingly. “Do you want to talk for a bit before I go?” She nods her head, and that’s all the answer you need.

    The two of you talk for a long, long while as you take off her tack and brush her down, pampering her as you ready her for bed. You talk about food, trainers, the new horseshoes she’s getting next week- anything at all. Even Kurt comes up in conversation, eventually.

    I like him. She says decisively. He sneaks me leftover apples. You can’t help but giggle at that, already having a hunch that he had been giving the horses treats while no one was looking. Not that you really mind, it was nice to know that they had someone other than you and your father looking out for them.

    “I agree. He’s very nice.” You say, smiling brightly. She noses you in response.

    I think he likes you, too. You instantly blush at her words, shaking your head at her with a flustered smile. You honestly doubted he saw you as much more of a friend, even if the two of you have had somewhat sensitive moments sometimes.

    “I really don't think-”

    “Guten Abend!” You can’t help but shriek at the greeting, knowing just who it was as you whip around in the stable, spotting Kurt leaning against the gate with a cheesy smile.

    “Kurt! You have got to stop scaring me like that!” You scold, throwing the dandy brush at him. He pretends to be wounded, holding a hand over the spot it hit him dramatically as he laughs.

    “I’m sorry. Seems I couldn’t help myself.” Kurt says, and you lightly slap his arm again for good measure when you can reach him, trying and failing to keep yourself from smiling at his antics.

    “You could have startled Bubbles. It took forever for me to get her settled after the show today!” You scold him again, smile not letting up for a second. Kurt smiles a little nervously at that before he looks behind you to see the completely unbothered Bubbles.

    He wouldn’t have- I saw him come in. She says. You wave her off discreetly. That’s not the point, Bubbles! But even without being able to understand her, Kurt seems to get the hint that she wasn’t even a tad bit bothered and jumps the gate with such ease you can’t help but be a little jealous of his athleticism. 

    “Then I’ll apologize to you too, Bubbles.” Kurt cooes, lavishing her forehead and muzzle with pets and kisses that she happily receives. You watch him with a smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. You knew you were absolutely gone on him, this little crush of yours having developed into true and deep feelings of affection. But how could you not? Even watching him right now it’s clear to see the kindness and support he gives to every living thing regardless of status or species. That meant more to you than you think he might ever know.

    “How was it out there?” You ask eventually, leaning against the side of the stable.

    “So-so. The crowds have started to react less to our sets. Mother says that we’ll get better reactions if we change the performance a little.” Kurt shrugs, tail tucked tightly around his own waist- something you noticed he did every time he entered the stables so that he wouldn’t startle the horses with the snake-like limb. You frown, eyebrows furrowing at the news. You knew that they had been trying some new things for the animal shows, but the acrobatics had always been so incredible and immaculate. It’s strange to you that anyone would look on at that part of the show with a straight face.

    “And how does Ringmaster Getmann feel about that?” You ask. Bubbles huffs through her nose angrily at his name, and you join Kurt by her side, petting her shoulder. You can see that Kurt is frowning, not responding to your question as his eyes stay squarely on Bubbles. 

    “...Kurt?” You’re really worried for him now, knowing that the look on his face can only mean that nothing good will come of it.

    “It’s nothing for you to worry over.” Kurt responds after a minute. “He wants us to do riskier tricks, but Mother keeps telling him it’s not the best idea. He’s rather adamant about it though.” His voice is soft while he delivers the news, and it makes you wonder how on earth he’s not angry about the blatant disregard for both his and his adoptive siblings’ safety.

     I knew I had a good reason to hate that man! Bubbles speaks angrily as she flicks her tail, Kurt being the only reason she hadn’t bucked or stopped in frustration. Your worry begins to deepen as you think everything over.

    “I- You won’t get hurt, will you?” You ask, worry clearly spilling into your tone. “The animal injuries are already bad enough, but if he starts risking human lives-”

    “I’ll be fine, Schatz.” Kurt cuts you off, stepping away from Bubbles to take your hands in his own. The nickname had a tendency to make your heart flutter, but right now all you could feel was the anxiety of an impending disaster. “Please don’t worry for me.” He tells you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. You’re breath catches at the act, and when you look at him there's a fond, reassuring look on his face. Still, it did not ease your worries in the slightest. Kurt takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your face now instead.

    “I can’t help it. I worry because I care.” You whisper. Kurt smiles softly at you, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, reveling in the fond moment. Still, your lips tingled with how close the two of you are, eyes darting down to the shape of his lips as you ran your tongue across your own. Kurt’s pretty eyes don’t let the action go unnoticed. He begins to lean in to close the gap between the two of you, and your eyes flutter closed as he does so.

    “Kurt.” The voice startles the two of you, separating immediately. It’s Stephan, Kurt’s adoptive brother. He’s not only startled you and Kurt, but Bubbles too. She spooks in the tiny stables, rearing up before you immediately turn to her, doing your best to calm her down once again. She’s breathing a little hard, but she’s not pacing again, which was much better than before, although you were certainly peeved to have backtracked already.

   “You know you’re not supposed to linger around the stables after the show,” Stephan says to Kurt, who only frowns. The two had begun to form a rather strained relationship as of late, but neither of you would have expected him to go out of his way to catch Kurt like this. You glance back at them as you finish settling Bubbles, staying silent as the two of them share a look. Kurt’s tail sways a bit, and you can see Stephan roll his eyes at Kurt before he nods his head to the door and begins to leave. Kurt sighs deeply before he turns to you with a remorseful look.

    “I’ll see you soon- promise,” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You’re frowning, unable to help it at this point due to the moment being ruined. Kurt leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead before he leaves, and you smile a bit. He gives you another quiet goodbye before he jumps the gate again, and follows his brother out.

    You're left standing there with Bubbles, and despite Kurt’s promises, you have an uneasy feeling in your chest. You want to blame it on the disappointment of the night, but you can't help but wonder when you'd actually get to see him again.

[teatreeoilll]

𝐎𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

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w/c - 1.2k content - MDNI! 18 + , fem!reader, porn with lil backstory, oral (m!receiving), nobody's really objecting to this lol

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The second-floor bathroom of the Tokyo District Court always smelled like bleach. No one could entirely solve the mystery of why the cleaning lady always spilled more than a gallon of it on the white-tiled floor of that specific bathroom - but it was precisely why Higuruma Hiromi preferred to fuck in it. And after a long day at court, you didn't mind it much either.

Hiromi nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses against the exposed skin like he knew made you shudder. "Fuck," You tighten the grip your fingers hold on his hair, "That was terrible."

"Huh?" You feel his confused, warm breaths at your neck, debating what he'd done that was so wrong.

"I said it was terrible, Higuruma," you mutter, mind still occupied with the trial, "This old prick Saito has the hots for your client, so he won't even look at our evidence."

"You shouldn't call the purveyor of justice an old prick. Besides, could you not mention him when were - " He presses another gentle kiss on your neck, "having a moment here?"

"Why not?" You chuckle, "The toupee doesn't do it for you?"

Hiromi lets out a snort before his face falls on your shoulder, laughing. You almost forgot he could laugh. Your heart flutters as his body trembles against yours, shaking you along with it.

It shouldn't make your heart flutter. You promised - it's strictly professional in court and strictly physical after it. Neither of you had the time for the things that come with a fluttering heart and an earnest laugh.

He breaks away from you, his hands still resting on your thighs where he let them run under your pencil skirt when he first pushed you against the bathroom stall door. His cheeks flush red, and a small smile still unusually graces his lips. Another flutter, fuck.

You can't help it, running a hand up to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. "Haven't seen you laugh in a while," you admit, feeling the warmth of his skin under the soothing movements of your thumb, "You're the only one in our class who didn't stray away from the righteous path."

Righteous. Higuruma hated that word coming out like that, it made morality sound miserable. Right would be a better word, but it would mean you were on the wrong path - and he couldn't bring himself to tell you that.

He fights the urge to let his head fall into your palm, and the light quickly leaves his eyes, "Objection, your honor," he says, "the prosecution is leading the witness."

"Accepted," you sigh, removing your hand from his cheek to move it along the fabric of his shirt down to unbuckle his belt, eliciting a quiet gulp from Hiromi. "Sorry," you mutter as you get down on your knees, your hands working on the zipper of his trousers.

"Don't - " his words are cut off by the rush his body gets from your hand rubbing against his rapidly hardening erection through his boxers, "Apologize," he breathes. You look up at him, and he thinks he might come just from your big doe eyes staring at him while you pull down his boxers, freeing his cock to wrap your fingers around it.

It's his favorite sight. It's been that way for years. Since the first exam season in law school, when you turned to him and said he looked like a good study partner. He knocked on your dorm room door with his hands overflowing with textbooks, only to drop them when you opened it with nothing but a towel wrapped around your body. "It's good to get the blood flowing to your brain first," you said.

"Fuck - " He hisses when your lips wrap around his tip, his hand jolting to press against the stall door to hold himself steady while the other hand finds its way to your hair, digging his fingers into it.

You don't take your eyes off the way his face twitches with pleasure, hollowing out your cheeks as you bob your head on his length. "Shit - you're so - " he groans, lost in the feeling of the wet heat engulfing him as you quicken your pace, letting the saliva run from the corners of your mouth, "beautiful, fuck - " his hand runs to where you hollow your cheeks, lingering there so he could feel himself inside your mouth.

You place a hand on his thigh to steady yourself, feeling the shake in his legs every time the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You pull back from his cock with a lewd 'pop', taking in a sharp breath before flicking your tongue against the flushed tip of his cock to lick the beads of precum forming there. His knuckles go white when his fingers try to dig into the stall wall.

"God," he moans when you wrap your lips around his cock again. He holds his hips steady, trying not to gag you as he brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, "I love you."

You stop. His cock is still halfway in your mouth when you look up at him, but he knows what you want to say, We don't say that, Hiromi. His eyes widen, large apologetic brown orbs that stare down at you as you resume your pace, pulling up a hand to stroke the part of his length that doesn't fit in your mouth.

His face grows hot, fuck. His cock twitches inside your mouth, and you smile against it for a moment before your swollen lips tighten their grip around it to suck him hungrily. Fuck it, he thinks as his heart races, and he bucks his hips to reach deeper into your throat, "I love you," he moans, chasing his release, "fuck - I love you."

Your stomach turns at his words, the heat rushing to warm your cheeks, and you're desperate to hear these words leave his mouth again and again as your fingers dig deeper into his thigh as you let out soft moans that vibrate around his cock.

He doesn't manage to give out any warning when his muscles tense, his mouth half open with a quiet "I love you," leaving his lips followed by breathy moans of your name as you gagged on his release flooding your mouth.

"S-Shit, I'm sorry - " Hiromi pulls out from your mouth, his hand gently cupping your face. Your teary eyes still pointed at him as you wiped the remainder of his seed from the corners of your lips.

You get up from your knees as he fixes himself back in his trousers, "Hiro," you mutter, and his breath hitches. You never call him that, so that's it, fuck.

"Listen - I - " He stutters.

"Isn't the guy supposed to be on his knees when he says that?"

"Huh?" His heart about to burst from his chest.

"Isn't the - ah, never mind," you chuckle, "how about you buy me a coffee?"

He'd buy you a house if you asked him, "Sure," he says, pausing for a moment, "I do - love you, you know?"

A blush creeps to your cheeks, "I know, just - " you sigh, "I - uh," a speechless prosecutor, that's a first, "I love you too." Coffee won't cut it, I need a drink.

[eliotbaum]

Them³. 

Some people expressed interest in the backstories & relationship between these characters so it’s under a cut. Beware, it’s full of Vallaki spoilers and. very long……. 

Lydia Petrovna/Fiona Wachter/my pc Father Dunant

Alright so, a not-so brief overview of each individual’s background and where their stories meet. Mind you, that is everything I currently know about the characters, and I'm pretty sure Lady W is still hiding something.

Lydia Petrovna has always been a frail, meek-hearted woman, but with a kind soul. For what she lacked, her best friend from ever since made up for it; Fiona Wachter was everything she ever wanted to be. Strong, assertive and with force of will. 

But Lydia also desired her in a different way, one that went beyond friendship and admiration. Fiona was not aware of those feelings and pursued Nikolai, while Lydia fell for Vargas, despite Fiona’s warnings and wishes for her not to do so. It fell on deaf ears, as Vargas seemed like a genuinely kind man. Suffice to say to those who played the game: the good qualities Lydia loved disappeared over time and he ended up emotionally abusing her, smothering her in a way where she completely lost who she was. Lydia was always desperate to help others despite her constitution and lack of powers or influence, so she thought putting on a bright face and encouraging the "all will be well" ideology would suffice. But she suffered greatly under it, too, coping with solitude and drug/alcohol abuse. Regardless, she kept holding onto hope, believing a better tomorrow will come one day. 

Vargas growing more paranoid of everyone ended up manipulating Lydia into believing Fiona and her husband were not to be trusted. And with Lydia’s facade steadily replacing what Fiona loved about her, ultimately drove the friendship to a breaking point after decades.

