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cameronspecial · 7 months

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Let Me Handle It, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Blackmailing, Being Sick, Threatening to Kill Someone, Mentions of An Affair

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

Summary: Y/N stresses about not being able to take a test after missing it because she is sick, but good thing Rafe is here to help.

Masterlist

He can hear tiny sniffles coming from inside of his room. He opens the door to see the wet globs coming from her eyes and the tiny shrivel of her nose confirms his assumption that she is crying. Her hand tugs at the opposite sleeve of his oversized hoodie that she wears. As soon as their eyes lock, he rushes to sit on the bed and pulls her onto his lap. “What’s wrong, my sweet angel?” he coos, unsticking her hair from the wet trail on her face it attached itself to so that he can look into her eyes. She takes a second to steady her breathing, “Y-you kn-know how I had that test today, but I’ve been puking all week so I couldn’t go?” He nods his head for her to continue. “Well, I emailed my professor at the beginning of the week asking if I could do it another day. He said that I would need to show him a doctor's note before the end of the day for that to happen. I tried telling him that I tried everything all week to get one, but my doctor doesn’t have a free appointment, the clinic can’t give me one because they aren’t my regular doctor and the hospital won’t even see me. So, now, I’m going to lose 20% of my mark because I was sick.”

Rafe listens carefully to her little rant, growing angry at each hoop his sick girlfriend had to go through just to get something as trivial as a redo test. She had been studying every chance she could get, even through her sickness. Rafe knows how serious Y/N is about her grades and school. After all, she needs some great grades to get into grad school. He would never think twice about losing 20% of his grade because all he wants to do is pass the class, which is perfectly doable without that. However, Y/N, especially with her anxiety, needs every percent she can get and Rafe wasn’t going to let some old shit with a stick up his ass stop her from doing so. “It’s going to be okay. Let me handle it, angel,” he assures, kissing her temple.

——

The line to the professor’s office is three people deep. All of them are waiting to enter for his office hours, but Rafe is not going to take the chance of not talking to him. He stares down the first guy in line and walks to the front of the line. From the guy’s smell, he must be an engineering major. No one says anything about Rafe’s actions because he has a well-known reputation on campus. The door opens to the office and Rafe doesn’t wait for the student inside to walk out. The wrinkles on the professor’s forehead crate a v, a frown falling onto his face. “I don’t believe you are in any of my classes,” he states, trying to pinpoint if he has seen Rafe in any of his lectures. Rafe shakes his head in a low chuckle, “No, I am not, Professor Smith. But my girlfriend is. You may remember her from the email you sent her, Y/N Y/L/N.” “Ah, yes. I do remember her. Unless you have the doctor's notes or are a doctor, then I am afraid I can’t do anything. It’s not my fault she didn’t plan accordingly,” Smith comments, not looking up from his laptop.

Rafe closes the teacher’s laptop. This causes the man to look at him and he gives him a threatening smile. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t have any notes. But my angel won’t be needing one,” he sings, running his finger along the desk. The elder’s head tilts, “Really? And why would that be?” Rafe’s grin turns almost psychotic.

“Because I know a little secret about where you like to spend your Sunday nights. I have a lot of photographic evidence that I’m sure the university and your wife would love.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Let’s not play this game. My frat brother also likes to visit the little lady you like to have a dalliance with and he told me everything she told him. If that doesn’t convince you, then maybe the piece in my nightstand drawer will.”

The bob of the professor’s Adam’s apple is very evident, “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

“Nice to see you finally caught up on what is going on. Now, are you going to do what I asked?”

Smith looks at Rafe with wide eyes and the points of his lips stretch. He can see the seriousness on Rafe’s face. His head gives a small nod, “Y-yes. I think I can do something for Ms. Y/L/N.” “That’s great. Let’s type her a nice apologetic email. And if you even think about telling anyone about this, then you might just find yourself six feet under,” Rafe intimidates, reopening the laptop for the professor.

——

Wind passes through her hair as she makes her way towards Rafe. Her smile rivals the sun and she jumps into his arms. Her legs wrap around his waist. He grips the back of her thighs to keep her up. “What has you so happy, my angel? Only I’m allowed to do that,” Rafe complains, peppering kisses all over her face. She giggles at the assault of his lips, “Professor Smith let me redo the test without a doctor’s note. I got a 100%.” Rafe lets out a cheer, spinning her around. “That’s so great! You work so hard. I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praises. She gives her his thanks as she tells him in detail about her test, talking about how she figured out a question she got a little stuck on. He nods and listens, spotting the professor out of the corner of his eye. Professor Smith becomes frightened and he quickly looks away from Rafe. He smirks at the professor’s reaction, returning his full gaze to his girl.

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andsomemaniacgotridofthewheel · 2 months

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There are a couple of things about Aziraphale that I think we, as a fandom*, focus too much on and get it slightly wrong in the process.

*= I am talking about the regular Good Omens fandom and Aziraphale fans here, not including the Aziraphale haters, who can skip this post because they wouldn't care or understand anyway.

First of all, yes, Heaven is an abusive work environment. The angels in charge are bullies, while Aziraphale is a sweet little cinnamon roll. Absolutely no question there.

And yes, Aziraphale is scared that his relationship with Crowley is discovered. Again, elementary, my dear Watson.

But he is always much more scared for Crowley, if Hell would ever find out, than he is for himself. He's terrified that something could happen to Crowley (see Edinburgh leading to the whole Holy Water blow-up). He knows, or can at least imagine, what Hell would do to Crowley, and he wouldn't even be able to get to him, much less help. Maybe not even immediately realise when it happened.

But he himself has been lying to God and Heaven from the very beginning (what he says to the Starmaker in Before the Beginning, about not wanting to get him into trouble, proves that he was always wary and filtering his words carefully). He lied directly to God's face right after Eden. And he always got away with it. We see him getting more and more comfortable with it during the millennia.

Yes, he sometimes still gets nervous when he faces a surprise or a new threat and he has to think on his feet, but he does it. Every time.

But we are tending to treat him like a little scaredy cat that lives in constant terror of Heaven, and I don't think that's the case. In later centuries he knows that he can run circles around the archangels when it comes to Earth, because he is the expert and they are absolutely clueless. Earth is his domain, where he holds all the power. (Or at least, all the knowledge, which some philosophies argue is the same.)

And while he is much more naive than his book counterpart in his belief that Heaven is good and Hell is bad, this also isn't as extreme as we sometimes make it out to be.

He knows what Sandalphon did during Sodom and Gomorrah. He knows what God did to people with the Flood. He knows what God did to Job. He was told - or is telling himself - it was just, and even that he already started to doubt. With Job, he knew it wasn't.

He hasn't, as I just read in an otherwise rather similar post, been drilled to believe that the Apocalypse is the end goal. He was taught it was inevitable. That it was Hell's end goal. That Heaven winning (what Hell would start) was inevitable - and just! And that was what made him believe that when he finds a way to make it not inevitable, the other angels would have no choice other than to support him, that God herself would want to support him, because they're supposed to be the good guys. And when he learns that that is not the case, he still immediately goes on to do it by himself. He isn't unsure, after he stepped into the circle, when the military angel tries to draft him for the war, or pondering what he should do. He spends the whole time trying to figure out how to get back to earth, and when he discovers a possibility, he doesn't even hesitate for a second.** And when he leaves Earth to take the job as the Supreme Archangel, he does so because he believes he can change it into what he still thinks it should be, knowing full well what it is.

Now I, personally, am not with the nihilistic / resigned Gen-Z crowd who seem to think that trying to change things is stupid, because only violent revolutions and total destruction of existing structures could achieve any real change, and that Aziraphale somehow has to apologise for believing otherwise and trying. (?) Maybe that's because as an elder millennial I can rest in the knowledge that I won't be around when our planet becomes uninhabitable, or maybe it's because I was actually alive to witness the collapse of the USSR, which, incidentally, was pretty much the same time at which Good Omens was written.

Which brings me to my next point.

I don't want to take anything away from fans who relate to Aziraphale because they themselves have experienced religious trauma. He is certainly a powerful metaphor for it. But Aziraphale the character does not experience religous trauma, because he doesn't experience religion.

The existence of God, of Angels, the creation of the world in 7 days, those are not beliefs for Aziraphale, they are simple facts. He has actually witnessed them, he has worked on some of them himself, he is an angel himself. He knows how everything works (or where it doesn't). He isn't a human who has free will and is supposed to have faith, who gets to interpret and re-interpret and guess at how it all works while forming self-important little groups around it and lay it down as law for anyone who wants to join (or remain). It's simply his job. (Well, job for life, and the whole reason for his own existence, but still his job.) God is literally just his boss. A largely absentee boss, but still his boss. He actually even talked to Her at least once.

For angels and demons, Heaven and Hell are not religions, but simple work environments (with certain accompanying ideologies). In the book, being 30 years older than the show, the two sides are quite open references to the two sides in the cold war, and Crowley and Aziraphale are likened to spies in the field. (Pretty much the only thing remaining from that in the show are the St. James Park Bench scenes.)

And I would like people to start remembering that. Aziraphale is not a traumatized little kid who tries to escape a religious cult. He is a Secret Agent who is walking the very dangerous line of collaborating with an Enemy Secret Agent, undermining both their nations and their ideologies at the same time. (Think John Le Carré characters rather than James Bond.) He is afraid of dangers that are very real, but that he has faced and flaunted during his whole career. He knows what he's doing. Which also means he knows what's at stake. And yeah, that is terrifying, naturally. (Again, John Le Carré writes those kind of spy stories brilliantly.)

But Aziraphale is the fucking Angel of the Eastern Gate. He was issued a flaming sword that he gave away against his orders because he believed it to be the right thing to do. Who befriended his demon enemy because he liked him, more than he ever liked anyone from his own side. And who is basically using the seven deadly sins as a to-do-list. That he has a sweet little face that lights up like a christmas tree when he's happy and in love, or that he still believes in the basic goodness and justice of the world, or that he tries to be kind or at least polite whenever he can, does not take anything away from that.

And for the 2nd Coming in season 3 he will be what Crowley was for Armageddon in season 1: The Inside Man.

**= Here I would also like to add that again, as much as I was disappointed for not getting the tv evangelist scene in the show, book!Aziraphale is still much less naive and more cynical about Heaven's goodness - even while show!Aziraphale's defiance of Heaven is much more outspoken and obvious, I can't actually imagine him delivering the whole "if that's your idea of a morally acceptable time" speech.

#good omens #aziraphale #az fell #azira fell #good omens aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #good omens book #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens thoughts #good omens season 3 #good omens season 1 #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #good omens show #good omens tv show

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woongisi · 4 months

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Brand New God // Choi Jongho

sub!Choi Jongho x dom!fem!reader // SMUT

WC// 3.2k

Synopsis// Jongho was the perfect son in the eyes of the church. It was your mission to change that. Opportunity comes once he consumes you with a particularly sinful confession.

Warnings// blasphemy, corruption, angst for a bit, oral (male receiving), no protection (pls use it even for oral), improper use of confessional booths, dacryphilia if you squint

Author's Note// This has been a long time in the making. Hope my other religious trauma mfs enjoy it as much as I do. Title is an iDKHOW reference. ☺︎♡

---------

Jongho wasn't the preacher's son, but he may as well have been. Never late to mass, always helping the elders, scolding the children, the whole lot of it. Sung in the choir. Formerly an altar boy. The envy of every parent's eye.

He was always excited to see you even if he had to preface his greeting by asking why you missed mass yet again. Despite his general duties and all he was never much of an extrovert. You always felt the air of awkwardness that hung around him when he approached you. If anything gave away that he was happy to see you… it was his glossy eyes and trembling smile that he tried so hard to suppress.

Being the son every parent wanted had its perks but many downfalls in the end. Most of the other people your age had largely abandoned the strictness of their faiths. Many still kept their beliefs but no longer felt such pressure to be perfect. In turn, they tended to find Jongho annoying.

You, however? Something about him was cute. Just how nervous he was to speak to you. The deep blush that he tried to hide whenever he told you that you looked pretty. You told yourself you only really went to church out of obligation, but now you'd begun to think you were there for him more than anything. You knew he was perfect. You knew almost for a fact that he'd never touched anyone else or even himself. You'd love to ruin him but at the same time you'd accepted you'd never get to.

Right?

Something about today was different. Jongho's face was red the second he saw you, red before he'd so much as stood up to greet you.

“Miss! You look pretty as always.” He piped up and almost immediately turned to skitter away. Only stopping once you grabbed the sleeve of his shirt.

“Thank you, Jongho. Always the gentleman. You look quite handsome today yourself.” You smiled and ruffled his hair a bit. “You seem nervous. Are you alright? Are you sick?”

“N-no I’m ok!” Jongho avoided your gaze like his life depended on it. “Lying is a sin, Jongho, lying is a sin.” He whispered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Ok, look! Can… Can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Jongho swore he'd just passed on. There was no way. No girl his age had ever called him that before… only the little old ladies.

“You- What- Ok, ok come on just follow me, alright?”

Jongho led you back to the confession booths. They were somewhat secluded, given the nature of their use. Standing with your back pressed against the wall, Jongho couldn't even hold eye contact as he stood sheepishly in front of you.

“I- Last night-” Jongho huffed and hid his face. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” You smirked. “I'm not here to judge. It's just kinda cute seeing you so nervous.”

“Cute…? Anyway! Gosh! Last night I…” One glance at the low hem of your shirt had shut him down. “Never mind. It's ok! I don't wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Get in the goddamn booth.”

“W-What? First, don't use the Lord’s name in vain. Second… what?”

“Just pretend I'm the priest, k? You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Jongho?”

“This feels wrong, but… fine.”

Jongho sat in the booth and closed the curtains with trembling hands. He'd sat in this exact spot so many times and confessed to so many little sins. Little white lies, things that weren't even necessarily sins that he simply felt guilt for. This time he couldn't shake the anxiety.

Situated on the other half, you slid the small wooden door to the side to reveal the rectangular screen that kept you both apart.

“Right. Now tell me what's got you so bothered?”

Shame devoured Jongho from head to toe. He couldn't even believe he was sitting here letting you play priest. Why the hell was he doing this? Couldn't he just tell the actual priest when it was time for confession?

“Well, last night I had a dream.”

His voice has gotten low. You could tell he was trying hard not to stutter and could almost picture his eyebrows furrowed as he picked at his nails.

“I had a dream about a girl.”

“Mhm? What's odd about that?”

“She…” Jongho sighed. “She was touching me.”

“Like a hug?” You caught on to the fact it wasn't anything innocent in an instant but took any chance you could to hear Jongho confess. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience after all.

“N-No. She was on her knees, she was dragging her nails along my thighs.”

“Ah, those thick thighs of yours? I see.”

Jongho chose to ignore that charged comment.

“She leaned down and put her mouth on my- uh- privates. And… why am I telling you this?!”

“Just relax. Let it out.”

“Ok…” The memories from the night before raced through the boy's brain. He felt like he might faint. “She bobbed her head up and down. Told me I looked handsome. Looked up at me with those shining eyes… didn't stop until I… you know.”

Jongho had slumped against the backboard of the booth, evident by the creaking. His hands nervously fidgeted with the hem of his striped wool sweater.

“She was just so beautiful, y/n… she looked like a dream.” A moment’s silence. “I mean I guess she was a dream. I just feel so filthy. I've never had a dream about that. I've never thought about someone like that. I've never even-”

You cut his rambling off. “Kissed someone? Touched yourself?”

“Both of those…” he murmured. “The worst thing about the dream is that we weren't married.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

“Was this girl me?”

“Yeah…” Jongho’s head hit the wall with a light thud.

The next thing he heard was shuffling, the cracks of old wood, and the curtain being shoved to the side.

“W-wait! I'm sorry… just… don't go.” He shot to sit straight up. “Forget what I said. Please, you're my only real friend.”

You swore you heard his voice crack at the end.

“The others our age aren't kind to me. I pretend it doesn't bother me and remember the Lord has a plan for me, but… you can only take so long of being surrounded by old people and little kids before you start to wonder what's wrong with you.”

He was undoubtedly crying now.

“You're probably already gone. Great job, Jongho, you ruined the only thing you had. Loser.”

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. Unbelievable. He was what the kids wanted to grow up to be like, yet he had such a low opinion of himself?

He about jumped out of his skin once you pulled his curtain away just enough to look in at him. Though it hurt to see him like this, he did look gorgeous. His full cheeks were a rosy pink, his lashes clumped together by the big wet tears that rolled down his face. You hated how it turned you on. Just a bit.

“Y-you didn't leave?”

“Oh, Jongho…” You pouted and extended your hand out to him. “No, I wouldn't leave without a word. I wouldn't leave, period.”

When he took your hand into his you could tell his body was shaking. Though he moved to stand up, it didn't last long before he was dropped on his knees, hand still on yours. You found yourself following shortly behind.

