#if anyone is wondering I already have been sifting

[houserautha]

Just curious — what songs do you associate with Feyd?? For my own self interest I’m trying to pick the song😂😂 it’s proving to be a challenge though

#if anyone is wondering I already have been sifting #I have basic ass taste in music though #but I love making playlists for my fics #most of them now are panty dropping songs for obvious reasons #dune #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #fanfic writing #feyd smut #music #character playlist

[starlessea2]

If you still want Astarion requests, I’d love to see something with a Tav who’s really nervous to let Astarion bite? 🥺

Positively Starved (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: In spite of your nerves, you invite Astarion back for a bite; admiring the trust you've put in him, he promises to be gentle (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N I wrote this in under an hour as I wanted to play around with some requests! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these off-the-cuff oneshots! (Also, slight mention of blood in this one).

Masterlist

"You can feed on me tonight... if you'd like."

The words sprung from your mouth. They lingered in the air, each syllable punctuating over and over—ringing out through your shared connection.

You felt a cringe.

Where in the seven hells did that come from? Was one near-death encounter not enough?

Before you could attempt to splutter out any sort of explanation, you were met with Astarion's laugh. "How very generous, my dear! I was starting to wonder when you'd invite me back for a bite."

Blood pooled to your cheeks; you could feel it—see it in the way his eyes turned them a similar, darker shade.

As you ruminated on his words, your heart hammered in your chest. The silence was palpable. But just as you were about to open your mouth to dismiss the idea completely, the man was roused into action.

"You know... I never expected you to be so eager," he finally said. Your embarassment swelled tenfold. "Tell you what, when the others have turned in for the night, I'll come to your bedroll."

Immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You glanced around—far less subtly than you would have hoped. To anyone in earshot, it would have sounded like Astarion was propositioning you.

Well, he was, you quickly realised. Just for blood over sex.

"Right—okay," you stammered back. You hated how weak your voice sounded, so you took a moment to make it stronger. "Come find me later then," you told him, before returning to sifting through your supplies.

You tried to calm your nerves, but as you turned to leave, you did not miss the way Astarion's fangs poked through his grin, nor how his eyes trailed your neck. Your legs almost buckled.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥ ◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥

As night fell, you found yourself, and your bedroll, tucked away in a small stone outhouse on the edge of camp. You'd discovered it earlier in the day, when looting storage boxes for odds and sods. It was cold, and damp—but at least it wasn't dark.

Amber glow lit up the space; you'd illuminated it with a few low-wicked candles as you waited for Astarion. In this warm light, you tried to make yourself comfortable on your bedroll.

"Setting the mood are we?"

Astarion's voice echoed through the outhouse. Although you tried not to acknowledge it, your heart immediately quickened in response—as did your mind race.

Your eyes followed him as he came inside, closing the old oak door behind him. "I must admit, I didn't expect this..." He waved a hand before him, inspecting the dripping candles, and your poor attempts at cleaning the place up.

"How come?" you asked.

His smile sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, aside from me getting a tad carried away the first time we did this... I could also feel your thoughts."

Even in the dim light, you could see his half-lidded expression, as though he was reliving the moment behind tired eyes.

He went on, "Excitement, yes, my dear. But also flighty as a bird."

Your brows furrowed. Part of you felt indignant, craved to prove him wrong by baring your neck without an ounce of apprehension. The other part wondered how he already knew you so well.

You tried to muster a reply, but it was Astarion who spoke first. "As much as I appreciate the offer, you don't have to do this, you know."

In that moment, everything seemed to still. You could only imagine the state of disbelief painted on your face. Throughout your time together, that must have been the most selflessness Astarion had ever strewn into a sentence.

But now was not the time to comment on it.

"I know," you said instead. "And I won't lie to you. I'm not sure exactly why I sought you out."

You sat up and reached for Astarion's hand. Something flashed over his face, but even so, he allowed you to guide him down to your bedroll.

"Perhaps you were right. Perhaps there is a spark of curiosity in me—excitement, even." His eyes widened, set alight by your confession. "Or maybe, and I know you won't like it..."

With a raised brow, he coaxed you, "Go on."

"When you told me about Cazador—" You paused for Astarion scowl, watching the lines materialise on his porcelain skin. "Well, I just thought how horrible it must have been to be constantly..." You sought out the word. "Hungry."

Astarion's lips parted ever so slightly.

Are you hungry? You shared the thought with him.

"Positively starved," came the reply.

Then he leaned in, casting shadows over your candle-lit skin. To any onlooker it might appear he was preparing for a kiss. But you weren't that naive.

"Not—" Your hand found his chest, the exposed skin peeking out of his shirt collar. "Not too much," you whispered.

Your eyes caught his in a silent plea. Astarion answered by taking your hand and pressing it into your bedroll. "No need to worry, my dear," he said, hot against your ear. "I promise to be gentle."

Your breath hitched. That wasn't the first time you'd heard those words spill from his pretty lips; you just hoped he'd be true to his word on this occasion.

You kept your eyes tightly shut as Astarion found your neck. As his fangs scraped your skin, you took a fistful of his hair between your fingers.

He bit down.

You tried not to cry out. The sensation was one you could hardly describe: a sharp sting followed by... euphoria?

No that wasn't right.

But all you could confidently say was that Asatrion's body lay hot over yours, and his lips were soft, but not quite as gentle as promised.

As he drank from you, you saw stars behind your eyes.

Your body thrummed as he suckled on the tender skin of your neck. The sounds he made were nothing short of sinful; they elicited a strained sort of moan from behind your own lips.

You felt Astarion's hand tighten over yours. He took more from you, worrying your skin between his teeth, coaxing more of your gasps to surface.

Pleasure mingled with pain coursed through your shared connection—a deep longing on either end. You cried out, and quickly, Astarion pulled away.

Feeling the loss of warmth, you opened your eyes. You were dazed, but even then, you noticed his cherry-red lips, tinted with your blood.

You blinked, trying to rid your vision of its blurred edges.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Astarion asked. He sat up immediately, inspecting your neck and overall complexion. "You're looking a little... flushed," he concluded.

A tired laugh escaped you. "My blood runs hot," you managed to say.

"Indeed it does," he agreed. Then he promptly stood up and dusted himself off.

A pang of hurt struck you.

It must have been strong enough to have travelled through your shared connection, since Astarion glanced back almost immediately.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, exasperated. "I'm just going to fetch some water. Try not to move until the dizziness passes."