Fiona Wachter received a prophecy from an oracle (Madame Eva) while she was a young lady. The prophecy foretold of an outsider coming into Vallaki to bring great ruin, but his blood would also bring back sunlight to the town. She believed in this prophecy ever since, all the while pledging allegiance to Ravenloft as a family tradition, which earned her conflicting powers. On one hand, she could perform miracles and harm with radiance, on the other she received darker powers from her pledge. As such, she is also caught between two fronts — wishing for sunlight to shine upon the lands again while serving Ravenloft as is her family tradition. (This is something my PC challenges her with a lot)

This was all kept secret from her best friend as Fiona had always been a cautious woman. Fast forward to her strained relationship with Lydia that broke apart during Nikolai's early death. 2 years before the campaign starts, he died of an illness, and when Fiona turned to Lydia for comfort she didn't receive it. Lydia pretended like everything was fine still, and tried to deflect any mourning or sadness with Vargas’ messed up ideology. Suffice to say, Fiona felt betrayed, bereft, in more ways than one. And then, her daughter, who was to be betrothed to Viktor Vallakovich, Lydia's son, went mad after prolonged contact to Viktor. Fiona went scorched earth and planned an assassination on Vargas ever since.

In comes my lil guy! Father Kasper Dunant, a humanitarian priest always striving to be virtuous, to be of help, but who leaves calamity in his wake for whenever he tries to do good. Up to a point where experimentations with blood healings destroyed his hometown, (if this sounds like Bloodborne. big inspo haha) and he fled — only to get trapped in another ruinous and cursed place. In Vallaki, he helped with the St. Andral church and Father Lucian, Lydia's brother. Vargas also took a liking to him, which resulted to Kasper and Lydia growing closer. He was attracted to her gentle heart, her kindness he found beyond her facade. They became light in each other's darkness. 

Meanwhile, Fiona Wachter invited him & the party, intrigued by hearing of outsiders. She had hoped they could be part of her prophecy, and she intended to more or less rope them into her assassination plans. Now this being conflicting with many values and relationships our characters built, the party took a "safer" angle, in which we removed the biggest threat (general Strazni) from town and saved townspeople during riots following the assassination; Lydia being among those saved, who they hid away at the Martikov’s tavern. Lydia, who had fallen for Kasper early on, held onto him as she had lost almost everything (Vargas assassinated, Viktor teleported away) and they both found new hope, comfort and love in eath other. 

And in a way, Fiona also freed Lydia of the shackles of her abusive marriage.

Fiona would've taken charge of Vallaki had it not been for Kasper's suggestion to establish a council instead of a single ruler. Consisting of him, Fiona, Vasili (completely different character in our game and not secretly, yknow), a homebrew NPC and Ireena. Fiona and Kasper started to develop this dynamic of push and pull, feeling for how much they can trust and work each other with their opposing views in terms of politics and Ravenloft. But they had one moment where they forged a bond; Kasper, a blood cleric, summoned a mock sun through 'Daylight' for her (my flavor is that he spills blood for some spells). 

Voila, exactly what her prophecy foretold. She understood it wasn't real, but Kasper promised her to bring true sunlight back to Barovia. In a moment of fervor, Fiona suggested they could rule the town, the country together.

They are still very cautious but enjoy the tension and mystery they have about each other. Lydia, in the meantime, has been growing conflicting feelings about Fiona. While she was certain old feelings have been put to rest, the things Kasper tells her of Fiona seemingly awakened something again. There's a lot of guilt and hurt there, though, muddled with affection, and Lydia is sorting out her feelings still.

Meanwhile, Fiona still resents Lydia for her weakness. It was always clear how much Fiona cared for Lydia, repeatedly challenging her to put down this mask, to be herself again. And being hurt by seeing her friend lose herself so easily.  It's bitter, but Kasper has been meekly trying to calm the waves, to little avail so far. 

It is, A Mess to say the least, and Kasper together with Lydia have been growing concerns and worry for Fiona’s safety and ultimately, herself, since she changed so much, became so much darker since her husband’s death. But those two idealists hope there is still a chance to save her 🥺💦

tl;dr young outsider priest becomes entangled in noblewomen’s personal drama while both believe the gods and fate has sent him their way as he tries to mend a broken relationship 

[fandangotales]

Head empty just

Sagau but readers cellphone now has infinite battery for some reason and theyre on tiktok and watching genshin edits until one of the acolytes sees and gets curious so reader shows everyone the edits made for then

Zhongli: why am i........geo grandpa

Xiao: morax isn't my father

Yae: what is an........Eiussy and why do these humans want it so bad

Venti: (trying to force scara to have anemo vision after seeing the sad scaramouche edits) BUT THE EDITS, YOUR BACKSTORY IS SCREAMING AIR BOY!!!

Scara: GET THE FUCK OFF ME!!!!

WHOOO MY FIRST REQUEST ASK!!!

anyways-

When I tell you that a phone in TEYVAT would be absolute chaos… I mean it.

I can 99% guarantee you that Albedo has asked to experiment on what he refers to as Their Grace’s “strange device.”

(Please keep your phone away from him, as it will not make it out of his lab intact.)

Other acolytes who aren’t as curious about HOW and WHY it works may find interest on seeing you use your device to watch videos.

The people of Teyvat aren’t familiar with advanced technology, so I’d assume it’s fair to say that they would treat your phone as a Divine Object, comparable to the Anemo Archon’s Holy Lyre.

Since you are The Creator, it would be valued a lot more.

Nobody, not even one of the Archons, is allowed to touch such a holy object. Such a thing would be viewed as incredibly disrespectful. How could any of them, lowly acolytes, have the audacity to come into contact with your beloved “phone”?

Now, assuming that the reader can still watch Tik Toks, of course they would like to share some of them with certain characters, because why not?

Also, why wouldn’t you let them in on some of the jokes that are popular in the Genshin Fandom?

If Zhongli knew that he was referred to as “Geo Grandpa” I think his reaction would be one of initial shock.

“What does the title ‘Geo Grandpa’ indicate, Divine One?”

After a little explanation from you, I think he’d catch on. He is aware of his age, after all.

Others may think that the title “Grandpa” is offensive towards a former archon of all things, but he doesn’t mind as long as you are the one saying it. The term “Grandpa” is often used between mortals in a family, so does this mean that you considered him as family?

Whenever you call him by that name, you can expect to see a soft smile across his features.

When Xiao discovered that the fandom considers his relationship with Morax to be one of father and son, he was speechless for a good minute.

You gave him a look, trying to suppress your laughter.

“So…? You’re not denying it.”

He huffed, crossing his arms. “Morax is not my father.”

You wheezed, clearly amused by his flustered expression. Xiao was avoiding your gaze, clearly trying his best to convince you that he did not see the older man as a father figure.

The term “Eiussy” was completely unknown to the Lady Guuji… until she joined you in watching the short films know as “Tik Toks” on the magical screen of the divine “phone”

Now, Yae Miko is quite clever, so it was only natural that she would grasp the concept of what “Eiussy” meant.

She watched a few videos which featured similar titles, such as “Tartussy”, “Scarussy”, and “Kokussy”. All of them played a key role in her eventual understanding of just what exactly “Eiussy” meant.

The very moment she learns the true meaning, I can guarantee you that she will casually bring it up in conversation.

“Your Grace, you would be welcome at Watatsumi Island anytime!” Gorou beams, waving goodbye to you from the docks of Ritou.

The Watatsumi ship had finally arrived, after a lengthy delay following your business meeting with the Inazuman Officials.

“Thank you, Gorou.” You started to say… but the ever famed doggy general had already boarded the ship, and was out of your sight.

“Hmm…” a recognizable voice trailed, as her hand lightly touched your shoulder. Miko gave you a knowing look. “I guess he wanted to get some of that Divineussy”

Your expression remained blank.

“Perfect use of that title.” You praised, staring after the ship, as it departed into the sunset.

If and when Venti saw all of the sad Scaramouche edits… let’s just say that you’d have to physically restrain him.

Restrain him from making his way over to the Balladeer as soon as possible, that is.

Scaramouche would just be doing Fatui work, maybe trying to convince the recruits that the stars are indeed a lie…

And… bam.

A random ass bard pops up out of nowhere.

“Good day! Would you be interested in gaining an anemo vision?”

“What the fuck.”

[hexed-padlock]

Still super obsessed with the idea of Tav being part of the og party that killed Strahd and they just… dont mention it. At all.

Like, you’ve got:

Gale: Archmage of Waterdeep, wizarding prodigy, Chosen of Mystra herself

Karlach: frontliner of the Blood War and escapee from Avernus

Wyll: The Blade of Frontiers and son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard

Astarion: Vampire spawn of Cazador Szarr, and former magistrate

Shadowheart: Priestess of Shar, Lady of Loss

Lae’zel: Githyanki warrior and proud servant of Vlaakith

And my Tav’s canon: Slayer of the Dread Lord Strahd von Zarovich, currently trying to find a way to bring it up to the party and is 100% awkward about it because they died *after* killing Strahd and only because they tripped off a cliff and their old party thought it’d be funny to cast Reincarnate instead of Revivify.

The story everyone knows is that (Tav) died in the fight against Strahd as a “final heroic sacrifice for the greater good.” When in reality, they’re too embarrassed to correct anyone so they’ve picked a new name and literally made a deal with Neferon or Exethanter for completely different magic to what they used to wield and now they’re committed to the disguise/new life/fake backstory of being tricked into a Warlock pact. At this point, they’re neckdeep in this awkward situation where everyone believes they died a hero’s death, their old party is kinda just laughing about everything, and their BG3 party is completely oblivious.

Astarion: “It’s near impossible to kill a true vampire lord. Cazador is almost unbeatable.”

Tav the Strahd Slayer: “…I see.”

—————————————

Upon request, I’ve decided to start a short fic series of reveals—all just drabbles and oneshots since I’m not used to writing anymore.

Below will be a masterlist of the different posts once I begin with them.

“Do the Cattle not know you?” - Facing Cazador (Serious, Sassy Tav)

“A New Type of Vampire” - Raphael discusses the Ascension ritual and Tav remembers a similar story (Flashbacks, Traumatized Tav)

[lunaji]

I could get used to this.

Pairing: Bangchan x afab!reader

Genre: Mature 18+ (MDNI)

Warnings: /below the cut/

Synopsis: The classic one bed trope. Unspoken feelings, which lead to a very steamy game of 'never have I ever.'

Word count: 4.9k

Authors note: My original plan was to have this be more heavy smut, but I fell in love with a softer side of Chan and the way he'd praise the reader, soooo... tadah.

Be added to the taglist here

If you like my work, please do let me know, it makes my day ♡

Lightly edited*

Please do not repost or reword any of my works onto any platform.

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Warnings: explicit smut, piv, mutual pining, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), swearing, praise kink, softdom!Chan, sub!Reader, oral (f receiving), finishing inside reader, hickeys, fingering (f receiving), eenie weenie breeding kink, fluffy sex :) , Chan is in awe of the reader, reader is kinda bratty (magnifying glass needed), names such as baby, baby girl are used so if you are uncomfortable with that be aware!

----

“I must’ve messed up the reservation.” You had your face in your hands as you looked to the very obvious one bed in the hotel room, as Chan pulled his phone out, “I swore to double check the booking before I made it, I promise you Y/N.” Chan muttered, scrolling through the email as his face paled slightly. “Oh. Wait here, I will see if they have another room.” He spoke with an embarrassed look on his face, the tip of his ears bright red as he turned to the door, opening it with haste as you sighed, moving your hands from your face to open the bathroom door, leaning against the sink.

Your own face was a scarlet red, as you ran the tap cold, using your palms to cup the water, splashing it on your face to cool yourself down, as you sighed heavily. You and Chan were currently on a trip around the world, after he had finished his comeback with the other members of Stray Kids, he’d asked you, his best friend, if you would like to travel. It had always been something you had wanted to do since you were young, and Chan knew this, and now that he had enough money to do so, he wanted to spoil you.

After all, you were childhood friends, and he had promised you if he had gotten famous enough to afford a holiday for you, he would. One thing you knew about Chan was he was a definite man of his word. He had a rare 3 weeks off, which was practically unheard of, especially with big companies such as JYP, so much so you had /begged/ Chan to leave his laptop in Korea, which was a hard fight which ended up with you in floods of hot tears and Chan finally agreeing after seeing your point of relaxing. What you hadn’t managed to keep away from him was his work phone, but he had insisted he would only use it if absolutely necessary.

You wandered out of the bathroom, as you wandered to the window, looking out and down at the people wandering past, wondering about each and everyone's backstory as you hummed to yourself, before you heard a sigh from behind you, one of defeat almost. You turned on your heel to see a despaired Chan, as he kicked the door with his foot shut behind him, smiling sheepishly to you. 

“Turns out I had indeed only booked one bed, and the lady on reception tried her hardest to find us a twin room, but they only had doubles left,” Chan sighed, as he looked to you apologetically. “I can set up a bed on the floor, I don't mind-” he was silenced by you shushing him as you pinched your hand together in a ‘be quiet’ motion, shaking your head as you laughed softly.

