#I just have to keep going and keep trying. it’s just discouraging and frustrating | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chxrryhansen · 3 months

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2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).

-💎

ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.

rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.

rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.

“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.

“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”

you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”

he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.

“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.

“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”

a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.

rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.

“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.

“cum.”

he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”

your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”

rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.

your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.

“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.

he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”

if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”

#💎anon #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #dark rafe cameron x reader #dark! rafe cameron #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron prompt

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lqveharrington · 1 month

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Nothing Left to Lose | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer have an argument about the exterminations that happen in Hell, and it just so happens your daughter heard you through the crack of the doorway.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Wife!reader

includes: ANGST, couples arguing, charlie basically being the family’s mediator and glue, some fluff, (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i’m on a hazbin streak omg 💁‍♀️

“Lucifer, stop!”

You were in a fight for what seemed like the nth time in a month. It had been exactly 3,500 years since you and Lucifer were cast out of Heaven to rule over the hellborne and sinners. This kept your patience thin the entire month. Especially with Lucifer pushing and pushing for a better way to have sinners saved from exterminations and sending them to Heaven completely broke you.

“Just stop.” You lean against the railing of your balcony, hands gripping on the metal. “Heaven won’t listen to us—“

“They will if we just ask for a meeting.” He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair, growing frustrated at your unwavering discouragement. “We’ve done this before. They listened and—“

“LOOK WHERE THAT GOT US!” You throw your hand up in frustration, eyes flashing crimson for one second. “They cast us away for caring for the human souls on Earth! What are they going to do to us when we send sinners up to Heaven?”

“I don’t know!” Lucifer let his horns poke out, tail whipping violently. “I don’t know, but if we don’t try—“

“Mom?” A quiet voice came through the yelling match you and Lucifer started, making you both turn to the door. “Are you okay?”

You rub your temple before stepping away from the balcony, not sparing a glance at your beloved. “I’m fine, baby. Your dad and I are just talking.” You take her in your arms, running your fingers through her blonde locks.

She looked back at her father, watching him sigh before his horns and tail disappeared. “Is Dad okay?”

“I’m fine, apple pie.” He kissed her forehead, making her giggle at the feeling. “Can you let us have a few more minutes? We’ll come find you when we’re done.”

“Okay.” Charlie gave you both curious looks, not realizing the tense situation she walked in on.

You press a kiss to her temple, “Wait in your room, baby.”

Charlie silently left as you stood from your previous position. You moved back to the balcony, messing with the wedding ring on your finger as the wind blew roughly on your skin.

“My love, we have nothing left to lose if we take this risk and ask for our people to be redeemed instead of letting them die again.” Lucifer took your hands in his, speaking softly this time.

Your crimson and gold eyes meet his, “We risk Charlie, Lucifer. What if they take her away from us?” You shut your eyes, hiding the red sky from your sight. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go up there and face the Heavens when my daughter is hellborne. What if the exterminations keep happening even if they accept your proposal? They might target us—“

“I signed the papers, they know they can’t touch the hellborne or our family.” He squeezed your hands. “Just—“ Lucifer let his head fall on your shoulder. “Let me try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come up with another solution.”

“Luce…” You murmur, blinking back the tears from the fear of losing your family. “I can’t lose you or Charlie.”

“And you won’t!” He cupped your face, frowning at your words. “You will never lose us. I promise, beautiful…” He rubbed your cheek, “I know you hate the Heavens for casting us here. I know you hate being here. But these souls are our people. We have a duty to protect them.”

“Lucifer…” You sigh and hold his hands in yours. “You need to listen to my reasoning. What if the Heavens refuse to do this and make the exterminations worse than they already are? We can’t know what they might do to our people! To our daughter!”

Lucifer removes his hands from you, “Can you just listen to me?” He walks toward the other end of the balcony, leaning against the railing. “This is a situation where we never know what’s going to happen. It might be good, it might make things worse. But we can’t know unless we try.”

You watch him run his fingers through his disheveled hair, knitting your brows at his actions. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He nods slowly, looking up at you. “I can do it?”

You nod, wringing your hands together. “I trust you… If you say we’ll be okay then… You can go through with your plans.”

“Thank you, my love.” He took long strides over to you and scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” You smile and thread your fingers in his hair, “Let’s go find Charlie, darling.”

“Our caring little girl.” He nudged your cheek with his nose. “Who might be as strong-willed as her mother.”

“Hush.” You press a soft kiss to his lips.

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literaticat · 8 months

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I'm at my wit's end. I've spent a decade trying to break through - 10 years with 5 novels coming super close with a variety of big publishers, who rave about my writing, ideas, etc. Feedback has been mostly positive. One even rejected saying "I don't know why we're rejecting this, it's EXACTLY what we're looking for and ticks all our boxes, but we feel compelled to reject it anyway." Is there just a "Do Not Publish" sign on my head? How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

(OP continues...) "Sorry about the rant, Jenn, and I know there's not much you can say as you don't know my specific situation. But it's just maddening. 10+ years of my life! I know everyone faces rejection, but I seem to mostly get positive feedback and so many "close calls" of almost getting a deal - a lot of interest, but then it just peters out. That "compelled to reject anyway" just made me start feeling like I'm just fated to never be published, no matter what? I'm unagented now, starting from scratch..."

OK first of all -- that rejection, if that is literally what they said, is utterly insane. I have to presume (HOPE? PRAY?) that you are paraphrasing, that that is what it *felt* like to you, but that's not LITERALLY what they said??? Because there are certainly things where, on the surface, yes, this is what a publisher is looking for and it "ticks the boxes", but ultimately, it doesn't have that X-factor, je ne sais quois, or whatever -- so I can see a publisher saying something like, "while the writing is admirable and the premise is interesting, ultimately, we weren't compelled enough to make an offer for publication" -- which is ALMOST what you said, but there's a key difference that makes it actually normal and not insane. Because in YOUR version, it sounds like they are under an imperius curse or something, where they don't know what they are doing or why they are doing it, they just have to do it, even though it is against what WOULD be their better judgment if they weren't cursed. And... it's wild to think that a publisher would make a statement like that. (Maybe they were having a very OFF DAY???) -- BUT ANYWAY, on to the crux of your question/rant:

I understand your frustration. If it makes you feel any better (??), you're not alone. I know many -- MANY -- MANY career authors, who spent 10 years honing their craft, trying and failing, getting rejections, getting close-but-no-cigars, etc. I was chatting with a wise (and now famous) author I know, who spent 10 years or so in the query/wrong-agent/rejection/close-call trenches. She told me a theory that I feel pretty sure is right, though I don't have proof per se, it does track with my observations. She said:

Just about everyone who sticks with writing or the arts in general as a career has about a ten-year rough patch. That doesn't mean it takes everyone ten years to get published! (Though it does take LOTS of people 10+ years) -- Some lucky people get their break a lot sooner than that. BUT. Everyone has to pay the piper that ten year fee, either all at once, or in installments. So let's say you sell your book right away and start raking in the accolades etc -- fab! Just know that nobody stays popular and beloved forever, and at some point, the ten year slump is coming for you. Aren't you lucky that you're getting yours out of the way now?

OK, if that didn't work for you, how about this:

How to keep pushing ahead after so long and so much rejection?

You know you don't have to, right?

Like, if writing and seeking traditional publication is making you miserable -- you can stop. In fact, stopping may be a great idea.

I say this not to be discouraging, but rather, encouraging, actually. I encourage you to give yourself permission to prioritize your own mental and emotional well-being.

If you realize you miss writing and can't live without it -- go back to it! But maybe instead of having "publication" as your goal, your goal can be writing for the pure joy of it, without worrying about future queries or would-be agents or anyone else's expectations. What freedom! Embrace that!

Then when you do have a brand-new shiny manuscript, you can decide your next steps. Maybe it's trying again for traditional publishing, and this is the turn around the track that changes everything. (It should be close, if the 10 year theory is correct!)

OR, maybe it's self-publishing. (Lots of people have a lot of success there -- maybe you're one of them!) --

OR, maybe it's just chilling out and writing some more for your own pleasure -- creating art for the sake of creating it, for fun, for self-fulfillment, etc. Like, you know, a normal hobby, that nobody is expecting you to monetize or make into a "gig".

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honnelander · 7 months

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go fish! part 5 snippet (let's try this again)

so after scrapping what i had, i had serious writer's block and a severe lack of motivation... i kinda felt discouraged but everyone was SO sweet to me and gave me so much encouragement, i was (and still am) so touched!! you all are seriously the best and i'm happy to say that i am finally working on part 5 as we speak :))

i don't want to promise anything, but you all have been sooo patient with me, so here's a little under 300 words of go fish! part 5. sometimes, you don't need a lot of words to get a point across... so here's a little taste:

(disclaimer: this work is unfinished, unedited, and can also not make it into the final product (even though i’m very certain it will))

Sanji was getting desperate.

The longer he went without telling you he loved you, that he was completely enamored with every part of your entire soul and being, that your existence gave him a reason to live and keep on breathing, the more he felt himself go absolutely insane.

He felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, sitting in front a mountain of presents but not being able to open them because it ‘wasn’t time to open them yet’, and that’s exactly how he felt with his situation with you: there was nothing more he wanted to do than to tell you he was in love with you, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time yet. He didn’t want to just flat out say ‘I love you’ while you both were doing some rudimentary task or chore, or offhandedly one night while you both were doing the dishes after supper, he wanted something more than that, something special and extravagant.

You were the love of his life, and you deserved everything under the sun and more, so he wanted to make this very intimate and private moment between you two as special as he could, and that required some serious planning and patience on his part.

So, after his conversation with Nami a few days ago, her letting him vent out all of his frustrations and apprehensions he had with her, practicing saying those three special words numerous times so when the moment was right with you, they would just roll off the tongue, and some planning, he was ready to confess his feelings to you.

But something was wrong. Something wasn’t right.

You were avoiding him and he had absolutely no idea why.

#go fish! au #sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader

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laurzzz-left · 1 month

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Robo-Boyfriends AU (My Sona Version) - Effort

Woe word-less comic be upon ye! I think it's very fitting with my sona being mouthless LMAO. I haven't worked on RBAU in a short while so take this thingy before I continue to work on MO again :thumbsup::thumbsup:

Explanation/vent under the cut (it's VERY long, so know you've been warned)

I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending it doesn't affect me at all. I'm tired of not wanting to express genuine frustration on my blog. I've been trying my best to keep my blog and every other platform I have as a place of escape for myself. I want it to only be filled with mostly good and optimistic things. I already get enough crap and more in my private life, I don't want to see reminders of them in places where I want to escape. Which is why I've been pretending to not see the numbers, that I don't feel under appreciated, that I don't vent as much when I want to or when I do I'm quick to delete them.

I know that many artists online go through this and have expressed their frustration on this experience-- where they put in so much effort and time on their works and they barely get any feedback or interactions or when they do get feedback it's often on the works they don't even put that much effort in. I love RBAU and Cloud Nine.. they're my AUs that basically gained the most traction here but the time and effort I gave to making those comics and random pieces of gradient-themed drawings don't even compare to the rendered pieces or the animated works I've made for them.

As much as I appreciate the reblogs and comments on the posts that reached so many people, I often wonder why it's always the works that I didn't put my all into. It makes me feel discouraged... not in continuing to draw or make creative work, but to actually put in more effort. But if I'd do that--stop putting in more effort-- then I would only make myself even more miserable as I don't like stagnation. I hate stagnation. I hate getting bored of the things that mean so much to me. Sharing my art and improving on it means too much to me.

But it's weird because I tend to observe the interactions with other blogs. They look to put in so much effort and make such beautiful rendered pieces that I adore and yet they are appreciated as deserved. While there are artists who make "shitposts" (their words) who also gain so much traction and appreciation. This observation makes the voices in my brain start correlating the quality of my work to the interactions. If I'm being completely transparent, I get these thoughts a lot. But I also don't believe them. I don't want to believe them.

Before anyone starts saying "ohhh you shouldn't attach your appreciation of your work from external factors" etc etc-- I KNOW. I am FULLY aware. I'm completely aware and have rationalized this situation over and over. That this is just how the internet goes. That these are factors I don't have control over. That my work is gold and it doesn't have to be determined as such by numbers. That someday the people who appreciate my works will find me. I. Know.

Still, knowing these things doesn't make the feelings disappear. It's like I want to be mad, and cry at the same time but also understand that I just can't really do anything about this but let it be. It's as if the more I care about a project, the less likely people will. I don't want to pretend like I don't care about a project just for it to be appreciated. But I also don't want to feel as if I'm not getting as much appreciation or attention that I think my work deserves.

I've been experimenting with my works and how I post them here on Tumblr and on YT since last year. The ones that are shitposts are seriously what gets more attention AHAHAHA I am laughing with frustration. Look, I love making memes and poking fun with characters as much as the next viewer and artist but by god. I can't just keep churning out funny haha low substance stuff in exchange for interactions. That's not the kind of artist that I am. I like making things that has lore; that has depth to them. Like how I tend to make lore heavy AUs right after getting my silly, lighthearted works blow up just to remind myself that the relationship I have with my works will not grow if I keep chasing after the interactions, the numbers by prioritizing quantity over quality.

Or maybe people just don't like my ideas? I guess that's a possibility too. Maybe my ideas just don't resonate with people enough. It's not "consumable" enough. Or maybe they don't like my art/writing/animation style. Yet more factors that's out of my control. But I also get told that people like my art, my writings, my animations. And they mean so, so much to me. But it just doesn't add up sometimes, y'know? If people like my work and stick around because they like my art no matter the fandom then why don't I see it? Thoughts like these make me feel so ungrateful actually.

I'm sure there are many people who look up to me as an artist and think how "popular" I am. I've been told this so many times. And yet, I don't feel either of those as strongly. Hell, even as I type this long vent out, I feel like people will not even care. Or worse. Perhaps they may think I'm focusing on the wrong things or think I'm being insecure and jealous of other people's well-deserved appreciation from others.