Your mouth fell ajar. A wave of shyness overcame you. Had it been that obvious you wanted him to stay?

Apparently it had, so you tentatively rolled over, hiding your face from the man. "Thank you," you mumbled into your bedroll.

You heard the door creak open, and Astarion's footsteps damper. "No, my dear," he replied. "Thank you."

#astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

[chosowarmer]

Choso x Tailor!Reader [18+]

transgender!man choso [non-op] ; transgender!male reader ; semi-public sex ; nipple play ; eating out ; fingering ; 3.7k wc

After getting lost in the boutique, Choso is a bit relieved when you come and introduce yourself as a guide of sorts for the place. After helping him pick out clothes and complimenting him, he can't help but wonder what the odd feeling in his chest was and why he wanted to meet you again so bad.

A/N: took a break from a nanami fic to write about choso !! i love him so bad

“Agh…. Yuji…”

Choso watched as Yuji waddled off with his friends, leaving his older brother behind. He had never been to this boutique before and it was pretty vast. Every aisle looked the same to him, and it felt impossible to navigate.

Still holding the shopping basket Yuji had handed him, Choso turned his attention back to the line of hung clothes in front of him. Maybe he could try to keep looking himself and by the time he was done, his little brother would be back to help him out. 

With a huff, he sifted through the garments, thinking of which ones may be a good fit for him. Although, most of what he found didn’t appeal to him at all, and the ones that did weren’t even a proper size for him. 

After pulling out another shirt with a weird graphic on it, he clicks his tongue, clearly annoyed. With his little brother still not back yet he takes to wandering the aisles, hoping to find his way out. Every sign seemed to only direct him towards another clothing section for him to explore which was mildly nice to pick out things he liked, he would’ve much preferred to be out of here already. After walking past the shoes department for what felt like the third time in a row and growing more frustrated, he jumped in surprise at hearing a sudden voice behind him. 

“Hi there, sir, is there anything I can help you with today?” 

You had been watching him walking back and forth, muttering something under his breath like he was lost or something. Most other days, you’d leave customers like that alone unless they came to bother you directly, but you were having a good day today and he was pretty cute; might as well get a chance away from folding clothes to talk to an attractive guy. 

He eyed you wearily, holding the clothes in his arms closer to him. You tilted your head, a polite smile still on your face but now slightly confused from this guy’s silence. Maybe you should’ve kept to folding and putting clothes away and let him stay lost. 

You’re ready to excuse yourself when he finally says something.

“Who are you?”

Ah? That’s what had him so quiet? You bite your tongue, still keeping to your polite mannerisms lest your boss reprimand you. You wave a hand in front of your name tag that sat right above the boutique’s logo in plain sight.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that, sir, I should’ve introduced myself first,” Even if it was obvious you worked there, “I’m Y/n, I'm the tailor's apprentice here. I couldn’t help but notice you walking around, and thought to stop and ask if you needed any assistance.”

He squints at you, the mark across his face slightly creasing. It’d be more endearing if this conversation were going the way you had wanted it to. 

“You were watching me?”

Okay, yeah, now you were really regretting not minding your own business.

“No, no, sir, I’m sorry if it seemed like that! As an employee here, I’m just trained to spot any lost customers and guide them. You are lost, aren’t you?”

Thankfully for you, this seems to alleviate some of the concerns he had about you as he nods, scratching his neck. 

“Oh.. yeah. I think I am, I was trying to find the way out of here, but…” 

He trails off, looking away, but you get what he means. The regular customers know their way around here, but for any newcomers, it’s pretty confusing. You haven’t seen anyone like him before, and it’s not like your co-workers have mentioned a guy like him coming in here. You flash a smile.

“Of course, sir, follow me.”

As he walks alongside you, you remember the clothes he’s holding in his arms. You weren’t sure if he had bought those yet, considering he was still lost all the way here, but it would be pretty ugly to assume he didn’t if he actually did…

“Oh, and did you need a bag for those, by the way, sir?”

You nod towards the garments in his hand, which makes him frown. 

“Ah… mm… No, I should put these back.”

“Oh! Did you change your mind?”

He nods, giving a frustrated huff, “My brother was helping me look for new clothes, ‘n after he left, I tried to pick out new ones too, but I don’t think I like any of them.”

You should just walk him to the exit and send him on his way. Especially after the earlier awkward conversation. But…

You glance back at him; he was still pretty cute, and whatever hostility he had earlier seems to have gone away or at least faded. If you went about it right, maybe you could get his number out of this…

“Oh, well, if you’d like, I’d love to assist you in picking out new clothes, if you’re still interested in shopping here.”

He blinks before thinking it over, muttering to himself, “I do need some new clothes.”

“Hm?”

“Oh, I’d… find that helpful, thank you.”

“Of course.”

.♡. 

“You think it’s nice?”

Having exited from the small dressing room, Choso examined himself in the mirror before turning to you for your opinion, seeing as you were an expert in clothing to him. 

You had already helped him pick out some casual clothing to wear; a few plain shirts that hugged his torso, lightweight bottoms that shaped his legs. He really was a handsome man, you realize while fitting him; if you were a proper tailor, you would’ve loved to have him as a model. 

He was pretty compliant with most of the clothes you chose for him, though for whatever reason, he continually doubted if he looked as good as you told him he did. You click your tongue walking up behind him, as you pat out wrinkles. You had him in a fine two-piece vest suit, similarly colored to the gi he had shown up in earlier. 

“Absolutely,” you hold up an arm of his as you straighten out the fabric, “If you don’t mind me speaking plainly, I think you’re a fine man, I don’t see why you should doubt that, sir.”

“...Oh.. Really?”

You glance at his face in the mirror, noticing the pink tent on his cheeks. You smirk faintly, it was always so cute to watch the guys you dress crumple at your words. Typically, you weren’t that interested in them, but this guy…

“Positively. Your body alone is quite handsome, if I may. Strong shoulders, a muscular build, powerful arms, even your hands, may I?” You had taken the time to lightly hold each part of his figure to emphasize your point and now took his hand in your gloved ones as you carefully knead over the calloused palm. It wasn’t too rough like a laborer’s would be, but they did look as if they had seen their share of rugged work. Maybe he was a sorcerer?

“Though to be perfectly honest, I’m no professional tailor or anything, just an apprentice, so my word may not hold much in terms of proficiency,” you move to adjust his hair, letting it relax as you undo his ponytails, noting how his eyes blink away to avoid yours, “But I do hope you take my words as fact when I say, you are one beautiful man.”