Jongho was properly sobbing in every regard, chest heaving, his mouth babbling nonsense to beg you for forgiveness. You shook away his hand and knelt to one knee. Placing a hand upon his shoulder was the only act it took for his arms to reach around your waist and pull himself against you, his face buried in your neck, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt like you were going to disappear.

“Jongho…”, You rubbed circles on his back. “Come on. Look at me.”

Jongho obliged with hesitation, still avoiding looking into your eyes. You, of course, followed his eyes.

“I'm no prude. You can't get rid of me that easily. I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. I didn't know you felt so alone, but, honestly… words aren't enough right now.”

You leaned in and placed a kiss on Jongho’s cheek. It was salty, but his skin was smooth against your lips. He flinched in shock but once you pulled away, he found himself wanting more.

His voice was barely above a whisper. “Wait. Can you do that again? Please… this time on my-”

You didn't let him finish his sentence before swooping back in and taking his lips into your own. He gasped so sweetly into your mouth, he tasted like honey and hints of sweetened coffee. Undoubtedly his breakfast.

“Follow my lead, okay?” Jongho was quick to agree.

Based on watching him suck on his bottom lip when he was nervous, you'd figured they'd be soft. They were pillowy, warm, and tasted like vanilla chapstick. His large hand had a death grip on your wrist and you could tell he was riddled with anxiety.

“Jongho, fuck. You taste so good.” You sighed deeply back into the kiss. Jongho's returned advances were shy but undoubtedly needy. The kiss was broken only long enough for you to take his ear lobe gently in your mouth, exercising care not to catch on his studded earring.

Jongho flinched and whined before melting into your touch once more. His mind felt hazy, sluggish, but oh so happy. He’d never dreamed of feeling this way. He didn’t expect to feel any kind of sexual gratification until he was married… whenever that may have been. The guilt he felt for letting you go at his neck in the middle of his lifelong church was immense, but part of him found it unbelievably hot.

“Mmh, please,” Jongho’s hand rested on the back of your head. “Don’t stop.”

“You can touch me, honey.” You smirked and shimmied your jacket off your shoulders. “Wherever you want. I’m yours to explore.”

Jongho was nothing short of eager, with his hands starting to roam the shape of your body. Every stripe you licked down his neck and every sloppy kiss brought forth unholy noises from his throat. His warmly tinted skin blossomed in shades of purple and blue with your manipulation. You’d just have to give him some of your concealer.

“Jongho?”

“Yes, dear? His head slumped forward with a pant.

“Your dream. Wanna make that a reality?”

“What? Isn’t that a-”

“Sin? Mhm. If you don’t sin a bit then Jesus died for nothing.” You giggled. “Besides, it can’t get much worse than what we’re doing already.”

Jongho thought for only a moment before whining and nodding eagerly.

You removed yourself from Jongho and leapt to your feet. “Ok, well we shouldn’t do that right here on the floor. Come on, get back in the booth.”

Jongho leaned back against the wooden wall with his hands bracing himself on the railing.

“Gonna unbutton those pants, alright?” As usual, Jongho was outfitted in slim-fitting black dress pants and a white button-up, complete with a black tie. He truly did look stunning even if you’d never be able to get him to accept it.

Jongho inhaled deeply, watching your every move as you dropped to your knees and fumbled with the clasp of his belt. Undoing it, you waited a moment to fully pull his pants down.

“You’re hard, Jongie~.” You cooed and rubbed the back of his thigh. “Have you ever been hard before?”

“Not outside the ones you get through puberty… or when you're scared for a presentation… well, not until that dream.” One hand brushed your hair out of your face.

“Oh? Sweet boy. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Soon enough, Jongho had shrugged his neatly ironed slacks to the floor. Your intuition told you he’d be big… But fuck. He really was. His boxers weren’t tight-fitting in any regard, but the tent formed in them was considerable.

“Oh hell, Jongho! Seriously?! This is what you’ve been keeping from the world all this time.” You groaned and fidgeted with the rim of one of the legs of his boxers. You glanced up long enough to catch his deep brown eyes staring down intently. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you a bit antsy to be under his gaze like this.

“I got you, ok?” Jongho hummed nervously at your words.

Your hand moved across the form of his dick just enough to give him an idea of what to expect from this. The way he jolted was enough to let you know he enjoyed it. You rubbed your hand over him with a flat palm and relished in the girth you could already tell he possessed underneath the fabric.

“You’re so fucking big, damn, did you even realize that?” Jongho shook his head feverishly.

“N-no… am I really?” Jongho felt his heart skip a beat, his hand hovering over you.

You could feel his presence over you and grabbed his hand, moved it to your hair, and gave it a reassuring pat. His fingers scratched at your scalp as if on instinct, soothing himself to the feeling. Every movement of your palm sent electric shocks up his spine.

Deciding it was due time for more, you inquired as to whether you could remove his boxers… met with an overwhelming agreeance. His cock sprung from under the confines of his underwear, causing him to wince at the newly cold air. His length was nothing to laugh at, you’d be a fool not to note the considerable circumference and upward curve as well. He was unshaven as you expected with curly black-brown hair over the expanse of his balls and above the base of his dick. He had a rather prominent happy trail which, fittingly, made you incredibly happy. He was circumcised with the skin around the head a shade lighter than the rest. The tip glistened with pre-cum in the dim light. Jongho squirmed under your watch.

“I-is something wrong? Do you not want to anymore…?”

“I… I’m kind of in shock honestly. Your dick is almost as pretty as you… almost.”

Jongho whined and gripped your hair lightly in response. Your free hand caressed the expanse of his firm thighs, the other encasing the head of his dick.

“A-ah, careful!” Jongho resisted the need to buck his hips against your touch. “I-I’m sensitive. Really.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, gathered a considerable amount of drool in the space of your cheeks, and let it run down onto him. The warm sensation melted the boy’s mind. You gave him a few languid strokes to spread the makeshift lube along the length of his shaft. Using three fingers, you rubbed a deliberate line up the prominent vein situated on the underside of his cock. Jongho’s labored breathing filled the confined space with need.

“Such a pretty thing, you are.” You purred and left a quick peck just below Jongho’s navel. “Such a needy boy.” Your movements matched up with your strokes and fondles.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Don’t worry about replying, babe. Just listen to me.”

Jongho stroked your cheek with trembling hands. “You’re so beautiful.” His words almost carried a pout and made your heart melt. They felt sincere. Like you could trust them. He meant it outside the heat of the moment.

You met Jongho’s gaze tenderly. “So, you meant it all those times, didn’t you? All the times you greeted me before mass?”

Jongho’s voice was velvety smooth in his response. “Of course I did. Even besides lying being a sin… I’ve always thought so from the first time I saw you. Always…”

“Oh, Jongho… Jongho by the time I’m done with you, you’re only going to want to worship to me.”

Feeling you’d worked him up enough by now, you took his cock into your mouth, giving him time to adjust to the new feeling. You hollowed your cheeks and sunk your head further down around him, embracing the struggle once his length hit the back of your throat. Your gag panicked Jongho, urging him to nervously make sure you’re okay. You lent him a reassuring rub to his thigh, taking his cock back into your mouth with a hum.

Jongho’s grip on your hair tightened in congruence with his loudening moans. He felt as if he might die. He felt he might’ve already died because could heaven be any better than his current situation? He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Feels so good, y/n, so good.” Jongho’s voice broke toward the end of his statement. You took into consideration how he wasn't used to this, planning every ministration carefully to ensure he enjoyed each moment that he lasted.

Introducing a hand to the mix, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock. This gave you a bit of stability in leverage so that you could swirl your tongue all over. Around the tip, tease the slit of his head, gently over the thin band of skin below it. You pulled back from his cock with a pop to catch your breath.

“Doing ok, Jongho?” You sighed and rested your cheek against his thigh for a moment.

His head was thrown back to rest against the wood of the booth, forehead damp with sweat. He granted you a thumbs up which you found incredibly in character.

“Cum whenever you're ready, alright? Just let me know.” You lowered yourself down a bit further in order to take one of his balls into your mouth. With one hand twisting and tugging at his cock, you knew he wouldn't take much longer to bust. It seemed you were right, whimpers filling the space around the two of you.

“Close-” Jongho groaned and desperately reached for your hand that was grasping at his toned thighs. You accept his advance, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing reassuringly. His nails digging into the skin of your hand and his breath fully catching in his throat was the last sign you needed.

Swiftly, your mouth sank back around Jongho just in time for his climax. White hot cum coated the inside of your mouth, plenty of it, that had undoubtedly been waiting since his dream. You wondered briefly how uncomfortable it was for his balls to have been so full. Once Jongho came back down to reality enough, the gravity of what you'd done set in on him.

“You… you swallowed it?!” He gasped, shocked that was even a possibility.

“Mm,” You popped off of his length and shook your head. Opening your mouth wide so he could see his load pooling on your tongue, you made a show of swallowing every last drop. “Now I did.”

After a moment of silence Jongho cocked his head to the side. “Does it, uh, taste good?”

“Only because it's yours.”

Helping Jongho clean up with tissues you kept in your purse, you let him buckle his belt and help you to your feet.

“Don't you want anything in return?”

“Only for you to be mine and only mine.”

“O-Oh, I can do that. But what about your…?”

“Let's wait ‘til mass actually ends. They're gonna wonder where we've been. Come on, Jjongie.”

Anticipation shivered up his spine, taking your hand into his own to lead you to the doorway that opened to the main hall of the church.

Jongho took the initiative to kiss you tenderly. “I'll make up some excuse on the spot.”

“Deal.”

#jongho smut #ateez smut #choi jongho smut #ateez jongho smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #jongho imagines #jongho fic #jongho fanfic #ateez scenarios #[jo fucks ateez 🏴‍☠️]

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cod-dump · 1 year

Note

pls god i will give you both my femurs for some good comfy soapghost plsplspls simon meeting johnnys fam and being simultaneously adopted bc john lets him call him johnny and no one else is ever allowed to call him that, bc soap told them how he’s always got a mask on but here he is meeting them without the mask PLS I WILL BEG

MacTavish

Part 1

SoapGhost

(I attempted to write a Scottish accent in this. I tried 🥲)

___

Ghost underestimated how much Soap talked about him to his family. Even before they started dating Soap was gushing about his very attractive lieutenant. Ghost learned that because Soap’s elder sister was bringing up everything and anything to embarrass her brother in front of his boyfriend.

Ghost wasn’t sure about meeting Soap’s whole family. Meeting his sister was already nerve wracking and she greeted him with a hug. She was a tall woman, taller than Soap. Maybe an inch shorter than Ghost without the heels. That was his guess. She was practically the female version of Soap, except taller. When her eyes met Ghost’s he felt himself start to sweat.

“I wasn’t too sure when my baby brother said he was dating a Brit. But now looking at you? I can see why he jumped on you when he had the chance.”

Soap is mortified as Ghost blinks in shock.

“EVE WHY!?”

The woman laughed, poking her brother’s forehead, “Oh come on! You never brought any of your boyfriends home! I have to make up for all those years of embarrassment you deprived me of!”

Ghost had a brief relationship with his brother. This relationship that Soap had with his sister showed they had years of trust and love between them. Something that Ghost never had. Watching Soap try to grab Eve while she held him back by simply putting her hand on his forehead and pushing away— It made Ghost realize how much he missed out in the sibling department.

Going out to eat with Eve wasn’t as bad as Ghost thought it would be. She stopped being so intimidating when she started sharing things about Soap that Ghost may have or haven't already known about. Still, Soap still tried to argue with her on everything she said.

“—not to mention that you always deflect serious conversations with stupid jokes.”

“I do not!”

Ghost laughs, “Sorry, Johnny. She’s right about that.”

The mood at the table suddenly changed. Eve’s eyes widen before she turned her head and gave Soap the most deadly glare. Soap pales, focusing on his food. Ghost looks between them, wondering if he said something wrong.

“Johnny?”

“Eve-“

“No, you let him call you Johnny? John Hamish MacTavish, since when do you let anyone call you Johnny?!”

Ghost blinks, “He doesn’t let you call him Johnny?”

“No!”

Soap was covering his face, groaning, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal! You always fought anyone you tried to call you that! Pa, Ma, me, Carol—“

“Please… Eve-“

Eve pulls out her phone and Soap gaps before trying to grab it from her, “No!”

“Everyone in the MacTavish family is going to hear about this!”

Soap wasn’t able to stop her. Eve laughed victoriously when the text sent out, turning to Soap who looked like he wanted to die. By the end of the night when they left the restaurant, Soap hung back to talk to Eve. Ghost was sitting anxiously in the car, watching them talk. Soap got in the car and groaned loudly.

“Sorry…”

“About what?”

“Calling you Johnny in front of her.”

Soap takes Ghost’s hand, “She was bound to find out.”

“You seem pretty upset about it.”

Soap laughs, “I’m upset that my sister has already called you her favorite brother. I’m her only brother!”

Ghost can’t help but smile, “She likes me that much?”

“She loves you. God… Christmas is going to be a mess… if you come…”

“Why wouldn’t I come?”

“My family can be overwhelming. It might be too much for you and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Johnny, I’m going. It would be rude to ignore your parents’ invitation.”

Soap smiles and leans over and kisses Ghost later that night as they laid in bed Soap was getting bombarded with texts and phone calls. Ghost didn’t think something as little as a pet name would be the cause of this. Soap had to put his phone on ‘do not disturb’ before hugging Ghost.

“I think ignoring it might make it worse…”

“Maybe. Don’t care.”

Soap kisses Ghost, the man melting against him as they got comfortable in bed.

Christmas came sooner than what Ghost was prepared for. It felt like he just blinked and Christmas was around the corner. He was nervous as he packed, getting ready for their flight to Scotland. Soap was excited, talking about his hometown and how he couldn’t wait to show Ghost where he grew up.

He guess he was too quiet because Soap stopped talking and walked over to him. He was trying to fold a shirt but he was shaking so bad that he kept wadding it up. Soap took the shirt from him, making Ghost turn to look at him.

“Baby, are you sure you want to go? They will understand if you choose to stay behind.”

“I’m fine! Just nervous.”

Soap puts the shirt down and hugs Ghost, “I get it. But I promise they’re going to love you.”

“I hope you’re right…”

“When have I ever been wrong?”

Ghost stares blankly at Soap. Soap bites his lip and picks the shirt back up, folding it.

“Don’t answer that.”

They finished packing, deciding to watch a movie before heading to bed. Ghost tried staying focused but he was so nervous about fucking up and doing something to make Soap’s family not like him. He’s only ever met the family of a ex-partner once before and that didn’t go well. To be far that boyfriend wasn’t out of the closet and Ghost was visiting as just a friend before his boyfriend’s cousin outed him. That was a bad experience and they broke up a couple days after.

Ghost knew that Soap’s family knew about his sexuality, they knew he was dating a man. But what if it was just mild tolerance rather than acceptance?

“You’re thinking pretty loud.”

Ghost blinks and turns to look at Soap. He had paused their movie and was looking at him with concern. He didn’t even have to say anything and Soap knew what was worrying him.

“They’re going to love you, love.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Si, I know my family. They’re going to take one look at you and then you won’t be able to get rid of them.”

Ghost sighs, “That fast?”

“Oh yea. Should’ve seen them when Carol introduced her husband. Poor guy wasn’t able to even go to the bathroom without someone bothering him. The only person that didn’t like him was my dad but that guy can look at a puppy and scoff.”

Ghost winces, “So I have to worry about your dad?”

Soap rubs the back of his neck, "No?"

"Johnny..."

"Fine, guy can be a bit... Protective. When Carol introduced her husband he wasn’t too happy about the guy already proposing to her without asking for his blessing. He’s old school like that.”

Ghost doesn’t say anything and Soap tries to smooth things over.

“He doesn’t like people that quick! It’s nothing personal he’s just like that. Always has been.”

Ghost looks at Soap and he leans over and kisses him, “He will certainly learn to like you way faster than Oliver.”

Ghost smiles to ease Soap even though he wasn’t convinced. They finished their movie and went to bed, but Ghost wasn’t able to fall asleep that night. When their alarm went off he was still awake and groaned. He was dead on his feet as they checked their luggage before heading out the door to leave for the airport. They had gotten a early morning flight because Soap wanted to spend as much time as possible while back home.

On the car ride Soap noticed Ghost lounging in his seat, eyes barely open.

“Oh, baby. Maybe you can take a nap on the plane ride?”

“I doubt I’ll get much sleep on a flight that is barely over an hour.”

“Still better than nothing.”

Ghost sighs, knowing that his anxiety will keep him from even getting an house of sleep. The flight was rather uneventful and Soap gave him his earbuds to listen to music so he could try to sleep. Ghost thinks he slept for thirty minutes before they landed. Seeing how excited Soap was made him keep pushing, not wanting to ruin his boyfriend’s experience of coming back home after being gone for so long.

When they walked out of the airport Eve was there. She got out of her car and ran over, hugging Ghost before hugging Soap.

“What the hell, Eve?”