For the record, I am not. I think every single (actual, not AI) artists put in so much effort and love to their own works most of the time and if they get appreciation for it then I'm sure as hell that they've been seeking for it too and now that they're getting it and it's there then they should bask in it and rejoice. They really should.

Sigh. This is getting far too long. I'll stop here. I hope my words and my thoughts came out clearly. I'm writing this out late at night. Don't worry, I'll still be putting in the effort I've been putting in lately. I'm still going to work on MO, and give my best to make Assassin Eclipse's design to be as on par with Assassins Sun and Moon. I'm still going to write and continue the lore in the fic. I'm still going to animate the lore-heavy Welcome Home animation I've been working on slowly day by day. I just wanted to let this all out. Venting it to my friends just seem to not be enough. I gotta express it where people can see it. I think this is just my last straw too. I've been holding out for so long and 2024 really hasn't been that kind to me lately that I just can't anymore.

Anyway, the next post will be much lighter, I promise.

#sorry i focused too much on my dca related works but this also applies to all the other fandom stuff ive created on here and on YT #oh also #thank you and shout out to xit #i was having doubts on posting this before i sleep tonight #but her recent answered ask unintentionally gave me courage #hey xit! if you see this i think youre cool #robo-boyfriends au #but with my sona instead of y/n #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #laursdraws #cw vent

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onceuponanotherassumption · 5 months

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The matters of the heart are complicated (Jason x Reader)

Masterlist

“Stop ignoring me.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“You aren’t even looking at me, Jason.”

And as if to dismiss her point, Jason stops fiddling with his phone to gaze at her with a blank look on his face. It takes (y/n) aback at the uncharacteristic way he was acting but she doesn’t let that discourage her. Midway through their relationship, she learned that it was best to talk out their problems as soon as possible.

“Please stop doing that.”

“I’m not even doing anything,” (y/n) grits her teeth in frustration before deciding to finally do something. She takes a seat on the couch next to Jason, swiping his phone away from him and pocketing it. That surely gains his attention.

“(y/n)...give me my phone back.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re mad.”

“I’m not—“

“Yes you are, ever since we left the gala you’ve been oddly quiet.” She frowns, watching for a break in Jason’s expression but he still remains stoic. “Did I do something to make you mad? Is that it?”

“It’s nothing important, now give me back my phone.”

“It is important if you’re acting like this. Tell me what I did wrong.”

“Look, I’m not in the mood to talk about this right now. Stop interrogating me already.”

“Then stop lying to me. What went wrong? You were doing fine at the gala then all of a sudden you tell me you want to go home already even though Bruce told us not to—“

“You know what? Fine, keep my phone. I’m heading home.”

“W-What? You’re just going to leave...?”

Jason doesn’t answer back, and instead grabs his keys from the coffee table before heading to the direction of the front door. Before he could get a hand on the knob, (y/n) moves in front of him, blocking him from leaving the apartment.

“You’re not allowed to leave, not until you tell me why you’re acting like this.”

“Fucking—you wanna know why?! That asshole friend of yours kept feeling you up and you didn’t even give a damn!”

“What?” A quizzical look appears on (y/n)’s face, trying to recall what happened hours ago. Her friend was naturally clingy, but she knew the way he acted in her presence was within his best interests. “Jason, he’s been a long time friend of mine—“

“Well he certainly doesn’t see you as one! Not with that hand of his constantly squeezing your hip.” Jason grits out. “I love you but there’s only so little patience I have to see my girlfriend getting fondled right in front of me.”

(y/n) was just about to refute his accusation but quickly stops herself. What happened in the gala was still fresh, and the memory of her friend’s arm around her waist plays out in her mind. She remembered the subtle feeling of his hand slipping lower for a few seconds before sliding up again, but she was too engaged in their conversation to reprimand him.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t realise that was happening, if I did...”

“No, it’s fine. I know that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you, I know you didn’t intentionally let that happen.” He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, trudging back to the couch. (y/n) kept quiet this time, preferring to stare at the floor instead of meeting his gaze.

“Hey, hey, none of that. Look at me.” Jason gently pulls her over to sit next to him.

“I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow about this.” She says with finality, a determined look in her eyes. “Promise me one thing though?”

“Anything.”

“Let’s do a better job with the communication thing, hmm? Don’t shut me out...please.”

“I promise to be more transparent with you.” Jason tucks a stray hair behind her ear, eyes locked with (y/n) with a look that made a pleasant warmth bloom inside her. “I won’t shut you out.”

#me coming back after how many years with a short one #i’m sorry #jason todd x reader #reader insert #jason todd #dc #red hood x reader

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spellbooking · 19 days

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I can't believe I have to bring this up again, I'm sorry if this isn't anyone's cup of tea so please ignore this if you see fit. But the Baldur's Gate 3 companions are supposed to be seen as pansexual. It's outrageous how sidelined I feel as a gay man who exclusively ships male Tavs with male companions, ESPECIALLY Gale and Halsin, who are explicitly pansexual companions. I will never dictate how people write fanfics or make their tavs or anything. But seeing the blatant erasure of these companions pansexuality is maddening.

I will always use my blog as a way to advocate equality, love, sexuality, freedom of expression, etc etc. My content IS very queer based so of course not everyone can resonate with it, but it can still be supported. It is frustrating to see people talk about Halsin, Gale, Wyll, etc as exclusively heterosexual. Why do we have to gender talking to Halsin about baking? Why do we have to gender Gale talking about BOOKS? As another blog has said: I am not trying to police how people choose to enjoy the game or interact with the fandom. "If you want to read, reblog, and create content with Gale x one gender exclusively, then go ahead. Just keep in mind that he is not heterosexual. Especially when making posts about how he treats a partner, his approach to sex etc. Or when writing about him in general" to quote @dreamingofthewild. This goes for all companions.

These companions like all genders. As someone who HAS a pansexual partner, it is so so discouraging. I'm starting to see more and more stuff indicating that these companions prefer a certain gender EXCLUSIVELY. As inclusive as this game is, this is just so discouraging.

This is meant to start healthier discussions and to be mindful of the fandom as a whole. Support queer artists, queer art, queer content, queer fanfics, etc. between companions and same sex relationships. These companions can be in a relationship with a tav of the opposite gender and still be pansexual, but if we are making content and writing tidbits that INDICATE they PREFER a certain gender, this is where the problem lies.

#tay.txt #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #fandom critical #gale of waterdeep #halsin silverbough #gale dekarios #etc etc

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meanbossart · 3 months

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omg i loved that insight into some of drow's most important relationships it was so juicy...now...i gotta know what orin thought of this guy. we get some idea based off the game and other asks but what did orin really think of drow? especially when he first arrived at the temple it must have been something to be told this feral bastard is another of Bhaal's chosen. when do you think she decided to betray him?

GLAD YOU ENJOYED THE READING I love love Love getting into the nitty gritty of personal relationships so thank god some of you guys also like hearing about it LOL

But boy! That's a difficult one. Orin is a very mysterious character to me, we get a fair bit about her life and a vague idea of her relationship with you, but it's always from a second-hand source - the woman herself seems so stripped of humanity that it's difficult to imagine her doing trivial things like going to sleep at night or eating lunch - let alone how she felt about the people around her.

And there's an allure to that that I'm hesitant to try and demystify; not to mention how it itself was a source of frustration to DU drow. While its not like he ever desired to have a sit down and talk about their feelings together as a bhaalspawn, he did want to be let in, whatever that meant - and Orin never ever allowed that, though she did let him get close enough to keep trying.

I do like to believe they were both much less brazen when they met as young adults, DU drow being the shellshocked looking freak who barely knew how to carry out human interaction that he was, and Orin being a lot more explicitly reliant on Sarevok's approval and guidance to exist in the temple. With this, I think there would have been room to some insecurity - if there's another bhaalspawn, her need and effectiveness would come into far more scrutiny than it already did, after all. She would have probably disliked and avoided DU drow not on the basis of his appearance or past, but just because of this threat that he represented to her alone.

And while they inevitably grew close in a very weird way, that very first impression would have planted this seed of resentment in her which would eventually result in the betrayal; but it definitely wasn't the only thing that led to it.

Orin would have been all too aware that DU drow wanted her as more than a sister or a cohort; he was INCREDIBLY unsubtle and would have made attempts to escalate their relationship at least a few times. Because of my theory that Sarevok wanted them to breed together, this behavior was never discouraged, and while I highly doubt it was ever explicitly and openly discussed, I do think Sarevok would have found ways to imply to her that he would like to see the line continue through them.

Obviously Orin never reciprocated DU drow's feelings or desires, but she did enjoy toying with him - while she probably did love him as family, I don't have to spell out to you how weird a situation this is and how it might lead to a lot of bitterness on her end. I don't know if she "led him on" out of malice, out of a desire to feel in control of the situation, or just because she enjoyed the mind games, but these instances of teasing and holding things over DU drow's head only came after many blunt attempts at shooting him down, and looked very different from any sincere displays of affection they may have had as "siblings". Whenever DU drow wanted to push her boundaries, it would be as if a switch flipped and their dynamic ever so slightly changed - and she met in kind. This would usually reach a peak where it broke out in violence, and always ended with them beaten, bleeding, but laughing. And then it would never be spoken about again.

So, with this growing resentment, plus Sarevok's growing favoritism towards DU drow and his seeming desire to see them mate, PLUS Orin's very real ambition to pursue Bhaal's plan and gain some recognition of her own, she would have eventually decided that she didn't want want DU drow around anymore. What feelings precisely led to this decision I do not know, but whatever they were they had been festering for a very long time.

#ask #du drow #orin the red

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bokettochild · 2 months

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Febuwhump Day 21 - Unresponsive

@kuroro-uwu Okay, I know I am LATE, but I did write it! I hope this suits your fancy!

Wordcount: 6,697

Rating: General

Summary: Minish Four and Fairy Hyrule go on a mini-expedition to seek out information. One minute, all is well, and the next- well, Four's not sure WHAT happened, but now he's got a passed out fairy on his hands and no clue what caused it.

(No warnings, this is all pure fluff)

They needed information.

It really was as simple as that. They’ve been trying to learn anything they can about what’s happening to the worlds around them, but hylians are so often ignorant and their group is anything but subtle, so getting it without causing a stir has become something of an issue for the traveling heroes.

It’s the weapons and armor, Legend tells them with a huff, and he’s not exactly wrong either.

People do tend to become more wary when they see soldiers around in the country.

He’d noticed it before, back when he hadn’t yet met the others. Carrying a sword put people on edge. An axe, a spear, or even a bow, out in the country, can be excused as a hunting tool or something to do with your trade. A sword though, a sword means that you are, undeniably, a fighter, and fighters don’t tend to go about armed unless there's danger around to be fought. So, correlation of swords to nearby danger makes people wary, and their group, all armed with swords, and many of them being intimidating looking persons, only further sets people ill at ease.

Getting concrete answers from people who are questioning your intentions all the while isn’t easy, and by now, their group has sort of given up. Or rather, almost all of the others have; Four still has an ace up his sleeve.

“I may have something I can try.” He states as the rest seem just about ready to give up for the day.

Eyes turn to fix on him, various expressions of discouragement, frustration, disbelief, and exhaustion coloring the different shades of blue. It’s Legend that speaks though. “If it involves pretending to be a child, keep me out of it.”

Twilight coughs into his fist, but his dark eyes sparkle. Simultaneously, Warriors rubs at his own brows, the captain following up their scholar’s words with his own. “What’s the idea, smithy? And please, do not say it requires-”

“It’s a me thing,” he assures them. “You guys being around actually won’t work.”

“No one is going off alone,” Time states, just at the same time as Warriors says: “What did we say about leaving the group behind?” Both men shoot glances at each other after, but then Four’s fixed with both stares, one tired and one firm, and neither wavering as he sighs.

“It involves magic, and it won’t work with a second person.”

Wild stares, pointed, but Twilight frowns. “S it what I think it is?”

Abruptly, he remembers that Twilight does, in fact, know, and has known about this as long as he’s known the truth about the wolf. They hadn’t talked about it since, and he’s not exactly employed the magic since then, but Twilight had seen it all the same. “Yeah,” he nods, ignoring the confused looks from the others, “that thing.”

“More secrets,” the captain sighs, “excellent.”

A few eyes turn to the soldier, annoyed, but they can’t blame him. Four can’t either. It’s been a bit rough dancing around the new things falling on their heads when their brothers deem it the time to drop new knowledge out of nowhere. Even if he did know about the wolf, there’s still knowledge he hadn’t had about that one.

“I’ll go with the smithy,” their rancher announces, turning to their leader.

Time’s brows raise. “You have similar magic?”

“Naw, but I can keep watch for him, an’ guard his back.”

“No going off alone,” Warriors repeats, again, this time from behind a hand that’s scrubbing at his brows. “How may times must I say it?”

But Twilight can’t come with, and neither can the others. No one else can because no one else can shrink down to the size of a minish!

If there’s anyone who will know what's going on across the kingdom at any given time, it’s always the little people. He knows they can give him answers even if no hylian will, but he’s not too eager to explain that. The other heroes might not even know about the minish, and if they do, the doubt on whether or not he should be able to see them still will linger or make them question his skill like they do with the sailor. Neither option is something he’s keen on.

“I’ll go with,” and he doesn’t expect the traveler to speak up, but the other lad does, stepping forwards with an awkward half smile. “I’m decent with magic, so maybe I can replicate whatever you’re planning to do.”

Given the choice between no answers and letting Hyrule in on it, he supposes the traveler is the better of the two options. The other lad is cheeky at times, but he’s capable, and trustworthy. Besides that, he’s kept so much secret about his own magic, to the point where they still have no clue about all of it. Surely, he can also keep Four’s secret as well, right?

“Fine,” he nods to their curly haired companion before turning to their leader, expectant.

Time sighs, glancing briefly at the captain, but then nods. “Be back at camp by dark.”

“Understood.”

The good thing about working with Hyrule is that he’s good at following directions, and he never asks unnecessary questions. It’s clear he’s thinking them, of course, but he doesn’t talk too much, and he doesn’t push things with Four, not ever. It’s a bit of a welcome change of pace after having the heroes all up each others’ tails about so many things.