You flash a formal grin at him in the mirror, fixing his collar before taking a step back from him. He let his arms fall back down to his sides, as he fiddles with the cuffs. The blush on his face and ears almost rivaled the eye shadow around his eyes, contrasting the aloof expression he usually sported.

“I see, thanks.”

You smile, patting his shoulder as you gesture for him to change back to his original clothes while you gather the new ones he plans on buying. 

“It was lovely helping you today, sir, why don’t you change then I’ll help you upfront?”

.♡. 

After you sent him off with his purchases, you honestly weren’t expecting to see him again, or at least, not the very next day. 

Although, he wasn’t alone, being accompanied by a younger teen pointing at you.

“That’s who you wanted to see, Choso? That guy hanging clothes?”

“Mm, thank you, brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna be at the store next over, so you can meet me there when you’re done here.” The younger teen waves to you, before heading off and out the door. A sly smile grows on your face as the man from yesterday makes his way up to you, noticing he was wearing one of the casual shirts you had picked out for him.

Setting down the hanger in your hands, you give him your full attention, “It’s nice to see you again, sir. Is everything alright?”

He nods, his eyes on your hands before moving back up to you, “I was hoping to find some new clothes today.”

“Oh? You weren’t happy with yesterday’s purchase?” you tilt your head, a hidden smile in your voice.

“No, I was! I just… mm..” He pauses, trying to think of how to explain this. You decide to give him a break, smiling warmly at him as you pat his shoulder and gesture to the dressing room.

“I think I understand what you’re trying to say, sir. How about you head on over to the fitting room and I’ll be right with you, hm?” 

A light red tint brushes his ears as he nods weakly before moving; you turn on your heel, already certain what you’d pick out.

.♡. 

“It really is a pleasure to see you again - move your leg here - especially so soon.”

You had picked out a silky dress pants and shirt for him; a modest number of petite jewels adorning the legs and collar, laced sleeves, and an open chest window. It was a personal project you had been working on yourself with the extra fabric you’d get around the store, and it wasn’t nearly finished but it was satisfying to have someone model besides yourself. 

On one knee, you knelt by his leg, carefully tailoring the pant leg to fit him. You hummed to yourself, pretending to not notice the choked gasps that left him every time you let a hold his leg or run your fingers along the fabric. 

“As I’ve already said, this is just a pet project of mine, you won’t be buying it, but if you’re enjoying it, maybe I will see you again?” You glance up at him with a smile, playfully ignorant of your hand resting on his thigh just right below his groin. 

Choso can’t even breathe as his eyes meet yours. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he wanted from you when he came back, he just knew he wanted to meet the charming tailor’s apprentice again. The words he spoke, the way his hands had glided across the cursed spirit’s body so gracefully; it made Choso’s head spin, feelings he had never felt before surfacing in his chest. 

He imagined the many different ways the day would play out as he touched himself the night before. Letting his hand slowly float down his happy trail to his pussy, trying to replicate your mannerisms, but to no avail. Your refined voice playing in his head like an orgasmic melody, as his breath grew heavier and heavier, kneading his sensitive dick. Finally letting a finger slip in, curling up as he tries to take it as painstakingly slow as you probably would. But none of it is like you, he knows, even after getting himself to cum on his fingers, he still ached for your touch on his skin again. 

He just had to see that enchanting man again.

But now that he was actually here again, with you touching him like this, speaking so softly, it was like you put a spell on him. He gulped, remembering you had asked him something, though not at all remembering what it specifically was. 

“Choso-san?”

You tilt your head, trying to hold back a laugh though, letting a chuckle escape as you stifle it with your hand. While the dazed expression on his tinted face was endearing, you did actually want to hear him speak.

Rising to your feet, you gently tap his cheek, garnering a surprised “Ah!” out of him as he realizes how quiet he’s been. 

“Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Oh, you forgot already?”

You hum, sounding like music in Choso’s ears, as you let your gloved hand slide down to his neck before resting on his exposed chest. You meet his eyes with a smirk.

“Do you need a reminder, sir?”

.♡. 

You weren’t preparing for this exact scenario, but nonetheless, you were more than overjoyed for it to be the case. You silently thanked yourself for choosing to tailor him in the more prestigious dressing room the store had to offer, considering it was not only bigger but had a small table for laying down clothes, fabric, and other things. 

Like cute, two-ponytailed guys.

Choso bit his knuckle, trying to stifle his heavy panting as you traced a finger along his Adam’s apple, feeling his pulse quicken with your touch. You lean down, pulling him in for a kiss, as you let your other hand rest just above his chest. 

“Is this okay?” You inquire,  pulling away from his neck, eliciting a whine from him as he nods up at you, guiding your hand onto his breast. 

“Y/n…!” 

With a soft smile, you indulge him, massaging and squeezing while still layering pecks and kisses along his collarbone. He moans in your ear, grabbing hold of your shirt when you let a thumb run over his nipple. 

“I’m sure you’ve never had service like this before, hm? Never had someone kiss you like this, touch your chest like this?” 

Choso shakes his head, grip tightening with a mewl as you move your head lower, biting his soft tissue before licking over the mark. You continue this seemingly endless loop of biting and licking over and over, before finally giving some attention to his hard nipples. Letting your tongue lap over the sensitive buds has Choso a mess. Tears prick in his eyes, as he moans your name, trying to squeeze his thighs together. You don’t let him, though, as you hold his legs open with your other hand, watching him whine pitifully as he rolled his hips from your touch.

“Aht, aht. I don’t see why you should be rushing, aren’t you enjoying this pace?” A smirk evident in your voice, and it drives Choso crazy. You were so charismatic but so infuriating with how lightly you touched him and how leisurely you went about with him. He rolled his hips again, both out of need and in hopes you’d finally touch him. Instead, you tut your tongue, strengthening your hold on his thigh. 

“So impatient... Why don’t you go ahead and tell me exactly what it is you want?”

It feels like his brain’s been reduced to mush as you run your tongue over his nipple again, another whine leaving his lips. He could easily press his thighs together if he wanted, but the way you held his legs open and controlled his movements had his head spinning as he bit his lip. He couldn’t think straight at all as you tapped his thigh to bring him down to Earth.

Right, you asked him a question. A question he didn’t even remember hearing if he was honest. He moaned again, rocking his hips. 

“Haah… Please… y/n…♡”

You let your hand slide down his thigh to the zipper on his crotch, pulling it down as you exposed his pussy to the air. 