“We’re old enough now to share a bed, Chan. I’m okay with it really. What’s the worst that could happen, one of us kicking the other out in their sleep?” You offered a joke, sighing slightly in relief as Chan seemed to loosen up, his shoulders untensing from their harsh position by the sides of his head, his hands letting go of his shirt he had balled in his fists.

“Yeah, you’re right, we’ve slept on the couch together before, what is a bed for us?” He asked rhetorically, as he leant down to take his shoes off, as you lifted your hoodie up and off, slinging it on the back of the chair at the small desk that was positioned in the corner of the room. Chan had already begun to unpack the case you two had shared between yourselves, placing the clothes you had onto one shelf, and his own on the shelf below. What you hadn’t realised whilst you had your back turned, was the fond expression your best friend had given you throughout your conversation, as you now turned to face him, a cheshire grin on your face almost.

“The next step in our relationship. I don’t know if friends take it to second base. Bed sharing.” You stated sarcastically, pushing your trainers off your feet, and flopping onto the bed, “We’re only here for 4 days, we can even cuddle.” You taunted, as you patted the bed next to you expectantly, stretching your arms above your head, as Chan moved from his current activity of playing housewife with the clothes and sat on the bed next to you, his hands taking advantage of your exposed midriff, tickling it gently as you pulled you arms down quickly to try and defend yourself, a squeak leaving your lips as Chan laughed, unrelenting on his mission to make you laugh too as you squirmed under his attack, doubled over in a ball to hide from his hands. “Chan! I- stop!” You managed through breathy laughs, as he finally let go of you, lying back next to you as you hummed in defeat, feigning death as you stuck your tongue out dramatically.

“It wasn’t that bad Y/N, you’ve been around Hyunjin too much. So dramatic.” He mocked, as you looked over to him, a look of ‘first of all, ouch’, but he was right. But you were always like this together, so you knew he didn’t mean it really. You loved that about your friendship with Chan, everything you did together was always full of laughter and happiness, even when things were hard, like when Chan had left to train, you had still called when he could, making sure he checked up on you, always having time for you despite his ever growing and incredibly busy schedule. You admired him for it, and you couldn’t imagine anyone else being your best friend. 

Best friend. That’s all you had ever seen him as, well, as far as you knew anyway. Sure, he was absolutely beautiful and he knew that about himself, he was confident enough to know and show his body to fans, and you would be lying if you hadn’t swooned over his abs, they were the best thing you had seen since sliced bread. Yes, your best friend was fucking attractive and you loved it. Did you love him? Sure, as a friend. At least, you told yourself that, but a few drunk thoughts would tell you otherwise. Besides, Chan was way too busy to be a dating man, you knew that, you just knew how to admire goods. That was all.

—

“Okay right, my turn.” Chan hummed, as he thought of his move, “never have I ever thought about an idol in a pervy way.” He smirked as you rolled your eyes, putting a finger down.

“In my defence, have you SEEN Hongjoong? He’s incredible. And do not get me started on Changbin.” You giggled, taking a sip of your lemonade as you spoke, Chan making a ‘bleh’ face as you spoke about his friends, “Hey, you asked me. I am being honest.” You shrugged as you hummed, “okay, never have I ever thought about my friends naked.” You wiggled your eyebrows, as Chan sighed dramatically, putting a finger down as you raised a brow.

“Let’s not get it twisted,” he started, repositioning himself so he was propped up on one elbow as he faced you, a blush painting his cheeks a rosy colour as he contemplated his words, “I have one friend in particular who I wouldn’t mind seeing naked, that is for sure.” He coughed awkwardly, as you made a noise of amusement, “They are stunning. But, there’s no way they would ever say yes.” He laughed softly, as you shuffled to sit cross legged on the bed, pillows propped up behind you as you watched him.

“They are incredibly stupid then, imagine saying no to Bahng Christopher Chan.” You teased as you used his full name, which you both only used in unserious situations with each other, “hit me.” You hummed, as you fiddled with the can’s tab, waiting for his next ‘confession’. 

“Never have I ever touched myself to my best friend.” He said, a look on his face you couldn’t quite read as you furiously blushed, coughing as you looked away. “Well?” He murmured, as he leant up slightly, trying to see your face. 

You hesitantly put a finger down as you felt the atmosphere change, it felt thick with unspoken confessions suddenly, “T-this is a fun game!” You forced a laugh as you looked at him again, noticing he had also put a finger down. “You know the whole point of this game is to say things you haven’t done.” You breathed out, as Chan shrugged.

“Oh well, you know I like to be honest.” He clicked his tongue shifting so he was fully in front of you now, lying across the bed sideways as you put your can down, pulling your cushion from behind you into your lap as you looked away from him. “Would you rather I lie to you Y/N?” He questioned as you shook your head, looking at him again.

“It caught me off guard, that’s all Chan. You can’t just ask me that.” You choked out, hitting him softly with the pillow as you spoke, as you bit your lip in concentration at your next ‘question’. You could be very straight forward with it, or, you could play dumb. The second option seemed very appealing, so you smiled reassuringly at Chan who seemed to be concerned at your lack of response, “Never have I ever fallen in love with my best friend.”

Chan’s breathing hitched as it was his turn to look away, before he licked his lips in haste. “Yeah.” He answered simply, as he looked you dead in the eye. “I have, and I still am.” 

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife, and as you gulped, Chan shifted so he was leant against the headboard, his hands nervously running through his hair as he watched you, similar to the way you were watching him. 

“Never have I ever wanted to kiss you.” There it was.

Time felt like it had stopped, neither of you said or did anything for a moment, but soon enough you found yourself crawling up the bed towards him, having only stopped prior to discarding the pillow you had placed on your lap. You tentatively sat on your knees in front of him.

“Never?”

Chan’s breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace, his hands reaching to pull you into his lap, your legs either side of his hips, as you both matched the same shade of crimson. You held your own hand up to his face, putting down a finger tentatively slow on purpose, as Chan’s breathing hitched in his throat, a hum leaving his lips as he moved to rest his hand on the small of your back, and pushed your body closer to his, where your chests touched, syncing in the rhythm of rising and falling. 

“All the time.” 

The shakiness of your breathing mixed with the sensation of his hand on your body made you feel dizzy with anticipation, as you rested your head on his shoulder, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you tried to ground yourself, before you felt Chan’s hand moving to bring your chin up to face him. His finger moved to trail your jawline, before his palm cupped your cheek, a look of seeking approval written in his eyes as you hummed softly, your lips parted slightly as you tipped your head to the side slowly, your eyes never leaving his. 

Chan took a silent moment to work up an ounce of courage as he leant forward, the gap mere centimetres between your lips as you let out a tiny laugh, your nerves making your stomach twist as you felt his hot breath on your lips, the feeling intoxicating almost as you closed the distance. Your lips tingle at the sensation as he led the kiss between you, his hand on the small of your back now moving to gently hold your waist, keeping you close to him as you both shared at first, a sweet, simple kiss. The excitement of being able to finally feel what it was like to kiss him bubbling in your body whilst you let your arms drape loosely around his neck, Chan humming gently as he spoke against your lips, “you taste like lemonade.”

You chuckled softly as he spoke, his lips tickling yours almost in a ghost of a kiss, as you let your hands run up his neck to his hair, finding themselves lost in his brown locks. You felt his body shiver under yours. Chan’s tongue slid along the underneath of your bottom lip as you granted him access, letting your lips part slightly as his tongue trailed the outline of your own, feeling the warmth of his breath and sharing saliva felt so personal, making your head spin. Chan’s hands found its way onto your waist, his fingers drawing swirling patterns into your flesh as you hummed in delight at the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin. They slowly made their way to the hem of your shirt, as he broke the kiss only quickly to ask for permission, your head nodding slowly as he lifted it gently, making sure to take in every part of your top half as he did. 

When he had removed the garment to the floor, his breath hitched in his throat as he licked his lips slowly, “You are so gorgeous, my love.” He murmured, his fingers moving to trace hearts into your stomach as he spoke, moving carefully to make sure he got a touch of every inch of you, your eyes fluttering shut as you enjoyed the intimacy of the moment. The room was silent apart from the staggered breathing from both of you as you moved your hands to Chan’s chest, sliding them under the fabric of his top, feeling the hardened abs he sported, letting a small gasp of pleasant surprise out. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he had a fit body, but feeling it on your own accord made it all the better. He smiled at your curiosity, and lent back to pull his own top off, before he brought his hands back to caress the soft flesh of your back, pressing your chests together. 

“I want to take this slow, we have all evening. Maybe even multiple rounds.” He whispered, his lips pressing faintly on your neck, trailing soft kisses of adoration along your jaw and up to your ears, “You belong to me, and I belong to you.” His words shot straight between your legs and you whimpered quietly, before his lips engulfed yours in a hot, passionate kiss, his hands wandering to your bra clasp, un-clipping it with insane ease. Every time his fingers caught your skin, it felt like hot lava encasing your skin, the whines from your lips suggesting neediness as Chan chuckled softly against your shoulder, the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering against your bare skin as he did so. You didn’t need to see his face to know the expression he was wearing at that moment.

“Chris..” you hummed, feeling the straps of your bra slip from your shoulders, Chan’s hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs finding haven in rubbing small circles to each of your nipples as he let a small ���hmm?’ out, a smirk of pure love on his face as you tipped your head back slowly, baring your chest to him, whilst Chan’s lips worked delicate, purple bruises into your skin, trailing from your neck, down to the cavern of your breasts, marking you as his own. His, and his only. “I- you..” 

Chan looked up to you, his breath hot on your skin as he let his tongue run along the top of your left breast, “words, baby.” His hand made light work on winding your nipple up to arousal, his mouth taking care of your other as his hand slipped down to your shorts, hesitating slightly as he ran it along the waistband. “Can we remove these, hmm?” He spoke against your nipple as you let a breathy giggle out, at his politeness, nodding as he shuffled to flip you both, resting you carefully against the bed as he let his mouth place sloppy, undirected kisses down your stomach, his hands working the buttons to your shorts, wriggling you out of them as you lifted your ass for him, making it easier for him to rid of the cloth covering you.

Chan’s lips pursed as he soaked in the view of how beautiful you were under him, his hand running to caress your inner thigh as his head lowered to press a deliberately drawn out kiss to your clothed pussy, before he raised his mouth a little to the pantie line of your underwear. He let the material rest between his teeth as he painfully slowly pulled them down, the butterflies in your stomach transferring to between your legs as his hands gripped onto your waist, supporting himself more than you as he maintained eye contact with you the entire time, the air thick with lust and emotions unspoken between you both as your own hands found haven in his hair once more, running them gently through it. The pure adoration you had for him had never changed, even so with him between your legs intimately, he was still the man you knew and had loved unconditionally.

You hadn’t even registered Chan’s current location until you felt the titillation of his hot breath against your thigh, a small mewl leaving your lips as your eyes followed his actions - one of which his lips trailed against your skin, daring closer to your pussy as he inhaled sharply, the way you were dripping for him and he hadn’t touched you yet drove him insane. His fingers ran up and down your other leg as he let his tongue kitten lick a stripe from your cunt to your clit, an obscene noise leaving your mouth as your back arched from the bed, hands gripping at the sheets below you as Chan took that as a compliment, now applying more pressure as he circled the tip of his tongue around your hole, before bringing his actions up to your clit, small but repetitive flicks on your bundle of nerves sending you to the stars without much effort already. 

Chan hummed against you as his fingers slid under his mouth, so he could work your tight pussy at the same speed as his tongue, inserting a finger into you as he pumped it into you, his mouth and finger in sync as you shook slightly at the stimulation, your legs squeezing around his head as you felt him huff against you, his free hand moving to separate your legs so he could have better access. The sounds filling the room were disgustingly pleasing, from the squelching of your wet cunt being fucked by his finger, to the slurping and sucking sounds from Chan’s mouth. You’d never received head quite like it. 

“Cum for me, then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your own name.” Chan muttered against your clit as he introduced a second finger, pumping into you at a merciless pace as you could do no more than whimper incessantly at the feeling of your orgasm on the brink of tipping over the edge, your face contorted in pleasure as your eyes squeezed shut, mumbling incoherent words. And, when Chan’s fingers hit just that spot inside you, you let out the most intense scream of pleasure as your hands came up to clutch his hair, almost grinding your pussy against his face as he helped you through what would most likely be your first orgasm of many that evening. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt Chan massage his hand up your side to your face, his own now centimetres with yours as his lips glistened with your release, his hair messy from where you had gripped it insistantly as you had face fucked him, a rosy tint spreading your face as he smiled gently at your embarrassment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as he let his nose nuzzle your cheek as his breathing hitched - mainly because you had pressed a cautious but firm leg to his crotch, feeling his hard on bulge through his shorts. 