They wander back through the village for a short while and into the inn and bar combo they’d been to with the rest. He knows the other two probably want to know what he hopes to achieve in here, even Twilight who knows his arsenal probably isn’t sure how it would be useful, but that’s not his main focus.

They can ask their questions later. Right now, we need that portal.

Where was it again, Vio?

Left corner, floor level. Looks like a mouse hole.

Well, it sort of is. Red snorts softly. It’s a minish hole.

Very funny. Blue deadpans back. If he had his own eyes, he’d be rolling them, but all of Four knows it wouldn’t be in any real ire. That’s just how their more abrasive aspect is.

Twilight and Hyrule are watching as he moves down to the corner. The rest of the folks within the inn don’t seem to even notice the trio, too busy with their own business. Those that do are carefully avoiding eye contact or even being caught staring, wary less they draw attention to themselves. It’s kind of sad, honestly, but Four doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

Ezlo’s spell plays across his lips with the ease of a thousand speakings, and in seconds he’s down to his other normal size.

Twilight grins down at him.

Hyrule gapes for a moment. “Is this what you were talking about?” He asks, as though it’s not rather painfully obvious. Before Four can answer though, the traveler’s face twists up into a grin, eyes sparking. “Alright, I- I can work with this.”

It’s his own turn to gape as the traveler himself mutters a few words, and in a brief cloud of magic, the young man is gone, replaced instead by the shimmering, hovering light of a fairy.

Four stares. Twilight does as well.

The ball of light laughs. “You said it yourself, we’re all sitting on something, smithy.”

“Ordonia’s kids,” the rancher murmurs softly, “’fore we know it everyone will out ‘emselves as a shifter of some sort.” Neither of the other two have any knowledge of how true that rings, but regardless, they don’t exactly have any grounds to deny it either, considering it seems to be true of their little trio at least.

Finally reclaiming control over speech, Four turns his face upwards to stare at his flying brother. Inside his head, Red is exclaiming in delight over the flight, Blue marveling at the wings, and Green ecstatic at the presence of a fellow shifter to match Four’s size, but outside his head, he has to focus. “This hole here should lead to a community of people more on the magical side.” he nods to the gap in the wall, starting a bit when the fairy’s light flickers and zips down to be level with him.

It’s definitely Hyrule, although the change from Hylian to fairy is more than just a shift in size. He’s not sure which set of eyes to focus on or how to react to other definitely not hylian features displayed beside familiar ones, but Vio somehow wrests enough control to keep his face straight and his jaw in place.

“It might take a bit, but the gossip vine is strong with these folks. They should have what we want to know.”

“Excellent,” Hyrule trills, voice more melodic, but pleasantly so. It has the smithy’s ears flicking forwards to catch it better, the warm fairy magic settling his own.

He glances up to Twilight, still normal sized and crouched in the corner, practically looming over them. “We’ll be back before dark. Just wait here, okay?”

A thumbs up is their answer, and the rancher stands, hailing a server in the barroom and claiming the table closest to their future exit as the two smaller heroes- and by now they are much smaller- pop through the hole in the wall to move along to their destination.

Minish passages are nothing new to Four, but Hyrule keeps gasping in surprise and delight as he looks about the lever and pulley systems between one part of the network and another. It has the smithy smiling to himself, and while it’s not his own work, he does take pride in the efforts of his little friends, and their skill, which he’s sure to share with the only other hylian (sort of hylian?) to get to see it firsthand.

“Inns like this are hotspots for minish too, just like people,” he explains to his wide-eyed companion. “They catch rides on wagons or in people’s bags sometimes, and, just like us, they need a place to stay when they tire.” He pads along carefully to the lift made from an old cup and some twine, climbing up into it and almost reaching out to offer a hand to the traveler, only to catch himself when he remembers the other has wings. “A big place like this is sure to house practically a city of minish, so it might take some time, but we’ll have lots of options when it comes to asking around for information.”

The traveler nods, gaze flicking to the little lever just inches from the smithy’s tiny paw. The signal is clear.

Four pushes the lever, and the lift starts its ascent, the fairy flying up behind him even as they watch another such lift lower, granting Hyrule his first sight of a real minish. The traveler’s catching breath and little gasp makes him smile, but he’s careful to warn the other the moment the other lift is out of sight. “Remember not to call anyone cute, okay? If anything, be prepared for them to call you that. They're not very used to fairies.”

“Understood,” the traveler’s voice is distant as he looks around, words almost an afterthought as he seemingly takes in the whole of the new world he’s discovering.

He won’t be much help, will he?

He’s here so we’re not alone, Green sighs, although there’s no lack of fondness in his tone, He doesn’t need to help us, just be here so Time and Warriors won’t get upset.

He won’t be able to understand the minish anyway, the more sedate aspect reminds the others, he’s never eaten a jabber nut.

Right.

Perhaps he should have remembered that earlier, but he wasn’t exactly planning on taking Hyrule this far along when he’d agreed to keep the traveler with him. If anything, he’d expected the other to wait with Twilight while he took care of the reconnaissance. Still, it should be alright, Hyrule seems content to stare about at the thrumming new world he’s witness too, and he lets Four take the lead as the smithy climbs out of the lift and starts towards the minish puttering about.

Greetings rise here and there and everywhere, although no one seems to recognize him. If anything, that proves they’re not in his era, so even the small things mean something (as a small thing himself, the thought makes him laugh). Still, he guides the way, Hyrule fluttering after him and attracting many a startled stare. In the long run, he thinks Hyrule’s presence works to his favor, because while a minish stopping by at an inn and wandering about a new place is hardly anything to look twice at, a minish with a fairy trailing after him garners much attention, and before they know it, a very elderly looking member of the community approaches. The staff in his paw marks him as an Elder, and while the traveler doesn’t know that, he still bows his head politely at the sight of long flowing whiskers.

“Greetings, strangers.” The elder smiles.

Four bows, politely. Hyrule cannot, not while flying, but he thinks the respectful bob of the head the traveler offered will be enough. Minish are polite, but they aren’t fussy about others needing to be so. Well, those who aren’t Ezlo. “Greetings, elder.”

“Greetings, elder.” Hyrule mimics, words a soft chime that echos off the interior of the inn’s walls.

The elder smiles again, thanking them for their kind welcome. “Forgive my asking, but what is it that brings two youngsters like yourselves here?”

“We seek knowledge of the world outside.” Four answers, because obviously Hyrule can’t. “We are travelers through time, and this era is new to us.”

“Ah.”

“We have hylian companions who need knowledge in order to travel safely, so we hoped to come here and inquire what there is to be known of the world outside.”

His explanation is met with some surprised twitching of noses and flicking of ears, little murmurs all around them, excitedly twitching tails flicking all sorts of colors from the many gathered minish peoples, but he pays them little mind, although Hyrule stares about in awe. The elder welcomes them though to speak to any they would like. “I have not been in the outside world for some time now, but we have many travelers, like yourselves. Please, ask all you would like. I hope we are of aid to you young heroes.”

It’s only when he’s watching the elder’s tail disappear into the crowd again that he realizes at all that they should not have been recognized as heroes. Then again, Minish Elder’s are proficient in magic most times, and maybe he’d sensed it. At any rate, the title seems to spark excitement among those gathered around the two heroes, and it’s no trouble at all to find who he should speak to. In fact, it’s more a matter of them trying to speak to him all at once!

Hyrule hovers at his shoulder as he asks questions and talks. Well, he does at first, but after a few minutes, the fae drifts away, looking around curiously, soft chiming voice echoing back to Four here and again from different parts of the space claimed by magic.

He’s able to learn there’s no hero known about in this era, and that the last one that anyone remembers was a little boy who was close to the fairies. Considering the fondness all his brothers have for all creatures magical, it’s not a very specifical descriptor, but it’s something at least. Maybe one of the others will be able to pinpoint who it is talking about, be it themselves or someone else they’ve heard of. He does learn though, that the world isn’t in the best of shapes. Dark magic is common, a side effect of Ganon’s power, despite the fact that the monster is sealed away.

That, he decides to ask about.

Most of the minish don’t have answers, saying they avoid it, saying they only heard it from someone else, but pressing them leads him on a bit of a goosechase all over the building, looking for this person who knows more and that one who does as well.

Like hylians, minish have many a trade, and a place like this is basically their equivalent to a trade city, even if the hylian town around it is rather small. Packed up in one building, but spread across rooms, attic spaces, the cellar, the larder, and even the bar itself, he finds himself hunting down leads and doing a few favors in order to get what he needs to know. He's halfway through delivering some mushrooms in exchange for more details on the dark magic that apparently lies around the world, when Hyrule’s soft glow returns to his side again.

“Four, I think we need to head back.”

He sighs. “I know, but I’ve got a lead.”

“We could come back tomorrow?”

A shake of the head as he adjusts his hold on the mushroom; it’s huge in comparison to himself. “No, apparently they’re leaving at dawn with the coach that stops here.”

Hyrule’s feet touch the ground, wings stilling. Honestly, he thought fairies flew everywhere, but he supposes that a shapeshifter might use various methods. “Four, we have to go back.”

“I’m this close to getting answers,” he drops his shroom to pinch two claws close together. “Just a bit longer, okay? Time will understand.”

He’s not sure what time it is, but the noise of patrons in the inn does carry slightly past the magic of the minish to sound in his ears. Inns and bars are always noisy, especially when combined, but while he’s not their old man, his inner clock isn’t bad either. They have time before sunset, and if they didn’t, he wouldn’t have risked trying this at all.

“Come on,” he urges. “Help me with this shroom. The sooner I deliver it, the sooner this guy will tell me what I need to know.”

Hyrule’s face is pinched, and briefly it registers that something isn’t quite right about it, but it’s hard to tell with changed features and maybe it’s just worry from the traveler. He dismisses it, promising both Hyrule and himself that they’ll only take a very little bit longer.

They deliver the shroom, but in true runabout fashion, the only knowledge he gets from the minish in question is a few wary words that had been heard from someone else entirely, and he’s sent darting across the inn again to try and find that other minish before they too decide to leave. It’s the frustrating thing about communities like this, rather than the ones he finds in the countryside. Minish who make their homes in the forest, the grass, or even up in the mountains and quarries, they all keep to their own space. Traveling minish, those in small towns and hylian communities, are often unpredictable from one day to the next, and there’s no telling when or where you’ll have a chance to see them.

Hyrule tries asking again, telling him that they really need to get going, but Four brushes him off. One or two minutes more. Just a bit. He’s almost done, he promises!

The traveler’s feet are dragging a bit as he follows the smith, and his wings have long since folded against his back. It’s clear he’s tired, and Four is too, but they’ve only got so many chances to learn what they need to know, and passing this up would be foolish. It would make this whole trip into the world of the minish utterly pointless!

Finally, though, he’s able to find someone who doesn’t send him on an errand, who doesn’t ask for anything he doesn’t already have and who is both willing and capable of answering his questions. Near immediately, Four dugs a notebook from his bag and starts asking. How strong is this dark magic? Has it affected any monsters? Have monsters been a prominent problem recently? Are they acting oddly? Does the magic have any effects on anything else?

The minish, who in an odd way reminds him of Time; a prominent scar running over one eye and with a shredded ear on the same side, answers his questions. The magic effects the water and the land, and monsters are more abundant now than they had been years ago. They get worse every year, and they are stronger than the elders say they used to be. None of it lines up with the supposed infection of the monsters in other eras, but Four is not ruling it out as a possible source or contributor. He keeps asking, getting more details, channeling his more pragmatic self, but also the tactful part. He needs to think of this as a traveler, a fighter, and a survivor. In a way, he tries asking what Legend or Warriors or Twilight might ask. What would Wild want to know? What would Time need answers too? He’s going to be the one passing on this information to them after all, so he needs to be ready for the inevitable questions they’re going to have.

He sort of forgets that Hyrule is still waiting for him. Really, the only reason he remembers at all is because his informant tells him that it’s getting late, and she can’t think anymore. “That should cover everything anyway, I hope it helps.”

He bows his head, still sitting, so he can’t offer a proper bow, even though he wants to. “Of course. Thank you so much for your help.”

She waves a farewell to him before heading off to wherever it is that she’s going to rest for the night. He’s seen beds around, but didn’t ask, and never does. Honestly, he should be heading back, because bed sounds fantastic right about now! He turns, stuffing his notebook back in his bag, only to stop short when he sees the traveler.

Hyrule looks like shit.

The fairy is slumped over, glow almost gone and while there’s no apparent injury, no sign of what on earth would cause him to look so, he looks a bit like death! The smith drops down beside his friend, catching the fae’s face in his hands and patting freckled cheeks cautiously. “Hyurle? Hey! Hey, I’m done. We can go back now.”

There’s no answer.

Despite knowing Hyrule was fine before, knowing the minish would never harm him, probably couldn’t without special magic, he still gives the other a once over. There are no visible injuries, nor blood. His eyes, when pried open with claws that struggle so hard not to slip, don’t show signs of being concussed. For all intents and purposes, Hyrule isn’t hurt, but his skin is pale, the fairy’s glow is absent, and he slumps almost lifelessly against the walls.

We need help. Green sighs, desperately trying to balance his thoughts.

Blue’s voice is low, straining. The elder?

Is he going to be okay?

Hush Red, and Blue, the elder can’t do anything for a fairy. Minish magic is too different.

Well, we could try at least!

Guys, please. No fighting. We need to focus on Hyrule.

Blue seethes, but doesn’t argue, something he’s been doing much better with as of late. Vio on the other hand, does continue his stance. We should take him back to Twilight. Maybe he can help.

But Twi doesn’t like magic!

But he is Time’s kid, and he loves fairies. Maybe he knows something about them that we don’t. Come on.

The logic of his logical facet wins over the rest of him, and for lack of a better course of action, the minish hero hefts his fairy brother up into his arms. Hyrule’s still bigger than him like this, but he’s also always been very light, and the smith is strong. Gathering his brother up onto his back, careful not to crush iridescent wings, he heads back for the lift.