“What? I hug people in the order in which I like them.”

Soap gasps and Ghost couldn’t help but preen. She helped pack their luggage in her trunk before Ghost got in the backseat. She frowned in a cartoonish manner when he did this.

“I was hoping to not have to share the front with this loser.”

Soap glares at his sister with the fury of a thousand suns. Ghost chuckles as they get in the car bickering about something. Ghost ended up falling asleep again. It wasn’t a deep sleep but it was a better nap than what he got on the plane ride. He woke when they came to stop, seeing that they were in a town. Soap and Eve were talking lowly, probably to prevent from waking him.

“I’m sure you talked to him about Pa…”

“A little bit?”

“John…”

“I was worried about scaring him. He’s already nervous about meeting everyone.”

“I doubt hiding how Pa is will help.”

Ghost made a noise and pretended to be just waking up. Soap turns his head and smiles at him.

“Hey, baby. Welcome to Glencolm! The place where I grew up.”

Ghost sits straighter in his seat to look at the town as they drove through.

“Farkirk Café?”

“Has the best burgers in the world. I have not had a burger as good as the one’s that ol’ Kenzi makes.”

Ghost makes a mental note of the place. They ended up driving a few kilometers out of town. They came to a big homestead, several cars already pulled alongside the driveway. Ghost saw some kids playing around the house. They paid no mind to them until they saw Ghost get out of the car, a couple boys running inside afterwards. Ghost’s anxiety immediately picked up, grabbing his luggage from the trunk along with Soap’s.

“I can get my own bag, Si.”

Soap is suddenly tackles by two girls. He caught himself on the car, laughing when he sees who jumped on him.

“Aye, look who it is! Two of the most beautiful girls in the world!”

He goes to grab them but they squeal and dodge him, running to Eve. They hide behind her, giggling as Soap stalked after them. Eve rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Mina, Ellie.”

The girls stood at attention, looking up at Eve. She makes a shooing motion at them.

“Go get your father.”

“Yes, Mama.”

They take off, giggling the whole way. Ghost’s heart ached at the innocence, they reminded him of Joseph.

“They’ve gotten so big!”

Eve let’s out a deep breath, “Tell me about it! Soon they’ll be dating! And you know I’ll have to kill whoever breaks their hearts!”

Eve and Soap start to move towards the house, Ghost following closely. The closer they got to the house, the harder his heart would beat. A man opens the front door, taking Eve’s hands immediately and pulling her in for a kiss. He then turns to Soap and pulls him in for a hug.

“John!”

“Hey, Jay!”

Ghost notes the man’s faint Welsh accent that mixed with a Scottish one.

The man looks at Ghost and looks him over before offering a hand, “Hello, you must be Simon.”

Ghost puts down a bag and takes the man’s hand. He could tell Jay was trying not to stare at his scarred face or hands. But Ghost recognized the curiosity and slight horror. He tries to ignore it as Jay and Eve welcome them inside. As soon as that door closed Ghost felt trapped. He wish he was wearing a mask but he knows that would’ve brought up questions. Jay reaches for the bags Ghost had.

“I can take those to your room.”

Ghost goes to protest but Soap takes his hand, “Let him. Ma would have a fit if we didn’t immediately go see her.”

Eve laughs, “She would. Hun, where is Ma?”

“In the kitchen.”

Soap starts to drag Ghost through the house. He tried to look around but Soap wasn’t giving him any time to do so. They walk into a big kitchen, two women talking over some tea. One turned and Ghost knew that was Soap’s mother. Eve and Soap looked just like her. The small woman smiles broadly and walks over, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh, my baby boy! Let me look at ya!”

She holds Soap by his shoulders and pushes him away at arm’s length, looking him over before she grabs him by his face.

“Ah missed ya so much!”

“Ma, I was here for Easter!”

She waves her hand dismissively, “Like that matters.”

She looks past Soap and straight at Ghost. He tensed as she studied him, unreadable. Then she smiles warmly and moves past Soap, taking his hands.

“Ye must be Simon.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She laughs, “No need for such formalities. Ye can just call me Muriel.”

She looks over Ghost, pulling away and looking to Soap.

“Ya got yerself a looker!”

Ghost blushes as Soap shakes his head, “Ma…”

She ignores Soap and looks back to Ghost. She hooks an arm with his and leads him to the kitchen island. The other woman finally speaks.

“Ah see that yer just gonna ignore me!”

Soap laughs, “Sorry, Carol!”

Soap walks over and the woman glares at him but it melts away and she reaches out, pulling Soap into a hug.

“Good to see ya, little brother.”

Carol turns to Ghost and looks him over before turning back to Soap.

“Did ya see the biggest guy in the force and decide thats yer man?”

Soap smacks her shoulder as she laughs, “What? Ye always had a thing fur big guys!”

Ghost looked away as the two start to bicker, Carol walking out of the room with Soap chasing after her. Muriel shakes her head before grabbing Ghost’s attention with a gentle tap to his arm.

“Would ya like some tea, dear?”

“Yes I would.”

“Ah’ll get ya some then. How do ya like it?”

“Just a lot of sugar added to it.”

Muriel walks over to the kettle which still had hot water in it. Ghost looks around the kitchen, unsure what to do without Soap there. Ghost looks at the decorations in the kitchen. There was some porcelain farm animals in the window sill. A woman walks into the room, groaning.

“Ma, Jacky just threw up.”

Muriel turns around, “Oh no! Where is he?”

“In the family room.”

Muriel rushes out of the kitchen, leaving Ghost alone with the woman. She was short, had reddish brown hair and blue eyes. Her face was round and she had light freckles. She studies him like she was trying to figure out who he was.

“Ah’m sorry, who are ya?”

“I’m Simon, John’s boyfriend.”

Her eyes widen before she rushes forward and hugs him tightly. Ghost tenses, not expecting her to hug him. She pulls away and is holding him by the shoulders.

“Yer not what Ah was expectin’! Much more… handsome.”

Ghost flushes as the woman steps back and clears her throat before offering her hand.

“Hello, Ah’m Andy. John’s big sister.”

Ghost takes her hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Soap walks into the kitchen, “Sorry about running off Si-“

He freezes when he sees Andy. Unlike everyone else he’s seen, he seemed to put his guard up.

“Andrea… I didn’t know you would be here.”

“That makes two of us,” She looks at Ghost, ��Where did ya find this big guy?”

Ghost felt uncomfortable as she looked at him. He also didn’t like how Soap was acting. Soap glares and steps forward, getting between her and Ghost.

“Military.”

“Huh. Maybe Ah should join. Get me a big guy.”

She starts to leave the kitchen, flashing a smile at Ghost, “Good ta meet ya, Simon.”

She leaves and Soap turns to Ghost after a minute, seemingly making sure she was gone.

“What was that?”

Soap blinks, “What was what?”

“Hey! John! Simon! Pa’s comin’ in from the garage!”

Soap jumps up, “Oh shi— C’mon, babe!”

Soap grabs Ghost and drags him out of the kitchen and through the halls. They come to be big open room with a couch and loveseat. Ghost assumed it was the family room. There are a couple kids running around but they see Ghost and run upstairs. There’s an old woman, maybe Soap’s grandmother, and a woman that looked around the same age as Muriel. On the loveseat was a man with black hair and eyes. He looked at Ghost and immediately looked away when Ghost turned his attention onto him.

He looks to the big sliding doors as they open, and his heart picked up speed when a mountain of a man came through. He had a light tan, red hair and blue eyes. Ghost realized this man was taller than him. Soap walked up the man with a grin. Before he can say anything the man grabs Soap and pulls him into what looked like a bone crushing hug.

“My boy! How are ya?!”

Soap wiggles free from the man, “Fine, Pa! Hey, I want you to meet Simon!”

The man’s gaze turns to Ghost and it was ice cold. Ghost could feel the judgment as the man walks over, definitely sizing him up. Ghost has faced hordes of enemies head on, has almost diex multiple times. But for some reason, this man was the most terrifying thing he has ever faced.

“Yer the fella my boy’s been gushin’ ‘bout?”

“Yes, sir.”

While Ghost addressed Muriel as ‘ma’am’ out of respect, calling Soap’s father ‘sir’ felt like a necessity for survival. He holds out a hand to Ghost who grabs it.

“Hmm… firm hand ya got there.”

Ghost could tell the man wasn’t looking for a reply. Soap groans and grabs his father’s arm.

“Pa—“

The old woman speaks up, “Isaiah. Stop foolin’ ‘round. He’s a fine young man.”

Soap turns to the woman, “Thank you, Gran!”

Isaiah rolls his eyes before backing off. Muriel comes into the family room with a little boy in her arms. Isaiah’s attitude instantly changes. He smiles and walks over to her, placing a loving kiss on her head. Soap walks over to his grandmother and sits next to her before motioning Ghost to come sit. The other woman around Muriel and Isaiah’s age smiles at him.

“Don’t let that eejit scare ya.”

Ghost looks to her and she pats his shoulder, “I’m Miranda, John’s aunt and Muriel’s sister.”

“Simon.”

“Well, welcome to the MacTavish home.”

Ghost smiles but he looks ahead of him, feeling Isaiah’s heavy gaze on him. Hell, he felt like he was in a war zone.

___

#call of duty #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #ask #thanks for the ask <3 #fic #fanfic #mactavish

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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

Text

Whims of the Fae

Fae walk among the people of Cybertron. They are so few in number that often their actions become mere tales, lost to rumor. But their presence is undeniable to those who know the signs, and in recent cycles, they have begun to gather. Optronix didn't care about the strange stories and the concerns of potential war. He was just a dock worker. What did it matter to him?

That was what he thought until one Head Archivist found himself "lost" in Optronix's place of work. It was only polite to help the poor mech out...

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“You need to be careful! Don’t want the fair folk stealing you away!” Dion smacked him on the back fondly and chugged his ration like it was the last he would ever consume. Optronix grimaced and held his ration calmly. Dion always lived every cycle like it was his last, which considering their station, it very well could have been. Low caste mecha generally didn’t make it past thirty vorns before they gave out or were offlined in some accident.

“The fair folk are just stories. You know that, Dion.” Optronix muttered as he watched the area around him warily. There was something… off. He couldn’t place it exactly, but the very air seemed unsettled, distorted in a sense. Maybe it was the fumes from the ships coming in and out of the docks getting to him.

“Sure! But you are still too nice for your own good! At this rate, some mech is going to scam you for all you are worth and leave you dead in a ditch.” Dion gave him a slightly more serious look, but he promptly stood and stretched, an alarm on his arm blaring.

“Take care of yourself, buddy. I’ve got another shift.” Dion’s back gave a worrying crack and Optronix frowned as his elder friend winced. Dion was only twenty vorns old, but he was already showing wear and tear worthy of mecha deep into their fifth millennia of life. It concerned him, but there was little he could do aside from help in minor ways. Getting a medic cost an arm and a leg down on the docks. The most they could afford were the back alley scrappers who knew about anatomy from picking mecha apart for the organ trade in the red light district.

Optronix shuddered as he considered that possibility. No mech in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near a scrapper unless they were literally bleeding to death. He frowned as he looked down at his leg where bolt scars remained from the singular time he’d been forced to go to a scrapper. He was lucky it was just his leg. Dion going for his back would end with him losing his spinal struts in an ‘accident’.

He sighed as he broke from his thoughts and Optronix stood and gently pressed on the small of Dion’s back, snapping a component back into place and earning a relieved sigh in return. His friend stretched again, this time with far more flexibility as his spinal struts realigned.

“Be careful Dion. I don’t want you offlining due to overexertion.” Optronix smiled, but it was strained. If Dion noticed, he didn’t say anything. Their kind were condemned to die, they knew it from the moment they were assigned their function and caste. Still, it hurt to acknowledge once it started to have an effect on reality.

“I will. Make sure to actually drink your ration this time. Don’t give it out to some stranger again.” Dion waved as he walked off and Optronix held his energon cube with a sigh. He was done for the cycle, unlike his companion. Arriving extra early meant he got to go to his dingy hab at a reasonable time. Not that there was much to do at his hab aside from wallow of course, but it was nice to have the free time to just… exist.

He tried to focus on that pleasant aspect of his routine as he began heading toward the exit of the docks. And yet despite his concern for Dion and the overall relief that came from being done with his regular hard labor, Optronix found himself on edge. The feeling of wrong was getting stronger, and no matter where he looked, everything seemed to be off. He tried to move faster, hoping to go to his hab and have the feeling fade. But before he could, an elegant and most certainly higher caste voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, I appear to have gotten quite turned around. Would you perhaps be willing to guide me to the train to upper Iacon?” Optronix whipped around far faster than he would have liked. His optics were wide and his finials perked in instinctual terror as he laid his gaze upon a smaller mech, not particularly shapely, but sturdy and his armor hugging him in appealing ways. His red and blue plating shone with all the luster of the newly forged and his face was without blemish, two perfectly innocent and yet eerily knowledgeable optics shining up at him.

Every part of his coding demanded he run, and yet Optronix found himself enraptured. It wasn’t natural, but this mech was… strange. His EM field was soothing and compelling in a sense. Optronix didn’t want to leave even as the mech stepped forward.

“Sure! I can get you there in no time Sir!” Optronix hastily replied, turning away from those optics that seemed to stare into his very spark. Quickly reviewing his memory, Optronix gestured for the mech to follow and began to walk. He looked over at the smaller bot periodically, but otherwise they continued in silence. He still held his energon cube, but as soon as they left the docks, he found his tanks churning in nausea.

He didn’t want to waste it, but he wouldn’t be refueling anytime soon now. Everything felt too strange for him to even hope to keep any energon down. Looking over at his companion, Optronix found himself torn. The mech had come with him without question, and that was worrying. If Optronix were anyone else, the high caste mech would likely be taken into some dark alley and shredded for parts or otherwise mutilated. The fact that his companion opted to follow him so easily was off putting, and not in the way Optronix expected.

It stank of some sort of trap. There wasn’t a mech dumb enough to follow a random stranger so close to the red light district without either some form of potent protection or a scheme guaranteed to assure safety.

“It isn’t much, but would you like some energon? I am sure it isn’t exactly what a mech of your station is used to, but it's something to keep you going. The trip to upper Iacon is a long one from what I hear.” He held out his ration to the smaller mech, hoping that it would perhaps calm his spark’s nervous spin. Usually being charitable eased him a degree, giving him a sense of purpose. However as the smaller mech watched him, observing him with a simple smile and accepting the cube, Optronix still felt nothing but protoform rattling uncertainty.

He wanted to leave. He had to leave. And yet his frame would not let him. The mech just kept staring at him, and something told him that trying to run wouldn’t end well for him. The further they went, the more it felt as though Optronix were wading into a minefield. Every step was a gamble, and Optronix could feel his tanks churn with greater unease the closer they came to the train station.

“Thank you. I appreciate your hospitality.” The smaller mech smiled with denta just a bit too sharp to be normal as he accepted the cube and took a polite sip. Optronix walked faster.

This was wrong. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but he needed to finish helping the mech and leave immediately. Whatever was going on behind the scenes was not meant for him.

“Uh, what’s your name by the way?” His vocalizer felt heavy, the glyphs slurring as he tried to speak. He could see the train station in the distance, and never more did he wish he could run. Still, he needed to be polite. He was probably just on edge. The mech he was walking with was likely lost and uncertain. He needed to put his paranoia away, keep it together, and save up to see a medic. Ariel told him about stories where mecha went mad from the fumes.

“You may call me Head Archivist Pax. I ended up down here while searching for my Conjunx.” Optronix almost tripped over his own pedes. Maybe that’s why he was so unsettled. Such a high caste mech down in the lower levels… Optronix was asking to be wrapped up into something or killed in some political garbage.

He bit his lower derma and tried to focus his attention on the growing shades that came from the light of the nearest star receding. Perhaps his fear was from the darkness, he’d never been fond of the dark after Gears vanished into the lower levels never to be seen again. That had to be his reason for being so shaky, it couldn’t have been the Head Archivist. For Primus’s sake, Pax had done exactly nothing and Optronix’s behavior was likely going to scare him.

Optronix tried to vent as he approached the station with his companion. There was no going back now.

“It is an honor to meet someone as high up on the chain as you Head Archivist. I hope you find your way home safely!” Optronix stepped into the train station, bowing slightly as he’d seen mecha do on TV as he waited for the Head Archivist to leave. Pax regarded him simply and smiled, his now empty energon cube calmly placed in the recycling.

“You have been very courteous. Might I have your information? I wish to reward you for your kindness.” Pax smiled, and Optronix felt the very air draw in tight around him like a cage as he straightened. Panic rose in his very base coding and before he could stop himself, he reached to extend a commlink invitation to offer his identification and stop the sheer terror sinking into his protoform..

“Of course! I would be honored-” Optronix lurched forward, his servos instinctually coming to grasp his helm as his processors pounded. His body ached in a way he couldn’t describe and his spark panged in loss. The air was heavy and laced with static, so much so that when Optronix had the will to try and stand upright again, he could only take one step back before he fell to his knees shaking.