“Off, please.” You whined, as you made grabby hands to the top of his waistband, as Chan let out a chuckle, standing up slowly so he could remove his shorts and boxers, his erection springing free from its confined space as your eyes drew to his impressive length. His dick was the right amount to fill you up, you decided there and then as Chan kicked the shorts to the side, before he hooked his hands under the bends of your knees, pulling you down the bed to the edge, as he looked to you.

“Are you sure you want this?” 

“Chris, you just ate me out and you’re asking me if I want this?” You snorted, as you could feel the heat of his body against yours, his strong hands tucked perfectly under your knees as you looked up to the ethereal man above, the same dorky smile painted on his lips as he moved down to kiss your lips slowly, savouring every second.

“I’m just making sure. I don’t think we could go back to being friends after.” He chuckled, stroking your face with his thumb.

“I don’t want to be just friends,” You started, your hands moving to wrap around Chan’s body, earning a small grunt from the male, as he let his hand move to grip the base of his cock.

“Good, because I don’t plan on being nothing short of your boyfriend once I'm done with fucking you.” He hummed, as he ran the tip of his cock up and down your slit, collecting your slick on it as he let out a small groan of pleasure, as you faltered slightly at his words. Your boyfriend. That made you let out a small giggle of giddiness, before it was quickly replaced by a tiny whimper of pleasure as you felt Chan lean one of his knees on the bed to support himself, pushing the tip of his cock into your tight entrance, a plethora of curse words leaving his lips as he furrowed his brows at the feeling. “Fuck baby girl, this wet and tight for me?” His words sounded like pure honey to you as you managed a nod, your hands gently gripping the soft flesh of his back as he continued to stretch you until he was sitting snugly inside your walls, leaning to kiss each corner of your mouth as he let you adjust.

His cock fit so perfectly inside you, it had you wondering just why it had taken you this long to fuck, as Chan’s thumb rubbed circles into your calf that was placed over his shoulder now, which had you split almost in half for him. He hummed as he let his head rest against your leg, before he moved his hips slowly, testing the waters. The moan that spilled from your lips was more than enough indication to Chan that he had you right where you belonged. He let his thrusts start at a mediocre pace, enjoying the feel of you clenching around him, his head tipped to the side so he could kiss a trail of saliva filled kisses to your leg, whilst his other hand ran down your body to your clit, his finger massaging an almost perfect circle around it as you whined from the back of your throat, hands gripping onto his back, leaving small but noticeable marks that were a sure indicator of your rendezvous of the evening. 

The romantic atmosphere was nothing short of pure adoration from both sides, as Chan caught your eyes in a deep, meaningful gaze, his hips rolling into you with ease as he let grunts of pleasure leave his lips, all the while working you up to your second orgasm, his finger still on your bundle of nerves as he timed his thrusts into you with the same time he applied pressure in bursts, sending you up the wall almost at how well he was fucking you into the sheets.

“Chris- feels so good.” You babbled, hands desperately trying to ground you as you let them run down to his shoulders, earning a low moan from Chan, who had beads of sweat collecting at the centre of his forehead. He slowed his motions for a moment, before pulling out of you, earning a whimper of desperation from you, before he shook his head, sitting at the headboard, patting his lap to you, which you gladly complied, crawling up the bed to him, settling your thighs either side of him as he held his cock in place for you to slip back down onto him, filling the room with moans from both of you.

You placed both of your hands onto his chest, rolling your hips into Chan as his own gripped at your waist, supporting you as you began to ride him, leisurely at first, getting a feel of just how good he was inside you, before he let out a low growl, pulling you into him closer so he could attach his lips to your neck, decorating it with his own personal jewellery, a selection of varying shades of purple bruises. Marking you as his. Only his. That sounded so good.

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” His words tickled your skin as you leant back to cup his face, your hips still rolling into him as your breathing slowly fell from its steady pace.

“Why didn’t you just say?”

“Work,” Chan huffed, as he pushed your hair from your face, “along with the fact I wanted to make sure you really loved me the way I love you.”

"Of course I love you, I always have." You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, the confession made your heart race. You finally could tell him how you felt.

The look on his face told you everything you needed to know, as you captured his lips in a deep kiss, feeling his hands cup your ass, lifting you up slightly so he could fuck into you from below. You tried to match his speed, bouncing down onto his dick as he fucked up, but the dizzy, intoxicating feeling of his words, along with how good he felt, made you falter. He really cared about you, and it showed. He fucked deep into you, pressing against your g-spot with the tip of his cock, his mouth moving down to wrap around your nipple, licking and grazing his teeth against it. Chan really understood the female anatomy, your anatomy.

“Easy baby, let me take care of you.” He whispered against your lips, before he rested his forehead against yours, your arms wrapping around his neck as your bodies fit as close as they could together, two pieces of a puzzle perfectly aligned. The room was quiet, apart from the concentration of sloppy sounds from your wet pussy, Chan’s grunts and your own whimpers of ecstasy. “Look down.”

You complied, your mouth falling open in pure shock at the sight of Chan’s cock disappearing inside you, as you caught a glimpse of his face, concentrated on how well you were taking him, his lip bitten as you let your head roll back in pleasure, a string of words absolutely inaudible as you did, the familiar feeling of the knot of an orgasm in your stomach.

“Please, s’ close.” You hummed, licking your lips in haste as you chased your high, letting you pussy bounce down onto his cock, earning a throaty groan of enjoyment from Chan, who’s own hips seemed to snap up quicker into you now, both of you finding solace in each others bodies, your highs climbing quickly. 

“Cum around me, let your tight cunt squeeze my own cum from me.” His words were filthy, but it drove you insane as you came undone on your newfound lovers cock, his name spilling from your lips loudly, sweat dripping from your forehead, before you felt Chan twitch inside you, “fuck, (y/n), I need to pull-”

You shook your head, bringing your hands to clutch him tightly to you, your eyes wide as you begged, “no, inside. P-pill.” Your words sounded so desperate, so needy, that it awoke something inside Chan, his thrusts becoming ruthless into your cunt, which would surely leave bruises in the morning.

“Baby girl wants to be bred? Fill you up so well?”

“Mhm..p- please Channie, need it.” 

That was enough for him to spill inside you, your walls gripping his cock tightly as he moaned your name out, as you rocked back onto him, helping him through his own orgasm. Neither of you moved for a moment, the room filled with the heavy breathing from both of you, the smell of sex and the sure knowing of unspoken feelings finally laid out on the table. 

You let your head fall onto his shoulder as his hands ran up and down your back carefully, as you felt him soften inside you. His lips pressed dainty kisses onto your head, leading down to your ear where he spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Chris?”

“I don’t think one bed will be a problem anymore, do you?”

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[mitsies]

proposal ; satoru gojo

gojo satoru proposes quite often. each time, it all goes terribly wrong.

satoru gojo x gn reader, proposal, established relationship, parenthood (later!!), dad!gojo, 5+1 trope, so much fluff!!!

the first time gojo satoru asks you to marry him, he ends up nearly choking to death. he recalls it with a faux bitterness, and you with indignance and a tinge of amusement.

it was a fancy dinner restaurant, with low-hanging chandeliers and the aroma of obnoxious perfumes. people clothed in dressy designer gowns and suits flocked the bar and tables. you watched them as you sipped your drink, wondering what they were doing here tonight.

"that man with the red spotted tie? i bet the younger lady he's with is his mistress."

gojo's words made you choke back a laugh. his voice was low, to avoid anyone overhearing. he smiled at how your lips pursed to hide your smile.

this was your favorite game- you would find a person to observe, eyeing them, and gojo would follow your gaze. he'd then create a backstory for them- a game of fill-in-the-blank based on their actions and appearance.

the both of you would often go on fancy dinner dates (with gojo being vain and rich and enjoying dressing up, and with you benefitting from him being happy,) but today was a more momentous occasion. it was the two of you's 6th anniversary of dating.

you weren't expecting much, nor did you want a lot. just the regular flowers, sub-par wine, and overpriced food would do. you were content with his presence and no greater plans.

gojo, however, had other ideas for today. without your knowledge, he'd coordinated with the kitchen staff to create a secret proposal scheme- and he did a damn good job if he said so himself.

a large, gaudy, and expensive ring was stowed away inside a cupcake of your favorite flavor. there'd be two to share, and when you bit into it, you'd discover his proposal and say yes. that was gojo's plan, anyways.

when the plate of sweet treats were brought out, they just looked too good. gojo couldn't help but have his right away too- after all, it was best to avoid suspicion, right? so he popped the whole thing into his mouth like a pill.

and gagged. loudly.

a piece of fine silver, an immaculately cut and expensive diamond, and the tiny lapis lazuli studs in the form of a gaudy engagement ring was lodged in his throat.

at this point in the story, gojo typically pretends to forget what happened afterward. you would laugh and explain to the audience that he did, in fact, have to get heimlich-maneuvered by an elderly man. he ended up spitting out the ring and you never even knew it was there, assuming he was choking on his overly-chewy steak.

that date ended with an unpaid bill, apologetic staff, and an embarrassed couple. 'an ultimate success', gojo would chime into your story, since he 'got you in the end'.

you'd snort a laugh and push his shoulder playfully. 'more like an ultimate fuck-up', you'd smile. he would grin right back at you, brighter than a diamond.

the second time gojo satoru proposes, you get hit by a car.

it's a warm, sleepy day in thailand. gojo opted to take you with him as his plus one to some stuffy clan event being held there. instead of attending the event fully, though, the two of you decide to leave 10 minutes in to roam the unfamiliar streets.

the sun is about to set and it's held in the sky by the clouds, cradling it like a child. the world is alight with oranges and the streets are quiet. it's an abandoned little town, the one you end up in.

the buildings are dilapidated and birds nest in the rafters of old structures. graffiti decorates the walls and empty boxes line the streets. vines and flowers and grasses bloom and blossom through the cracks and creases of the decaying village, like nature was reaching back into the world to take what was hers.

your formal wear was itchy on your skin but you really didn't mind, as you laughed like a fool as satoru made stupid joke after stupid joke. his smile was enough to rival the setting sun as he beamed at you as if he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

gojo, who'd been a few paces ahead of you, falls into step next to you before grabbing your hand to get you to stop walking.

he says your name and it's more gently than usual. "look at the sky," he whispers, like it's a secret.

you look up to the expanse of tumbling clouds and the streaks of dusk and you're left breathless by the unusual serenity of it.

"it's not half as pretty as you." gojo is so quiet you almost can't hear him, but you smile a little. you turn, about to make fun of him for being cheesy and cliche, and then it's all a blur- you see satoru, on the floor for some reason? and you hear jingling and satoru shouts something and- 'bam!' gojo would pantomime, gesturing an explosion with his hands.

you'd roll your eyes before continuing the story. an elderly driver with a done-up and ancient, creaky, rickshaw had slammed you into the pavement and kept on driving.

you lay, dazed, back on the ground. gojo appeared in your vision, blurry and doubled. panic is prominent on his face, and you feel his hands on you.

for a few minutes, as gojo tries to manage both his own anger at the old driver and the fact that his partner just got hit by a rickshaw going at 100 miles per hour.

he helps you sit up, and you do so slowly. you're still seeing doubles of everything and the word is spinning and your head hurts like hell, but you don't think your bleeding, and gojo is slowly coming back into focus so you're probably, maybe okay.

'it was traumatizing,' gojo would narrate, 'blood everywhere, guts on the floor, everything.'

you'd smack gojo's shoulder and he'd cackle like a fool.

'it wasn't bad,' you would state, 'he's making it seem like i was on the verge of death. i was not.'

'i was not,' gojo mimicked. you'd shove your shoulder into him and he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist.

this story ends with you in the hospital with a minor concussion and gojo stashing the engagement ring in his suit pocket and tucking it into the depths of his overly-stuffed suitcase.

'god, you getting hit by a car-'

'rickshaw,' you corrected, 'not a car.'

gojo side-eyed you. 'like i said, a car, was so inconvenient.'

you glare at him, and you hear your audience laugh. 'next time, the car is going to be hitting you. and it won't be just a concussion.'

attempt number 3 is less painful for you, but incredibly embarrassing for gojo.

it's snowing on the school campus. you and satoru observed as maki beat the shit out of yuta, as per usual. you wince as a particularly brutal blow strikes him.

"jesus, she's not holding back."

gojo smiles. "i wouldn't want her to. how else is he meant to learn?"

you raise an eyebrow. "i'm surprised you're allowed to be a teacher."

"me too!"

the silence pursuing your words is comfortable, the only thing breaking being the loud smacks coming from the field until gojo says:

"i'm sure they'll be fine. want to go for a walk?"

you tsk as he stands from the bench you are both sitting on. "now, what kind of teacher would that make you, satoru?"

"one with priorities."

you smile and take his extended hand. "damn right."

your walk is quiet. neither of you speaks much, and you're both happy that way. sometimes, silence is lovely.

gojo is not quiet around many. he is, by nature, loud, and that is something he hadn't grown out of. you feel a little blessed that he can find it in himself to be peaceful when you're around, though.

he's holding your gloved hand but you can still feel the cold emanating from his palm as he leads you through a grove of leafless trees, just behind the school campus.