Catching Twilight’s attention is hard, once they’re back out in the world of Hylians. His intent originally had been to shift back with a murmur, but he doesn't know how to trigger the change for Hyrule, and without a glow to aid him, he’s not sure how quickly he’d be able to find the traveler again after the shift to his normal size, which always leaves him just a bit disoriented. That, and if it turns out Hyrule needs help of the more hands-on sort, it’s more practical to stay on the same scale as the traveler in order to give it.

Luckily for him, and the traveler, he has lots of experience in trying to make himself heard, and while the sound of a screaming voice would definitely draw unwanted attention, there is a sound he knows will, without fail, catch the rancher’s attention without scaring other people. Four sucks in a breath, and with all the ability he’s got in him, he pushes it out in a sharp little ‘meow’.

Twilight’s ears prick up immediately, the rancher lowering the drink he was holding to scan the area around him, eyes glittering.

Four tries again, a soft ‘mew’ that takes every bit of breath he has but has bright blue eyes fixing on him in seconds.

Twilight chuffs, looking slightly disappointed, but also relieved. Well, until his eyes land on the traveler, and then the man is sliding from his chair to crouch, facing the wall and shielding the two small heroes from sight. “What happened?” he asks, offering a hand laid flat on the ground before them.

Typically speaking, Four does not care to be picked up, especially like this, but for the traveler’s sake, he allows it. Stepping onto the rough pads of the rancher’s fingers is a bit of a struggle with his hands supporting the fae slumped over his back, nd after failing twice he gives up. Instead, he turns and carefully lets his brother slip down into Twilight’s hand first, crawling after him once he’s got use of his hands again.

The rancher waits until they’re both stable, Four holding Hyrule with one hand and fisting a tiny fold of his glove with the other, before he stands again, carefully steady as he heads back to his table. “Is he okay?”

Four shakes his head. “I don’t know. He’s not injured, and I don’t think he’s concussed, but he just-” his gaze drops down to the freckled face cradled in his lap, “-I turned around and he wasn’t moving anymore.” Breathing, yes, softly and slowly, almost too slowly, but it was steady, and considering he doesn’t know how fairy bodies work, maybe that was how it was meant to be. He’s not sure, and he hates not knowing, but as long as Hyrule is still breathing, things will be okay. Goddesses, he hopes he’ll be okay!

Glancing up at the rancher, he sees furrowed brows and a harsh frown. It’s not angry, not fierce, but guilt plummets through him all the same as he watches it.

There’s silence for a spell, just blue eyes staring down at him as he sits in the rancher’s hand, Hyrule pulled into his lap, wings still behind him without so much as the slightest of twitches. The traveler’s breath is shallow but steady as it puffs against his collar. And then Twilight speaks. “Did he maybe touch something weird?”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t watching him, but this Hyrule, not Wild.” Hyrule doesn’t touch unknown things, not without taking every precaution to ensure they’re not dangerous. Besides, minish don’t tend to keep anything dangerous around, and if they do, it’s well hidden and out of sight. Even lacking experience with other living beings, Hyrule isn’t the sort of person to go poking around other people’s possessions in plain sight. No, he’d wait until no one was around to see or stop him, and then he’d get into their stuff.

The rancher’s frown deepens, but then midnight blue eyes are falling on Four again, something almost apologetic in their depths. “Look. I don’t got a clue, smith, but we gotta get him help.” The unspoken rings in the air between them: ‘we need to talk to someone else who knows about this stuff, and that means telling them your secret’.

He sighs, nodding. “Time seems to know the most about fairies.”

The rancher’s head jerks in a sharp nod, rupees hitting the table as the man pays for his drink and then he’s whisking them out the door and back towards camp.

It feels like it takes forever for Twilight to return with Time.

Rather than announce their presence, and thus secrets, to the whole chain, he’d carefully settled the two tiny heroes on an old tree stump at Four’s instruction. Vaguely, he thinks it might be a minish portal, or close to one, but that’s something to worry about later. For now, he’s looking after Hyrule as best he can in a cave made from the rancher’s pelt, erected for their protection against any predators while the other fetches their leader under the premise of Hyrule and Four needing to talk with him. The rest will worry, and have questions, but they’ll (probably) respect the privacy of the other two, if only as long as they’re gone. Returning to camp will, no doubt, come with questions, but right now, helping Hyrule is what matters most. He’ll handle anything that comes after, as long as the traveler will be okay.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into brown curls, not for the first time since Twilight left, “just hang in there, traveler, okay? Time will be here soon, and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

He dutifully ignores how dark hair darkens further in the fading light of twilight. How the hand that's fallen to brush his leg has claws at the fingers, that as the shadows grow longer, he could almost pretend he’s holding somebody else. No, he focuses on Hyrule and that it is, in fact, Hyrule he’s clutching ahold of under the fur, waiting for their leader to come to them.

Time’s puffing breath announces his presence, alongside heavy feet to match the easy lope of their rancher. The way that he heaves for breath, he really does sound like an old man, but when the fur is moved aside and Four can see their leader’s face, he rethinks that. Time looks worried, terribly worried, and the heavy breathing is probably from a slight panic rather than anything else. Hylia above, what did Twilight tell him?

“What happened?” Time demands, even as Four shivers slightly at the return of the breeze the fur had blocked off.

He sighs, tired, worried, and tired of being worried. “Hyrule collapsed. I don’t know why, but he’s not waking up no matter what I do.”

The blue arrow painted between their leader’s brows distorts as his face pinches up, the man dropping to a knee with surprising grace in order to be better level with the two shrunken heroes. “Is he injured?”

Twilight shakes his head. “Four already checked.”

A hand, slightly smaller than Twilight’s own, but somehow more callused, is extended towards them. Even that motion is more graceful from their old man than from the rancher, and Four is surprised by the lack of panic having it settle before him causes. “Let me look at him?”

It’s work to climb up again, shifting Hyrule with all the care he can before depositing him in the old man’s palm, but he does it. Time doesn’t say anything as the man pulls in their precious cargo a bit closer, staring down with his good eye and prodding gently at the fallen form of the traveler.

Behind him on the stump, Four feels Twilight settle, blocking off the breeze and providing a wall of warmth that assures nothing else will appear behind him. “Well?”

“Shh.” Time breathes, but it’s not harsh. His gaze is incredibly gentle in fact, and as he handles the tiny form in his hand something impossibly warm lights his blue eye beneath the worried furrow of his brows. They wait. It feels like forever, but they wait, and they don’t press until, at last, their leader lifts his eyes to them instead, relief coloring his expression. “Magical exhaustion.”

“No,” Four shakes his head. “I’ve seen Hyrule overuse his magic. He gets tired, but he doesn’t turn.... grey. And he doesn’t stop moving!”

“That’s when he’s a hylian,” one blue eye drops again, a sad little smile tugging at the mouth of the elder man. “As a fairy, it works differently.” The hand lowers, moving close to Four again, offering him the responsibility of taking back his unconscious brother while Time turns his attention to his bag. “Transformation magic takes a lot out of a fairy. For Hyrule, being a fairy would be the transformation, but if, for some reason, he’d been brought into a space where only tiny beings could exist, rather than changing back when his magic runs out,” the potion’s cork pops loudly in the night air, “he’d get stuck.”

“Stuck?” He and Twilight chorus together.

Time nods. “Yes. His magic knows he can’t change back inside a tiny space, but if it’s run out, then he can’t maintain his form normally either. Instead, he has to draw directly on his magical core, which strains him considerably. That’s why usually, when fairies are weak enough to need to pull on their core, they slip into a hibernation so that their magic can keep them alive at the least cost to their core.” As if sensing the inevitable question, the man adds, “drawing on a core for too long damages it.”

“So...” Twilight blinks, speaking for them both. “He’s in hibernation?”

“For now.”

“How do we fix it?” Blue takes the reins, and the others let him.

The old man raises the potion bottle in his hand. In the faded light, Four can’t make out the color (how appropriate) so he waits to hear it spoken. “A green potion ought to help restore his magic and stop him drawing on his core for survival.”

“Then he’ll change back?”

He sees their leader wince, and Twilight does too, shoulders tightening above him. “He will change back, right, old man?”

Time avoids their gazes, reaching for his bag again. “Not without doing it himself, but he should, yes.”

“Good.”

“We just have to wait until he wakes up.”

“And...how long will that take?”

A flinch. “Even with his magic restored, it’s unlikely he’ll come back immediately. He’ll need time.” If Legend were here, or Wild, one of them would point out that their leader is here now, so what else could be needed? But they’re not here, and neither Twilight nor Four speaks up in their place. Instead, Four stares as Time produces something else, settling it before him carefully, before lifting his hand away. With nothing blocking him, he’s able to see that the object set before him is a thimble, “I think you ought to help him with the potion, Four. At his current size, we’re more likely to harm than help.” Which isn’t true at all.

In reality, Time helps quite a bit as he pours out the potion (that they all claim is green) into the thimble, which is far more manageable for Four to lift. Situating the traveler against his front, he has to fumble a bit to get the rim to his brother’s mouth, but Time’s finger helps steady the traveler while he does so, stopping him sliding away from the smithy’s front or his head falling to either side. It’s awkward, when he actually stops to think about it, but they make it work.

After the first thimble, Time pours three more, which is honestly more than Four thinks he could hold in his own body at this size, but the old man assures that it’s basically liquid magic, and the traveler will need lots in order to wake again. “Four thimbles might not be enough, but we’ll see.” He tells them, once more taking the traveler in his own hold, hand cradling the limp form of the fairy with all the care he’d show a baby. More, maybe. Fairies are smaller than babies, so they are a bit more delicate.

“What now though?” He asks, watching.

Time’s gaze falls on him in answer. “Do you need help shifting back?”

“Should I?”

“If you can.”

“And if he needs more of the potion?”

“He won’t,” the hand holding his brother tilts slightly, although Time needs not lower it at all for Four to see the faint shimmer of green light that the fairy within is emitting. “I think that was enough. I’ll have him drink the bottle when he’s changed back, but you don’t need to help any further, smithy.”

He nods.

Finding a portal in the dark takes some help from Twilight, but once he has, and has shifted back, it’s a breath of fresh air. Returning to their leader’s side though, he finds the man now seated on their previous stump, gaze fixed on the tiny, unmoving, but also unwavering, glow in his hands.

“Is he waking up?” He asks, slipping from Wolfie’s back to stand at their leader’s side. At this size, Hyrule looks even tinier, and so much more breakable in Time’s big hand. He’s not moving though, still.

Time shakes his head though, as though the smithy can’t see for himself. “As I said, he’ll need a while to come around.” Blue lifts, and it’s strange to have their leader level with himself. “You boys should head back to camp. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“What about you?” Shadows slip free of the wolf, leaving the rancher standing in it’s place, brows furrowed and voice low.

Time’s gaze drops to his precious cargo, a tiny, almost tender smile touching his features. “I’ll wait for him. Tell the rest that Hyrule needed my time a bit longer, but we’ll be back when he’s ready.”

So, they do.

They head back to camp, joining the others for dinner just as Wild’s beginning to serve it. There are questions, and he still is yet to make his report, but doing so is a quick way to divert attention from their absent leader and wanderer. Later, Time will come back, a sleepy, but normal sized Hyrule curled in his arms, face buried against his chest as the traveler dozes, but for now, the camp muses over the information they were given. Any questions on how he’d gotten this knowledge are lost to worry about Hyrule’s absence, and any fear for Hyrule is lost to questions about the report Four gives.

When Time does come back, it’s only after Warriors has assigned shifts and most of them have at least pretended to go to bed. Their leader’s return has them all watching though, no longer pretending as their eyes, so many shades of blue, follow Time’s path through camp to his bedroll, to Hyrule’s settled beside it at Warriors behest. The man settles the traveler down carefully, but the hand caught in his tunic isn’t pulled free, instead tolerated as long hair is brushed back from freckled cheeks and their leader settles down beside the younger hero.

Even when his good eye slips shut, there’s something warm playing on Time’s face as Hyrule unconsciously nestles up against him once more, and a callused hand becomes lost in dark curls.

Twilight’s gaze meets his own, something like a smile in them as he shrugs, disrupting his blanket. Four just smiles back, shaking his head. Fairy boys, the unspoken thought flickers in both of their heads. It’s only when he lays down again though that he realizes that Time might even be who the minish meant when talking about the last hero.

Well, that would make sense. He’ll ask tomorrow though, right now, he has no interest in disturbing either of the two heroes.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto writes #febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #lu four #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu time #fairy hyrule #minish four #fluffic

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: sub Miranda priestly? 👀🙏❤

Fuck yeah! I’ve always had a head canon that she’s a sub. She’s just incredibly stressed and definitely needs to be taken care of. Reader, as usual, is gender neutral. Let’s get into it!

You had been Miranda’s assistant for much longer than most. You attribute your staying power to the fact that you just don’t really care about wearing expensive clothing and the latest styles. You want to be true to yourself. You don’t care if you fit in with everyone else’s expectations. Of course you dress professionally, but you don’t go overboard. You’ve done your research and understand the business, however, you’re not getting discouraged and drained by it. You’re confident in yourself and don’t feel the need to put up a facade.

Sure. Nigel and Emily tease you. But slowly, they’ve come to accept you for who you are. You three often go out for drinks after work.

Miranda, however, has apparently not warmed up to you as much. (That’s actually not true, though. She’s just really good at hiding her attraction to you.) She still won’t call you by your actual name and sends you on ridiculous errands. But, she has also started asking for you to bring the book by the house. She only sends people she trusts with the book. You’re honored.

Today, Miranda is in a much worse mood than usual.

You, Emily, and Nigel are chatting and making each other laugh when Miranda arrives. She’s half an hour later than she typically is and that’s seemingly contributing to her frustration.

She storms in and flings her jacket on your desk, unintentionally knocking Nigel’s scalding hot cup of coffee all over the front of your shirt and in your lap.

If Miranda noticed what she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. She goes right into her office and closes the door.

You hiss in agony as you bite back some cuss words.