“This is the one you have chosen? He seems fidgety.” Opronix found coolant gathering in his optics as primal fear settled into his fuel lines. A towering mech, one he distantly recognized as the Champion of Kaon, stood at Pax’s side. He seemed normal, but his presence was oppressive and Optronix was a klik away from purging what little fuel he had in tanks. Where Pax evidently made everything seem wrong on a fundamental level, this mech, Megatronus of Kaon… he made Optronix feel small, unwelcome, and like a thief on land he did not own.

“He is more than sufficient, my love. He has given me what I needed, and I know for a fact that he will perform perfectly in his role. His mind is strong, he is simply a little overwhelmed right now.” Pax dropped to a knee and promptly ran his digits along the edges of Optronix’s face. He wanted to recoil, but those optics stared so intently into him that he could feel them everywhere. Pax saw everything, all that he was and ever would be. There was no escape.

“Bind him to you, beloved. He must be prepared for the gifts we are to give.” Optronix tried to move, but as Pax stood and he remained on his knees, he found he couldn’t. Megatronus towered over him, eclipsing any chance of escape as he uttered a simple phrase.

“May I have your oath of allegiance?” The gladiator’s presence destroyed everything else. The world was collapsing in on itself. Light warped and was eradicated by the unstoppable titan before him. The scenery shifted into an all encompassing void only filled with the presence of whatever in the pits Megatronus was. Impending doom settled in his spark, and all Optronix could do was shake.

There was no escape. He was lost in this void. His voice was nothing amidst the emptiness.

“You are exerting too much influence, my Champion. Look at him, he can’t even vent.” The sound of the train pulling into the station and Pax’s voice broke through the void. Color and form returned to reality, and Optronix collapsed entirely as he gasped, his fans spinning wildly as he found himself desperately trying to cool his heated frame. He shook like a sheet of tin in a storm as he stared up in horror as the beings before him.

They weren’t Cybertronian, they couldn't be. There was no way normal mecha could do whatever they had just done.

“Optronix, it would be in your best interest to give your oath. You may not survive what is to come otherwise.” Pax smiled at him with all the faux innocence of a scrapper gazing down at his prey. Optronix wanted to cry. Dion was right. He’d been too kind and now he’d gotten wrapped up into whatever this was.

His vocalizer felt like lead in his throat as Optronix weighed his options and enjoyed the brief reprieve from the oppressive force that was the Champion of the Pits. He still shook as he pulled himself to one knee, instinct guiding his actions as he spoke. It was as if another spoke on his behalf and gave him words he otherwise had no clue how to say.

“I give my loyalty to the Lord of the Court of Fae. My allegiance to the Court shall endure until death or I am released from my bonds. Forever shall I come when summoned.” His spark screamed as fire raged throughout his frame. Optronix could only manage a strangled cry as he collapsed again, a brand seemingly being burned into his very spark.

“Very good. You’ve done well. Now, we must not miss our train. The night is young and there is much to be done.” Pax grinned, his smile growing far wider than it should have been capable of. Megatronus for his part huffed and dragged Optronix by the arm, planting him on his pedes as though he weighed nothing.

“I call upon you who is bound to me. Answer my summons and follow me.” Megatronus’s words drowned out all else, and before Optronix could so much as scream, one direct goal quieted his will. He quickly found himself walking behind the duo at a brisk yet seemingly comfortable pace. His plating flared, his optics were wide, and his field pulsed erratically off and on. Yet no matter how much he willed himself to move, to run in any other direction… his frame failed to obey him.

They entered the train and Optronix was quickly ordered to sit next to Megatronus on one of the many dilapidated seats. The trains in the lower levels were held together by tape and a prayer more often than not. However it seemed that fact did not bother the two beings beside him as the train rolled out of the station. They sat comfortably, and it seemed as though the train itself molded to their preferences. It shouldn’t have been possible, but colors ran along the walls where they shouldn’t have been. Metal warped and shone before returning to its usual state. The windows showed the outside one moment, and a horrifying void the next.

He looked firmly at his pedes, desperate to keep himself calm as he ran through the situation in his mind.

These were fair folk. There was no other explanation. The fair folk were the only ones capable of stealing intangible things and altering reality like it was dough. There were all sorts of stories around the docks about them. Always third party retellings and things heard in passing. Still, as the train chugged along and the ground shifted colors, Optronix searched his memory for anything of use.

“He’s done nothing but stare at the ground. Are you sure he was a good pick? He can’t be strong enough for what we need him to accomplish.” Megatronus spoke with disdain evident in his voice. Optronix stole a brief glance up at the fairy in momentary anger, but he quickly found himself regretting that choice.

The mech, or rather the fairy, was no longer as he looked prior to entering the train. He hadn’t changed much physically, but he seemed larger, darker, his plating sharper and his optics so much more intense. It made Optronix’s tanks churn even harder than they already were. It was enough for shooting pain to assault his insides and remind him of a possible escape.

Dion said once that fairies couldn’t enter homes. As dock workers, they didn’t really have that. More often than not, home was wherever a mech happened to be at the time. If Optronix could possibly find a way to separate himself and his space from the fair folk, he could possibly claim it as his. Sure, it was a limited and very short term solution, but it was better than whatever the fair folk had planned. He’d heard more than enough stories about mecha being devoured and returning to docks altered, strange, and misshapen.

“He is perfect for the role I will delegate to him. He carries the correct bloodline and his CNA mimics my own. He merely requires cultivation.” Orion’s silky voice filled the train in a way that shouldn't have been possible, almost as though it were coming from everywhere at once. He didn’t want to look, he couldn’t afford to look as he raised a servo to his intake and bit down, silencing a groan of pain as the fair folk conversed.

“Are you trying to become Ratchet now? Only his kind cultivate the prototypes.” Energon welled from the damaged plating of his left servo. Optronix kept his optics firmly on the comforting glow. It was the only thing on the train that wasn’t changing aside from himself. It was grounding, it was… a warding agent.

“Nonsense my dear Champion. The lower beings do not require or deserve my direct attention. This one is a unique case.” As quietly as he could, Optronix began to drag his digit along the outline of his frame. The energon from the wound was thick and created a firm line cutting him off from the terrifying creature sitting mere feet away. Just a few more lines, just a few more…

“You say that, but with how many schemes you’ve been developing, it would not surprise me if you brought more of the prototypes into our domain within the vorn.” His frame ached and his servo screamed as he raised it to his intake and bit again, forcing more energon to flow from the deeper wound. He reached toward the ground, acting as though he were attempting to curl up in fear as he dragged his damaged digit along the grimy ground. His vocalizer burned as grime entered the wound, but he paid it no mind.

The fair folk would not have him.

“T-This is my domain, created in my energon and filled by my presence. I order the fair folk away. They shall not enter.” He found strength as he sat up, his optics cycling in uncertainty as he uttered the familiar phrase. The train fell silent, and for a brief moment, Optronix wanted to have hope. Maybe they would leave. Maybe he could find someone to break their bindings and he could go back to living a normal life-

“How very adorable. He thinks we are of the lesser Courts.” Icy terror filled his fuel lines and Optronix gripped his knees so tightly that he drew more energon from his injured servo. No, it had to have worked, it had to have worked. This couldn’t be possible.

“Foolish little prototype. You already belong to us.” Those same servos came to run along the edges of his face, forcing him to look up. Optronix wished he could die right then and there as a mass of limbs and optics met him. That smile breached the confines of the face that held it and still Pax’s voice rang out clear and composed. Not a sound was uttered as the fairy pulled away, its form shifting back into what Optronix knew before it sat back down.

“At least he made an attempt.” Megatronus huffed, only serving to turn fear into rage. He was no sparkling, he was a grown mech and a citizen of Cybertron. If he was to die, he would do so on his own terms and with honor.

“My love.” Pax’s voice came out in a low trill as Optronix made a rash decision. The trains were torn half to pieces, metal jutted out from just about everywhere, and there was a more than acceptable metal pipe clinging to the wall of the train by a single screw. He broke it free without hesitation and swung with all the strength in his frame-

-Only for the pipe to phase straight through Megatronus without so much as scratching him.

“He has some spine after all! Look at that! A prototype trying to fight against and Archfae! Starscream will find this amusing.” Megatronus laughed, a deep and dark chuckle that had Optronix crying before he knew it. Coolant gathered in his optics and despair set in like the plague as he came to a sickening realization.

There was no escape. These things had control over reality, and he had fallen into their web the moment he agreed to walk Pax to the train station.

“I told you he was the correct choice. When will you stop doubting me when it comes to these things?” Pax laughed as well, a light comfortable sound that would have soothed any other mech as the train at last came to a stop. Optronix didn’t even try to fight as he was ordered to follow behind the fair folk that had bought his spark without him knowing.

Night covered the world in a deep gloom, but it did little to lessen the terror that reawakened as the Hall of Records came into view. It was a place of great knowledge, but the elder dock workers always said that knowledge came at a price. The news always had at least one missing person to report in the archives every other vorn at minimum.

It made sense now. If the fair folk were taking him there, it meant that quite likely, other unfortunate sparks like himself had met their ends there too.

Dion was right. Why couldn’t he have just been an aft and told Pax to shove off?

“Sire, I request that my guest be granted access to your domain.” Pax stepped inside the building and the lights flickered. A deep rumbling groan came from the very walls and Optronix wished for nothing more than to flee as Megatronus ordered him to enter behind him. He complied even as wires slipped through cracks in the very ground, caressing Pax’s legs and raising threateningly for Megatronus and Optronix.

“Alpha Trion, as your ordained heir and as an Archfae, you will grant my guest and my Conjunx access to your domain. Megatronus is an extension of myself, and soon my guest shall be too. Cease this waste of time.” Pax shifted again and Optronix looked away while doing his best to refrain from crying as the wires pulled away, retreating back into their hiding places.

So the fair folk had family drama too. Dark amusement, likely edging on insanity, threatened to emerge in the form of a laugh as Optronix followed his fair folk masters deeper into the nightmarish structure. After the train, the archives weren’t quite so bad. The walls shifted, bookshelves moved around, and the lights forever flickered and increased and decreased in brightness. At least there wasn’t a void to devour all hope right outside the window.

“Drink this.” He was jolted from his thoughts as he was forced to a stop in an open location. The bookshelves had been left behind several kliks ago, and now all that remained was an oval room with a table and a pool of what looked to be energon in the center. He was going to be eaten wasn’t he? Why else would there be what looked like an examination table right next to a pool of energon. His imagination provided him with a plethora of grotesque images of him being drained or possibly picked to pieces as a cube of an undeniable origin was pressed into his servos.

It looked like energon, but he didn’t have time to question as the fair folk stared him down until he got every last drop of it into his tanks. It seemed like energon too based on the taste, but it left him feeling tingly and his systems bursting with energy it really shouldn’t have had. Maybe high caste energon just did stuff like that.

“Get into the pool.” The order came quickly, and Optronix complied. Not that he had much choice in the matter.

“Stay put.” The second order was more of an afterthought it seemed. As Optronix lowered himself into the pool of energon, he felt strangely at ease. His cables relaxed, his mind started to slow, and pains he didn’t even know he had all melted away in less than a klik. Before he knew it, he had dropped flat onto his back, all thoughts of escape vanquished. If he died this comfortably, he couldn’t exactly complain. It was better than a slow torturous death, that much was certain.

“Don’t be stingy. Give me your arm! I need as much energon as I can get!” Pax’s voice distantly filtered through the hum that settled into Optronix’s processors. He didn’t seem upset but rather annoyed. Optronix for his part didn’t bother to linger on the thought as he gazed up at the ceiling, watching wires descend and scoop up a mech from a balcony a ways off. The mech screamed as they were dragged into the walls which closed with a sickening crunch.

It explained a lot of missing person reports.

“No, keep it steady. If the composition is off, the procedure could fail in spectacular fashion.” There was Pax saying something again. Optronix wanted to sigh. Could he not be quiet? It was so peaceful…

“He’s drugged out of his mind.” Megatronus laughed and stepped closer, his Conjunx right at his side. Optronix hummed but did not move as Pax entered the pool and stared down at him with a wide smile that would have otherwise had Optronix fearing for his life.

“Good. He won’t feel the CNA override.” That sounded vaguely concerning.

“Optronix, don’t you worry sweet thing. When you wake up again, you will be born anew. Your name has already been selected.” There was a hint of feral glee in the Head Archivist’s tone. Optronix didn’t even have the strength to hum as recharge hung heavy on his mind. He wanted to rest.

“Drink up. That’s right, just like that.” A vial of something was pressed to his intake, and with some coaxing, the foul tasting concoction made its way to his tanks. He gagged as his frame began to go numb, but he wasn’t concerned.

“When will he be ready to be trained?” Megatronus questioned calmly as he gazed down at where Optronix suddenly found himself paralyzed in the pool. He couldn’t feel anything, and yet he wasn’t afraid. By Primus, some of his fellows would give an arm and a leg for whatever drug he was high on.

“Not for quite some time. He needs to grow first.” Grow? He was fully grown.

“What? Shouldn’t he be ready within a few deca-cycles? His frame is fully developed, surely it can’t take that long to heal-” Megatronus trailed off as Optronix lifted his servo, watching in grim fascination as plating turned to goo and fell off his very protoform. He hardly had the strength to do even that as he fought against the calm that overcame him. And just as quickly as he raised his servo, it fell back down with a wet plop.

He didn’t need to look to sense that the rest of his body was falling apart. His optics were starting to flicker…

“It has begun. Soon we will have our little sprite.” The last thing Optronix saw was Pax’s smile which, for once, was gentle and kind.

Then the darkness claimed him, and he knew no more.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #megatron #orion pax #alternate universe #pre war cybertron #megaop #orion and op are separate people yall #i like them being different #whims of the fae au #new au to add to my ever increasing pile #yaaaaaaay #fanfiction

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ageofzero · 3 months

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Yuna is the antagonist of a potential Final Fantasy X-3, thank you for coming to my TED Talk

edit: okay I'll put it under a read more since it'll be a long post (but not as long as my entire conversation was), but what's promised is due.

Now that I have to make the post for real I had to do some wiki reading on what the actual Things going on in the novella were, and… well, a lot of my theorycrafting was based on incomplete and kinda inaccurate information. BUT I can’t read Japanese, the book was never released here, and I am going to go with rule of cool for a little bit of this even as I keep the stuff that sounds kinda dumb on the surface. I’ll be the first to say that Tidus exploding from a bomb he thinks is a blitzball is dumb (true), and Chuami thinking she’s Auron’s daughter is a dumb plot beat (petty), but I’m weaving this bridge and I’m not going to rewrite those. I am going to change some contexts and make them exist in a narrative that I hope is compelling. That’s my disclaimer, now I’m gonna get into it.

SO.

The scenario from the novella and audio drama is thus: Tidus died again in an accident, and Yuna brings him back. But he’s not back in the same way that the Fayth gave this dream a real living body at the end of X-2. The official term for it is “beckoned”, but I probably won’t use that to describe him based on my previous understanding. No matter if he’s beckoned or not, or whatever terminology you want to use, the thing is that Yuna summoned him back. She’s holding him to life, and he can never know. It’s been a year since the moment Tidus died, and Yuna has seemingly regressed into patterns that put her into what was once Yevon’s circle. Tidus is looking injured/weakened (“Chuami: It wasn’t just [Tidus’s] words that felt hollow. When I shook his hand, his grip felt weak and lifeless... I think he’s injured. Or maybe he’s sick or something.”), and people are looking to Yuna for help or information regarding the strange not-quite Unsent (the beckoned) that are appearing in places in Spira. Help she is not capable of giving. Wakka and Lulu are protecting her as she prays in Besaid Temple. The world is seemingly acting out, with a second shoopuf appearing in the Moonflow and its energies overflowing and drawing more illusions into reality. (“Yuna: The Moonflow energy is responding to the will of the living. It’s as if… we’re in the Farplane.”) And it’s more vivid than what the Farplane is capable of, even breaking the rules of “beckoning”. This is something new, something worse. Something worse enough to bring back Sin (which I thought was just me extrapolating a potential, but they actually mention it in the audio drama that it happens). Yuna promises the people that she will defeat Sin, but Wakka tries to keep her from being made to promise such a thing at first, which is an interesting choice (“Wakka: Yuna, let’s go back to Besaid. They’ll push this all on you… Sin is for summoners, in their minds.”).

Where does the world go in this present circumstances? Why IS Yuna seemingly content to do what chafed her in the Eternal Calm short movie and stay praying in Besaid and helping the elders who are lost now that Yevon as they knew it is in shambles? Why are Lulu and Wakka enabling and protecting her in that? Why is Tidus looking injured and weak and why is Yuna keeping him at arm’s length? Why does she tell him that she’s fallen in love with someone else?