You bite your lip, feeling blood rise to your cheeks. “No underwear?” you murmur to yourself. Did he take it off after changing? Or maybe he didn’t wear any at all today? Was he hoping you’d fuck him? Just excited? Fuck, and he was already so wet, just look at him. All for you. 

You jolt a bit as Choso pulls on your shirt, moaning your name in the lewdest tone, trying to get you closer to him, to touch him. You pull him in for a kiss, your hand behind his head as you keep him close, desperate to deepen it. Choso groans, returning the kiss as he parts his lips for you, wrapping his strong legs around you now that you were closer.

Inviting your tongue into his mouth, you trail your hand down his chest to his needy cunt, letting your thumb rub over the head of his stubby cock. He closes his eyes, moaning into the kiss as his legs press tighter around you. As his dick grows wetter in your hand, you pull from the kiss with a gasp before moving down to replace your hand with your mouth. 

“Y- Ah! ❤︎ Puh-please, pleeease! Haah… hah♡!!”

He grinds on your face as you suck slowly, so frustratingly slow. He fucks himself senseless, with this being more than he could’ve imagined even if you were teasing him. His breathing grows heavier as you begin to suck faster and harder on his cock, increasing your pace with every lewd whine that leaves him. His hand grips the back of your head when you give his dick one last suck, seeing stars as he comes right into your mouth. 

It was better than anything he could’ve imagined last night, you were taking such good care of him right now, all he could do was blubber his words, begging for more. The way you touched him, and spoke to him, it was like he was drunk off of you alone. You found it adorable; if only the two of you were at your studio, you would’ve loved to fuck him senseless with your strap, seeing him dazed out of his mind like this. No matter, there was always next time, but for now…

Not giving him a chance to recuperate, you move back up his body to suck on his sensitive nipple as you let a gloved hand slide over his wet cunt. He brings his knuckle back to his mouth to smother his lewd whines, but you pull it away with a tsk.

“Haah…haah.. I want to hear you… don’t even think of hiding that gorgeous voice.”

The tint on his face deepens as he nods, his cock twitching at your words. His noisy whines fill the dressing room as you return to sucking on his nipple, slipping a finger into his needy cunt. You curl your finger up, slowly fingering him as you feel for something. You smirk when Choso screams, throwing his head back as his thighs tremble around you, having found that sensitive bud. 

He’s a babbling mess as he begs for you to add another finger to him, move faster, touch him there gain, anything! You oblige happily, curling another gloved finger into him as he soaks the fabric through. His eyes roll to the back of his head as you increase your pace, plunging your fingers in and out of him, nothing but the sound of squelching and his mewling in the room. 

“Mm.. haah..! CUH-close, so hah… close…♡!”

His thighs tremble pathetically as he gasps when you remove your fingers from his pussy, ready to beg for them back before almost crying out in pleasure as you thrust your tongue deep into his cunt. 

You drink him in, lapping up his sensitive cock before diving your tongue between his folds. His sensitive walls press around you as fuck him crazy with your mouth. As he presses your face deeper between his increasingly shaky legs, you know he’s close as you toy with his cock with your hand.

“Oh! ♡ Mm- Muh.. ah…!! ♡ Haah… M’ gonna…. y/n…! I… HAAH..♡♡..  AH ❤︎!!”

The stimulation is all too much for the poor spirit as he cums hard, his legs locking to keep you there as you continue to tongue-fuck him through his orgasm, eliciting more lewd whines and moans out of him from the overstimulation. Finally, his twitching legs relax as he pants, tears at the corners of his eyes. You pull yourself from his pussy, kissing his thighs. He moans softly as you run your hand over the hickeys on his breasts, kissing each one gently as you hold him. He sighs pleasurably as you peck each one, enjoying the feeling of your soft lips on his chest once again. 

When you pull away, he’s still panting trying to catch his breath a bit as you kiss his cheek. You smile down at him, pulling off your stained glove as you speak, “And how do you feel, sir?”

He feels heat rise to the tips of his ears, suddenly feeling shy as he comes down from his high, “Good.. I.. It was exactly what I was wanting..”

“Oh?” You take your bare hand to cup his face, “Exactly what you wanted, you say? So I can guess you’re satisfied then?”

He’s blushing, he can feel it. He glances down at his decorated body, how you absolutely ravished him, how your fingers alone had him coming. But he also catches sight of the wet patch on your pants and gulps, feeling his cock twitch.

“I want that again. But I want to make you feel good, too.”

You raise an eyebrow; that was a first, usually the guys you played around with always left you high and dry, leaving without much of a thank you or anything. You tilt your head, smiling teasingly.

“Well, usually I like to be wined and dined before getting ate out, but I suppose if you insist…”

“I can do that! Where do you want to go?”

You almost laugh in surprise; you were only teasing, yet he was so serious about taking you out. It was… touching. And cute. So he wasn’t only just attractive, he was thoughtful too. You were going to love him.

You press a kiss onto his lips before pulling away before it got out of hand, “How about you go change, and I’ll have an answer when you’re out?”

He nods, heading for the small changing door, before stopping and turning to you, a light tint on his that accented his cute mark, “You can just say Choso. You don’t have to call me sir.”

The smile on your face beams, “Alright, Choso.”

#m! reader #male reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #choso smut #choso x reader #choso x male reader

[juceynightmare]

lost and found (18+) part 2 - mjf x reader

my masterlist

lost and found (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): mjf x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, age gap (reader is 21, max is 27), max is an asshole, the line of kayfabe is blurred when it comes to max

genre(s): soulmate!au, slow burn, angst, fluff

|| previous part || next part ||

it had been a few days since that fateful day that she received a call from her soulmate, maxwell jacob friedman. a quick google search and many videos later let her know all that she needed to know about him. his in-ring persona, although y/n had learned that they were just characters, seemed to be a perfect mirrored reflection of how he was treating her over the phone.

it was hard to learn about who maxwell jacob friedman the person was, but it was easy to find out who maxwell jacob friedman the wrestler was. and if they were exactly the same, then y/n hopes that she never has to meet the man or contact him again.

but that didn’t mean that she was upset with this fact.

she had been struggling to focus in her lectures that day, and eventually decided to skip the rest of her lectures and just drive home to her apartment. that was, until she realized that she had no idea where her keys were. she groaned out in frustration, her hands pressed against her face as she stood beside her car.

god damn it all.

she pulled her phone out of her pocket, pulling up her phone and pressing the contact that read “cock sucking whore soulmate”. pressing her phone against her ear, she turned around and leaned back against her car, sighing softly as it went to voicemail.

she sighed, pulling her phone away from her ear once again to call him again. y/n would repeat this action 5 more times before it’d eventually be picked up.