Nigel gasps and immediately grabs some tissues to try and soak up the spill on your desk. “Are you okay, Y/N?” He asks, horrified.

“Yeah, Nigel. I’m fine… But, I can’t walk around like this all day.” You say and grimace at your stained clothes. “What the hell am I going to do? I don’t have the time to run home and change.” You ask.

Nigel looks at Miranda’s closed office door. He can tell she’s going to be a while. He turns back and grins at you. “Where do you think you are, Y/N?” He says… And immediately decides to make you his next project.

Nigel gives you tons of clothes to try on. You tell him he’s going overboard, but he just glares at you and you shut up.

By the time you’re done, Nigel has picked out the perfect sleek suit for you to wear. He helps you style your hair and tells you to go look at yourself in the mirror.

“Wow… That’s me?” You ask in shock. You look like a completely different person.

Nigel nods with a pleased smile. “It’s certainly an improvement.” He says jokingly. “Keep up that usual confidence and people are going to think you own Runway.” He winks.

“Thanks, Nigel. I really appreciate it.” You tell him.

“Don’t thank me, I was just tired of seeing you dress like an accountant.” He says, crinkling his nose.

You roll your eyes and get back to the office. As you walk in, Emily almost spits out the tea she was drinking before she starts coughing violently.

You raise a perplexed eyebrow. Emily’s cheeks are burning. “What is it, Em?” You ask.

Emily composes herself and clears her throat. “So, you actually look decent for once. Hell must have just frozen over.” She says, trying to seem disinterested in how great you look in your new outfit.

“Haha, very funny.” You say and go to sit back at your desk.

Before long, you hear Miranda’s voice from her office. “Emily.” She says. You huff. She said it in the tone she uses when she means you.

You quickly get up and walk in with a notepad and pen. “Yes, Miranda?” You ask and look down at the paper to get ready to jot some stuff down.

Miranda doesn’t speak immediately.

The silence makes you look up at her in confusion.

Miranda’s face can’t hide the shock she clearly feels. Damn. You look really hot. She can’t help but wonder how much better it would look off of you, though… With your hands exploring her body… Shit! Pull yourself together, Miranda! She thinks harshly to herself and tries to snap out of the trance you’ve put her in.

She knows what a heartthrob you are (She’s not dumb), but this… This is just not fair to suddenly spring on her.

You clear your throat after Miranda’s been staring at you for a while.

The editor slightly shakes her head before her brain gets the message to start working once again. “Get Marc on the phone and make a reservation at that place I like. And Patricia needs to be picked up from the groomers.” She says in her calm, but demanding voice. Her momentary internal freak out has finally passed.

You nod. “I’m on it.” You say quickly and leave.

Miranda clenches her jaw. This is Nigel’s doing, she’s sure of it.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day goes by routinely. Impossible demands are met and you take great pleasure in your efficiency. Later on, Miranda leaves for the day and you finish up some work before going to take the book over.

You get to the townhouse and enter… However, there is an immediate and noticeable tension. Something is wrong. You hear a man’s furious voice and… Miranda’s. You can tell she’s trying to placate whoever she’s talking to, but the man’s voice only grows louder. You’ve never heard Miranda so… Shaken up. You look up at the stairway balcony and see two frightened little redheads peeking their faces out at you. They are silently pleading with you to do something.

Your vision goes red. You stomp up the stairway and make your way to the sound of Miranda’s voice. She sounds… Scared. You turn the corner and see a man, about Miranda’s age, yelling and berating her. You’re almost positive that this is her husband. You and Miranda’s eyes meet. She is so relieved to see you.

The man reaches out to grab Miranda’s arm roughly, but you immediately pull him back by his collar before he can lay his disgusting hand on her. You shove him hard up against the wall, seething. “Alright, you’re done, asshole! Let’s go!” You tell him and drag him harshly down the stairs with your arm tightly around his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He shouts, grunting in pain from your iron grip.

“Your worst fucking nightmare if you continue to make bad choices.” You say darkly. “If I see you back here again we’re going to have a problem. Get it?” You ask and violently shove him down the townhouse’s front steps.

The man stumbles and trips over himself. He splutters as he gets up and looks at you stupidly.

“Beat it!” You yell at him.

The man sees the rage in your eyes and decides to get going. He’s not going to mess with you.

You watch as he leaves like a pathetic idiot. You make sure that he’s gone before closing the front door, locking it, and sighing. You turn around and see Miranda at the top of the stairs.

Her eyes are red from crying and she looks so… Vulnerable.

Cassidy and Caroline begin to sob as they hurry over to hug their mother.

“It’s okay, bobbseys. Mommy’s here.” She assures. Wow. Her voice is so soft and warm right now. You… Love the sound of it like this. It’s comforting.

You quietly make your way up the stairs. “Are you all okay?” You ask gently.

Miranda sees you approaching and begins bawling herself. She reaches out to pull you into a group hug with the girls. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” She says.

Your eyes grow wide. You’ve never heard her say thank you before. You enjoy the feeling of them all in your arms. You could certainly get used to this.

You four finally pull away from each other, but Cassidy immediately clings to your side. She feels safe with you. Not to be outdone, Caroline quickly grabs onto your other side. You look to Miranda in astonishment and she can’t help but chuckle tearily as she looks at the shock on your face.

“I would say that you have won these two over.” She says with a smile and looks at her precious daughters.

You decide that you rather like the idea of the girls approving of you.

Miranda leads you all to the girls’ bedroom and Caroline and Cassidy immediately hop in the same bed and cuddle with each other. Miranda tucks them in and sits on the edge next to them. “Now, bobbseys. I know that was very scary.” She says. “But Y/N protected us.” She says and looks at you in gratitude.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Caroline says.

“Yeah, thanks, Y/N!” Cassidy eagerly adds.

You blush intensely. “My pleasure.” You mumble out, embarrassed.

“Stephen will not be a problem any longer.” Miranda says, looking back at the girls. First thing in the morning, she’s filing divorce papers against that son of a bitch. A restraining order too.

“So, Stephen’s not going to live here anymore?” Caroline asks.

Miranda cups her face. “No, he won’t, bobbsey.” Miranda promises.

Caroline nods, feeling relieved.

“Now, would you like a song to help you fall asleep?” Miranda entices.

The girls eagerly nod.

Miranda turns to you and pats the bed next to her. You quickly take a seat and can feel her lightly leaning against you. She’s so warm. She gently holds your hand and squeezes it.

Miranda sings a beautiful Yiddish lullaby. You are once again falling in love with her voice. You could listen to it constantly.

The girls are soothed by their mother’s singing. They quickly fall asleep.

Miranda ends the song and kisses each daughter on the head before standing up and guiding you out of the room. She turns off the lights and closes the door.

Miranda grabs your hand and leads you to her bedroom. “Y/N, I… I can’t thank you enough.” Miranda says, breaking down once again.

You wrap her in a hug. “Hey, it’s all going to be okay.” You tell her and rub her back.

Miranda lets herself cry for a minute and you calmly whisper soft reassurances in her ear. You will never let anything harm her or the girls again. Something about your dynamic with them has completely changed. You will protect them with your life from here on out.

After Miranda has allowed herself some time to cry, she suddenly pulls back and looks at you closely.

You look back at her. “Miranda?” You ask.

“I… Feel safe… With you, Y/N.” Miranda reveals. She’s just pinpointed why she loves being around you. Every time at work when Miranda has forgotten something or made a tiny mistake, you swoop in and fix it… And now… This. You’re like her own personal superhero.

Miranda’s statement makes your heart rate pick up. You love that you make her feel secure.

“I think that… I haven’t felt truly safe and protected like this since I lost my father.” Miranda realizes and looks you in the eye. “I… Want you here with me, Y/N. Please, will you stay tonight?” She pleads.

You had no intentions of leaving anyway. You wanted to make sure Stephen was really gone. You smile. “Absolutely. I’ll go sleep on the couch.” You tell her. “Good night, Mi-”

“No!” Miranda all but shrieks.

Your posture becomes rigid. Miranda’s never raised her voice before. It’s quite startling. You turn to look at her but Miranda suddenly cups your face.

“Please… Stay in here with me.” She begs.

You can’t say no to her. You nod. “Okay.” You agree.

Then… Something happens that totally changes you for good. Miranda leans forward and places a gentle kiss to your lips. Your brain short-circuits for a second before you kiss her back. Her lips are so velvety. You need more.

Miranda moans softly and it’s the most tantalizing thing you’ve ever heard. She pulls away and looks critically at you. “Nigel knew what he was doing when he dressed you.” She says with a small smirk. “What an evil way to torture me all day.” She whispers.

You laugh and wink. “You can blame yourself for that. You spilled coffee all over me.” You tell her.

Miranda is mortified. She doesn’t remember that. “I… What?” She asks, confused.

“Forget it. I’ll tell you later.” You grin and start to trail kisses down to the base of her throat.

Miranda whines as she grips your hair, wanting you to keep going. You carefully pick her up and lie her on the bed before positioning yourself on top of her. “Let me take your shirt off, doll baby.” You tell her and begin unbuttoning her fancy blouse.

Miranda all but melts as she sees the feral look in your eyes. This is what she needs. To be taken care of and… Completely worshipped.

Note: Haha, so no smut, but the unexpected dom/sub dynamics were really fun to work with on a more emotional level. Depending on if y'all like this one, I may write some smut for it. Hope you enjoyed this!

Masterlist

#miranda priestly #the devil wears prada #dwp #miranda priestly x reader #devil wears prada #emily charlton #nigel kipling #caroline priestly #cassidy priestly #meryl streep #emily blunt #stanley tucci

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allthings-acorn · 9 months

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Dogblr! I’m working through a training issue and would love some different perspectives. My question involves dealing with prey drive, engagement, and premack, I think?

Ok, so, I have a fenced-in yard for the first time ever, and I’ve been trying to start things off on the right track for Acorn. Acorn is a three year old mutt, with a fair chunk of terrier ancestry. There’s is nothing he loves more than searching for and chasing critters. I want him to be able to enjoy the yard, but not to totally disregard me while he’s out there.

Here’s what I’ve been doing so far: We go outside on a leash. I wait for him to offer eye contact before taking the leash off. Then, I reinforce any and all engagement with me. I start off with treat tosses for choosing to check in, and usually after a few minutes I can cue different behaviors and have sustained engagement.

The problem is, the amount of time I have to wait for him to offer me attention is pretty variable. I’d hoped he would start offering engagement sooner but it doesn’t seem to be happening. Tonight I suspect there was increased squirrel activity, and he ran around from tree to tree for about 10 mins, rarely checking in with me. I’d wanted to play fetch with him, which is a favored activity of his, but obviously doesn’t outrank squirrels. After about ten mins, I tried to begin the game, which, in retrospect I should have realized he wasn’t going to go for. He blew me off once, I tried again a few minutes later and he chased the toy twice before losing interest again. At that point I leashed him up, and brought him inside.

I’m trying to put my own frustration aside, but it’s definitely a factor here. We have a similar issue in agility class, the barn where classes are in the winter is a huge issue for us. He does better when we train outside, but he still has a tendency to leave me and run the fence line investigating smells instead of working. I really really want to get to the point where I can let him off leash, train and play with him, and THEN release him to the environment.

So here’s my current thinking— I’m feeling pretty discouraged, so let me know if you have any ideas or if you think I’m on the right track or not— I need to stop allowing him to do the searching for prey behavior until I’ve finished with whatever I’m planning to do. I suppose I’ll keep him on leash or maybe a longline, work engagement until he seems ready to start on whatever the goal of the session is. Start small at first and see if it becomes easier for him to focus on training once he knows he’ll get to run around the yard afterwards.

Ugh, for some reason I’m not liking this plan. I suppose it makes me feel like I have to be the Fun Police, making him eat his vegetables before dessert. But I’m also very tired of feeling like I have to coax him to engage with me every time we’re working around any distractions. I feel like my current protocols work in the short term, but I don’t see any improvement from session to session. Clearly this is an ongoing problem for us, and I hope that being forced to tackle it at home will help address the issue in agility too. Anyway, I would love any advice, insight, pep-talk, commiseration, suggestions for courses or other resources, etc. I just need to stop feeling like I’m banging my head against a wall!

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blue-slxt · 11 months

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It Was Supposed To Be Us - Chapter 5

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: We have reached the end of our story! Thank you to everybody that's interacted with this series. Every like, comment, and reblog mean so much to me. I hope you guys enjoy this finale. I'm not great at writing action scenes so forgive me if it's a little mid. All characters are aged up.

Previous Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of DV, PTSD, Anxiety, Violence, Blood, Smut, P in V, Fingering, Loss of Virginity, Creampie, I think that's it

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Neteyam takes care of Ralu.

Sleep seems to elude Neteyam for the night. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s haunted by visions of your beaten face and body. It’s devastating. His stomach twists with nausea and guilt. He tosses and turns trying to get comfortable, but it’s useless. Before long, the sun starts to rise. Neteyam knows his father will be up soon. He’s going to need his support if he was going to pull this off without actually killing Ralu. And, as tempting as that idea sounds in his head, he knows it’s not the smart thing to do. Neteyam sits outside of his family’s home sharpening his knife and waiting for his dad. And almost on cue, Jake appears from inside.

“Neteyam, you’re up early” he says a bit taken aback.

“Couldn’t really sleep” he says continuing his work on his weapon.

Jake lets out a big exhale sitting next to Neteyam on the ground, “Talk to me, boy. Tell me what’s going on.” Jake still wasn’t clear on the details of what all was going on. When he took Neteyam away yesterday, he didn’t speak much on why he did what he did. Jake knows his son well enough to know that he wouldn’t snap like that on somebody for no good reason, but he couldn’t help if he didn’t know the entire situation.

Neteyam drops his knife and uses two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose while he comes to grips with everything. “He is not a good man.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that yesterday, but what you haven’t said is what makes you feel that way.”

“He…he hurt her, dad…” his words trail off as he finds himself needing to literally bite his tongue to keep the tears at bay. “You should have seen what he did to her…”, one tear slips.