I know the typical story beat interpretation is “Yuna told him that and pushed him away so he wouldn’t be in danger for what she needs to do, bc defeating Sin caused his death last time”. But hear me out. Yuna knows Tidus isn’t alive. She knows that revealing that information to him will cause him to disappear again. She’s actively summoning him back to life and he has no idea (but he must suspect something is wrong, even before Yuna formally pulls away from him, he’s weakening and he probably doesn’t feel right in his own skin). I posit that her maintaining Tidus’s life is what she’s really doing praying in the Besaid Temple. She doesn’t want to get involved with the Moonflow situation, the shoopuf or the overflowing energy of the Moonflow itself. She doesn’t even really act when seeing all the ghosts in the crowd, and actively stops Kurgum from acting (plausible deniability: she and everyone else decide that sending them in that moment would be the wrong call and riots would break out, but that density of ghosts means that’s a significant amount of pyreflies that could become fiends at any moment).

I posit that Yuna’s powers are working, that people close to her think her powers aren’t working (Lulu and Wakka), and she’s hiding it from everyone else. That her powers aren’t working because she’s currently using them to maintain Tidus’s existence. And this maintaining is breaking the Farplane in half, because she’s powerful but has no idea what she’s doing. (Why would she really know what she’s doing or the consequences? Who has any information of what she’s doing and what will happen if she does it?) I posit that Yuna’s love for Tidus is so strong that it corrupts her sense of right and wrong. X-2 is Yuna largely going on a personal quest, and incidentally helping people but separating herself from the title of High Summoner and doing something she wants to do. Rikku encourages her to do something for herself for a change right before she agrees and runs off to become a sphere hunter. She still saves the world, this time from an ancient danger Old Yevon buried and an Unsent is threatening to use (for love, notably), but she did it in the course of looking for Tidus. Who the Fayth return to life, who she hugs and is so so relieved to have in her arms again.

She’s not going to let him go, she couldn’t let him die again so much that she called him back to life.

(side note: I never truly knew how this happened so I had to consult the wiki page on the novella, and I suspect what original information I was working with was misrepresented and misinterpreted. I openly admit that the wiki page doesn’t really help me fully understand what happened, aside from explaining how Tidus ended up in proximity to a bomb. My understanding from someone’s explanation was that an Unsent summoner on the island Yuna and Tidus got washed up on after a storm told her she could call back the dead if she wanted, as a summoner. They’re all made of pyreflies, Aeons and Fiends and People and Unsent alike, and summoners are in the business of manipulating pyreflies. Either calling them from the Fayth to form an Aeon, or Sending them to the Farplane so they do not become Fiends. A summoner with enough power could summon someone back from the dead, could they not? And this Unsent summoner knew how it worked, and told Yuna how to do it. But I don’t know how real that scene could be, or how accurate it is to what’s written in the book. It’s my rule of cool moment, though, and I worked with that as my understanding when I made this theory. We have to make our peace with that, if you’ll allow me this extrapolation of Spira’s rules and a summoner’s powers.)

(The meme is Tidus kicking a blitzball and it turned out it was a bomb and his head gets blown off, but wiki says they ended up on a vision of a Besaid from 1000 years ago, and the bomb was something neither Tidus or Yuna had seen before and to them it looked like a blitzball. So, Tidus approached what he thought was a blitzball, wondering who’s ball it was, and it exploded as he reached it. I still think that’s really dumb but I’m not editing it out bc Tidus’s death creates very interesting consequences.)

So, if Yuna is summoning Tidus back to life, and she desperately doesn’t want him to find this out so she avoids him and pushes him away through any means necessary, but he’s still weakening and fading enough to be noticeable by people… perhaps also himself… Yuna returning to Yevon in some capacity could just as likely be her looking for a means to keep feeding power to this summoning she’s doing so she doesn’t lose him. And what kind of consequences does it have to do this? He’s being summoned, but he’s not actually an Aeon. He’s not an Unsent, he’s not just being beckoned. He wasn’t even real, he was a dream in a summon held together by the raw power of Yu Yevon turning into Sin. The Moonflow overflowing and seeing a long-dead shoopuf is the least of the consequences. The Farplane is delicate, it requires careful maintenance, and here Yuna is shoving her foot in the door and holding it open for a solid year! And no one knows she’s doing this! Spira’s past is full of history, some of that long-buried secrets that no one was supposed to find again. Sin wasn’t supposed to be able to come back, but the ghosts aren’t staying ghosts anymore (“Lulu: I mean Sin came back, right? What’s to stop anything else from coming back?”).

Even people who only know her by reputation seem to think she’s acting strangely (“Kurgum: I thought Lady Yuna was… a righteous person.”), because something is wrong and no one can put their finger on what. Who would have the pieces to put any of this together, and who would even suspect Yuna in the first place? She’s actively not getting involved in politics, she’s locked herself in Besaid, she seems reluctant to answer someone she worked with and should be amicable with now (Baralai).

I think the story should follow down this path, I think it should find Yuna at the end of it, once savior and now destroyer. She’s willing to let the world rip apart in order to keep Tidus, and I think that’s a compelling premise for X-3. The past surging forward like ghosts, vengeful and lost and wanted and terrifying. Who sides with Yuna (Wakka, Lulu) and covers up the problem? Who bands together to face down the High Summoner (Tidus, Rikku)? Who doesn’t know where to place their allegiance, or who changes sides when they realize the extent of what Yuna’s hiding? What does she do when she’s faced with her friends, and the person she loves so much, telling her to stop?

There’s a line in Eternal Calm where Yaibal (named in X-2 but not in the movie itself), after asking about whether or not she’d be joining one of the factions, if she’d be making a faction of her own. And I think in this potential X-3, she’s making her own faction through the actions of becoming antagonist. She’s made Wakka cover for her, she acts in a way that make Lulu and Wakka both protect her regardless of whether or not they know what she’s doing. I think it would be so fascinating to make this a conscious decision on her part. Things have broken so utterly, and she’s desperate to hold them together, and becomes the antagonist in the process.

Squeenix would never do it, they’d never be so bold as to make Yuna the antagonist and follow through on this trajectory of her lying to people to hide that she’s the one breaking the world in half (up to returning the ghost of Sin itself to terrorize Spira). Sin isn’t the final boss in this one, it’d have to be Yuna, we have to stop her and fix what went wrong. It’s not ever gonna happen, but I still think Yuna should be the antagonist of X-3.

#Final Fantasy X #Final Fantasy X-2 #Final Fantasy X-3 #FFX #FF10 #meta #theorycrafting #personal #Let me weave you a really compelling bridge out of the malarky I know of post X-2 content #I promise you that Yuna is the antagonist in this scenario and Squeenix are cowards who’d never do it #Tega writes #it's under the read more #I did not go whole hog into the entire plotting out I did I've just introduced the premise #I had a deep conversation with my RBB writer involving my interpretations #He introduced other ideas that were rad #I don't have an exit strategy though #as in I have no idea how the game would resolve in this projected scenario #or how I would WANT it to resolve #I came up with a ''good'' ending that's tailor made to feel bad about your choices lmao #but that's not what I think the true ending would be #anyway none of that is specifically about how Yuna should be the antagonist #it's more like the delicious possibilities while the plot leads you to that conclusion #there was a lot and I already wrote nearly 2k words just to explain this much #I have to sort out the rest still it's stream of consciousness discord messages

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freestyle-crocodile-trashpile · 10 months

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Hi! I apologize if I'm doing this wrong it's my first time requesting 🥲 feel free to ignore.

May I request a Mitsuri x Male Reader but past Mitsuri so like she's sad after being rejected again but one day we see her lifting up something super heavy and we basically compliment her !

I'm sorry if this makes no sense feel free to ignore.

[A/n:She deserved better 😤. Thank you for requesting]

Summary: After Mitsuri was rejected, she lifted something very heavy and got a boys attention from it

Type:Scenario:Mitsuri X Male Reader

Version:Demon Slayer

It had been a few days after she got rejected. She had tried to get the black out of her hair but to no avail. Later, she was walking through town. She saw an older woman struggling to pick up a heavy vase. She walks over to the woman.

"Exsuse me, miss, would you like some help?"

The older woman looked up at Mitsuri.

"Oh please my dear, that'd be very kind of you"

The woman gives Mitsuri a soft smile as she stands up properly. Mitsuri leans down and easily picks up the vase. As she carries it into the shop, she doesn't notice the attention she attracts. He watched her with adoration as she walked into the shop. His friend didn't seem to notice. You watch her amazed as she talks to the elder woman. When she turns around, you two make eye contact. You blush and quickly look away as she gently tilts her head at the boy. She smiles slightly as she continues her walk through the village. Her mind still thought of the boy. She continues to think about you. The way you looked at her was something she wasn't used to. But unknowing to her, you'd watch her go by after that day. You were so amazed by her you couldn't stop thinking of her. So one day she's walking through the village you stop her.

"H-Hey miss"

She turns and looks at you. Mitsuri takes a second before she recognizes you.

"I, um, I just wanted to say that the other day when you lifted that vase, it was impressive"

She stares at you for a moment before her eyes lit up. Mitsuri stared at you with a happy smile and bright eyes.

"I'm y/n l/n."

You stick your hand out. She happily takes it.

"Mitsuri Kanroji!"

Her hands are soft and warm, with a still firm grip. You blush a bit and smile back. With a small laugh, you guys start to talk more and more. Slowly, you guys become closer, and she feels better with you. Her parents also love you around. Eventually, she couldn't help but fall in love with you. Especially when you try to show off your muscles to her. She slowly fell harder and harder as you two got closer. Eventually, she asked the question. Did you reject her? Absolutely not.

[A/n:I didn't know how to end it, sorry 😅. I hope you enjoyed]

#demon slayer mitsuri #demon slayer kanroji #mitsuri kanroji #demon slayer x male reader #kny x male reader #kny mitsuri #kny kanroji

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thesamoanqueen · 4 months

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Blackwater XV

Raiting: 16+

Warnings: angst, tension, drama, blood.

A/N: Seemed impossible even to me, but I managed to update this series before the end of the year. Hoping that future will be happier and less dramatic for everyone, enjoy it and happy new year yall!

Lisa stayed with her for a couple of hours, until Y/N said she was exhausted and needed to rest. She didn't want to lie, as a mother she had every right to know something was wrong, but Y/N didn't really know what was wrong. That sense of panic, pain, misery was something she had never felt, she didn't know how to deal with it. She wanted to believe that her wolf was overreacting, that the bond between mates had taken over, driving her crazy, but she had felt that blow. She had felt it physically and from that moment it was as if Roman had no longer been there. Emptiness, real, tangible and silence. Something was wrong and he was not okay.

Y/N felt it, in her throat tightened in a vice, teeth sinking into cheeks and lips, senses on high alert and blood running cold through her veins every time one of her calls ended with the voicemail. No one who could have given news seemed intent on doing so and with the sun high Y/N had stopped trying, inside the head her wolf's voice pushing to do something, anything, had slowly become a growl of anger.

If she had been there instead... if she had been with him, not at home, as she would have wanted... she could have helped him, she was used to sense everything, she would have done the same with him too... she would have been there for him...

She had wandered through the empty house, garden, until as if emerging from a trance she found herself in the middle of their forest, eyes fixed on the river, on those black waters and something else in her mind. Her wolf had fallen silent out of the blue, she had stopped trying to push her to go further, attention focused on the feeling that was regaining its footing within her, misery vanishing to give way to something else... fury, confusion, frustration, pain. Roman.

Y/N had strode back, feeling their bond again, every second stronger, every moment more oppressive, sure that he would come back, even if not how she would have wished, but he was doing it anyway and it was enough. He was alive, she hadn't lost him. In silence, clinging to those sensations, she had waited on the patio for hours until a trail of his scent reached her and she jumped up, planting herself in the middle of the driveway even before the large suv passed the gate and then reached her.

Its not good, dont like it.

Her eyes looked at him completely as soon as he got out of the car, her nostrils flaring due to the too many smells on him, anger rising within her too because of that one.

Blood.

- Ro? - she called, rushing to him, hands instinctively checking his body.

She had never seen him like this, not the first night he appeared before her as a wolf with blind fury into his honey eyes nor the night he had that breakdown because of elders' trial. He looked devastated and on the verge of exploding with his next breath, everything from his appearance to the aura he exuded was out of place, tattered, bruised and alarming. He smelled as a dead man, clothes were ruined, damp, his hair still loose and dirty, he had a black eye, there wasn't a inch of his body that wasn't tense and when Y/N tried to calm him down, giving him a minimum of relief and perhaps convince him to relax for a moment now that he was there, her hand ended up getting dirty with what she had already smelled.

- Is it your blood? – she asked in disbelief, looking at her fingers and barely receiving a glance from him.

She had thought he had it because of what had happened at the border, but that was fresh blood, he was bleeding now.

The blow.

- Why didn't you shift again to heal it?! - she urged, feeling him shake off her hands, anger increasing for all those attentions and she let go -... you can't stay like this. Go inside and wait me to pack the wound, I'll be right there.

Roman walked past her in silence, with long strides, almost giving impression of not having heard her and Y/N followed him with her gaze, a weight in her throat that threatened to choke her, until he disappeared inside still with his mind lost who knows where. Her she-wolf ears kept listening even afterwards, his heavy footsteps along the stairs, up to their bedroom and only then Y/N turned around, glaring at Heyman who was still near the suv, his face whiter than usual, eyes swollen as he looked where Roman disappeared too.

- I called you – she growled and he trembled visibly, grabbing the handle almost falling for her voice tone.

- It was... he... it was unexpected, no one expected it- he tried, clutching the ula-fala smeared with Roman's blood in his hands.

- It's your job to know what happens. Y’all were gone for a day and he comes back home like this?!

- W-we weren't ready... the twins, them, no one thought-we were focused on the border-

The border, that stupid useless border.

They kept talking about defending it securing their position, the family's role and Roman's role as alpha, but she couldn't bear to hear such stories right now. Not when she saw him return covered in blood and with pure chaos in his head. All those things didn't matter if he wasn't there, they were worth nothing and wouldn't have made a difference, she knew it because she had already been through it, she had already lost everything, she had survived and wasn't willing to go through it again.

- Make sure Solo is okay, make sure everyone is okay, and do it for real this time Paul. We'll deal with everything else later. Go now. Get out of my way.

She quickly glanced at the youngest of the family, still sitting inside the car with head down, completely ignoring Heyman's beaten-dog expression before turning and walking back inside. She had no idea what had happened, but he didn't seem to be well either and as much as Y/N wanted answers the priority in her mind was something else.

***

He had regained consciousness already growling, mind dizzy, eyes burning. His head felt like it had exploded, a messy, painful mess that left Roman gasping for air in the cold around him. For endless seconds he hadn't even heard the wiseman cries next to him or felt Solo presence, motionless on the edge of a remote road, ears ringing, his vision distorted and stomach turning every time he moved his body. He had been paralyzed in the middle of nowhere with only a whistling noise filling his mind, his heart racing with adrenaline, until his senses slowly began to function again and he remembered.

They had attacked him. Crashing him into a rock wall, injured and left there. They had served a simple win to his enemies, he had not been able to take back what belonged to him. His family… his pack… they had turned against him… again.

Traitors. Make 'em pay. Traitors. Strays.

Heyman had been repeating for hours that they needed to see a doctor, but Roman hadn't honored him with an answer, barricading himself in his own head, refusing help, feeling his blood dripping drop by drop.

Trust no one. We cannot be weak. Trust is not good.

It had always been that way and would always be that way.

As a kid he watched them play. They covered each other, they didn't do anything without each other, yet as soon as he came forward they stopped, saying that he ruined the game and he really did it, to punish them. They had grown up together like that, trying to reach the top, but when he had almost made it, they had turned the other way and left him in the mud. They had stood by and watched when he had tried to make a pack of himself, some friends and those friends had betrayed him to steal his place. He had brought them with him after years of hard work, because they were a family and as soon as the situation was no longer in their favor... it was an endless chain, the snake biting its own tail, life repeating the same lessons as if he was still the same person as ten years ago and that sense of emptiness, sick, cruel, which widened in the wound onto his back.

Roman, like one of the glorious ghosts that his mama told him about when he was a kid and others carried his burden. Strength, rigor, a machine that allowed no errors, the greatest empire in history... founded by wolves who hunted and killed to survive. Another lesson. Another story, the story of someone who believed in mercy, in reaching out and was eaten by those wolves because the world taught strenght, not goodness.

You must be strong.

Another round, another time, yet another betrayal, the scars becoming deeper, the blood thick.

Sitting on the bathroom bench, he glared at Y/N who had just appeared in the doorway, armed with medications. She didn't move, eyes fixed on him, brow furrowed and a grimace on her lips that Roman never wanted to see.

He wasn't weak. He was not used to lose… no more. He was the alpha now and the alpha stood tall.

- I know you won't get an infection, but lemme clean the wound anyway – she said softly, when Roman moved his gaze elsewhere, twitching his mouth with humiliation at the pain growing from that movement.