"i love the snow," he says at some point.

you hum in agreement and steal a glance at him. satoru looks angelic in this scene, under a snow-filled tree, like a heavenly deity that you had the honor of encountering.

you turn your face so he doesn't see you staring. you've been together for years at this point, but you don't feel like embarrassing yourself at this moment.

when satoru lets go of your hand, though, you turn back around from your faux-examination of the winter scenery- just in time to see a big cloud of snow from the tree drop onto gojo's head.

he collapses from his place on the ground (why was he on the ground?), and he looks like a surprised deer. only his head peeks through the pile of white around him.

you stare for a beat before breaking out into laughter, so hard it makes your ribs hurt- and in the distance, you hear even more people laughing. you glance around to see the current 1st-years, yuta, maki, inumaki, and panda doubled over in laughter. panda had a phone out, presumably recording the whole scene.

'i should've killed him,' gojo grumbled, and you snort.

'too bad. he'd already sent the video to everyone, so that wouldn't really help your case.'

'maybe it's not too late.'

'i think it is. it's all okay though, right? because it all worked out in the end?'

you batted your lashes and gojo huffed at your blatant mockery of his previous words.

'well, i suppose you were worth it all. just barely, though.'

the final failed proposal was gojo's last ditch attempt at making it romantic.

it's your average day, about 6 months after the last mishap. spring flowers blossom all around your little picnic blanket as you smooth it over the grass. satoru places the basket over in the corner and began to unpack it.

it was one of the rare days when you both had a little time off, so in honor of the good weather, you and satoru opted to spend a while outside.

what you don't know is that satoru has a skywriter scheduled to come out in 5 minutes, to pull across a banner asking you to marry him.

and what satoru doesn't know is that the company he'd booked had a 2-star yelp rating.

so, when the skywriter dances across the blue canvas with a grey trail of letters following it, your name is spelled wrong. very wrong. to the point where it's unrecognizable.

"gertrude, will you marry me?"

you read out the words the skywriter spelled out, and smile dumbly. gojo wants to gouge his eyes out. "good for gertrude. strange name, though."

and then it starts raining. like, really raining. torrents of water rush down from the sky out of nowhere, soaking the both of you in a matter of moments.

"okay, well," gojo tries to conceal his disappointment, "i guess this was kind of a bust."

but you smile at him and he's not too upset anymore, because how could he be?

"there's always next time, satoru. could you help me with the stuff?"

the both of you rush to clean up your picnic. and then, you hear a rumble of thunder in the distance.

the hairs on the back of your neck rise and you think satoru feels it too because he grabs your hand and tugs you away. "i think we should go-"

a loud, crackling noise followed by an astonishingly bright light strikes the place where your picnic blanket used to lay. a small stream of smoke billows, before its vanquished by the water.

gojo looks at you. you look at him. and wordlessly, the both of you leave the park as quickly as you can.

(what neither of you realizes is that a little box with an over-the-top engagement ring was left abandoned at the park that day, never to be seen again.)

without the engagement ring, gojo isn't quite sure what he's meant to do.

he could try again. he could buy another one. but honestly, the demotivation he's feeling wouldn't do anything for his proposal skills. he is feeling very much slumped.

it's a week after the picnic fiasco, and life has been as normal for you. but for gojo, he's been stressing over everything for what feels like an eternity.

it's the last friday of springtime when he comes home from teaching to you laying on the couch. you're reading a book with a red cover in your flannel pajama pants and his oversized t-shirt. you look so good, and gojo doesn't know what to do with himself so he just stares at you from the doorway like some creep before entering your shared apartment.

he calls out a greeting to you and you reply in kind, asking how his day was. he keeps the conversation going as he showers, calling out his replies. he returns in his own overpriced loungewear and slides next to you on the couch.

he lays his head on your lap, looking up at you. you diligently and wordlessly rearrange to make this more comfortable for both of you.

the last rains of spring are pounding against the windows of your home, and the sky outside is dark blue. the yellow lighting of the lamp casts a warm glow on the two of you, and gojo thinks it brings out your eyes, and he doesn't know what he's saying when he says it but it's spoken nonetheless:

"i want to marry you."

you don't react in the slightest, flipping the page of the book you're reading and working your free hand through gojo's hair. but he doesn't miss how your movements falter for a moment, just a second.

"haha. funny."

gojo sits up. you're looking at him now, and he sees a flicker of confusion flit across your face.

"i'm serious. i mean it."

you blink. "you want to marry me."

he nods.

"oh."

"so..." gojo scoots back from you on the couch, so he's not in your face. "this is me proposing."

and then he waits. he waits for the burglar to come in and shoot both of you in the face. he waits for the microwave oven to explode in the kitchen and set the apartment on fire. he waits for the ceiling to collapse and bury you both in the rubble. he waits for you to say no.

"then i guess this is me saying yes."

but he is waiting for nothing. he smiles at you, so brightly that he could illuminate the stormy nighttime sky. and you kiss him, this boy made of diamond, as if he's going to disappear.

'i was so smooth, you can't lie,' gojo said with a stupid smirk.

'you're right, i can't lie. and you weren't smooth. at all.'

two little voices giggle and your heart was infinitely warmed.

you and satoru were sat telling your story to your young kids, aged 6 and 7. it was late on a wednesday, and you'd run out of stories to tell, so you resorted to the undoubtedly entertaining tale behind your engagement.

'you're so silly, dad!' said your 6-year-old daughter shigure. she had recently learned what the word 'silly' meant, so obviously it had to be used in every sentence ever. 'so so silly!

satoru ruffled her hair and you were taken for a moment at how similar the two were.

your 7-year-old son, fuyuki, interjected. 'i'm too old for bedtime stories now but i like this one i guess.'

you raised an eyebrow. 'oh, really? i guess we won't read you them anymore. y'know, since you're too old and cool for them-'

'no! i was just kidding!'

you snort. 'okay. i see.'

satoru stood and you followed suit, wishing the children goodnight before shutting off the lights in their room.

your husband sighed before stretching and cracking his back. he winced at the sound.

'you really are getting old,' you said lightly. he glared at you playfully.

'says the one whose hearing is giving out already.'

you waved a finger at him. 'that is a direct result of getting hit by a car-'

'rickshaw,' satoru corrected.

'a car,' you repeated, 'which, by the way, is technically all your fault.'

satoru groaned as you both made your way to your own bedroom. 'that was forever ago.'

'still feels like yesterday.'

'sure it does, grandpa.'

you were, at this point, by your bedside. so you threw a pillow at him.

he (almost) caught it and threw it back onto your bed. 'get in, spouse #1.'

you exhaled a breath of laughter. 'you first, #2.'

the night was cold as you slid in after satoru, and in all honesty, he was even colder, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

your head laid close to his chest and you could feel the rising and falling of his breathing. you tried to match it.

'i'm glad i asked you.'

his voice was out of nowhere. you raised your head to look at him inquisitively.

'i mean,' he amended, 'i'm glad this is how things ended up. really glad.'

you thought about your life. you thought about how you met, about the restaurant anniversary, about the crazed rickshaw driver, about the video of gojo losing to the snow, about the lightning and your failed picnic, about the rain against the windows and the color of the book you were reading, about everything from then til now.

there were so many words you could have said to tell him about how much you agreed. but you opt to return your head to his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

'i'm glad too,' is all you said. he already knew.

the name shigure means rainshower in late summer, winter, or autumn.

the name fuyuki means wintery tree.

[directdogman]

Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come? 

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!

[sidsinning]

UNNECESSARY AND UNHINGED RANT ABOUT CINDERELLA'S CHARACTER FROM CINDERELLA (2015) INCOMING

Lemme talk about Cinderella from Cinderella (2015) for a bit actually yeah because these changes to my girl completely baffle me

She has friends now

Goes outside on her own

Says the only reason why she's staying is because it's her parent's house- bruh.

All of this takes away (+ more reasons down the cut) from the true cruelty of OG!Cinderella's backstory and how it all connects so well to inform you of her character and the actions she takes

OG!Cinderella has been indoctrinated into accepting her life as a maid to her step family since she was a small child. She is never seen going outside of the house besides the night at the ball. The only friends she had were random animals around her she couldn't even fully converse with. She had no other human perspective on her situation or how to get out of it. It makes sense why she's just taking her stepmother's tyranny while holding everything in because this isolation and neglect is all she knows. This is the entire limited scope of her world. A sad reality to many cases of abuse in real life.

And they just. Erased all of this for some. Reason???

The night at the ball was a big deal because she literally NEVER gets to go out. This is the only time she interacts with the outside world aside from the ending. The impact of that was HUGE in the original movie. The new one just cheapened that imo by implying she goes out in town and talks to others regularly. This event was an impossible, fantastical dream come true to someone who is never treated as anything but a servant to everyone she knows.

Basically OG!Cinderella has it way worse which is what makes the ball such a huge deal in the first place.

Third point I don't think I need to explain how Cinderella staying in her abusive home bc the house is "hers to love now that her parents are dead" is not a good character change and doesn't make sense. I would understand if her dad was alive and insisting on staying, but he is GONE. It is a building you grew up in sure, but that's all it is. Not something you sacrifice your wellbeing for. So that's a shit reason they didn't need to make up to say why this character is stuck in her abusive household. The isolation and years of gaslighting were enough. (Also showing how much of a frightening presence and manipulative villain Lady Tremaine is.)

And she sure left it quick after getting hitched lol

The Fairy Godmother having the audacity to test Cinderella with that "oh I'm a poor old woman and I want some milk please" nonsense

Not very godmotherly of her in this version. 🥴 The Fairy Godmother appeared in the original to offer pure comfort to Cinderella in a time of desperate need, when this resilient and kind spirit finally reached her breaking point. The dress, slippers, pumpkin carriage, and magic were all given freely as a present to make her feel better at least for one night.

Meanwhile this goofy ass Godmother has the audacity to be like "hey is she gonna be nice or not even though she's crying in tattered, recently destroyed clothing- I need to see that or else she doesn't get the magic juice". Like why did this become a way to test her morality all of a sudden? Why did you need something from her to give up the magic goods?? It's not even a good test she just walked a couple steps and poured some milk in a bowl,,,

Idk man they made their relationship transactional for no reason which taints the original purpose of this scene imo. The original Fairy Godmother already KNEW Cinderella was kind without having to make sure by disguising herself as a rancid old lady. 😭 Weird and unnecessary addition.

Kinda nitpicky here but this film did not at all match the terror of the torn dress scene which really shows you how horrifying and humiliating it was to Cinderella

Comparison

AND THE BIGGEST OFFENDER: THE WAY SHE "ESCAPED".

I NEED TO TAKE A BREATH

BECAUSE LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT.

Original Cinderella, seeing a real chance of escape from her abuse, uses everything in her possession to do so. She's yelling for the mice to get the key, to get Bruno to chase away the cat, running down to meet the prince's attendants to make sure they get the proof of her identity from her- and that moment she oh-so-casually pulled out the second slipper??? SEEING HER STEPMOTHER'S SLACKED JAW??? GAGGED US ALL.

ICONIC

But 2015. Bitch. What is going on. She gets locked up and easily accepts her doom. She just twirls and sings in her prison like a dunce because cINDerELLa wAs aLReADy cONTenT wIth her sMaLL mOMEnts oF hAPPIneSs anD dREamS wItH thE pRinCE.

Just. Gives up.

Not the mice begging her to get up and save herself come on now

The mice have to do their best on their own to push open her window so the prince and his crew hear her on time.

And yeah, all she had to do was open a window.

WHAT. WHY. HOW. WAS THIS??? MORE EMPOWERING???

1950: use your brain to fight to the very end

2015: quit while you're still ahead, or don't try you just gotta dance and sing all pretty then someone will come along and save you

I'm sorry, but for a production that was so critical of the notion of "Cinderella just waited around for a prince to save her"...is that not literally what they changed the ending to?

You wanna talk about lack of agency in princess stories well here you go 😭

You know what's sad about all this in the end is this is still the best recent live action Disney remake imo LOL

Anyways hello if you've made it all the way down here I rest my case

[mickandmusings]

i. true blue

part one of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: The summer he turned nine, Jake was convinced he'd spend it like any other summer: riding his bike down dirt roads with all the other kids, lending a helping hand on the family farm, and brushing up on his backyard football. His life hits a tailspin when a new family moves into the house just down the road, leading him to a friendship and feelings he never saw coming.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: cute childhood friends to lovers, small sections of angst, tragic backstories and southern traditions. primarily self indulgent. this is written by someone from the most southern small town imaginable, so it's written with love as an ode to my own hometown, enjoy. <3

-

In the great state of Texas, just a few hours south of Austin, sits a small town called Haven. It was a fitting name for a town so picturesque-miles and miles of endless farmland, stunning sunsets and sunrises, and the beauty of the state's flora and fauna. However, in all it's Southern small-town glory, it was home to little else. There was the hub of activity 'downtown'-the one school system, a family-owned restaurant, a convenience store, the First Baptist Church of Haven, and a hair salon. On the outskirts of Haven sat a large patch of barbed-wire fenced farmland, one that spanned most of the remaining parts of the small town, more than the eye could see. It was large enough to have its own unpaved road-Seresin Farm Road-and was home to only one house, the Seresin family house.