Jake nods solemnly understanding the situation now. “Is she okay? Is she safe right now?”

“Grandmother and Kiri are keeping her in the healing tent.” His jaw clenches in frustration, “I should have been there. A man is supposed to protect his own and I failed.”

“Do not blame yourself. You couldn’t have known this would happen. And son…she isn’t yours.” Jake doesn’t mean it to sound as harsh as it probably comes across.

Neteyam looks his father in the eye, “She is in every way that matters.”

In this moment, Jake doesn’t see just his son, he sees a man doing his best to defend what is precious to him.

“Alright, so what do you want to do?”

…

Neteyam propped himself against a tree deep in the woods while he waited to carry out his plan. Even just with the waiting, he can feel how his blood is beginning to boil. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t nervous. But he wasn’t nervous about his plan failing. He was more worried about controlling his own wrath. As far as Neteyam was concerned, Ralu deserved whatever fate befell him, but his father discouraged him from being the one to deliver that fate. “Let Eywa handle that part.”

Neteyam hears footsteps coming his direction. It was time. He remains in his spot against the tree and watches the figures in the distance grow closer. Jake was leading Ralu to Neteyam. Jake had convinced him that he wanted to apologize for his son and get his side of the story. Jake didn’t truly care for whatever excuse or lie Ralu tried to come up with for what happened to you. Before he agreed to help with this, he had already gone to speak with Mo’at about your condition. He didn’t actually see you out of respect for your privacy and dignity, but Mo’at gave him a very clear picture of your condition. And she confirmed that however you were injured, it definitely was not from “falling in the woods” as you had described to her. He had heard all he needed to.

Once Jake and Ralu reached the clearing, Ralu locked eyes with Neteyam and stopped dead in his tracks. He looks between the two Sully men and suddenly realizes that he’s trapped. He weighs his options on if he should stay or leave. But his own ego and anger cloud his better judgement as he decides to stay and stand his ground.

“Okay, I see what this is” his arrogance is obvious in his tone.

Jake and Neteyam exchange a glance and Jake gives his son a small nod before he walks into the woods a bit. He’s close enough to come running in case anything goes wrong, but his main purpose for standing there was in case Ralu attempted to run.

“Let me guess, this is about your little girlfriend, isn’t it?” Neteyam takes one step towards him, “Don’t you dare even talk about her. Be grateful I even left you a tongue to speak with.”

Ralu smirks at him, a smug display of his amusement. “You may be the son of toruk makto, but you need to learn to keep your hands off other people’s things. That bitch had it coming.” Neteyam had heard enough and lunges for Ralu knocking him over. Ralu kicks Neteyam off and attempts to take a swing at him, but he dodges. Neteyam takes a swipe at Ralu with his knife and manages to make a shallow cut on his outstretched arm. He pulls his arm back to look at the cut.

“That the best you can do?” he taunts.

Neteyam is unphased, “Says the only one bleeding.”

Ralu launches himself at Neteyam and manages to get him into a hold that Neteyam can’t quite maneuver out of. Instead, he flips around the knife still in his hand and cuts across Ralu’s abdomen. It’s not deep enough to cause any serious damage, but it is enough to make him release his hold. This makes him retreat from Neteyam in pain and give him an opening. Neteyam snakes around staying close to the ground and grabs Ralu from behind and wrestles him down to the ground. His legs lock and hold Ralu’s while his arms have him in a headlock and his knife is alarmingly close to his throat.

Ralu struggles against Neteyam’s hold, but with no success. The threat of Neteyam’s knife pressing into his skin makes him finally go still.

“You will never come near her again, do you understand?” Neteyam hisses in his hear. “She is not yours and she will never be yours. And if I ever, ever see you even so much as look at her the wrong way, I will personally see to it that you suffer an excruciating end.”

Ralu scoffs. He doesn’t think Neteyam actually has it in him to follow through on his threat. Neteyam is seeing red as he flips the knife in his hand and jams it through Ralu’s shoulder. He screams out in pain and writhes in Neteyam’s hold. He pulls it out and presses the very tip of his knife into the skin on Ralu’s throat coaxing out a single dribble of blood. “Answer me!” Neteyam was fully prepared to do away with this man for good and deal with whatever fallout came after.

“Neteyam!” Jake calls out to him. When he turns to look at his father, he has a stern look on his face urging him to do the smart thing.

Ralu knows he can’t actually beat Neteyam and he’s ready to end this whole ordeal finding you not to be worth all the trouble. He begrudgingly agrees with a nod of his head.

Once Neteyam is satisfied, he sets him free and watches as he gathers himself to leave. “And do not go to the Tsahik for your injuries. She will not help you.” Neteyam calls out after him.

He falls to the ground catching his breath when Jake comes over to him. He had quickly looked over Ralu as he left and, from what he could see, Neteyam had done what he needed to. He checks in on his son, “You did good, son.”

Neteyam offers his father a small smile and a nod, “Thank you, sir.”

…

“You don’t think anything has happened to him, do you?”

“I already told you, I don’t even know what’s going on. But this is my brother we’re talking about. I’m sure he’s fine. Now, hold still while I check your eye” Kiri tells you while looking over your face. You had been borderline pestering her all day about Neteyam and whatever he was planning to do. Your anxiety had ramped up as the hours dragged on. He had asked you to wait for him inside the tent and you did, but you couldn’t help the worry that still plagued your mind. How long were you meant to wait? Kiri did her best to reassure you, but she didn’t know exactly what was happening either. She had minimal information as she had only partially overheard the conversation between her father and Mo’at. She didn’t know what her brother had planned to do about Ralu, but she trusted that if their dad was with him, he wouldn’t go off the deep end.

She continues inspecting your wounds from the other day and is pleased to see the swelling around your eye going down slowly, but surely. And your body no longer felt like the fire of a hundred suns. It was now more of a dull ache. You still weren’t in ideal condition, but it was leaps and bounds from how you first walked in.

“Thank you, Kiri. For letting me stay here for the night and taking care of me.” You were truly, deeply thankful that she gave you a safe place to recover. Even going so far as to physically stand in the way of danger to make sure you stayed safe.

She grabs ahold of your hands and squeezes them tight. “Mated or not, you are family. We take care of each other.”

You can feel yourself getting choked up so you try to change the subject, “So, how do I look?”

She follows your lead, “Much better than yesterday. I’d say it’ll take another day for the swelling to go completely down, but it’ll still be bruised for roughly another week.” She lets your hair fall back in front of your face. You preferred to keep your eye covered while it heals.

Immediately after, Jake and Neteyam come into the healing tent and Jake bends down to give you a once over. “How are you feeling, baby girl?” “Oh, I’m much better today. Thank you. Kiri has been taking really good care of me. I owe her a lot.”

“Don’t be silly. You never owe me.” She says standing up.

“Is she okay enough to go for a walk?” Neteyam asks her.

“Yes, just take it easy okay? Your wounds physically look better, but don’t push yourself if it still hurts.” Kiri answers from across the tent.

Neteyam holds his hand out to you and you take it. He leads you out of the tent and your eyes subconsciously dart around the area around you. Neteyam can feel your unease and notices the curl of your tail. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You swallow hard following his lead. You let him lead you through the forest and he helps lift you over large branches in your path that you would normally be able to hop over with ease.

“Neteyam where are you taking me?”

“Oh, like you can’t guess?”

You playfully roll your eyes at him. Of course, he’s taking you to your spot.

It seemed like it had been forever since the two of you came here together like this. Out in the open in broad daylight. No worries about sneaking out under the cover of night.

Neteyam leads you into the center of the clearing and helps you to sit while he kneels in front of you.

“Any particular reason you lead me all the way out here?” you ask genuinely curious. It’s not that you didn’t love being here or being here with him, but why right now?

“Actually, there is. It’s because I couldn’t think of a better place to say this.” He takes a big breath trying to calm his own nerves.

“Listen, we’ve known each other for most of our lives now and ever since the first day I saw you, I knew. I knew that I wanted to be with you forever. I knew I could never live without you again. When we promised to be together, that was the happiest moment of my life. And with everything that’s happened recently, I couldn’t help but feel like I let you down. As soon as I returned, I should have stood my ground and declared my intentions with you, but I didn’t and it caused you to get hurt. I should have protected you.” “Neteyam, you—” he holds his hand up to stop you. He already knows that you would say it wasn’t his fault and that he couldn’t have known what would happen. And even though the logical part of his brain understands that, it still brings no comfort to his still-aching heart.

“I knew I had to do something to make it right. I promised you I would take care of it and I did.” “What did you do?” you’re almost scared to ask.

“Please do not worry about it. Just know that he will never come near you again. You don’t ever have to worry about him.”

His words ring through your head while you process them. Just like that? It was over? You wouldn’t have to be on high alert anymore or live in fear? You were free? He holds your hands and locks eyes with you.

“But I wanted to officially ask you if you’d do me the honor of letting me court you and being my mate.” He smiles at you, but his eyes are scanning your face looking for any little indication that you may reject him. He, of course, finds none.

“Do you really still need to ask?” your expression is overjoyed and Neteyam takes his first real breath since he started talking.

“You couldn’t have honestly thought that I would reject you, did you?”

“W-well, it’s been such a long time and I just wanted to be sure. A-and…” Neteyam starts to ramble just like he always did any time he was flustered or nervous. It was adorable and you can’t hold back the giggles especially when you notice the slight purple color starting to stain his cheeks.

You hold his face in your hands and his words trail off at your touch. “’Teyam, stop talking. The answer is yes. It was always going to be yes.” He captures your lips in a tender kiss and your heart soars. Everything was finally falling into place.

…

Over the next week while you heal your wounds, you and Neteyam find your footing as a new official couple. He courted you just like he said he would, showering you with the most extravagant gifts. Rare beads, intricately woven accessories, beautiful flowers, your favorite foods, you name it. Neteyam probably would gift you the moon itself if you were to ask for it.

It was still difficult some days, though. Even after your physical wounds healed, your mind still stayed vigilant at all times. It would cause you to jump at sudden sounds or touches.

Poor Neteyam looked so forlorn the day he tried to reach out and hold you and your instincts made you flinch away from him without you meaning to. He insisted that he understood why you reacted the way that you did. It still made you feel awful, though. You didn’t want to still be afraid, especially not of the one person you felt safest with. The one person you never had to be scared with.

It took time. A lot of time. Some nights, you still had nightmares about it all. His voice and touch still so vivid in your mind that you would swear he was there in the room hovering over your sleeping body in the middle of the night. Of course, he wasn’t actually there. Only Neteyam resting next to you and who would hold you a little closer to himself when he felt you stir awake from your midnight hauntings. Soft shushes and whispered words of reassurance would calm you back into a state of sleep.

Ralu truly never did dare to even look your way again. You would catch sight of him among the clan and it would make you pause briefly in your steps, but he never gave you so much as a glance. Neteyam never really told you what happened between the two of them, but you settled on the decision that it was probably for the best that you were left out of the loop. If you had to guess, though, it probably had something to do with the new scar he was sporting on his shoulder. In truth, how he did it didn’t really matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were out of the nightmare. You had your person. He was yours and you were his.

…

It was finally time. The day had come when you and Neteyam would finally be mated before Eywa. Your heart thunders in your chest gazing up at him under the glow of the Tree of Souls. His star-like freckles glowed a little brighter accentuating his features.

The ceremony had come and gone fairly quickly. Your union was acknowledged by the Tsahik in front of your families as they cheered and sang prayers for you both. Prayers of a long, happy partnership and many healthy children. After the ceremony, they sent the two of you off to have some privacy for your first night together. It was Neteyam’s idea to come here specifically. And you were so happy you let him choose. The setting was beautiful and buzzing with an energy that made everything feel even more alive and connected.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little nervous. You knew what was expected of mates. But you had never been touched in that way by anybody else. Your biggest fear was that it would hurt. You had tried to experiment a couple days ago in preparation for this night. You hesitantly and carefully tried to push one finger inside of yourself, but panicked at the feeling and cut the experiment short. It was frustrating. You loved Neteyam with your whole being and you wanted him to become one with your being. You wanted him to touch you. You couldn’t stand the thought of the last man who had laid hands on your body being Ralu. But could you really go through with this?

“What is wrong, yawne?” Neteyam asks you knowingly.

“Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” you try to brush off his question.

“Your tail is doing that thing again. I know something is on your mind. Talk to me, tíyawn.”

You breathe a big sigh, “I think I’m just nervous. Now that we’re mated, I want us to…you know…do what mated people do. But I am nervous that it is going to hurt because I’ve never had anything inside before.” Your head drops in embarrassment and your eyes cautiously look up at Neteyam who is only smirking at you.

“You are too precious”, he says kissing your forehead. “We do not have to do anything that you are not ready for yet. And, when you are ready, I promise to be as gentle as possible.” “But I want to do it now. I want to become one with you.”

Neteyam thinks for a moment before he speaks again, “Here, let’s try this.” He pulls his queue forward and you follow him. “When we make tsaheylu, we’ll be able to completely feel each other and I will know how best to take care of you.”

You nod your head processing his words. The tendrils at the end of your queues dance wildly in front of you. You both bring them closer together until they meet in the middle and hold one another melding the two of you together.

Both of your pupils blow wide open as your minds take in all the new stimuli from not only your own bodies, but each others’ too. You can feel Neteyam’s breathing and heartbeat as if it were your own. Every single sensation he feels is coursing through your body all the way down to the feeling of the ground beneath his feet and the ends of his braids resting on his shoulders. It’s overwhelmingly euphoric.

You make the first move to reach out and touch Neteyam’s face and press your lips to his. He wraps you in his arms kissing you back deeply. You happily open your mouth for his tongue to explore. You both settle down on your knees and he lays you down on your back. Using one of your hands, you push your top up to reveal your breasts. Neteyam’s hand freely roams about your body massaging your soft skin. His fingers trek down your chest and waist and right past your loincloth to rub messy circles on your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat and Neteyam swallows the moan you let out. He breaks the kiss so he can watch your face.