Motionless, he saw Y/N silently cleaning up the mess he had caused on the floor, her head down and expression impassive, as she threw away the cloth smeared with mud and blood before sitting down next to him. He stiffened instinctively, moving his head when her fingers tried to brush hair away from his face, his body still tense from what had happened, ready to snap. Y/N said nothing, waiting with patience, before trying again, this time even more slowly, an almost imperceptible touch that Roman simply followed with his gaze.

There was something deeply wrong. Part of him was screaming to get up and straighten his back, because that's how it had to be, how he had to show himself, but Y/N was his mate and his wolf didn't agree. He needed her attention, he wanted a reference point, something safe and only his that no one could take away or claim, Y/N was that and more… she was there… next to him. She was the only pack he couldn't risk losing, she was his future, their future, all that mattered. His real family. She had chosen to stay with him, for him, not for what he had.

- I'm almost done... – he heard her say in a whisper, while with her fingers she delicately dabbed the wound in his hair, her expression focused.

Surrounded by her scent, he let her hands tend to that and his bruised eye, as well as his swollen cheekbone alike. He let her untangle his hair and then take off his shirt, to go set up a bath and retrieve some clean clothes. In silence he accepted that she would take care of him, with that care that Y/N usually kept hidden and that in those moments with him instead she did not spare, arms that helped him to get up, stand upright, to also remove the rest of his clothes and finally slide inside the tub, hot water finally ready to relax his tense muscles. He breathed her good smell mixing with lotions, washing away the stench of dried blood and frozen mud where he had fallen and been trampled, soft hands washing everything away to give him back his former appearance. But his mind was still there, now that he had her by his side even more than before, realizing that she hadn't asked or commented. A bath wasn't enough to erase the stab in the back he had received, they couldn't pretend nothing had happened that time, even if she was convinced that silence was better and she tried to avoid the topic.

- The twins made it – he suddenly reported heavy and Y/N stopped, staring at him for a moment with sponge in her hand, expression confused.

She didn't believe it… Roman felt it and knew it. She could not imagine it, she hadn't yet understood and that was why he had tried to keep her away from that as long as he could. She didn't want that, for any of them, she begged him to make things right, but now she had to realize, he needed her to know exactly where she belonged, who tried to become their enemy. There were no more bridges to hold up or hands to offer.

- Jimmy attacked me while my back was turned – he announced, feeling water dripping from her hands.

- … Ro-

- Jey was there too… he stayed and watched – Roman remembered, blood pounding in his head and chest tightening.

Jimmy's actions had been as dumb as him, his cousin was unable of reasoning, Roman had never taken him seriously, he knew that it wouldn't take much to stick back his tail between legs and punish him, but Jey... Jey had already turned against him in the past, he had already tried to take his place, it had been war and he had done everything to make him understand what his place was, his role. Or so Roman had thought until that morning when he left him on the ground, spitting blood in the mud.

Not Jey.

He had chosen Jey as his right hand man. His second in command. He trusted him. The only one he would have been willing to leave everything to... and he had repaid him with another betrayal. Watching him crawl, humiliated, vulnerable, while his other half stabbed him in the back.

- ... it's our family- he heard Y/N try to reply behind him and finally he straightened his shoulders.

They were nothing without him. None of them. They wouldn't have gotten where they were without his sacrifices, without what he had done they would have stayed wild strays that people despised and looked at as circus freaks.

- There’s no family without me.

Silence. Not a word or a breath.

Ignoring the pain, he turned to look at her, meeting her eyes already fixed on him.

She knew, she had to understand one and for all.

- It's you and me. No one else, you heard me?!

Silence again.

Mate. Pack.

- … yes.

***

For every car that passed Jey raised his head, ears open, senses on alert, ready to fight and defend himself. They had stopped by some diner after hours of driving, on the parking side, but not far enough to arouse suspicion, it seemed they were passing by, having a break before leaving again. It wasn't crowded, but there were enough people to spread rumors and he knew how dangerous those whispers could be if they reached OG's ears. It was only a matter of time, it was only a question of when not ifs.

They were miles from home, on a road that led west into another state, far from the exact route they knew Uce would take to get back. They were distant, but not far enough, no distance was enough to diminish what had happened and it had been echoing like a nightmare in his head since then.

They were a family, families didn't behave like that. They had grown up like brothers.

Side by side. We need each others. As a pack.

Yet another noise from the gray building across the street, yet another gasp and his hand going to his pocket, where he had hidden his phone. He had used it to call home, to warn, ignoring the endless series of missed calls and messages of her that had reached him too late. Years ago, when they were still nothing, always fighting to fill their families tables, Jey would have called him and he would have gone to the other side of the garden, to check that his wife and boys were okay. Now he had warned them against him-

- Dad will speak for us, we good. They didn't know anything yet, he didn't even talked with them, tsk unreal! - Jimmy jumped out of nowhere with a disapproving sound and Jey kicked the tyre, letting go part of his turmoil and anxiety.

His brother looked at him in silence, knowing and Jey turned around, head low to observe the bottom of the street, empty for now. He heard him put down the coffee he had gotten from the diner and only then approach him, giving a comforting pat on his back. It didn't work that time though, because more he thought about it, more wrong it seemed. Be there, warn their father, home, the elders, everything. It was so wrong.

- Hey... we had to do it, we couldn't just keep pretending to make him happy. He growled at us, both of us, you saw it, he threw us down, called us idiots. It could only get worse – Jimmy tried to reason with him, his eyes briefly going to the diner.

He was watching his back too, because he knew it. He knew they were fucked.

- It's gotten worse now.

Roman had always had that attitude, holding them back as they were betas and as he grew older it only increased. He had often not been simple, he had often done it in the wrong ways and at wrong times, but could they really blame him? They knew how much it had cost to take on that burden from one moment to the next, they had been there, they had seen his continuous losses, the hatred that increased, rage growing with rumors. He too had been in Roman’s place a few years before and he couldn't say he had done better. He had attacked him too, he too had tried to hurt him when the opportunity had arrived, he too had done everything possible to leave him on his knees... Roman had only had less hesitations and he would have even less this time.

- You should be more tired than me, he has always targeted you, he’s always ready to put you down, talking shit... he has lost control Jey, thinks he can do whatever the fuck he wants, it has been going on for years, its too much now! I cant stand him damn! – Jimmy growled, quickly pulling away, looking him up and down and Jey stiffened.

He cant stand him, yeah...

- We are a family – he reminded him harshly.

He had taken more than a push and a few growls, more than a slap and an annoyed look. He had managed to put aside humiliation, pain for the blood in their veins. That was thick, it wasn't water, they couldn't wipe it away and it wouldn't go away. They had promised to put everything aside, to be a real pack and it had worked, it had gone so well... yes, it hadn't always been easy, they had worked hard and sacrificed a lot, but the table had remained full, roofs above their heads and no one of them had hit rock bottom with the other one next to them, they had achieved everything.

- Don’t look me that way! He forgot it, not me. A’ight im your brother, not him! He doesn't care, he treats us like toys that thinks he always has at his disposal whenever he wants, we are not on equal terms, he doesn't have the slightest respect and that’s worth more than his trash Jey. It's his fault we got to this point. Ain’t the bad guy here!

- So we let's start war again? One more time Jim? after what happened years ago?!

He didn't want to go through it again, not again, he didn't want to relive those moments or look at him in the face as an enemy. It had been so hard... he remembered his mama constantly calling to beg him to stop, his dad watching in silence, all those familiar eyes focused, waiting to know who among them would be up to it and pain, suffocating, physical, mental, a weight that had bent his back almost breaking him. Those eyes that he had always thought he knew, the shadow, so dark, without mercy or love, that had crossed them, realize in the worst moment that Roman, his same blood, would have done anything to get him out of the way, everything without a limit. The boy who had grown up with him, inside his house, on the street, in the forest, every day, side by side, like a brother, had become the enemy and something had triggered in his stomach, same anger, same desire to make him equally bad, like wolves struggling to survive. Roman was no longer Roman and Jey was no longer the same as before.

- Hey, it won't be like the last time, trust me. Think about that, we're together now. He’s alone, we have a great opportunity, we can do as- he proposed and his hand silenced him with a push before the end.

Jimmy had no idea what he was talking about, he didn't know, he had just gotten in the way the first time, he hadn't been in his place, he hadn't really seen and now he was ranting. He had no idea.

- He’s not alone. Our brother is with him, Solo is there to stand by him, defend him and you want him to do it against us?! And Y/N, he has a mate now, have you thought about her?! We're threatening her too and he has everything to lose now!

He didn't understand, he wasn't thinking, he didn't-

-And he'll lose everything if he doesn't get back in line this time – he blurted out harshly, head held high, gaze serious.

Jey stared at him in silence, looking him up and down, sensing through the bond what burned inside him. He knew that feeling, he had seen that look before. Jimmy was the other half of him, the rope he clung to when the weight became too much and he was afraid of sinking, like in that moment.

- Solo will end up in our place a few years from now, you know it will happen, he keeps him close for a reason. We do it for him too – he made him think and he couldn't help but lower his head, knowing in some way he was right this time – and we're doing Y/N a favor, for what we know – he added, making him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

- She’s been calling for hours, I dont think so – he disagreed, almost feeling his phone burning.

He hadn't even counted how many times her name had appeared on the screen when he turned it back on, but he didn't need to do that or have an open mental link with her to know what had happened. Her and Roman were mates, no matter how long it took them to find each other or how difficult it was for them to get closer. They had scared her and it was the kind of thing Jey didn't want, because he had seen Takecia's eyes years ago and no one deserved to go through that.

- Naomi will talk to her... Im sure she’ll understand as soon as we have told her everything and maybe she’ll be an extra help. We're doing this for everyone Jey, it's not an attack, we're doing it for the family.

They did it for everyone... for the family, he said. Surround him and turn everyone against him, even the only person he really cared about now. It was right? Didn't seem like it. Uce too was family.

We're a pack. We need to be a pack.

-Jimmy- he complained, head almost exploding for the pain and his brother physically blocked him, eyes searching for him.

His same eyes. His true blood. His safety rope once again.

- We’ll talk to him first, okay? I promise you, we'll try. I gotchu uce.

***

Bath had helped, but it still took time to get him to really relax and close his eyes. He needed it though, Y/N had felt his tiredness, the tension and anxiety of someone who is ready to snap at any moment for anything. It was something she had felt too, when she was just a child and her whole world had disappeared in a matter of hours. She knew the feeling, the need to watch her back to survive, the helplessness to avoid it and anger ready to come out, when it was too late for anything. Her life had been empty and perpetually on guard since that day, but now she had Roman and he had her, he wasn't alone, she wouldn't leave him alone even if choosing him meant losing someone else again.

Mate need us. He’s our pack. We watch his back.

They had attacked him… their family.

Her fingers stroked softly along the side of his face that was slowly healing. His wolf would bring him back to strength whether he shifted or not, but for now signs were there, proving what had happened and what could have been worse. Lying against her side, Roman didn't move, comforted by her presence and the sleep had now overcome him, his arm stretched across her legs, his breathing heavy. That bed that Y/N had hated for weeks had truly become their nest, home the only safe place.

She didn't understand why it had happened, she didn't understand how the attempt to help his cousins, to prove he was ready to support them, had become a family war. They had grown up together, they had conquered everything together, they had gone to face a common enemy and instead the enemies had become them overnight. She didn't think it was possible that those two had done something like that, Y/N didn't think they were capable of such a betrayal, not them who had welcomed her, helped her, Jey and Jimmy weren't that kind of people. It didn't seem real, something in the bottom of her heart couldn't find peace, and yet, instinct or not, it had happened and Roman had paid.

Thoughtfully, she traced the skin of his inked arm with her nails, feeling it already free of scratches, and with a heavy breath she placed a soft kiss on his bruised cheekbone, before slipping off the bed and leaving him to rest. She tiptoed downstairs, trying to get some clarity in her head and perhaps take advantage of the stuff that his mama had brought at dawn, to prepare something to fill his stomach with. In the silence of the house, she made coffee and cooked some chicken and vegetables, he liked chicken and when he would wake up it would probably be time for dinner. Her wolf wanted him back strong and Y/N couldn't blame her, seeing him in that shape had been worse than she thought. With her cup, she armed herself with good will, cleaning up where his passage had left traces of blood and mud, while from the home voicemail Paul's exhausted voice asked for news, without giving them back.

- Such a wise man – she commented sarcastically into her coffee.

His ramblings and mumblings like a worried girlfriend wouldn't have better the situation or explained why it had happened. Him, who always knew everything about everyone, listened to every rumors, every whisper, who transformed strength into power, control and who had contributed with his talents to the birth of that empire of which Roman was the head, now stammered and whimpered, aged and impotent in one night. She would have found it funny if Roman and everything she cared about hadn't ended up in the middle. For once she hoped that Paul would do his job, getting back on his feet to at least give her an answer.

Cleaning up and taking care of everything helped her mind not panic, kept her nerves in place, but didn't clarify the situation. And her eyes instinctively went to the phone that she had left in the living room and with which she had called him and the twins for hours. She hadn't checked to see if they'd answered after Roman comeback, and leaving the cup behind, she went to check it.

There was only a call from Lisa, probably to ask about Roman, and a message from Naomi. She opened the second in silence, sitting in one of the armchairs, eyes running over what she had written.

She was sorry.

So it was true? Had Jimmy and Jey really attacked him? Y/N still didn't understand. Naomi was asking her to call back, if she was okay. Her? Because of the bond and what had happened? And why hadn't she tried calling her right away if she wanted to talk about it, how she could only write a few words after what had happened?

- What are you doing? – Roman asked behind her and Y/N turned around quickly, seeing him still with a livid face on the other side of the room, hair undone and gaze deadly serious.

- Why are you here? You need to sleep at least a couple of hours – she scolded him, letting go of the phone again to reach him.

She watched him stand there, like a broken statue, eyes fixed behind her even as her hands tried to straighten him out. Seriously, she let her fingers slide along his torso, trying to understand, feeling his tension still high and only when he didn't show any signs of moving, Y/N physically forced him to look at her, pressing her forehead against his. She heard him breath her scent, as he always did, it calmed him, but it only lasted a moment before he straightened up again, looking at her.

- You left me – his voice was hoarse, probably due to tiredness and sleep, but her wolf understood anyway and Y/N took a heavy breath in return.

She hadn't left him behind, she hadn't walked away with her back turned. His mind was making things bigger after what had happened and she couldn't blame him.

- I thought you would be hungry when you woke up... - she clarified patiently, pointing towards what was cooking on the kitchen, before caressing his wrist absentmindedly, eyes examining the wound on his forehead - you need to rest - she tried worried again, but he pulled his head back.

- Im fine.

He said it in a tone that didn't allow any replies, almost irritated, but Y/N knew that wasn't true. She didn't need to hear him say it, she just knew it. She too had passed through that and she didn't really believe she had been better off after, at least until him and his family started filling it again. Now it was emptying again, but it wouldn't be completely empty. He had said it too, he had made her promise.

- Okay… so let's have dinner, we'll think about rest later. Come with me big boy, lets go – she established, pulling him behind her.

Air was heavy, everything seemed to be heavy, but they were still together.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @spritelucozade @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @jxtina-86 @harmshake @harlem11680 @southerngirl41 @sparxx27 @foreverlyjay @theglamclosetsl

#roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x female reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fic

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faefaye · 1 year

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Sometimes I get so emotional about the original Klein.

He was just a normal person with simple dreams of having a better life and a bigger house with his siblings. His education was through Sunday school until his father's death provided the money for enrolling somewhere else. The year he entered university, his mother died. Despite or because of all that, he worked hard trying to achieve what he wanted.

While he got average results in university, that's because he got in on a scholarship and was of a lower social and economic class compared to most of his peers, having to study a lot more to catch up. During which he ended up knowing at least half a dozen different languages. After graduating, he immediately started to prepare for his interview and was just two days away from going for it... then came 28th June.

Somewhere out there is a world in which the Antigonus notebook incident didn't happen, where he passed that interview and lived an ordinary and happy life as a university lecturer (although maybe not all that ordinary if he went after Fourth Epoch history following his interest :p).

Don't get me wrong, I adore LOTM Klein, but I can't help but wonder about the person he was and could be without the infusion of Zhou Mingrui.

(hiding canon quotes illustrating this under the read more, do feel free to add other information on og Klein):

Chapter 1: (1) [His father's] bereavement allowance gave Klein the opportunity to study in a private language school and laid the foundation for his admission into university...

(2) [His mother] passed away the year Klein passed the entrance examinations to Khoy University...

Chapter 2: However, back when he burned the midnight oil four years ago to be admitted into Khoy University[...]

Chapter 3: (1) In light of the present situation, Zhou Mingrui believed that if Klein were to return to university, it was unlikely he could graduate. This was despite him having left campus just days ago without relaxing one bit.