The Seresin family had owned the land long before the turn of the century, and had been passed down from generation to generation ever since. The Seresin's owned much of Haven to begin with, their farmland excluded. Most of the businesses rented their buildings from Jacob Seresin Sr., with the exception of the school system and the church. Despite their seemingly looming hand of ownership, you'd never know they held power at all. Mrs. Janet Seresin-first lady of the Seresin estate-was known as the town egg lady, always more than happy to pass out dozens of Styrofoam cartons free of charge. She held the unofficial prize of having the best homemade ice cream in all of Haven, and anyone in the small town would attest. Jacob Seresin Sr.-head of the Seresin farm and Janet's husband-was regarded in the same warm fashion. You could find him driving up and down the main street in his trusty red farm truck, often loaded with feed or some kind of good necessary to keep his place up and running. He'd stop and talk to anyone and everyone, literally everyone, he knew. He had been the one to help nearly everyone in his community rebuild after natural disasters, always willing to help someone in need, never asking for anything in return. The Seresin's were Haven's unofficial first family, leaders of sorts, in the small town.

Their son, Jacob Seresin Jr., was elusive and a topic nearly everyone knew to avoid. He had been raised on the family farm, attended the local school, lived and breathed the same life as everyone else, but found himself itching for more. He quickly fell into trouble with the local law, and with a last name like Seresin, he got away with mostly everything, which, perhaps, was his greatest downfall. He had gotten his high school girlfriend-a sweet local girl named Georgia Joann Smith-pregnant their senior year. When she broke the news, he'd taken off in his truck to Kentucky, where it was rumored he still was, looking for something he could never find. Nine months later, Jacob Thomas Seresin III, or 'Jake' as he preferred, was born, healthy, all ten fingers and toes. Just hours after birth, his mother fell gravely ill, and made her own swift exit in death. She left behind only one thing-her son. Jacob Sr. and Janet took him in with no questions asked, raising him as any grandparent would. Jake, luckily, seemed to inherit more of his mother than his father. His blonde hair gleamed in the Texas sun, turning almost gold in the heat-filled summers. His green eyes held his kindness-a sharp contrast to his father's dark brown eyes that seemed to only hold his anger. Jake bore Georgia's gentle soul, her wide smile and her witty personality, she lived on in Jake entirely. So when the new family moved into the empty house at the end of Seresin Farm Road, Janet had zero hesitations in sending Jake down to welcome their new neighbors to Haven. She'd spent the entire morning making homemade bread, having to occasionally swat away Jake's hands from the counter or tell him to completely get out of the kitchen while the loaves cooled. After lunch, she handed him a well-wrapped loaf and gave him instructions to take it to the newcomers, which Jake did without complaint. He'd placed the bread into the metal basket attached to his royal blue bike, trekking down their long and winding driveway. When he'd arrived nearly ten minutes later, he had parked his bike on the edge of the lawn, against a towering oak tree. He made a point to kick the dirt off his shoes, not wanting to track it onto the seemingly freshly painted, white wrap-around porch. He lifts his first to wrap against the door, one with a glass cut-out, much different than the screen door on his farmhouse. He fixed his windswept hair in the reflection of the window, remembering Granny's words of always looking well put together when meeting new people. The door's lock clicked, and when Jake looked up to see the man or lady of the house, he instead had to look down, finding a girl who couldn't be much younger than him. Her eyes were wide as they stared up at him, hair pushed out of her face with colorful butterfly shaped clips. Her eyes were captivating, and all of Jake's intended Southern charm had flown out the window. She smiles shyly at Jake, wondering why this stranger was on her porch.

"Uh, this is for you-or,uh-your parents," his arm extends the bread as he stammered. "My Granny made it, we live at the farm on the end of the road, we-uh, she-wanted to invite you to the neighborhood. I'm Jake."

Jake stuck out a clammy hand for her to shake, and winced internally. His Pawpaw would be reprimanding him if he saw this-it wasn't polite to make a lady shake your hand. Shaking hands was for business deals, and Jake had just shook her hand like she'd bought his show heifer. Jake's mind was clouded for a reason he couldn't explain, and he wasn't thinking straight. The girl blushed and smiled slightly.

"I'm Honey," her voice was quiet but pronounced. "That's not actually my name, but everyone calls me Honey, so, you can call me Honey. Um, is your house the one with the big magnolia tree in the front?"

Jake nodded quickly. Her eyes widened, shimmering with something Jake couldn't make out. Quietness settled over them before Honey spoke again.

"Is that your bike?" Honey points at his bike leaning against the tree.

"Yeah! Most kids ride their bikes everywhere here."

"C-Could I ride with you, maybe?" Her voice was suddenly shy, no longer meeting Jake's eyes. "It's just summer and I-I don't know anyone yet and-"

"Yes!" Jake cut her off, and mentally scolded himself, but as Honey flashed him a wide smile he couldn't find himself caring. She tossed the bread on the table just inside the door, slid on her purple jelly sandals and shut the door behind her. She led Jake to the empty garage, only full of empty moving boxes and a bright yellow bike. As she led them out of the garage and towards the edge of the yard, Jake's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her.

"Shouldn't you let your momma know you left, leave her a note or somethin'?"

Honey's eyes cut to her feet, her smile fading.

"She won't care, I'll be back before she will. S-She's a nurse, works the night shift at the old folks home in the next town over."

Jake nodded but said nothing, pedaling off on his own bike to lead her back down to his farm.

From that moment on, Jake and Honey were practically inseparable. The entire summer was spent with a blue bike parked next to a yellow one, swimming in the creek behind Jake's house, and running around the farm with nothing but their imagination and makeshift stick swords. Jake's Border Collie, John Wayne, became a frightening dragon of their imagination, and Honey taught Jake how to make flower crowns from the wildflowers in the fields. Janet had grown fond of looking out her front window to see Honey sitting next to Jake under her magnolia tree, reading her Boxcar Children book as much as she could with Jake chattering next to her. Even when Jake was busy with his farm chores, Honey would sit placidly under the tree, enjoying the occasional breeze as she read her book of the week. After the long summer, Jacob Sr. had started referring to it as "Honey's tree," and he'd laugh to himself every time he saw the girl sitting quietly under it. Both Janet and Jacob Sr. loved having the sweet but shy girl around, especially when they found out that she spent most of her time alone in that house down the road. On the last night before summer ended, Jake and Honey sat under the tree, swatting at mosquitoes as the Texas sun set. Jake looked over at Honey, who had finally put her book down, and asked:

"Why do you like this tree so much?"

She smiled a smile that Jake knew to be half-hearted and brought her knees to her chest, her chin resting on her kneecaps.

"It reminds me of home."

Honey had moved from her tiny town in Mississippi that summer, and she often talked of her home there, the friends and family she'd left behind, how her mother had left when her grandmother died, looking for a fresh start.

"My Gram had a tree like this in her yard, and she'd babysit me when Mom worked," Honey's eyes rested on the ground, where she was picking grass from the ground around her bare feet. "She'd read to me a lot, and it was my favorite place in the world. Sometimes when I read here it sort of feels like I never left."

Jake simply nodded, thinking of the mother he'd only met in pictures, and the grandparents he wouldn't trade for the world's richest man. Neither of them spoke a word about the statement she made, but they understood what it meant to both of them. Even at age nine, Jake was in love with the girl next door, even if he didn't know it yet. From the first year they met and every year after, Jake and Honey found themselves under the magnolia blossoms. Well, almost every year...

As the budding teens entered into their freshman year at Haven High School, the differences between their personalities became more apparent than ever. Jake was the ideal all-American southern boy: athletic, outgoing, someone who guys high-fived in the hallway, and one that girls would be late to class just to get a glimpse of. Jake was never one to let the attention get to his head, at least not too much. Sure, he enjoyed the feeling of being liked, and, sure, he could be cocky at times, but he was never the one to bully those completely different from him. Someone like Honey. Honey had always been quiet, shy by nature, and the very definition of an advanced student. She was beloved by her teachers, but not as well received by her classmates. With a town as small as Haven, it was either incredibly easy or incredibly hard to make friends, and for Honey, it seemed to be the latter. It wasn't as if Honey was perpetually odd-she wasn't homely or weird, just quiet. Jake was the only one who knew about her boisterous laugh that could be prompted with his corny jokes, or her wild streak, like sneaking into his bedroom window after she and her mother got into yet another fight.

At the beginning of the school year, she spent her breaks talking to Jake, and she sat next to him at lunch. He'd let her ramble about her current read, and he'd talk about yesterday's football practice. She'd leave with the promise to come around for dinner, Mrs. Janet was making her favorite. However, when football season started, and Jake had made an infamous saving play at one of the first few games, he had peaked in popularity. Honey found herself on the outside of his swarm of new friends, listening to him talk to his football buddies while the girls that followed shot her sympathetic or lethal glances. She'd ignored it at first, simply enjoying her paperback until Jake could spare himself a minute to talk to her. Eventually, the bell would sound before she even got the chance to say 'hello' to him, and, with her heart suddenly heavy, she'd make her way to class. The routine lasted for weeks and she'd find herself waiting by the phone, figuring Jake would call her after football practice, but she'd only be greeted with silence through the night. After the second week of no contact, she decided to leave Jake and his new friends to their own devices, opting to sit in the library for breaks, taking her lunch in the empty courtyard. It was like Jake hadn't noticed her absence at all, at least in her mind, but Jacob Sr. and Janet noticed immediately. They had missed her bright aura that lit up their farmhouse, watching as she greeted the dogs as she parked her now lilac bike in the driveway. Janet missed her companionship as Honey would watch her sew patches onto Jacob Sr. and Jake's clothes, and her husband missed catching up with her over dinner. The only time they'd see her anymore would be on Friday nights, at Jake's games. She'd sit in the bleachers with them, decked out in her navy blue and gold, watching intently as the boys in jerseys made their way up and down the field. At the end of the game, she'd say her goodbyes before Jake would find his grandparents and they wouldn't see her until the following Friday. In typical grandparent fashion, Janet had assumed Jake had done something. Her grandson was kind, gentlemanly, but he also had a sharp tongue and a big head, which he sometimes used in malice. So, over dinner one Thursday, Janet finally dipped her toes into the water.

"Maybe you should talk to Honey after the game tomorrow, she always seems to slip away before you two get to catch up."

Jake's eyebrows furrowed as he wiped his mouth, looking up at his grandmother.

"Honey? At a football game? Granny, I don't really think that's her scene. She hates when we have a pep rally at school, I don't think she's going to a football game voluntarily."

Jacob Sr. and Janet give each other a knowing look across the table.

"How blind are ya, son?" Jacob Sr.'s voice is accusatory.

Jake looks up from his plate, looking over at his grandfather with a confused look.

"She's been at every game this season, Jake," his grandmother's voice speaks, much softer than her husbands. "She sits next to us in the stands. When was the last time you two talked? Just the two of you?"

Jake scoffs at his grandmother's accusation, his head shaking as he tried to wrack his brain for the last time he'd talked to his best friend.

"Maybe a week or so ago, I-I can't remember."

"That's a damn shame," Jacob Sr.'s voice grumbled. "She's a sweet girl, smart too. I know she doesn't run the same circles as you and your new buddies, but she's a good friend Jake, and you're treatin' her as if she doesn't exist. She still comes to all of those games. I'm not tellin' you what to do, but maybe give her a call, and pray to the Lord above that she wants to talk to your dumb ass."

Jake's heart sank as he carried out his nightly farm chores that night, thinking of how he had treated Honey. He knew what the other girls in the group said about her, how she was 'quiet' and 'weird,' often making comments that were completely false or disrespectful. Jake always shut the comments down, but found himself not bothering to talk to the one person who had always been there for him. Was it his fear of his new friends thinking he was weird? Did he think he wouldn't be surrounded by his football buddies if they saw him talking to someone like Honey? As Jake shut the barn door, he sighed, deciding he didn't care about either. Honey had been his friend for years, long before high school or popularity, or stupid teenage rules. She'd never changed, she was still the girl he fell in love with all those years ago. That night, as he sat by the phone thinking of what to say, he'd heard the faintest knock on his door. He figured it was his Granny coming to tell him goodnight, so he made quick work of making his way to the door and flinging it open. Instead of his grandmother, Honey stood in front of him. She held an algebra textbook in her arms, her eyes never meeting his, her arms crossed protectively. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, tear streaks staining her cheeks. She'd been crying, and Jake knew Honey all too well, her tears had nothing to do with the algebra assignment. Something had happened to her.