“I’m going to put one inside, okay? Just breathe for me.” You take a big breath and as you release the air, Neteyam pushes one digit into your heat. The feeling is indescribable. It’s not quite uncomfortable, but it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. When he slowly starts to pull out and push back in, it feels like a lightning strike in your body and you love it.

Now, Neteyam can feel himself getting harder by the minute. Feeling your tight, slippery walls squeeze around his finger has his head spinning thinking about how good it would feel around his dick. It’s even more intensified by the bond you two held, feeling your pleasure radiate through his own body.

Once he feels your body relax more around him, he pushes in a second finger. The stretch is a little more intense, but still not anything you couldn’t handle. Your breath is heavy in your chest as you look up at him. “Neteyam…”

“You are doing so well, tíyawn.” He kisses your lips again and takes advantage of the way your body melts into him to push one final finger into you. He can feel through tsaheylu the dull sting that comes from being stretched like this for the first time. He holds his fingers in place just long enough to let the feeling pass for you before he moves again.

“’Teyam…please…I want it.” Your big doe eyes look up at him pleadingly.

Fuck, you were just too precious for Neteyam to ever deny you anything you wanted. Plus, he was just about at his own limits of his patience. He pulls his fingers from your core and the sudden emptiness makes you wince lightly. He helps to pull your loincloth off and you raise your hips to help him. He pulls the knot on his own loincloth loose to let it fall to the ground.

Your eyes widen seeing him for the first time. He’s big. Too big. There’s no way something like that will fit inside of you. Your nerves are starting to get riled up. Even without tsaheylu, Neteyam can feel your anxiety. One of his hands finds your chin to lead your eyes back up to his. He reassuringly rubs his thumb against your skin, “Slowly, okay? Just focus on me.” You re-steady your breathing and nod your head. You close your eyes when you feel his tip prodding at your soaking entrance. Neteyam pushes his hips forward towards yours and his tip presses on past your folds and right into you. You gasp and grit your teeth trying to push past the feeling.

Neteyam slowly inches himself further into you. You wince and whine at the feeling. “Shhh…just a little more. You’re doing such a good job.” It was as if he was pushing your organs to the side to make room for himself inside of you. It was almost suffocating how full you felt. But his soft voice and the caress of his fingers on your face help strengthen your resolve. Suddenly, he stops moving. “You can look now.” Your eyes lower to find your pelvises pressing together and a small bump poking through your abdomen. The sight normally would’ve horrified you had it not been for the immense pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Are you okay?” Neteyam’s patience is thinning by the second, but what little is left of his better sense urges him to go slow for you and make sure your first time is a good one. But damn if the way you were choking his dick didn’t make it difficult.

You nod up at him letting your body accommodate him. “I’m going to move now.” Your eyes cross at the drag of his tip along the spongey part of your walls as he pulls out and pushes back in. A small whine leaves your lips and your fingers hold on to Neteyam’s shoulders to give you something constant to focus on while you adapt to the new feeling.

Before you know it, the pain starts to dissipate and your chest falls dramatically letting out a breath you hadn’t even recognized you were holding onto. Your body relaxes fully and lets Neteyam in. His hips rock into you a little faster testing the waters and more moans fall from your lips. “’Teyam…” Neteyam feels just about ready to snap hearing how his name drips from your tongue in ecstasy.

He thrusts into you with more force and the sounds it pulls out of you triggers a carnal desire in his brain that his eyes are desperate to see as they roll back listening to you. Nevertheless, he pulls them back into place to find your half-lidded gaze on his face and parted lips calling his name. He’s positive he’s never found you more beautiful than this moment right now. But he craves to see your beautiful expression twist into something sinful. He can’t stop himself anymore from starting to pound into you.

“Ah..A-ah! Ah, Neteyam!” your hands feel around and search the ground around you for something to hold on to as you feel the pressure building in your stomach. Neteyam’s hands find yours and he threads his fingers between yours while he pours all his feelings for you into his thrusts. Both of your eyes look down between you to see the small bump in your stomach disappear with every retreat of his hips and re-emerge with every push forward. The sight is enough to drive you both to your release.

“’T-teyam! Gonna…g-gonna..” you can’t even grasp the words as your orgasm comes to the forefront of your mind.

“Do it. Cum with me.” He’s mere seconds from painting your walls completely white.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck and it’s prolonged by Neteyam continuing to fuck you through his own release deep inside you. His thrusts grow slower and gentler as you both come down from your highs. Your vision starts to refocus and your body goes limp. Neteyam slides out of you and your body tries to remember its original shape before he had made space for himself.

“Are you alright, tíyawn?” the lustful haze of Neteyam’s mind is clearing and his expression is slightly concerned while he checks on you. But your sleepy smile reassures him and you nod your head. “I’m more than okay.” Your hands wrap around his neck and pull him down to kiss you again.

He rolls you both onto your sides and you break the kiss to rest your head against his chest. “Can we do that every day?” a small chuckle rumbles in his chest as he kisses the top of your head.

“We can do it as much as you want, yawne.”

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #awow smut

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leonawriter · 2 months

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The thing is - and I don't think it's just me, either - the ideal of "if there's nothing out there for what you want to see, make it yourself" only ever half works.

Because if there's a limited amount of fanworks for a thing that I want to see more of, I don't get the inspiration to go "I like how [x] did it, but I want to do it my way." I don't get to see how much love other people put into their things, and get the drive to match it.

It's also, though, a matter of... if I do try, then I often feel like I'm not writing for myself. I'm writing for the sake of trying to encourage other people - friends, who I love and appreciate but who don't see the worth in this particular thing - to come around to it, and... that's never going to make anything worthwhile that will have that intended effect.

And then after I've posted a thing, even if I'm pleased with it, if it gets barely any attention or love? It's massively discouraging. There's no encouragement to keep going.

Especially if you're someone who doesn't know how to gain an audience on social media to get people to be interested in your stuff because it's "you" (or who feels like "you, the person" isn't enough to sell the thing to people) it's hard to feel that people are going to read a thing or share it once it's done.

So then I end up just going back to the more popular thing that I know I enjoy and I know I get positive feedback and attention for, and still don't get around to writing good things that I'm proud of for roughly most of the things that are less popular.

And that, in turn, makes it harder to look at, say, some of the more fandom-accepted things where from an outsider's perspective no one has any of these issues.

It's all well and good to say "make it yourself!" but there needs to be an audience in order for that to work. Not everyone can just... throw things into the void, or hope that someone's going to get into a thing just because of them - and no one should expect that anyone is or should do that (because they're owed, or anything like that), either.

Which is why I get frustrated sometimes! Because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing most of the time, and no idea how to "fix" it.

#admittedly this is mostly a ship thing #but it has absolutely happened with other things too

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teaberrii · 8 months

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Chapter 21: The Final Trigger

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Luocha couldn’t sleep.

He’d been tossing and turning for hours, unable to forget what happened earlier. As promised, he tried using magic to see into the maid’s memories. Why did she suddenly attack Jing Yuan’s wife? What happened before that? However, no matter what Luocha tried, he came up empty. After many hours, he dismissed her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. It was discouraging enough that he couldn’t determine what happened to the king. Now, the pattern was repeating itself.

The king was dead, yet alive. That was the best way Luocha could explain the king’s current state. His father was no longer himself; he was a shell of the person he used to be.

Jing Yuan was also getting increasingly impatient. His wife was getting worse. Not only was she strangely losing a lot of weight, but the added stress was causing her hair to fall out. Luocha hadn’t seen her in weeks. Not because he didn’t want to, but because she had begun locking herself in her shared room with Jing Yuan. She refused to see anyone, believing she’d become a “monster.”

Luocha sat up. Perhaps a quiet, early morning walk would calm his nerves.

The doctor was welcomed by a cool breeze when he stepped out of his room. As he headed toward the garden, he looked up at the moon… and he suddenly thought of you.

Where were you now? Were you eating well? Did you find a new life? Then, Luocha began thinking about the past. Would things have turned out differently if he had told you why Young had to die? Would you have understood?

“...You tricked her?” Luocha had asked.

“It was the only way,” Jing Yuan said. “My mother believes the princess is dead. She’ll leave her alone.”

“Regardless, what you did was… it was beyond what was necessary. You didn’t kill Young. You… slaughtered him.”

Jing Yuan’s gaze hardened. “What’s your point?”

“I didn’t think you hated him this much.” Luocha leaned against the wall. “You really were in love with my sister… and you couldn’t bear that she was in love with your half-brother, the man who also grew up with your mother’s love.”

Luocha’s eyes widened when he felt a sudden gust of air near his cheek. He slowly looked to the side and saw a knife that narrowly missed his face.

“Are we done here?” Jing Yuan asked.

Luocha pushed himself off the wall and left the room.

That was all in the past. It was too late.

When Luocha reached the garden, he saw Jing Yuan’s handmaiden sitting on the small wooden bench beside the pond. Luocha stared from afar, not knowing the woman he was looking at was you.

He approached you, and by the time he was close enough, you asked, “Are the demons keeping you awake?” It was a question that took Luocha off guard. But, before he answered, he glanced at the empty seat beside you. As if reading his mind, you said, “Go ahead.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Luocha said, sitting next to you. “Why are you awake at this hour?"

"To get a little peace and quiet. The king... Jing Yuan's wife... They are on the lips of everyone at the palace. It's almost impossible not to hear about them."

Luocha glanced at the koi swimming up to him. "You're a little different from everyone else.”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean that in a good way. You seem much more educated than the other maids.”

“I didn’t know you were paying so much attention to me.”

“It was Jing Yuan who noticed it first.”

Luocha saw your gaze harden as you said, “Oh? Is that so?”

“...Who were you before you came to the palace?”

You slightly smiled. “Me? Just a woman… living a simple life in the village.”

“No family?”

“No.”

“...Have you… ever heard anything about the princess?”

A slight pause.

“No."

“I see…” Luocha sadly smiled. “I… I miss her. My sister.”

Another pause.

“Have you tried looking for her?”

“Even if I did, things wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t want to see me.” When you remained silent, Luocha cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“I’m sure she’s well,” you said, without looking at him. “Women nowadays are learning to stand up for themselves… and becoming independent.”

“Yes, that’s true. Though, I would say my sister paved the way. I still occasionally hear the maids talking about her. Some always witnessed her studying and doing things outside of what women were allowed to do. She inspired them.”

No response.

So, Luocha said, “Well, I must be off.”

“Are you going to see the king?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

You looked at him. "Call it a hunch. Your face looks like you're carrying the world on your shoulders." You stood. “Good luck… Master Luocha. I hope you find out what’s wrong before it’s too late.”

Luocha watched you walk away, your words echoing in his mind. Soon, he, too, was on his way, walking in the opposite direction. He was almost to the king’s quarters when someone came running around the corner and knocked into him. Luocha caught himself, but the guard did not and struggled to get up. Then, Luocha saw a wound on the guard's arm. It looked like a bite mark.

The guard quickly stood. “M-Master Luocha! What are you doing here?”

“Your arm…” Luocha stepped toward him, but the guard pulled down his sleeve in an attempt to hide it.

“Are you going to see the king?” But before Luocha could reply, the guard said, “He’s… He’s in a rather bad mood right now.”

“Did he attack you?”

“Um, well, that’s…”

Another guard appeared from behind the corner. He was panting as he said, “Master Luocha! P-Please come immediately!”

When Luocha arrived at his father’s room, the door was open.

“He… He’s in his room,” the guard behind Luocha said as the doctor cautiously entered his father’s messy quarters.

Everything was in disarray. Bloody fingerprints were on the floor, walls, and the furniture. The closer Luocha got to his father’s room, he heard mumbling and flesh being torn apart.

“...I’ll teach them a lesson.”

Luocha carefully looked through the crack in the door, and his face went pale when he saw his father tearing a piece of flesh from a guard’s unconscious body.

“This will teach them,” his father muttered. “This will teach them… not to mess with the king.”

“M-Master Luocha—”

Luocha didn’t have time to shush the guard when he saw his father turn around and lunge at them.

It’s morning, but Luocha hasn’t been able to enjoy his daily coffee like he always does. He can’t stop thinking about how monstrous his father looked. His messy and frizzy hair, foggy eyes, and bloodstained face. Luocha believes that was the moment the king was truly gone.

Then, Luocha remembers the woman by the pond. He might’ve not realized it the first time, but the woman must've been you. Were you waiting for things to spiral out of control? Did he ever find out who you were? The more he sees, the hungrier he gets. He wants all of the answers, but it’s as if the curse is forcing him to wait.

“You look well.”

Startled, Luocha turns around and sees Lan sitting on his couch.

“Are you switching targets?” Luocha asks. “Haunting me instead of Jing Yuan?”

“If I had a choice, I wouldn’t choose either of you.” Lan turns to the doctor. “Cupid, Dan Heng, and Pom are with Jing Yuan.”

Luocha thinks back to his conversation with Jing Yuan earlier. What’s he planning? “More the merrier to try to rekindle an old friendship, I suppose.”

“Nanook and I have been looking into The Withering. The curse now is supposed to drive the infected crazy as you slowly get your memories back. But, there’s a final trigger.”

“...A final trigger… Like what?”

Lan snaps his fingers, and the report that Nanook put together appears in his hand. “Nanook put this together that explains a lot about the curse. We all know that The Withering ended up being a grudge meant to infect the same people over and over again.” Lan puts the report on the table. “If the curse is meant to drive all of you crazy now… we think there has to be a final trigger.

“It could be an action. Maybe one of you killed someone you weren’t supposed to. Another could be the feeling that you lost something you value. Everyone is different and cares about different things.” Lan notices how Luocha is anxiously tapping his fingers against the counter. “When you remember that feeling or whatever you did… the consequences could be horrific.”

“In other words… the curse latched on to what we cared about and either took it away from us or… we took it away ourselves because we were infected.” Luocha almost laughs. “My dear sister was quite sadistic, wasn’t she?”

“If we can find out what that was before you remember it, it could help ease the stress and the pain. We’re trying to keep you sane by finding things out before they happen.”