(2) It was not that Klein did not think of helping share his elder brother’s burden but being born a commoner and having been admitted into an average language school, he felt a strong sense of inadequacy when he enrolled into university. For example, as the origin of all languages in the Northern Continent, the ancient language of Feysac was something all the children of nobles and of the wealthy class would learn from a young age. In contrast, he only made first contact with it in university.

He faced many similar aspects during his schooling career. Klein nearly gave his all and often stayed up late into the night and woke up early before barely managing to catch up to the others, eventually allowing him to graduate with average results.

Chapter 4: In his memory fragments, he had once fantasized about renting a bungalow in the suburbs. There would be five or six rooms, two bathrooms, a huge balcony upstairs, two rooms, a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and an underground storage room on the first floor.

Chapter 9: Having set his sights on solving the mystery and restoring history, Klein didn’t have much interest in the first three eras, whose roots were closer to legends. He was more interested in the Fourth Epoch, also known as the Age of the Gods.

Chapter 18: "Of course, when I received primary education during Sunday school[...]"

Chapter 24: With Klein requiring a scholarship to finance his university studies, he, Welch, and the others had joined Khoy University’s rowing club and were pretty good at it.

Chapter 98: As for the original Klein, he had focused on his studies early on and had suffered from malnutrition. That led him to possess a below-average physical condition.

Chapter 260: The original Klein was a fanatic towards the history of the Fourth Epoch. He often read journal articles and books, so even now, Klein still remembered a lot of content.

Chapter 323: (1) He tried the words in ancient Feysac, Intis, Loen, and other languages again, but the result was the same.

As for Jotun, Elvish, Dragonese, and other languages from the mysticism domain, Klein could only try them out of hope since they was overly restrictive and unlikely to be the language used.

(2) Klein switched to the languages of Loen, Highlander, and Feysac, but still failed to achieve the desired results.

(Klein studied Jotun after transmigrating, but even excluding all the mysticism languages, considering he knew Hermes in Chapter 1, there's five)

(edited 17/05/23 to add the quote from Ch 98)

#lord of the mysteries #lotm #lord of mysteries #klein moretti

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mytalemyworld · 28 days

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Alaz: Where are we? We need a doctor! Open it! Asi: Alaz…come. Alaz: What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong. Asi: Sit here. Alaz: No, I can't. I need to persuade those guys. Asi: Alaz…it's over. Alaz: It is not, sssshhh. Asi: Nobody will come. Alaz: They will. You hold on, just hold on, okay? Asi…They will. Open your eyes, look at me. Listen what I am going to say…we haven't talked about this before. Asi, open your eyes, look at me. You know, that night, on new year's eve…I came to you. Do you know why? When I ran over Yaman and Rüya…you know there's a saying: "your life flashes before your eyes" There was only you before my eyes on that night, Asi. Only you. Then I found myself on your door. I was drawn to you. So it wasn't planned. Everything we lived was real.

He wanted her to not lose her consciousness but also finally cleared that misundertanding. That creep already made it clear that he didn't care if she was alive or not. He just needed Alaz. She knew nobody was coming. If they wanted to help them, they would have already done when they were being taken to the another place. Ooofff.

Like, I know he desperately needed to tell the truth because it was eating him alive…but honey, you already showed how real it was for you through your actions otherwise do you think she could let you be by her side?

Also they were holding hands for the first time. Well, this doesn't hurt at all.

Asi: Then do you know how I was drawn to you? Alaz: How? Asi: The first day I realised you were a human not a robot I asked myself what was going on, could it be that I was drawn to this spoiled rich brat? Alaz: Which day was it? Asi: You were sad about Çağla at the hospital. You left your arrogance aside that day. You acted like an elder brother. You acted like a human. I said to myself he knew how to love, he had a heart.

STOP IT STOP IT

No, you don't understand, this was the best explanation of why she could never lose her faith in him despite everything he did. She might fight him, say many hurtful things but at the end of the day she always remembers he's capable of loving selflessly, caring. They had an understanding because of Rüya & Yaman's relationship but to be able to love him, she needed to see something more. Because he wanted Rüya for his selfish reasons and he could be cruel to his own brother so it was normal for her to think maybe he was nothing but a monster. But after having seen how devastated he was for Çağla she let herself fall for him.

Asi: Alaz, listen to me. I am going to say something. Open your eyes. Look at me. Look at me in the eyes. Listen to me. We haven't talked about this before, right? Alaz: About what? Asi: I love you. Alaz: Me too. I love you too. That's why you will hold on. We'll get out of here, okay?

OKAY STAB ME IT WOULD HURT LESS.

Just like how he tried to get her attention so she could think about another things not her wound, she freaking did the same, used the same words because he was crying but then she confessed her feelings and he couldn't even be happy for a moment because the only reason she confessed her love was the fact that she knew she was dying. And even in that state she tried to give him a little bit strength. Because you know she always puts her loved ones before herself.

Emotional state: 1 thousand percent not okay. Even after knowing they are well now, this will never stop hurting me. Because how raw, how touching their feelings are. I kind of agree with Zafer. This is such an epic love story.

#yabani #asi x alaz

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citrenecult · 1 year

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Hear me out, what if, instead of JUST Narinder, another bishop decided to betray their siblings to fight along side him?

I'll let you decide who it is.

It’s funny how both of these are almost the same XD

This is a little hard for me to fully realize as, depending on which siblings it is, the au would turn out very different from each other.

So I’ll throw out my general thoughts for each sibling.

Leshy I can see siding with Narinder very easily. He is close with and looks up to his brother, while also very naive and trusting. Because I see Narinder’s betrayal and eventually downfall as his own undoing rather than all the bishops turning on him, I can see him manipulating his younger brother onto his side. Leshy at the time of the betrayal is very malleable and moldable, feed him a certain story and he’d believe it.

I think once actual harm as been done to his other siblings does he start to think maybe Narinder is in the wrong but because he’s younger and Narinder has a tight grasp over Leshy, the young god still chooses to follow after him. After all, by been an accomplice to the betrayal, the other bishops wouldn’t want him back, right?

Shamura is another one I can see siding with Narinder, but that is mostly because Shamura loves Narinder and wants to help him in any way they can. Due to their prophetic abilities, they have been plagued by visions of Narinder turning in the rest of the bishops and hurting the family they worked hard to cultivate, so going along with Narinder schemes in hopes to maybe convincing him otherwise would have the best idea in their mind.

I don’t think it would have worked out well for any of them in the end.

Kallamar was not a coward before the betrayal, but he was and is weak-willed. He is bendable, as well as breakable. He probably overheard whatever Narinder was planning and and freaked out.

Kallamar, as Narinder’s elder brother (in my imagining), tried to steer Narinder off that path to no avail. Narinder could probably threaten him to a continued silence and roped him his plans whether or not Kallamar truly wanted to participate. By the time the betrayal happened, Kallamar is well informed but too afraid to warn the others. When he finally had the courage to do so, it had been far, far too late.

Heket is a tricky one because I can’t see her and Narinder really have that stable of a relationship to really warrant her siding with Narinder. But what if…

(im jumping a jumping a shark here)

Okay, idea. Heket and Narinder team up willingly in hopes to take over the old faith? Heket has anger issues and Narinder’s growing bitterness could have them work together towards a common goal, even if they convince themselves they are only out for themselves. Even if the betrayal goes awry, it could be a bonding experience for the two.

I’m thinking the phrase “misery loves company” when it comes to this.

Anyways, those are my thoughts. If anyone else has thoughts I’d love to read them! As it stands though, I’m going to sleep✌️

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl narinder #cotl the one who waits #cotl leshy #cotl shamura #cotl kallamar #cotl heket #cotl au #au concepts #my stuff #answered asks

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batboysoneshots · 3 months

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Koala Hug

Saw this idea and had to write it!

Summary: Dick introduces damian to some cartoons and damian sees a kid do the koala leg cling thing on a adult and has been doing it to bruce ever since.

When questioned, he just claims it helps him get to where he wants to go around the manor faster and that bruce is the only one strong enough to carry his weight.

Bruce doesn't question it, because his baby boy is acting his age and being silly/cute.

Thought this would be a cute idea.

Third person pov...

Dick decided that his little Brother needs to have a childhood, the next week he made Damian watch lots of different cartoons with him.

Dick was expecting to kid to tell him no but actually wanted to watch them, so they sat on the lounge and watched cartoons.

After they started watching them Damian became obsessed with the koala hug the kids do to their parents, over the next few days Damian nervously stared over at his father.

He wanted to koala hug him bit was to nervous to ask such a childish thing off him. An idea came to him one day, the boys were playing hide and seek Damian was running around trying tk find somewhere to hide.

"95 96 97 98 99 100!" Yells Dick from upstairs he was the seeker, Tim , Jason and Damian where the hiders, the 11 year old wonders down into the cave hoping to find somewhere to to hide.

There he finds Bruce, the man had just got back from a meeting with the league and was still in his Bat suit, Damian wondered closer. His footsteps made Bruce look up and over his shoulder.

He softens his expression and smiles at his son. "Damian" he says the boy nods his head at the man. "Father" he says and looks around for somewhere to hide.

Bruce sees the worried expression on his son. "What's wrong Son?" He asks he boy suddenly Dicks voice can be heard. "Dami! Where are youuuu!" He screeches, echoing in thr cave.

Damian winces at the horrible sound and Bruce instantly understands. "Hide and seek right" he says the boy nods his head, Bruce then thinks of somewhere for Damian to hide.

Hearing footsteps he motions the boy over. "Get under there" he whispers motioning to under the table, Damian looks at him with wide eyes before crawling underneath the Batcomputer by Bruce's legs.

Bruce then makes sure he was covers by his Cape resumed typing something into the computer, Damain was frozen not sure what he should do. He shivered the cave was cold.

Looking at his father's legs he remembered the koala hug he wanted to try. Slowly he moved closer, jumping slightly when his elder brothers footsteps got closer he wrapped his arms and legs around his father's and instantly became warmer.

He felt the man tense at first then relax, Damian relaxed with him, comfortable holding onto the legs like a koala. Woth Bruce he tried to not smile as he felt the young boy relax holding his legs.

Behind him Dick came into the cave. "Damians not here Chum" he tells the elder boy, Dick just hums to himself and looks around for 10 minutes before leaving to find Damian.

Of course he didn't think the boy would be hiding under the Batcomputer. Damian eventually fell asleep holding onto Bruce's legs just like he wanted.

After that game of hide and seek Damian has been doing it to bruce ever since.

When questioned, he just claims it helps him get to where he wants to go around the manor faster and that bruce is the only one strong enough to carry his weight.

Bruce didn't mind he was jsut happy his baby was acting like the child he was and was being cute.

The end!

Hope you liked this oneshot, Sorry for any grammar and Spelling mistakes.

Request are open!

Word count: 666

#batboys #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #oneshot #batman fanfiction #family #fluff #damian wayne #father son #cute #hide and seek #koala hug #batboys oneshot #damian wayne is a child #fluff and feels #family bonding

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sasukeless · 10 months

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just wondering aloud here but what do you think about the many negative feelings towards itachi? i mean obviously he did very bad things but i think about my siblings (and family, and friends, and loved ones) and maybe i wouldn’t go so far as to annihilate my entire clan like he did, but… i would go very far for them, i think. once someone recognizes how his betrayal and actions thereafter are out of love and duty the theme/story becomes very, very different, just mostly sad.

which is not to mention that he was a child soldier and was straight up murdering ppl before he turned ten!! at ten i was still making mud pies with dirt outside !!!!

also it’s not that deep but idk i think about the two brothers and get sad sometimes.

okay this is a really complicated because as much as i like itachi as a character i understand very well why people hate him or are critical of him.

the thing about itachi people hate is how he’s portrayed in the narrative itself. kishimoto wants the audience to view itachi massacring his family as a good and honorable thing and not as something horrific. his crime is glorified as the peak of a great shinobi and will of fire, which in the text, are put as the good side. so ofc anyone that actually stops and thinks what they are reading will go HUH?

its true that itachi was a child soldier and was groomed at 13 to do what he did but itachi dies as a grown person and STILL he never thinks of the course action he took as the wrong one. it certainly brought guilt to him killing his clan if he wanted to be killed so bad by sasuke’s hands to “right” things but until the very end he saw his clan as if they had been in the wrong for standing against konoha. and yes we can just say that’s because how deep the brainwashing went but it still doesn’t absolve him because as any grown person you have to do retrospection in your life. (sorry for using my dumb phd in star wars here as an example but take anakin. he was groomed to become evil since he was a child yet still you can’t say he’s not a villain because at the end of the day it’s him who is killing children and the movie doesn’t tell you this is good thing because he’s doing it to “save” his wife. it’s a selfish horrific act and the narrative paints it as such)

it doesn’t help that itachi as a character is a big mess in certain areas that came with him being a straight up villain in part 1 then “broken hero” in part 2. it’s true itachi chooses danzo’s way to kill their entire clan to spare his little brother’s life but the elders did not tell him to make sasuke watch that and psychologically ruin sasuke for life, and then coming back to the village and doing it again. he did that in his own accord because he selfishly wants to dictate sasuke’s actions. he was very controlling of sasuke’s life but the funniest thing is that he couldn’t see it until after he dies but people still paint these actions as good (even though in his rarest moment where he gained self awareness, he says himself he was wrong).

i don’t doubt he loves sasuke more than anything but for 99% of his arc it was a very obsessive and controlling and ruthless kind of love in which he was the one to hurt sasuke the most with the actions he committed to protect him.

i personally love and hate itachi as a character, he’s fascinating because of how fucked up he really is. i enjoy characters like that overall. and i love fucked up siblings relationships and itachi and sasuke are one that drives me crazy because the love is really there despite everything! but still i’m not blind to kishimoto’s propaganda i can see the faults in his writing and why people (me included) hate the narrative he tried to push

#this got lengthy i’m sorry *deflated hamster picture*#mine

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writerpetals · 1 year

Text

bloom | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

a/n: this was another “trick-r-treat” smut that had no name, so i’m naming it bloom because it makes me think of troye sivan’s “bloom”, it fits the vibe~

Being the late bloomer of your pack feels like a curse was placed on you from the very beginning. Being a werewolf while watching all of your friends grow up alongside you, shifting, learning the ins and outs of your kind, playing together while running through the forest and howling beneath a full moon, seems like nothing short of a cruel joke. Life was never easy on you, feeling like you didn’t fit in with humans because there was something different about you, while also never feeling like you fit in with the other wolves your age because you couldn’t shift like them.

Not to mention your pack treating you different. The elders were, of course, sympathetic. You aren’t the first werewolf to have trouble shifting and adjusting to the changes of your kind. But they pitied you, and in the end, it made you feel less than them. The wolves your age teased you, always giving you a hard time even if they meant it as playful banter. You couldn’t help your feelings when their words got to you.

There was always him, however. Whenever the other wolves learned to shift for the first time around their teenage years, running off to sprint through the woods and feel the wind in their fur, your best friend always stayed behind with you to make sure you weren’t lonely. Though, you always put on a brave face for him, telling him to go play with the rest of them. As you grew up and friends around you began to find relationships and even potential mates (either for a lifetime, or just one night when in heat), he was always close by to keep you company so you didn’t feel left out.

Admitting your guilt for holding him back would only be admitting you didn’t fit in. You tried to assure him there was no need to take care of you, but after having grown up with him, your parents and his being close friends in the same pack from an early age, you learned he was going to look out for you and be there for you whether you liked it or not.

“Hey, wanna go for a run later?”

Even if the other wolves, your friends, continue to give you a hard time.

“You know she doesn’t, Josh,” he growls at another wolf from your pack while walking behind him down the street to a cafe favorited by all of you. He stays close to your side as Josh throws his head back and laughs, and you force a smile so they won’t know how much it hurts.

“I’m just teasing,” Josh says, turning around to give you a wink. You know the other wolf means well, just like everyone else in your pack. He would never actually want to hurt your feelings and you’re sure if you told him how you honestly felt, he would knock it off. Admitting it is the hardest part. Facing the fact that you’re different from your closest friends and can never truly be a part of the pack like they can is what truly hurts.

“What about you?” Aria, a wolf your age from the same pack asks your best friend while looking behind her between the two of you as she walks beside Josh. She offers a sweet smile while tucking her long, blonde strands of hair behind her ear. If you were considered a late bloomer, she was the earliest. She knew how to shift before even becoming a teenager. It stings all the more to know she’s twice the wolf you will ever be, and is always trying to get him to shift and run with her.

“Nah,” he says with a shake of his head, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jeans and looking down at his feet scuffing against the sidewalk, “I think I’ll stay back tonight.”

You can’t help the pride that swells in your chest, even if you know it’s wrong. You’re sure he just wants to stay with you so you don’t feel left out. Though, you’re aware she is only doing what you would do if you were in her position. It’s what any wolf would do, so you don’t blame her in the slightest. Jealousy over the fact that she has the option to shift and run with him doesn’t even begin to describe it.