“you’d think you’d give up after the first 3 calls.” max huffed on the other end. y/n figures she called at a bad time, considering the man sounded out of breath. if she focused on the background noise, she could make out the banging of weights and music playing over the speaker that reminded her of the gym.

“are my keys with you? i need to know if the universe has already sent them to you or if i’m blind and don’t see it in my bag.” y/n mumbled, swinging her bag to her front so she could unzip the smallest pocket and sift through it again.

max sighed, but she could tell that the man was walking through the gym - probably to wherever he had his bag - as the background noise decreased in volume. eventually, she heard him unzip something and soon after, the sound of keys jangling came through the phone speaker. “cute charm, princess. but you’re a fucking weaboo piece of shit? really? no wonder you had no idea who i was even though the belt had my name on it.” he groaned.

she felt her face heat up in embarrassment, remembering the multiple keychains she had hanging from her keys. a multitude of charms ranging from different anime series that the girl enjoyed. “and what about it?” she shot back without intending to sound so harsh. it’d be the first time that she’d ever have anyone poke fun at the fact that she enjoyed watching anime - it seemed to be something that everyone her age was into nowadays. “look, just, send it with your friend to this university. i need it so i can drive home.” she huffed.

“no can do, princess. we’re not in the area anymore. if you did your research and knew how to keep track of time, you’d know it’s wednesday and i have a show tonight.” max hummed. y/n wished she could reach through the phone and grab max by his neck so she could choke him out. she could hear how amused the man was by the entire situation. “order yourself an uber. caster and i are flying back tonight so he’ll be able to drop it off around 5 am.”

“5 am?!” she screamed, her voice echoing throughout the parking garage. a group of people walked by her, all trying their best not to look at her but y/n could feel the way they were looking at her in their peripherals.

“i could ship it if you want, but it’d take a few days to get there, princess, and it sounds like you need them as soon as possible.” max replied, a smugness in his tone that y/n had heard many times over the countless videos she had watched of the man in an effort to find any signs of redeemable human being under his persona.

and it only made her want to bring the attitude straight to max.

“fine.” she sighed in defeat, zipping her backpack shut and slinging it back over her shoulder. she began to leave the parking garage so that she could go to her next lecture, deciding that this was a sign for her to not skip class. “you better be the one at my door, not caster. although i don’t know how a guy like him is friends with an asshole like you.”

“what are you, braindead?” max immediately replied, and y/n transferred the call to her airpods so she didn’t have to keep her phone pressed to her ear. “have i not made it clear that i don’t want to meet you?”

“why though? we’re soulmates, are we not? is it not destiny that we meet and become life partners and all that other crap?” she questioned loudly, not caring for the weird looks from the people she passed by as she stormed her way through the campus.

“why? it’s obvious, is it not?” max laughed. his laugh had y/n stopping in her tracks as she listened to the way the man had sounded so genuinely amused that y/n was even questioning him. she hadn’t even realized that she had grown so frustrated that tears had welled in her eyes until she blinked away her blurry vision and felt stray tears roll down her cheeks. “i like to have control of my life, princess. and i know this whole soulmate spiel was determined without my own bidding. i also know that if we were to somehow meet, i’d feel this connection to you, and honestly, i don’t like the fact that the universe thinks it knows who i need in life to be my soulmate. i know myself best and i know that i’d like to choose my own life partner, thank you.”

she gripped the strap of her backpack in her fist tightly, stepping off to the side of the sidewalk so she didn’t get in others’ way as she listened to the man talk. when y/n begged the universe to let her soulmate be someone who was independent and didn’t need to rely on her so that she could still be her own person, she didn’t mean to this extent. “you should also know that platonic soulmates exist. look, i’ve been waiting 21 years of my life to finally meet my soulmate and i’m not taking no as an answer.”

“and i’ve been living 27 years of my life without my soulmate and i’m living my best life. i’m rich, i have my dream job, and i can have my pick out of multiple insanely hot women who throw themselves at me.” max replied without a heartbeat.

she could feel the way her heart fell in her chest. so much for hoping that she'd get someone that was her prince charming as her soulmate. she clenched her jaw and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “bring the keys to my place as soon as you can.” she angrily grunted, ending the phone call and pulling her airpods out of her ears to put them back in her case.

stupid max. she didn’t need him either.

but she’d be graduating in a few weeks time with a degree in design with a concentration in fashion design. she also knew that all elite wrestling were currently looking for a new seamstress after their head seamstress had just retired.

oh, maxwell. the universe had been so right in pairing you with such a soul like y/n’s. if max wasn’t willing to go to y/n himself and meet her, then y/n will just have to bring the fight straight to max herself.

as she made it to her next lecture hall to sit in the empty room for the 25 minutes she had before the actual class would start, y/n had determined that she’d get her portfolio updated and put together and send in her application to all elite wrestling as soon as possible.

|| next part ||

#mjf x reader #mjf imagine #mjf fanfic #mjf fanfiction #mjf #aew fanfiction #aew fanfic #aew imagine #aew x reader

[libby-for-life]

Back by popular demand. Adam gets sick. Part 2. Just some context before we continue. Adam reveals some...startling news about Lilith's true nature in Eden when he was sick with a fever. Onwards....

Lucifer could only stare at Adam's sleeping and exhausted form. Just two hours ago, Adam gave him startling news of Lilith. A huge part of the devil wanted to believe that Adam was lying. He had to be! Lilith, while not sweet, was not outright cruel to anyone in Eden.

But...Adam was in no state to lie. He had never seen the man cry before. Not since Eden. His fever left him unable to tell convincing lies...

Lucifer tugged at his hair. What was he supposed to believe?! A fever plagued Adam or his wife, estranged, for thousands of years? The choice was obvious. Lilith had never steered him wrong. Adam, while maybe not intentionally, was telling Lucifer lies brought on by his fever.

So why was there a nugget of doubt?

Suddenly, Lucifer got an idea. He hadn't used it in forever, but he was able to see memories with enough prodding. He can solve this and be completely sure about Adam's ramblings.

Breathing deeply, Lucifer's eyes glowed a deep red as he entered Adam's mind.

It was messy and cluttered. Exactly how he expected Adam's memories to be. Lucifer shifted through memories as quickly as he could, making sure to not look too deeply at things. Some memories were...graphic.