Luocha sighs. “...Well, I haven’t the slightest idea of what I could’ve done. What about Caelus?”

Lan shakes his head.

Luocha suddenly remembers the strange things he heard his father say in his dream.

“This will teach them. This will teach them… not to mess with the king.”

“...I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner.”

“Notice what?” Lan asks.

“My father. I”—Luocha stiffens—”My father was the king. But because of the disease, we confined him. His freedom was stripped away from him. The Withering turned them into zombies. Perhaps that was the sign that they finally lost their minds.”

“If it’s any reassurance, you won’t turn into something like that in the present.”

“But the curse evolves.”

“...Do you know something.”

“I told Cupid I withheld a lot of information," Luocha says. "The deaths… that’s something I didn’t tell anyone about. Both my father and Jing Yuan’s fianceé… they tried taking their lives before they died.”

◆◆◆

You were sitting by the pond, mulling over your thoughts as you waited until it was time for you to meet Pom. Earlier, you were carrying a tray of food to Jing Yuan’s room as ordered. You were about to knock when you heard something smash against the floor.

“I can’t! I can’t take this anymore!”

You peeked through the small crack and saw Jing Yuan’s wife attempting to gouge her eyes out before Jing Yuan stopped her.

“You’re still the same!” he insisted.

“How?” Her voice almost sounded distorted. “I look like a monster. I can't think straight. I... I'm losing everything!" She glared at him. " Your attempts at making me feel better are pathetic, Jing Yuan.”

“We’ll… We’ll find out who did this.”

The desperation in his voice made you smile until…

“I saw a woman,” his wife said, almost trembling. “...In a dream. Yesterday night. I don’t know who she is, but… I can’t shake the feeling she has something to do with all of this.”

“A woman…?”

Your smile slowly began to fade when the woman his wife began describing was... you. How was this possible? You’d never met her with your real appearance. This had to be an eerie coincidence. But then it hit you. Was this a side effect of the curse?

“...Side effects?” you had asked.

Pom nodded. “Curses as strong as this come with a side effect. I wish I could tell you what… but I’ve never created something this strong before. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Will we be in danger?”

“I don’t think so… but it’s hard to say.”

“...The woman you just described was the princess," Jing Yuan said, dragging you back to the present.

“The one you exiled?” Jing Yuan’s wife crossed her arms over her chest, and her robe nearly fell off. “The woman you loved?”

Jing Yuan frowned. “Was that necessary?”

His wife walked past him. “Why do you always tense up when I mention her, hm?” She stopped and turned around. “What if she’s here? Would you kill her for what she did?”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Jing Yuan spat.

His wife scoffed loudly. “I can’t believe it. You… You’re still in love with her?”

“I am not.”

“Then, you wouldn’t kill her for what she’s done to me? To the king?” She walked up to him. “Who am I to you?” Then, desperately, “...Tell me I’m enough, Jing Yuan. Tell me that you love me.”

You knocked on the door.

When Jing Yuan slid it open, his wife went into hiding.

“...Put it on the table,” he said, not looking at you.

You stepped inside and put it where he’d asked. It wasn’t until you stood upright that you suddenly saw his wife a few feet away. She was glaring at you. Startled, you took a step back, but she lunged at you and forced you to the floor.

“It’s you…!”

You easily dodged her attempts at clawing at your face before Jing Yuan easily pulled her away from you. You quickly got to your feet.

“Stop! What’s gotten—”

“Can’t you see her?” she screamed.

Jing Yuan looked over his shoulder at you. Then, he looked back. “See what?”

“You’ve gone mad,” you said. Then, you bowed once. “I’ll be taking my leave.” You quickly walked out before anyone could say anything else.

The last person you were expecting to see was your brother. After that conversation, you were walking toward the maids’ living quarters until you quietly snapped your fingers when you turned the corner. One minute you were there. The next, you were gone. Or… so one thought.

You eventually head toward a small, old gate, leading to the palace's outskirts and the forest entrance. This had been the exit you frequently took as a kid to sneak out. As you got older, it had also been your exit to meet Young. But, now it was sealed off.

You put a hand on the gate when you saw a black and white cat with bright blue eyes walking along the top of the wall. The feline lay down and used his paw to clean his face. Then, he looked at you as if waiting in anticipation.

You muttered something under your breath. You blinked once, and you were on the other side looking at Pom who was leaning against a large tree trunk.

“...You’ll never believe what just happened,” you said.

Jing Yuan is lying on the couch when Pom leans over and squints, examining the hole in Jing Yuan’s chest.

“You really got him good, Cupid.”

Jing Yuan frowns. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“It's a miracle that you lived!”

Jing Yuan rolls his eyes. “Don’t tell me you came all this way just to tell me I’m one lucky bastard.” Then, he sighs. “Or, is this about Lan telling you I wanted to apologize?”

“I’m here to give two options,” you say to Jing Yuan, sitting next to Dan Heng. “You can wait and let the wound heal on its own. The process won’t be as painful. Or”—you frown—“you can cry while I stitch you back together.”

Jing Yuan narrows his eyes. “Why? You tried to murder me the last two times… I doubt you’d forgive me this quickly. There’s a catch.”

“You can thank Dan Heng then,” Pom says.

Before coming to Jing Yuan's place, you and Pom had come to Dan Heng’s apartment for breakfast. Pom and Gepard had gone out to get some groceries while you and Dan Heng had just finished setting the table. Dan Heng took your hand, and soon, your back was against the counter. His hands went to your shoulders.

“...You want me to what?” you asked. “I… I don’t want to.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dan Heng said. “But… let’s try talking to him. Lan did say he wanted to apologize, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, well, I doubt how genuine that would be,” you muttered.

Dan Heng kisses your forehead. “At least we can say we gave it a shot. If we didn’t, we would be part of the problem.”

You sighed. “...Yeah, you’re right.”

Dan Heng hugged you while you leaned into him and eventually put your arms around him. Your head was against his chest when you heard him say, “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

Then, you looked up as one of his hands went around your head. He leaned forward, and his soft lips touched yours—

“Spare me the details,” Jing Yuan says sarcastically.

When Pom catches you and Dan Heng giving him a deadpan look, he says, “I swear we didn’t see anything else!”

“Anyway,” Jing Yuan says, looking at Dan Heng. “I’m glad someone has a voice of reason.” Then, Jing Yuan turns to you. “Will this be quick, Sweetheart?”

“That depends,” you deadpan. “If you continue with those ridiculous nicknames, I'll make every stitch burn.”

“Did someone say burn? Who or what are we burnin’, huh?”

Jing Yuan rolls his eyes. “I should’ve known I was getting one more babysitter.”

The God of Destruction is leaning against the archway leading into the living room. “Well, General, unfortunately, I’m not here to be anyone’s playmate.” As Nanook walks in, he says, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you need to speed up on the whole getting-my-memories-back-and-lets-all-be-friends thing.”

“Did something happen?” Dan Heng asks.

After Nanook tells you about the final trigger theory, he says, “...Caelus is close.”

“What else did he remember?” Pom asks.

“...Nothing that can lead us to determine what he might’ve done. But... he remembers Stelle. There were a lot of fights between them,” Nanook continues. Then, he looks at Jing Yuan. “Apparently, they were because of you.”

Jing Yuan groans as Pom asks, “Why is it when trouble happens, it’s always you?”

“I wish I could tell you,” Jing Yuan mutters. “Truly, I do.”

“Caelus helped Jing Yuan kill Young,” Dan Heng says, and everyone looks at him. “But before that… Young met Stelle. At least, he saved her.”

“Oh… Now here’s an interesting development,” Nanook says with a smile. “Don’t tell me we have a love triangle happenin’ here.”

“We have enough drama to deal with,” Pom says.

Nanook scoffs. “You make it sound like you’re the one dealing with it, Rabbit.”

“Have you talked to Stelle?” Dan Heng asks.

“That’s my next stop,” Nanook says. “But… I’d rather have a… normal introduction than popping in and scaring her half to death."

“...Doing that is more complicated than you think,” you say quietly.

Dan Heng agrees. “Yes… We’ll have to tell her everything that’s going on.”

“We don’t even know if Stelle is Caelus’s”—Jing Yuan makes air quotation with his hands—”’final trigger’. It might not even be worth getting her involved in this.”

“Wow,” Pom says. “Someone has a heart.”

Jing Yuan gives him a deadpan look. “Guess almost losin’ it made me want to use it a little more.”

“Anyway,” Nanook says, “Lan and I will continue keeping an eye on Caelus.”

“I’ll go see him tomorrow,” Dan Heng says. “...Perhaps Stelle tried convincing him not to kill Young.”

Pom crosses one leg over the other. “Y’know… I just had the wildest thought.”

“Well, don’t keep it all to yourself,” Jing Yuan says. “Enlighten us.”

“What if… What if Stelle fell in love with Young?”

“From meeting him once?” Nanook asks. “Girl falls in love too fast.”

“It’s just speculation,” you say. “Let’s focus on the facts.”

“Aw, don’t tell me someone’s jealous.”

You glare at him. “I’m not.”

Jing Yuan also smiles. “Why so defensive, Sweetheart?”

“Stop with the nicknames.”

Nanook and Jing Yuan start laughing as Pom looks from you to Dan Heng. “Should I even be surprised at their synchronicity anymore?”

“Well, if she ain’t jealous”—Nanook smiles—”she wouldn’t be frowning so much.”

You almost throw a pillow at him just as Dan Heng puts his hand on yours.

◆◆◆

“Quarantine her?” Jing Yuan asked, baffled.

Luocha had come to see him late in the night. But before Jing Yuan could ask about the bloodstains on his shirt, the doctor had asked about his wife.

“I just came from my father’s room,” Luocha said, panting slightly. “He’s officially lost his mind.”

“Where is he now?”

“...In the dungeon.”

Jing Yuan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “The… dungeon?”

“He was eating someone, Jing Yuan.” Luocha barged in. “Where’s your wife?”

“...She went out.”

Luocha quickly turned around. “You let her out?”

“She looked miserable and hadn’t gone out in days! Of course, I’m going to let—”

A scream pierced through the air. Luocha and Jing Yuan wasted no time rushing toward where it came from. Just behind a pavilion, they saw Jing Yuan's wife hunched over a maid. Another one was backing away, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrific scene. Luocha grabbed the maid's wrist, and she gasped.

“M-Master Luocha!”

Luocha put a finger to his lips as he gently pushed her behind him. Jing Yuan was cautiously approaching his wife. He was trembling as he saw the maid was already dead. Her hair had been torn out, and the skin on her face was almost ripped off. Before his wife could claw at her eyes, Jing Yuan said her name.

His wife turned, and Jing Yuan saw her cloudy eyes were starting to return to normal. “I…” she began to say as she slowly looked at her hands stained with blood.

“She attacked her,” the maid behind Luocha said quietly. He looked over his shoulder as the maid tore her gaze away from her dead friend. “...She was criticizing her.”

Jing Yuan’s wife fell to her knees, but Luocha grabbed Jing Yuan’s arm before he could get closer.

You were watching the entire scene unfold from behind a nearby pavilion. Pom, as a cat, had been watching while sitting on top of a wall. You had seen Jing Yuan’s wife lunge at the maid who was gossiping about her to the other maid. From her looks to her intelligence… clearly, the maid was not fond of her. Words could kill, but they could also be a person's ultimate demise.

“...Tell me about your fianceé.”

Jing Yuan glanced at you who had your hand over his wound that was slowly and painfully stitching itself back together. Still, he’s handling the pain well. But, you see how tightly he’s holding that pillow.

“Why do you want to know about her?” he asks.

“Or, we could sit in silence as I watch you struggle with the pain.”

“Whose fault is that?”

You curve your fingers, and Jing Yuan suddenly screams in pain.

“What’s going on?”

Jing Yuan glares at you before looking at Dan Heng and Pom who’d come out of the kitchen. “Tell your girlfriend to be more gentle, would you?”

“He’s exaggerating,” you deadpan.

Pom slowly goes back to the kitchen, but when he sees Dan Heng still looking at you and Jing Yuan, Pom comes up behind him. “Something wrong?”

There’s a small silence before Dan Heng says, “...It’s nothing.” Then, he walks back into Jing Yuan’s kitchen with Pom trailing behind.

“So, you want to know about my fianceé?” Jing Yuan asks. “It’s not every day a murderer is interested in learning about their victims.” He catches your glare and sighs. “Okay, bad joke.”

“...I remember why I cursed her in the past.”

Jing Yuan looks at you but you’re focused on his wound.

“Why?” he asks.

“She was an intelligent woman. She knew about magic… more than the average person.”

“So, you killed her to stop her.” You glance at him. When you say nothing, Jing Yuan says, “My fianceé was working in academia. You’re right. She was an intelligent woman.” He smirks. “She would’ve caught you.”

“How did you meet?”

“Connections.” You raise a brow. “Love at first sight. The minute I saw her, I knew I wanted to marry her.”

"How romantic."

“I don’t waste time.”

A short silence passes as you focus on healing the wound.

“...Hey.” You look up just as Jing Yuan asks, “What are you going to do after you get your memories back? Are you… going to stay here?”

“...Where am I supposed to go?”

“What if you were given a choice?” Jing Yuan glances at the kitchen. “...To stay here with Dan Heng or… be with Young.” Before you can say anything, Jing Yuan continues, “Don’t tell me you think Young is really gone.” He looks at the pendant. “I bet he’s still somehow around.”

“...I’d rather focus on what we need to get done first.”

“Right… you still need to forgive me for all my past shit. Well, aren’t we bonding right now?”

“Sounds like you’re forcing me to give you an answer,” you say, not looking at him. “Normal people… smart people will pick up on my hints.”

“You broke my heart once because you never truly loved me.” You slowly look at him as he sighs. “What I did was unforgivable. But now... you're free to decide what's more important to you. The past or the future."

You turn back to Jing Yuan’s wound and say, “...It’s done.”

It’s then Dan Heng appears from the kitchen with some food he and Pom had prepared. But, unbeknownst to you, Dan Heng had heard the entire conversation.

Chapter 22

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