“Suit yourself,” she says with a shrug just as the four of you reach the small cafe. Josh and Aria head inside, and you would follow them if he didn’t stop you with a gentle hold on your arm.

“We’ll catch up in a second,” he tells them, but they’re already waving and saying hello to the friends the four of you were meeting there.

“What’s up?” Frowning, you turn away from the door to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I know it bugs you,” he begins, his voice falling to a whisper while rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the ground between the two of you, “their jokes, I mean.”

Laughing, you roll your eyes and shake your head. “It’s just Josh being Josh. It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Finally, his eyes meet your own. The mood has shifted to something more serious and you can tell he is trying to get you to open up to him. “I mean… it doesn’t bother you? That you can’t shift and do… I don’t know… the shit we’re all doing?”

A weight falls on your chest. How can you tell him it bothers you more than you can possibly explain? How can you tell him you don’t even feel like part of the pack at this point without feeling pathetic?

“What am I supposed to do?” Your voice is quiet as you ask. You look away from him, watching the tip of your sneaker kick and pebble and scuff against the concrete, heart racing like it’s trying to push the pain away.

“I can help you.”

You scoff, though your anger isn’t toward him. “How?”

“Just… I don’t know…” He releases a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping with a shake of his head. “We can figure it out, okay? We can work together on it and we can-”

Aria opens the glass door to the cafe to interrupt the two of you. Both of you turn to see her grinning after poking her head out, motioning to finally come inside.

“C’mon,” she says, reaching for your arm to pull you closer, “Josh is telling us about this human girl he’s into and it’s starting to get good.”

Chuckling, you follow her inside with him right behind you, thankful to her for getting you out of having to spill your heart out to him.

__________

He drags you out of your house a few days later while in the middle of binging on ice cream and watching terrible TV.

“We’re wolves!” he told you with a stern tone while watching you slip your sneakers on. “We don’t sit inside and watch TV all day! We enjoy nature!”

You wanted to roll your eyes but you knew he wouldn’t stop until he got his way. So you followed him out to your favorite spot deep into the forest and to the large lake at the very center. The two of you used to run away to the secret location as kids and hide out until sundown until one of your parents called you for dinner.

Now it’s the place he can always find you when you want to be alone, and it’s where you’re following him now until you see the familiar old dock and the blackness of the water swallowing the sandy bank.

“Why are we out here?” you ask him, already too hot, too sweaty, and too invested in your TV show to be interrupted in the middle of it. The ice cream wasn’t so bad, either, and you regret letting him take it from you to put back in the freezer for later.

“I told you,” he says before gripping the hem of his t-shirt and pulling it over his head, “I want to help you.”

You raise a brow, watching him ruffle his messy hair and flash a grin. “Does that require you being naked?”

Then his smile falls, and you can’t help but giggle. “I’m not getting naked, but if I have to shift…”

“Right, of course.” You nod, pursing your lips together. Ruining clothes from shifting is something you never had to worry about, at least. “Can’t wait to see what you have in mind.”

“Don’t be so negative,” he warns you with a wrinkled brow, reaching to shove your shoulder playfully. You aren’t trying to be negative, of course. But after spending all your life waiting for the moment when the wolf in you would take over, it’s hard to be optimistic about it.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I really am grateful you’re willing to help.”

His smile returns. “I’m always here to help.”

Hecproceeds to explain his plan of helping you get in touch with your animal side, informing you he’s heard of wolves that had difficulty shifting due to them not being in touch with their emotions. After all, werewolves rely on their feelings allowing them to transform just as much as they rely on nature and their pack. You admit to him you never really thought about it before, always trying to push aside your feelings for the sake of others, and always trying to put on a brave face under the pressures of keeping up with everyone else. He informs you he thinks that’s the reason you’re having problems, and as time went on, it only made you shut that part of you away.

You admit it makes sense, and curse at him for being so smart. Though you are thankful, and you’re glad to have someone to take their time on you to help instead of automatically expecting so much from you.

“What do you think about?” you ask him after a while, settled on the bank by the lake, shoes off, leaning back on the ground while looking at the sun reflecting off the ripples in the water. “When you shift, I mean. What goes through your mind?”

“Nothing, really,” he admits with a chuckle. “Well, nothing now. It’s too easy to shift after so many years.”

His words suddenly steal away all the confidence you were gaining after learning what could possibly be your problem. The weight on your chest returns, reminding you that while they have spent years learning how to be werewolves just like their parents, you spent that time not fitting in.

“But a long time ago,” he begins again, sensing the sudden shift in your mood as you become lost in your thoughts, “I would think about what makes me happy, or sad, or angry. Anything at all. I would channel it and it’s like everything was released all at once the moment I turned. I felt free, and none of it mattered anymore.”

A moment of silence passes, your heart growing heavy. “It must be nice.”

“You’ll get there,” he says, nudging your arm gently with his elbow.

“I don’t think so,” you admit for the first time, releasing a heavy breath and closing your eyes. “If it hasn’t happened now. I mean, what if I’m not even a wolf at all?”

He bursts into laughter, and you frown at him. “You are definitely a wolf,” he tells you, settling into a smile as he looks at you. “I can smell it on you.”

“Ew.” Your face twists to make him chuckle more. “I… can’t even do that. I have no heightened senses. I can’t shift. I can’t… do anything.”

He can’t help but to throw an arm over your shoulders to pull you close. “C’mon now, baby wolf.” The nickname has you rolling your eyes even if a smile forms on your lips. It’s something he’s called you since you were little, when he wants to feel close to you, and he wants you to know he cares about you. Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder, eyes closing once again.

After a while, you call his name.

“Hm?”

“What do I smell like?” As you ask, your heart pounds in your chest, waiting for an answer even though you aren’t sure what to expect. Smells and scents never meant much to you, but you’re aware it’s something your kind finds important. He remains silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts and it isn’t until you finally pick your head up to look at him do you see his soft smile.

“You smell like… chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.”

“What?!” You pull away from him, watching him chuckle. “Are you serious?”

“Mhm, but not just any regular chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. You smell like the kind from the ice cream shop in the center of town, the one our parents used to take us to when we were little.” His smile grows wider as he talks, and you listen with a racing heart. “You smell like the rain on a sunny afternoon, when it was summer and there was no school and we could play outside until it was dark. You smell like… like fall leaves and dewy mornings. Like a clean pillowcase after a long day.”

As that, he pauses to laugh, though you assume it’s more to himself. A tint of heat rises to his cheeks, and you can’t pull your eyes away from him, or speak, or do anything but listen as he talks.

“You smell like everything that comforts me, I guess.” He turns to you to offer a warm smile. “Like home.”

__________

You left him with a promise that you would think about what he said. You told him you would consider trying to look deep inside yourself to realize your feelings, tuning into your emotions to channel everything you have ever felt in an attempt to shift. He left you confident it would work, and a few days passed without hearing from him. You assume he didn’t want to put too much pressure on you, giving you space to figure it all out.

So you tried your best as the days went on. One afternoon you sat down in your bedroom in silence, settling in the middle of your bed with no distractions. You focused on your feelings in the moment, trying to realize your true emotions deep down inside, but you quickly became frustrated when nothing changed. You weren’t even sure how you felt other than annoyed at yourself, and part of you believes that’s what is holding you back.

So you tried again, taking time out of your day to get some fresh air. You plopped down in a spot in your backyard, lucky enough to be away from neighbors that could witness your attempts. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then realized you were making no progress at all. You had no idea what to think about, what to feel, what to do. You tried channeling your emotions, but all you felt was silly for sitting in the grass by yourself.

Then you gave up for the moment. It wasn’t until he called to meet him at the lake did you even think about your feelings and emotions, shifting and being a werewolf. You knew he was only calling to hopefully hear good news.

As you make your way to the lake, you wish you had something better to tell him. After a few failed attempts, you only feel foolish for thinking it could actually work. I’m not a real wolf, you remind yourself as you make the long walk to your favorite spot. I’m going to disappoint him.

Once you reach the lake, you realize he hasn’t made it yet. Sighing, you take a seat next to the water’s edge, trying to think of what you’re going to tell him so he won’t be too upset.

He’s always trying to help, you think. He’s stayed by my side no matter what.

Warmth feels your chest to replace the heaviness you usually feel when thinking about him. Your thoughts are suddenly flooded with him and all the ways he’s taken care of you throughout the years. From nights spent together when the rest of your pack was out running, to days sticking up for you when the others would give you a hard time. Even down to always trying to make you feel included when you felt like nothing but an outsider, he’s been your best friend through it all.

As the memories distract you, your body suddenly feels hot. Too hot. Sweat beads against your forehead, heat spiraling from the pit of your stomach to your fingers and toes. There’s an ache that settles in your bones and an itch deep into your spine that begins to drive you crazy. You stand from your spot at once, but your knees begin to tremble, your legs suddenly weak. You feel light headed but your body feels heavy. The world around you stops, but it’s as if everything is moving all at once.

One second you’re standing, and the next you’re falling to your knees, hands catching your body as they press to the dirt. Your back arches and you dry heave, skin burning so hot you swear you could melt. But suddenly it’s not skin anymore. Your hands don’t have fingers and your nose begins growing from your face. Fur lines your limbs in a blink of an eye before a groan rips through the forest, followed by a howl. Your hands, now large, sturdy paws, press into the dirt and your bones snap into place to make you feel sick to your stomach.

It happens so fast yet it feels like it takes forever. One second you’re human, the next you’re on all fours howling once again. The heat settles and now it feels so comfortable, so good. You spring forward, not knowing where your heavy paws are taking you but you need to run. Fast. Wind whips past you to tickle your fur and your sharp eyes narrow, zooming between the trees like lightning.

You keep running through the forest, not stopping or even slowing down. You’ve never felt this alive, this free. It’s as if everything falls into place and you’re finally the you that you were meant to be. A surge of power rushes through you, a burst of wild happiness and a sense of freedom all at once.

Suddenly, you sense something. You smell something. It’s a familiar scent, but it’s as if it’s the first time the smell is coursing through your nose. You breathe in deep, and a memory flashes through your mind. You’re suddenly eight years old, on the playground. You’ve fallen and scraped your knee. You see his round face with full cheeks smiling at you, telling you it will be okay, it will only sting for a moment as he puts a bandaid on you.

Now you’re older. A teenager. You’re crying and then there’s a blanket around your shoulders. Your head falls to a chest… his chest and he smells so sweet, so comforting. Like honey. You feel warm. His arms are around you. He’s so close and you’re safe.

The next thing that flashes in your mind is the ice cream he was just telling you about a few days before. Chocolate chip cookie dough. But that’s not what you smell. Suddenly he scoops ice cream from his bowl and give you a bite. It’s a cool vanilla with chocolate syrup. You feel like laughter will burst from within at any moment.

Finally you stop running. The scents become overwhelming, but only because they bring up memories to make you feel cared for, to feel loved and feel at home. Leaves crunching behind you pull your attention away from your thoughts even though the aroma still fills the air around you.

You turn to see fur the color of ash and mountain tops and bright yellow eyes staring at you. The wolf whines at you, cocking its head to one side before pouncing you without warning. You yelp and roll your body beneath him as he playfully nips your neck, knowing it’s no one else but him. No one else but him could make you feel so much peace.

And one second you’re rolling around in the leaves as wolves, the next you’re shifting back into your human form before you can stop yourself. The fur turns into skin, paws into fingers. Your back straightens against the messy leaves and dirt to leave you panting while still naked on the ground. He follows your lead, though you’re sure he has more control over shifting than you do, but it’s only a few seconds before he’s human again. He collapses on the ground next to you, only your heavy breaths can be heard among the whistling of wind between the branches and the chirping birds. You lay there beside him in silence, but you’ve never felt more comfortable.

A few moments pass before you hear him rustling next to you. Turning to look, you see a grin on his lips as he stares at you, and you can’t help but smile in return.

“So…” he begins, dragging the word out and still a bit breathless from running. You giggle again, knowing he wants to know what came over you, what tipped you over the edge from human to wolf. If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure. All you know is one minute you’re trying to get in touch with your emotions, the next you’re lost in daydreams and memories of him. “Are you going to tell me what happened or do I have to bite you again?”

Grinning, you prop yourself up onto your elbows. “I… don’t know, really.” You shrug as if it’s no big deal, but you know he won’t let you get off so easily. “I did what you said. I tried to channel my feelings and…”

“And?” He raises his brows, leaning closer and you can feel his happiness for you radiating off of him.

“And…” You take a deep breath, smile fading, looking into his eyes to make it easier to say the words. “I could only think of you.”

“Me?” He gulps, tearing his gaze away as if he’s trying to make sense of it.

“I thought of the way you made me feel,” you admit to him, voice so low because if you were to speak any louder, he would hear the tremble in the words. “I thought of how I feel for you.”

He can only blink, then turn away from you so he sits up straight, arms resting on his knees. You follow him, sitting beside him even if you’re too scared to meet his eyes in the moment.

“How do you feel about me?” Now his voice is a whisper. Your heart pounds away inside your chest. Warmth builds from the pit of your stomach up to your throat, and you’re the one gulping this time.

“I feel…” Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, but not before you notice him turning to look at you. You keep them closed as you speak the next words. “I feel like... you’re home to me.”

Finally, you look at him to see him looking back at you. You understand what he meant when he explained your scent. You understand what he felt in that moment, and even though it was buried deep down inside of you all this time, you finally feel exactly like him. You feel like you belong. You feel like you’re home when you’re with him.

Just like before, when he leans in, you feel the rush of happiness as the familiar smell of home fills your senses. Yet, he doesn’t stop there, slowly coming closer until his trembling lips meet your own. He kisses you like he’s been waiting so long to feel your skin against his, and you deepen the kiss with a whimper against his lips. He takes hold of you, pulling your body close, and you go to him. The two of you fall into the dirt once again, hands exploring one another, lips kissing lips and then trailing lower. You whimper his name a second before he climbs over you, taking control and you allow him to touch and kiss and do whatever he wants because it all makes sense to you now. You’re home to him because you’re his, and you were always meant to be. He’s yours, and he intends on proving just how much in the moment.

His kisses lower down your body. Your fingers become lost in the strands of his hair. A moan slips from your lips to disappear between the trees as his mouth wanders to your chest, to your breasts, kissing his way farther down. When he reaches your belly button, desire begin to build between your legs. Your thighs part for him as he goes lower, leaving a trail of eager, sloppy kisses along the way until his tongue finds a new way to make you whimper.

He pleasures you with his mouth while you become lost in the moment. You’re his and only his, and you call his name in a shaky voice to remind him of it. Heat swells in your body with his face between your thighs, groaning every time you moan and cry out. The animal in him comes alive as he claims you and makes you feel so, so good. Lost in ecstasy as the world drowns out around you, all you can focus on is his mouth on your flesh, drawing you closer to a release you never knew you needed.

He offers you that release with a firm grip on your hips. A deep, primal growl builds in his chest as you reach cloud nine, feeling you trembling beneath him while he earns every whimper, every moan, every call of his name with a diligent tongue eager to please. You feel so hot once again, yet so relaxed and taken care of. He tends to your body by making you come on his tongue. He claims you with his face buried between your legs and you ride out the pleasure against his mouth until you’re too overwhelmed.

He makes it clear he’s not finished making you his and becoming yours in return. He climbs over your body, settling between your legs so you feel the arousal pressing against you. Your arms wrap around him, pulling his body close as his lips crash into your own. You taste the remnants of bliss as he begins pushing himself into you, and you’re already begging him for more. His motions are desperate, but he doesn’t want to hurt you, he doesn’t want to rush or move too fast. He wants to cherish the moment as he eases himself inside of you, slowly, inch by inch until your head falls back and you’re crying out for more. He kisses you again as he fills you up, and your mind grows numb, feeling so close to him for the first time.

He enters you with ease, groaning at the feeling of your warmth surrounding him, gasping at the way you tighten your walls around his length and how you wrap your legs over his sides to hold him close. As you begin moving your hips, he begins to thrust inside of you, making you tremble all over again. You feel so full and so complete, so warm and safe and perfect in his arms as your wolf claims you. He kisses you tenderly, but his hips become eager. He pumps into you quicker, lost in the moment and the way you feel wrapped around him.

Moans and whimpers, grunts and growls, fill the air. You hold him tight while he pleasures you, so lost in one another that nothing in the world could matter more. He whispers into your ear how good you feel and you can only beg him for more. He takes care of you in a new way that becomes overwhelming, suddenly so full of the emotions you had trouble connecting with before. He brings out the wolf in you while offering pleasure, filling you up, making you come once again as he does the same. Your bodies move as one to claim one another, to make love to your wolf, to feel a new kind of bliss you have never experienced before. You find release in one another as a sweet, hot wave of pleasure takes hold.

As you come down, he keeps you close. He holds your body, he kisses your forehead. That familiar scent returns and you understand everything now. You understand what it means to belong, because now you belong to him. You understand what home feels like, because you found it in him.

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