Finally, he saw a memory that made him stop. A familiar garden...Lucifer eagerly but carefully extracted the memory and watched through Adam's eyes.

'Adam woke up to a bright light. Everything was so colorful and new! He felt the dirt between his fingers, could smell ripe fruit, and saw tall beings with light coming out of them.'

Lucifer hummed. This was Adam's first memory. The day he was created. Sifting through more of Eden, he watched through Adam's eyes how excited he was to see Lucifer. The emotion was bright and held onto deeply. The former archangel blushed when he realized just how Adam thought of him in Eden.

Was this why Adam was always trying to feed him? Or give him flowers and shiny rocks? Lucifer indulged him but he didn't really see the point in them back then.

Moving forward, he came to Lilith's creation. She was made to be equal with him. Lucifer felt Adam's confusion when Sera told him that he must love, protect, and procreate with Lilith. Lucifer never realized just how firm Sera sounded when giving this order. It left no room for argument. No wonder Adam was so determined to have sex with Lilith. Sera made it sound like Adam would be committing a great sin if he didn't.

' "What is love?" Adam asked, gazing at Sera. The Seraphim looked surprised, as if not expecting questions. "Uh, it's when you want to spend the rest of your life together." Sera finally managed to say. Adam looked at the ground. Oh. He didn't want that with Lilith. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lucifer. He must be in love with him!'

Lucifer immediately backed away from that memory as fast as he could with a blushing face. That was far too personal. He felt like he just witnessed something that was trying to stay buried.

He needed to be quick with what he came for. Quickly, he found a memory of Eden with Lilith. They were sitting on a rock as Adam rambled on about how two salamanders raced each other. It was...endearing. Adam seemed so innocent back then. Since he was looking through Adam's eyes, he didn't notice the hand on his neck until Adam was already being choked.

Lucifer gasped as Adam's gaze turned to Lilith. She had an angry look to her. "Do you ever shut up!?" She yelled as she choked Adam.

The First Man tried to pry her hand off, but Lilith had always been strong. "I don't care about some dumb animals! Can't I have any peace from you?!" The memory went blurry and it took a moment for Lucifer to realize it was because Adam was crying.

"I'm sorry!" Adam choked out, his vision growing hazy with the lack of oxygen.

Lilith squeezed one more time before letting go. "Let that be a lesson. No one wants to hear your voice." And then she walked off, leaving him alone. Lucifer. I want Lucifer.

The devil's eyes widened. Adam must've been scared enough to be thinking of him. And why wouldn't he be? He was just choked for apparently talking too much.

He needed to know more.

He watched memory after memory of Lilith hurting Adam for some reason or other. One time, she had threatened to hang him from a tree if he continued trying to be with her. She would slap, kick, and comment terrible things about him. He was...abused. That was the only thing Lucifer could think of. Adam was abused by Lilith and no one seemed to care.

So, when Lucifer found a memory where Adam had found Lilith and him having sex in the garden, Lucifer wasn't surprised that Adam cried silently to himself, the image blurry because of his tears.

Why? Why are they doing that? I thought Lucifer was my friend!

Lucifer winced in guilt. From Adam's perspective, he could see how hurt and betrayed he was. And also the longing. A part of Adam wanted to be Lilith. To have Lucifer caress him and make love to him under the tree.

Lucifer didn't want to see it, but he had come this far and he knew he would be a coward if he didn't. He watched as Adam and his past self fought for the first time.

Lucifer had accused Adam of hurting Lilith, forcing himself on her. Adam was heartbroken at the accusations and glanced at Lilith who had a small smirk. She was playing Lucifer like a fiddle. Adam tried saying that she was lying but Lucifer wouldn't hear it. They left the garden and the devil watched as Adam held the pieces of his broken heart. He watched as bitterness and anger set in. His distrust of women that later turned into misogyny.

He had caused this. Lucifer was the one who made Adam who he was. All because he was too blind to see what was truly going on.

What has he done?

Lucifer came back into himself and he realized that he had been crying as well.

#hazbin hotel #adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #send asks #lilith #tw abuse #garden of eden

[ghcstao3]

(scrapped) hogwarts professor!ghost x zoologist!soap very very old draft but :3 also peep ghost with glasses

-

Ghost’s social life has never been anything spectacular to begin with, but when he somehow manages to become the newest potions professor at Hogwarts, he finds it to be entirely lacking.

The balance he requires among work alone is enough to keep him busy nearly every waking hour of his days, and adding his personal life to his list of things-to-do, Ghost would surely end up with prematurely greying hair. 

(And who is he kidding—he’s already just about reached that point.)

So, it is safe to say that Ghost doesn’t get out much. It’s an unfortunate truth for his first couple of years teaching, but honestly, it isn’t much of a bother. Ghost is mostly happy, if a little stressed, and he’s more than lucky to be in his current position—that’s what he thinks, and that’s all that matters. Work gives him purpose.

At least, it’s all that matters until the universe decides it has other plans and introduces Ghost to a mildly bizarre man by the name of Soap.

Soap (real name currently unbeknownst to Ghost) approaches the professor while he shops for ingredients for a personal potions project. Soap is broad, attractive, and looks like he lives off one too many Invigoration Draughts a day. He greets Ghost with a manic smile in an attempt to act friendly, though the gesture isn’t at all helped by a body otherwise buzzing with energy. Everything about the man screams eccentricity, but then again—Ghost is a wizard. He’s always been bound to meet… interesting people.

“How much might you know about potions?”

Ghost blinks, genuinely surprised. Just from the stranger’s odd behaviour, Ghost had feared he’d earn a proposition, or that here, in the safety of the apothecary, the man would push to sell him something most probable to be illegal. 

But alas. An innocent question.

Ghost shoves the wiry bridge of his glasses further up his nose with his thumb, clears his throat. His fingers curl tight around the vial of mistletoe berries he holds as the stranger waits patiently for a reply.

“Well,” Ghost starts slowly, “considering I teach how to make them for a living, I would hope I’d know a thing or two.”

The man beams, eyes bright with gratitude Ghost is not yet worthy of.

“That’s perfect,” he says. “Then do you think you could help me with something?”

Politely, Ghost nods, though he has to wonder why the man hadn’t just gone to the shopkeep for advice first—but then, with a quick glance to the counter, he sees that said shopkeep is nowhere to be seen. His brows dip in a mild frown, not deep enough to be noticeable to anyone but Ghost himself.