"Uh, hey, I-I know it's late, and I didn't want to bother you, but I've been workin' on this stupid algebra assignment for three hours, and i-it's not making a lick of sense. You-You're the only person I know who could help me, so if you could just show me how to do one, I'll be out of your hair. I know you have a game tomorrow, and you should really sleep-"

Honey was rambling, picking the skin around her fingernails, she was nervous. It shattered his heart in his chest, he could never remember a time when she was nervous around him.

"No, no, you're fine, Honey. C'mere."

He opened the door wide for her to come in. She nodded in thanks, hovering awkwardly in the space between his bed and his desk. Any other time she'd plop herself down on his plaid comforter, all but curling into the sheets and falling asleep. Now, she didn't know what to do. She hadn't spoken to him in weeks, and he was different now. He wasn't just Jake, her Jake, he was Jake Seresin, up and coming star of their hometown football team, someone that a person like her should avoid in the hallway, someone that shouldn't even be talking to her.

He pushed the chair of his desk out for her, figuring she'd feel more comfortable there. She laid her textbook and notebook out flat, opening the book to the dozens of equations she couldn't make out. Honey was incredibly smart, but as her math classes advanced, she found herself staring at her own notes in utter confusion.

"Um, so, this is on polynomials," she started. "But I couldn't even tell you what a fuckin' polynomial is and I'm starting to lose my mind."

Jake quickly noted the physical manifestation of her worry-her hair messy with the way she had been running her hands through it, the chipped nail polish on her nails, and her chewing on her bottom lip. His heart ached, how had he not noticed her struggling? They were in the same class, she sat two chairs in front of him.

"Honey, I'm sorry."

She didn't even spare him a look.

"It's not your fault I'm stupid, Jake."

Jake took her arm in a light hold, turning her to look at him.

"I'm not talkin' about algebra, and you're not stupid, first of all. You're one of the smartest people I know. I'm talkin' about the way I've been actin'. It's not fair to you, I've been an ass. I've been ignoring you at school, treatin' you as if you aren't even there. You've come to all my games and I didn't even know. Thanks for that, by the way, but, I mean it, Honey. I'm sorry."

Honey shrugs, her face sprouting a faint pink blush.

"'S fine, people grow up, move on. You don't have to apologize for leaving me for people more like-minded. I get it, I don't necessarily fit the mold of your new friend group. It's okay. They seem to really like you though, and you seem happy. Plus Sam is...she's pretty. I get why you wouldn't want me hanging around."

"Sam?" Jake's voice was confused. Sam was a cheerleader, and she was friends with the girlfriends of his teammates. They had a passing conversation from time to time, but they weren't dating. "What're you talkin' about?"

Honey's brow furrowed, tapping her pencil's eraser against her book.

"Sam Vance told me like the third or fourth week of school that you were together, around the same time we stopped talking. I just assumed that was why you didn't want to talk anymore. It's sort of the reason I've kept my distance."

Jake's blood boiled, he was not dating Sam Vance. She was heinously mean, even to her own 'friends.'

"Honey," Jake started, his eyes full of sympathy, his flash of anger flickering. "I'm not dating her, not by a long shot. I don't know why she lied to you, I've never said more than a few sentences to one another, she's...mean. She's vicious, I'm sorry."

Honey's head only shook in a nonchalant manner. She was good at this, pushing people away, Jake had noticed it over the years. After years of practically raising herself, those she loved either abandoning her or leaving her in death, she expected everyone to leave. Honey herself knew that someday Jake would leave her, just like everyone else, so when he pulled away, she didn't bother trying to stop it, no matter how it hurt.

"Stop that. I know what I did was shitty, and it seemed like I didn't want you there, but this isn't me dumping you off, Honey. I swear. And I know something's wrong, you're not crying because of a homework assignment. If it's because of what happened between us, I'll do anythin' to make it up to you-"

Honey's bottom lip trembles, her eyes lining with tears as she shakes her head. She looks up at Jake, pain clouding her usually kind eyes.

"You don't have to worry about me, Jake."

"No I don't," he stated honestly. "I want to, Honey. You're my best friend, and you're hurtin'. You may not need me, but I want to help you. I know I haven't been a good friend, the worst actually, but talk to me, please."

Honey looks at her lap, bringing her knees to her chest in an action of protection Jake was familiar with-every time she has to get vulnerable, it's her defensive action, as if curling up in a ball would save her from hurt.

"For what it's worth," Honey started, her voice small and quiet. "I really don't understand polynomials, like, at all. But you're right, it's more than that." She pauses and takes a deep breath, Jake's heart shattering. Her inability to speak freely, the bags under her eyes, her nervous habit at the forefront-he'd never seen her so tired, so heavy.

"About a week ago, I came home and all of my mom's stuff was gone. I mean, all of it, her bedroom was completely empty. She left a note on the kitchen table." Her eyes focus on the Cowboys poster on the back of Jake's door, her eyes dulling. "She decided to move in with her boyfriend, and he-he doesn't even know she has a child, so she left the house for me. Which is fine, we never got along anyway, it's just been...lonely. She pays the bills and leaves money, so it's not like I'm fending for myself, but, it just really sucks she doesn't really care about me. I guess it shouldn't, but-" She pauses, eyes dazed out, silent tears running down her cheeks. "Sorry for the soapbox, I just, it all is piling up, and now I'm crying over polynomials." She laughs dryly. "Just, God I've missed you, Jake. I sort of pushed myself away from you because I thought you'd found people you'd rather spend your time with. I'm nothing like you interest wise, and-"

"Stop putting yourself down, I won't stand for it." Jake looks at her as she laughs in a quiet manner, hands wiping away her silent tears. Jake moves directly in front of her, making eye contact. "I mean it. You're ten times cooler than any of them. Most of the guys on the team, pretty laid back, cool, but all they ever want to talk about is football and how hot so-and-so is, and their girlfriends? Worse, by a thousand, at least most of them. I'd like to think I'm not that shallow, right?"

Jake Seresin was a lot of things, but shallow was not one of them.

"Please hang out with me tomorrow? I'll have Granny pick you up for school. You and I are going to talk until the bell rings, you've got to catch me up on that Scarlett girl in that book you were reading last time we talked. I'm sitting with you at lunch because Granny made me promise to bring you lunch, and you gotta catch me up on last week's Dawson's Creek episode. Then I'll see you at the game, and we can swing by The Burger Basket, you, me, burgers, fries, a strawberry shake for you and a chocolate one for me."

Honey laughed, nodding her head, her heart warming as she heard Jake ask for the things she thought he found annoying-her ranting about the books she was reading, or the TV shows she was watching. She wiped her tears, standing and hugging the blonde boy who knew her better than herself sometimes. Her chest felt lighter, it felt good to be known so incredibly well. He squeezed her tight before she let go. (Jake never, ever, let go first.) She sits back in the desk chair, sliding in next to Jake, her head falling on his shoulder.

"So," she spoke after a moment of silence. "Polynomials?"

Jake chuckles.

"Let's make a deal, Hon. I explain to you how to solve these equations, and you explain to me what the hell Shakespeare is talking about in those English assignments for Mrs. Elmer's class?"

Honey laughs, she and Jake were both good students, but in two very different subjects.

"You've got yourself a deal, J."

Jake smirks, taking the pencil that sat in the crevice of the book, his scratchy handwriting across her paper as he attempted to explain. In a matter of minutes, Honey began to understand, a smile forming as she grasped the concepts. Jake's green eyes met hers in the light of his desk lamp, glimmering, and the breath in his chest catches, his heart hammering. His palms sweat around the pencil and he can't look away from her.

"You alright, Seresin?" Honey's voice is laced with humor, and it snaps him out of his trance.

"Y-Yeah."

Jake had lied, he had just realized, for the first time since Jake had known Honey, he was beginning to see her as something more than just his best friend. When he looked at Honey, he noticed something he'd never noticed before, she was beautiful.

-

[livsbrutalitys-blog]

Unfinished business

Pt. 1

summary: you and Rhea have known each other since you were teenagers training at the same wrestling school except only one of you made it to the big screen but now it was time for you both to share that same fate.

pt.2|

trope: enemies to lovers

warning(s): SMUT (eventually), ANGST, swearing, yelling, DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA (lmk if i missed any)

pairing(s): rhea x f!reader, judgment day x reader (not romantic), and more but there’s to many :)

a/n: this is going to be a series, i’m not sure how many parts but this is my first time writing a series or anything like this so please be kind and if you have any helpful advice or tips lmk <3

Backstory

You had moved to Adelaide at the age of 16 to train at this very wrestling school. Luckily you had family that lived in Austrailia and your parents always let you follow your dreams and be your own person. Your first day at the school you had been so nervous slightly second guessing your re-location. Your nerves were suddenly calmed by a hand on your arm. Your head whipped around to see who was behind you.

"Hey my name is Demi, this your first day?" She said with a welcoming smile and her accent thick, it took you a moment to gather your thoughts because the girl that you had just met just so happened to also be the most beautiful girl you've ever met.

"uh-yeah, it's nice to meet you my name is y/n" you said sitting your bag down on the floor against the wall. You stood back up and started putting your hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of your face.

She stared at you like you hung the stares and the moon. You noticed her out of the corner of your eye, not thinking much of it at the time but you took note and stored this moment in the back of your brain.

" good to meet you y/n, can't wait to kick your ass out there" she said smirking at you waiting for what you were going to say. " Your on but be prepared to have your day ruined cause you have no idea what I'm capable of" you said walking close to her, tilting your head up slightly to meet her gaze.

She enjoyed the playful banter, she chuckled walking past you to go meet the trainer. You followed behind her just a few moments later after putting the rest of your things in your bag.

Once you made your way to the group that was training with you the trainer started to speak "Alright ladies and gentleman welcome back to another wonderful day of wrestling, How is everyone feeling today?". The group collectively said 'good', "Great now we are gonna start a little different today since you may have noticed with have a new student joining us today" He said pointing at you quickly, you did a small wave to everyone.

"Okay y/n we are gonna go over some of our basic rules real quick" you nodded waiting for him to speak again. "Rule one, when you are in the training area everyone goes by their ring name so if you have chosen yours, great, if not then get to choosing kid you have a free pass tonight but next session I wanna hear you using your ring name" he said waiting for you to nod or something so he could continue. But, you already had one picked out so you spoke up, "I actually already have one, it's the one I've been using since I was at my last wrestling school" you said in an up-beat tone. "Ok, well, let's hear it" he said impressed that you had already had one and felt confident using it at another facility. "It's y/r/n" you said with confidence, "Alright, sounds good, I like it, it's very original, good job kid" he said with a nod of approval.

"Alright and rule number two, do not and I mean absolutely do not bring your personal life into your wrestling life. You wanna date someone in this group, I'm not one to stand in the way of love but that love needs to say at the door." You nodded agreeing, you never planned to combine the two but it was a great rule to have.

"So, now that all of that is out of the way let's get to kicking some ass!" he said in a more energetic tone. "Y/r/n I want you to start us out, wanna see what you can do and what we need to work on, Rhea I want you in there with her" he said motioning towards the ring and moving out of the way to allow you two to slide in the ring and your now standing just a few inches apart.

You start feeling those familiar nerves build up in your gut. You let out a deep breath shoving those feelings down because it's not like you can walk out of the ring and fly back home now. Rhea noticed the anxious look on your face she mouthed to you as to not draw attention to you "You got this". That's all it took for a strong wave of confidence to wash over you.

"Okay, ladies we are gonna start with some basics" he said instructing you with a strong accent. "Let's go ahead and do some grappling" you waited for his cue to move towards the buff girl ahead of you. You lock up, her hands on your shoulders and yours on her shoulders shoving each other back and forth. Suddenly you dropped to the ground and perfectly executing an arm drag with her landing on her back.

She stood up but for that she smacked the mat in frustration. She was not messing around now, she was in full Rhea mode. You grabbed her arm and swung under it as you twisted her muscular limb. Once you fully up again she turned towards you with a look of discomfort on her face from her arm being twisted in an unnatural direction. In a split second her fist was connecting with your cheek, sending you down to the mat in pain. She wasted no time pouncing on you, grabbing a fist full of your hair in her hands, dragging you back up to your feet. Once you were back up you couldn't think of anything else so you just bitch slapped her. She let go of your hair to put a hand on her face and then glaring back at you. You were totally fucked.

"Alright, alright guys that was good and y/r/n I'm impressed to fair I didn't see a lot but you held your own and that's what I'm looking for" you smiled to yourself not wanting to seem conceited in anyway. Rhea stood behind you leaning in to whisper. "That was good and might I say you have one hell of a slap" she said pulling back with a chuckle. "How about this, you two are gonna have a match right here right now" you looked at Rhea to try and read her to see if she was up to it. "I'm down if you are y/r/n?" she said looking at you waiting for your response. "Of course, how could I pass up kicking your ass. Ripley" you said with a mischievous look on your face and saying the last part with a hint of aggression.