“Alright, so—I have this hippogriff that I’ve been takin' care of and normally she isn’t so restless, but for whatever reason nothing I’ve done has worked to keep her calm for very long,” the stranger explains. “Potions are typically a last resort for me so I’m… I’m not sure what I should be making.”

“Uh,” Ghost says intelligently, sifting through his mind for an answer. He knows, he does, only, “I’ve never administered anything to something that wasn’t a wizard, but it should still work the same, with some adjustments.”

The stranger laughs. “‘It’ being…”

“Right, sorry.” Ghost clears his throat. His face warms with a blush, chest filled with passing embarrassment. He’s meant to be good, knowledgeable about these things. “The Draught of Peace. An anxiety reliever. But it’s a difficult potion to brew. You’d have to be experienced in potion-making to be certain nothing goes wrong.”

The stranger’s face falls. Ghost has already come to learn him to be rather expressive.

“Of course,” Ghost adds in a breath before he can stop himself. He isn’t sure why his mouth is still moving. “I could always make it for you.”

It's unfortunate that he can't find it in himself to regret the offer in any regard, after seeing the sheer and open look of hope it instills on the man's face.

#writing #alternate universe #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #snippet #drabble

[fyonahmacnally]

Keys to My Heart

“Hey, Alex.” Kara calls out as she walks into their shared apartment, a confused look on her face. She drops a small cardboard box onto the island in the kitchen and starts rummaging through it. “Look at all the things I found on the rooftop. It’s weird. It seems like something appears every day. I can’t figure out where it’s coming from. No one goes up there except for me. Well, except our friends when we have parties, but you know what I mean.”

The tell-tale crinkle makes its appearance on the blonde’s face as she continues to pick up each item. She fervently sifts through the rooftop haul mulling over the possible origins in her mind. Surely no one in their apartment building is dumping random objects onto their roof, right? She thinks. Nah, It can’t be on purpose. Why would someone put coins and keys up there? Oh, there’s even a ring! Someone has to be missing that, right? Right?!

Alex leans her head back to glance over the back of the couch into the kitchen to see what her sister is going on about. The redhead can see her sister pulling things out of a box with a very bewildered look on her face. When she sees some of the items strewn across the countertop, she can’t help but laugh. She can already tell this is going to be one of those conversations. She sighs and takes a deep breath before pushing up off the couch. 

Kara’s incredibly intelligent. When it comes to science, languages, math, history, and almost any other academic topic, she is one of the smartest people around. However, the younger Danvers is sometimes lacking in the more practical knowledge that usually comes from interacting with the world and experimenting with boundaries as a teenager. Unfortunately, Kara didn’t really do any of those things. Her little sister led a pretty sheltered life in a remote country before her parents passed away when she was 12. Then, she was so traumatized when she was adopted that the Danvers may have been a bit over-protective. Yet another thing that didn’t do her any favors in collecting the ‘practical knowledge’ she needed to navigate the world. 

“Whatcha got there, Kara?” Alex bemused, wondering what the blonde is going to respond with. “Are you collecting random things off the street? We don’t have much space in the apartment so you can’t go full hoarder on me.” She chuckles as the crinkle on her sister’s forehead gets more pronounced and her head tilts like a confused puppy.

Kara sighs, dropping her chin to her chest before raising her head and her brow at her sister. “Really, Alex? I just told you when I walked in that I found all of this on the roof. You know I’ve been going up there everyday for the past few weeks to feed the crows.” She grins at her sister as they stand side-by-side combing through the loot. She picks up a set of keys and the ring to present to her sister. “They like it when I feed them and I like spending time up there. Anyway, these two things seem to be the most valuable of the odds and ends I found. Someone is surely upset about missing their emerald ring, but the keys to a BMW? Pretty sure someone is outright pissed about that.” 

Alex grabs the BMW key fob and key chain from her sister’s palm, looking at it for any kind of identifying information. “You know, you can take this to any BMW dealership and they can get it back to the owner. These fancy fobs store the car’s service information.” She sits the fob back on the counter and picks up the ring, inspecting it for engraving or some other identifier. “The ring is personalized too. You might be able to post online that you found it and that there is an inscription. The owner will know what the inscription is.”

“That’s a brilliant idea, Alex! You’re so smart.” Kara smiles and starts packing all the little trinkets back into her box. Midway through, she stops and looks at Alex again. “Where do you think this stuff came from? We never see anyone up there and I’ve never run into anybody when I feed the crows. Plus, there isn’t anyone that lives in our building that drives a car that fancy. I mean, maybe someone from one of the office buildings across the street, but how would it get on our roof?” She tilts her head to the side and furrows her brow in thought.

Alex has an internal debate about whether she should tell her sister about crows and their gifting behaviors. On the one hand, it would put an end to the ongoing confusion on her sister’s face. On the other hand, this could be so damn fun to watch. She’s in need of some good entertainment. Her life has been kind of empty since she and Maggie split. She grins, she can’t pass up this opportunity to mess with her sister. 

“Odd. Not sure how those things would get on our rooftop. You sure there hasn’t been anyone else up there?” She watches her sister finish packing her little collection back into its box and drift off into thought. “I mean, sure you haven’t seen anyone, but that doesn’t mean someone hasn’t been up there. You said most of the stuff just started showing up this week, right?”

Kara nods her head. “Yeah, I haven’t noticed anything until this week. I fed the birds on my lunch break Monday then came back down to finish my afternoon at work. When I went back on Tuesday during my break, there were coins and shiny rocks. Today when I went up to feed them, I found the ring and key fob so I just grabbed everything.” She scratches her head and looks back at her sister. “You don’t think someone is stealing things and leaving them on our rooftop to come back later, do you? I mean, I don’t think that would be a very practical thief, but I can’t think of anything else.”

She does her best not to outright cackle at her sister, but she can’t hold back her laughter so she attempts to turn it into a cough that ends up sounding more like a combination of a horse and a pig. Trying to retain her composure, she clears her throat and slides her hands across her face to shield her amusement. “Why don’t you give it another week and see what happens? In the meantime, you can post the ring on Facebook in one of the neighborhood groups and walk over to the BMW dealership down the block to see if they can find the owner of the fob. Maybe by the end of the week, you’ll have it all figured out.”

The blonde smiles and slides the box off the counter to carry to her bedroom. “That’s a good idea, Alex. I’ll get this mystery solved one way or another!” Kara excitedly stomps off toward her bedroom as Alex just shakes her head in fondness at the adorable idiot.