The bell rang and you two were sizing each other up. You made the first move, running to her and kneeing her in the stomach. She stumbled back to collect herself but you didn't let up throwing uncoordinated punches and slaps at her back while she was hunched over. She finally caught one of your hits and you realized you did not think this through. She pulled your arm and slung you into the corner, once you hit the turnbuckle you looked up and she was hurdling towards you and she jumped up and dropped kicked you right in the chest. That blow sent you crumbling to the mat laying there clutching your chest and coughing. She pulled you up and threw your limp body over her broad shoulders carrying back to the same turnbuckle and sitting you on the very top. A surge of adrenaline rushed through you as you slowly sat back up as she was climbing to meet you at the top of the ropes. You used all you strength to push her off. She stumbled back in shock as to how you mustered up the strength to fight back. You waited till she was fully alert again and stood up tall on the top rope you jumped putting all your faith in your aim and in Rhea's ability to catch you. You landed on her shoulders and then slung your body down to send her flying, her doing a messy front flip from all the momentum traveling through her body.

The match went on for about another five minutes and you guys were laid out on the mat. You decided to take advantage of getting up before her. You decided to submit her because all of your pin attempts have failed miserably. You locked in a prism lock, she was writhing below you and you were using all your strength to hold her up eventually you couldn't anymore so you placed a knee on her upper back and twisted her like a pretzel. She finally smacked the mat, giving into your torture.

You dropped her body to the mat and looked down at her. You squatted down to her and leaned your head in to whisper "What was all that talk about you kicking my ass huh?" She groaned and glared up at you. "I'll get you next time" and she wasn't kidding, after that day you guess had a heated rivalry going.

Even though you guys had a serious rivalry going you never hated her and you two knew that the tension and fighting was only improving both of your wrestling abilities.

One day a couple years later you were 21 and Rhea had just turned 22. You two were still training at the same school but now you were training the younger students while also competing in the indie circuit. You had become the the IWJP champion in your time in Japan, and now making your way inside the facility to do some training and teaching later that day. You sat your things down and you were tying your hair up, once it was up you stood up from your crouched position and turned around unexpectedly she was also here. You didn't think she would be here since she had been in the U.S trying out for WWE NXT, you had felt a lot of jealousy towards her for that, it had always been your dream to make it to WWE but she managed to do it before you.

You walked past her with no intention on speaking to her since you knew how you felt and she did to. She saw you walk past and felt a little hurt you didn't at least wave or say a quick greeting. She hopped of the ring apron and made her way over to you. " Aw is someone still mad that I managed to get a try out and they wouldn't even think to reach out to you" she said with a mocking tone, now was not the time for her to be messing with you. Your head slowly turned towards her "You know what Rhea soon the WWE is gonna realize who really belongs there and it's not you. In the meantime I'll be in Japan as a matter of fact across the world gaining more titles while your still just training to hopefully even make it on TV. So, you have fun in states just hoping you make at least one TV appearance I'll be here putting in work and carrying a new title every time you come back" you said glaring up at her and speaking with an aggressive tone. She chuckled at what you said but you both knew she was gonna make it and you were just upset she wasn't gonna be here for much longer. It was true you were gonna miss her even when she destroyed you in the ring.

"You know what y/r/n, your delusional, you'll never see the inside of a WWE ring unless it's from the stands and you paid to be there. I'll be on the big screen and you'll still be here training other people, not even trying to make any of your dreams come true" you were stunned at her sudden aggression but to be honest you were used to squabbles like this with Rhea. You nodded and walked away flipping her off as you were making your way over to the lifting area. She chuckled and went back into the ring she was training in.

Suddenly Rhea's phone rang and you heard it from where you were since the building wasn't that big. She walked over to her back that was on the stairs beside the ring. She quickly grabbed her phone and answered it. You only heard a few yes's and some ok's coming from her but you also saw the nodding of her head but what was most noticeable was the growing excitement on her face as her eyes lit up she said a quick "ok thank you so much, I'll be there in the afternoon tomorrow" her accent thicker than ever caused by the amount of excitement. She hung up and quickly gathered her things, she was quickly making her way out of the building but before that she went up to same trainer she had been working with since she was young girl. You couldn't hear what was said but you saw them share a quick hug and the look on his face was one of a proud father.

You hadn't seen or heard from her in months. You called and texted but to no avail. Where did she go? Is she ok? Can she just please respond to me?

You tried texting her again but gave up hope. You were sat on your couch in your small apartment, you decided to turn on the TV and watch WWE NXT UK. The show started and you weren't paying much attention as you had started scrolling on Instagram. That was until you heard something that caught your attention immediately. The ring announcer was saying her name, you almost thought you were hearing things that was until she appeared on your screen. She looked so different, her hair was short and a light shade of brow, her outfit was dark and edgy. Your mouth hung open as you saw her, you watched the match in shock and a little bit of anger. It was nearing the end and Rhea was going for her finisher, little did you know she took some inspiration from you and locked in your signature prism lock. This bitch really stole my move, you thought. After she won and held her first title a fire was lit inside you and you worked harder than ever to catch her and prove that you deserve to be there too.

Present day

You had been apart of a new wrestling promotion in the US called AEW. It was WWE's biggest rivalry, you were so close but after a few years of working your way up to the top you were finally happy. You were sat on the plane checking your email while waiting to land in the next city, that's when you saw an email that stuck out. It was from your agent, the agent you were kind of forced to get since you were one of if not the biggest female wrestler in the world right now, you held so many titles across the world but mostly in Japan and AEW. You opened the email and it read:

Good morning y/n I hope this finds you well. I have just received a call from WWE management and they really want to talk to you about signing with them. I know how we have talked about making it to the big time and now it's here. The decision is all yours, please call me once you land and we can talk more.

Your hand covered your face in disbelief. Your friends noticed and they nudged you snapping you out of your thoughts. "Hey you ok?" Your close friend Ruby said. "Yeah, I just got an email from my agent s'all " you said glancing at her then back down to your email. "Oh, really, what'd it say?" she said inquisitively "Uh, nothing everything's good, I'm just dramatic" you tried to distract her from earlier by being sarcastic. You felt bad that you couldn't tell her but if you were gonna make the move it had to be done in secret to really keep it a surprise.

You got off the plane and immediately called your agent. You spoke with her for a few minutes and luckily you there wasn't a show tonight because now you were jumping in your rental car and drove for about 2 hours to a city close by to meet with WWE management. You haven't decided if you were gonna leave AEW yet but you wanted to hear what they had to offer. You made it to the arena WWE was performing in that night and went in the back to avoid being spotted by fans or talent.

"Hi, y/n it's great to finally meet you" Stephanie said sticking her hand out for a handshake. "It's great to meet you too, Stephanie, I'm excited to hear what you guys are planning" you shook her hand firmly. You walked behind the powerful woman. You finally made it to her office for the night, "please have a seat, make yourself comfortable, who knows maybe this'll become your new home" she said motioning to the couch as she sat across from you in a comfortable looking arm chair. You chuckled at the last part of what she said, "ok y/n we have a few idea's" she said making her self comfortable and crossing her legs making eye contact with you.

"Alright let's hear 'em" you said looking at her. "So as you might know we have Wrestlemania coming up in a month and I'd love for you to be apart of it. We already have a match going on for the Women's World Title" you nodded and she continued "We want you to start your WWE journey by interfering in the finish of the match. Our title holder is Rhea Ripley." the name sent shivers down your spine. You didn't know she was the title holder since you had stopped watching WWE when you joined the rival company. It had been years since you saw her or heard anything more than a brief mention of her reign of dominance on the women's division.

"I understand you two have a long history" you nodded hiding the look of nervousness on your face. She continued to explain her plan and you liked it a lot. The feelings you had for Rhea had reappeared as she continued to talk. "You know what Stephanie" you pause briefly, "I'm in, let's do this" you said with a wave of confidence washing over you. She looked at you with pure excitement in her eyes. "Alright well I'm glad to hear that, I'm even more excited to have you joining our family your gonna fit in just perfect here" she said as she initiated a quick hug. You hugged her back, you were walking out of the arena and back to your car as you saw something. It was quick but it caught all your attention, you saw a broad figure, backside facing you. She was walking in, she didn't see you thank god. But you surely saw her. She was more muscular than you remember, her hair was black like a raven and her skin was covered in beautiful works of art. The tattoo's she had always talked about wanting to get.

You made the journey back to your designated city for the night and you laid in your bed. You emailed your agent and let her know what happened with Stephanie. Your agent called you and then discussed the next steps. She contacted AEW management and set up a meeting with them. The meeting was happening the next night before the show.

You did your nightly routine and climbed into bed. Your thoughts were all over the place but finally you drifted off to sleep. Once you woke up you hopped in the shower. You got out and got dressed and ready to head to the arena. On your way there you were nervous to tell your management about your decision to leave. You made it to the arena and walked inside, waving at the fans that were camped out at the fence and walked up to few kids that wanted pictures. You always loved talking to the fans because you were human too. You got to the locker room and put your stuff up. You found your agent waiting outside and you two walked to Tony's office and knocked on the door, he answered "come on in" he said moving to the side as he held the door open for you and your agent. After about an hour of discussion, you and the team had devised a plan for your last night. You were gonna drop your title, the AEW TBS Championship, to your long time friend, Julia Hart. You had no problem doing this since you viewed her as a little sister, she deserved the title and you were over the moon that you'd be able to give it to her.

You asked if you could be the one to tell her since you also had to tell her that you would be leaving. You waited for her to get to the arena, "Hi gorgeous" she said in a giddy tone as she hugged you. "Oh, hi, how was your drive" you said happily returning her embrace. "Ugh, I hate being stuck in the car with those guys, y'know, it's like a testosterone overload 24/7" you laughed at her "I'm sorry you had to be stuck in there, buuuuuutttt I have some good and bad news for you" you said to her as she finished putting her things up. She gasped "Someone finally told MJF to shut the hell up!!" you laughed once more as did she "no, no, no, but someone should really do that" you said with a brief pause. "you, my friend" you said pointing at her and taking a step forward "you are going over tonight" you said waiting for her to say something. "OH MY GOD WHAT!" she said jumping up and down with excitement and jumping into your arms. "wait" she letting go of you, "who's putting over" she said confused and you pointed to your self. "WHAT! oh my god, we get to finally have a match together!" she said with more excitement.

You guys had been clamoring for a match together but it always got shut down. Tears threatened to spill as you saw how excited she was. "I can't wait for them to announce you as champion tonight Jules" you said going for another hug. "What? Your dropping your title? To me? NO! You are the greatest champion this promotion has ever seen you cant just drop it to me!" she said with a little anger and a hint of sadness as she got a feeling of what the bad news might be. "Julia you deserve it, you've worked your ass of to get here and it's time for the world to show you some respect" you said convincingly, she nodded as you continued. "Ok now the bad news" you paused glancing to her, "Tonight is my last match" you both became teary eyed, she knew that was coming as soon as you said she was gonna be champion.

"I-i-i can't believe it. Your really leaving?" She questioned you hoping that she heard you wrong. "Yes, and I'm leaving knowing that my best friend is gonna be champion and is gonna continue kicking ass" you said trying to cheer her up. It was part of the business, friends leave and move on to other things, you both knew this very well and understood. "Thank you y/n, Thank you for trusting me enough for you to drop your title to me" she said. You nodded not being able to speak since you were torn up about leaving her.

You made your final entrance with your title, putting on your mean face as you made your way down the ramp. Julia's music hit and she made her was down the ramp and to the ring. The match lasted for 10 minutes, that was 10 minutes of you trying to soak up every last bit of the crowds energy. She finally got the 3 count and rose up off the mat, grabbing the title and holding it high. The show went to a commercial break as the lights dimmed slightly you two embraced each other tightly, not knowing when you'll see each other again. The crowd noticed at the last second and let out a simultaneous "Awe" you held her and pulled away and grabbed her face and whispered to her. "I believe in you, you can do this, keep being you, do what you do best a whoop ass, ok?" you said to her as she nodded soaking up your words of encouragement. "I love you, Jules, if you ever need me, you know where to reach me" you said "Ok, I will and if you need me just call me, good luck, I love you y/n" you kissed the top of her head and pulled away and walked away, out of the ring, leaving her in there alone with her music playing loudly as she held up her title with confidence. She glanced at you making your way back stage, you felt her glance and turned around and waved her goodbye and blew her kiss with a smile at your face feeling proud of her.

You got to your locker room and got ready to leave. You said goodbye to all your friends and acquaintances, you walked out teary eyed. You got back to your hotel and laid on the bed lost in your thoughts as your phone started going off. You grabbed it and unlocked it, your comment section was going crazy with a mix of the fans emotions some sad, some happy, some started speculating what might be going on. None of them guess right though. You plugged your phone up for the night and drifted of to sleep.

You woke up to Stephanie calling you and asking you to meet her in Florida at the PC. You jumped on the first flight out and while you were on your flight you scrolled through Instagram. Swiping through stories and the biggest news on your feed was you and Julia's match last night. You went to her account and saw she posted a heart-felt message that made you tear up a bit. The message ended the way you thought it would, at the bottom it read:

"...But in the end, The house always wins."