“This is going to be fun to watch.” Alex giggles to herself and her sister practically skips down the hallway. She should probably feel guilty for entertaining herself at Kara’s expense and maybe she will, but right now, it’s just funny to watch. As brilliant as her sister is, she thought she would have read all about crows. Apparently her curiosities don’t extend to the birds she feeds everyday. Giggling again, she heads back over to the couch to resume her evening, looking forward to what the next week brings in her sister’s bird saga.

Lena is running late. Her morning started with a 6:00 a.m. phone call from a client she never wanted to represent in the first place much less speak with before she’s had her goddamn coffee. Then, Lillian shows up at 7:30, knocking on her door. They are supposed to be having lunch at The Italian Affair, a new restaurant that just opened downtown, but her mother felt the need to ‘check in on her’ via an unplanned house call for a reason she still hasn’t been able to decipher. 

Now, she’s driving in downtown traffic trying to get to the office while sipping on a coffee that is definitively not what she ordered. She sighs, exasperated. She knew better than to stop at the chain store and not her normal little coffee shop. Checking her watch again, she groans, at this rate, she is not going to make her 9:30 meeting on time. A perfect way to top off her annoyingly frustrating Thursday.

She presses the call button on the steering wheel of her BMW M8, rolling her eyes at the traffic as she crawls through downtown. “Call Jess.” She speaks into the cabin of the car. 

The line rings three times before her assistant’s voice fills the interior. “Luthor & Lane, LLP, this is Jessica speaking. How may I assist you?”

“Good morning, Jess.” Lena drawled. “Has Ms. Arias arrived yet? My morning was derailed by Mr. Langley and followed up with an unplanned visit from Lillian. Now, I’m stuck in traffic.” 

Jess chuckles. “Sounds like your Thursday morning started with a bang, Miss Luthor.” Lena can hear papers shifting in the background before her assistant continues. “Ms. Arias hasn’t arrived yet, but I will put her in the small conference room if she arrives before you do.”

Lena lets out a sigh of relief. “Is there anything else I need to know? Did you confirm my reservations with Lillian for lunch today?” She glances around the car in front of her, hoping this traffic will suddenly vanish. At times like these, she wishes she had the ability to portal to places instead of driving.

“Your lunch reservation has been confirmed for 12:30.” Jess hums as she shuffles through the messages on her desk until she finds what she’s looking for. “Most of the messages can wait until you get into the office, but I did get a call from National City BMW earlier. Someone turned in your fob yesterday. I scheduled a courier to pick it up and drop it off this morning so you should have it by the time you arrive in the office.”

“Thank, fuck!” Lena huffed. “I still can’t figure out how in the hell they disappeared. Lucy and I were sitting on her balcony on Monday discussing a case. They were sitting on the table next to my laptop. We stepped inside to get food and when we came back, my keys were gone. We were inside for less than 10 minutes, Jess! How can they just disappear like that?!” She throws her hands into the air in frustration.

Jess laughs, she can imagine her boss with a scowl on her face and gesturing wildly inside her car. “At least someone found it. The gentlemen said all the other keys were still on the ring as well. Don’t forget to return the spare to the safe this afternoon in case you need me to bring it to you again.” She does her best to stifle the smile on her face, but is sure that her boss can hear it in her voice.

“Go ahead and laugh, Jess. I know you want to.” She jokes. “If it was you in the situation, I’m sure I would be laughing as well.” She shakes her head and smiles. The situation is amusing, even if it is still perplexing. 

She finally arrives at the office with 5 minutes to spare before her 9:30. Fortunately, Ms. Arias was stuck in the same traffic as she was and hasn’t quite made it yet. She sweeps into her office in a whirlwind, dropping her bag next to her chair and plopping herself into it. Already exhausted and her day just started. 

Lucy peeks her head around the corner into Lena’s office with a questioning look on her face. “You okay, Luthor? You seem a little…frazzled.” She makes her way inside her friend and business partner’s office, easing into the chair in front of her desk as if trying not to startle a cornered animal. “Jess said you had quite an eventful morning. She also said your fob got returned to the dealership. What’s the story there?”

Lena huffs and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yes. My morning has been annoying. I still can’t figure out what Lillian’s angle was this morning. She rarely ever makes surprise visits unless she is scheming.” She groans and drops her head back into her plush leather chair. “I really hope she isn’t trying to set me up on another one of her well-intentioned blind dates again. You remember what happened last time.”

A loud and boisterous belly laugh erupts from Lucy’s small frame. She leans forward in her seat and slaps her thigh with amusement. “Oh, you mean the one with the guy that you said looked like Eddie Munster and Napoleon Dynamite had a baby? What was it you said he talked about the entire time?” 

The mirth shining in Lucy’s eyes made her lips twitch up in a smile, but she did her best to hide it. Lena narrowed her eyes at her best friend and cocked her head to the side. “Well, that’s difficult to say, Lane. The first half of the meal was about his collection of troll dolls.” She rolls her eyes and glares at Lucy. “Then, he spent the rest of dessert going on about the appropriate temperature of the storage unit he keeps them in to prevent any moisture or condensation.”

Lucy laughs heartily, oblivious to her friend’s annoyance. “Yes, that’s the one! I cannot believe your mother thought you would be remotely interested in that guy. She has to know your type by now, Lena. All of the men and women you have dated are leagues different than that guy.” She shakes her head and dabs the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes. “Speaking of, you never told me what she said when you called her out about that set-up?”

“Oh you know, the typical Lillian response of ‘he’s from a good family, dear’ and ‘he’s a little eccentric, but he’s nice’... the usual.” Lena throws her hands up in surrender. “I just want to meet someone who’s honest, fun, and a little nerdy. Is that too much to ask?” She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“People like that don’t just fall from the sky, Luthor. You actually have to go out and mingle in the real world for that to happen.” Lucy chuckles. “It’s not like a bird is going to pluck you for the sidewalk and drop you into their arms! Live a little, Luthor.”

A soft knock sounds on the open door to Lena’s office as Jess peeks her head inside. “Ms. Arias is waiting for you in conference room 2, Miss Luthor. Good morning, Miss Lane.” Lucy smiles and nods at Jess before taking her leave. “The file you need is on your desk underneath your messages. Would you like me to sit in on the meeting?”

Lena grabs the file and flips through it quickly before grabbing her coffee and promptly sitting it back down after remembering how terrible it was. “Yes, I would like you to sit in on the meeting, but can you get rid of that atrocious excuse for coffee and grab me some from the kitchen on your way?” 

“Of course, Miss Luthor. I will be right behind you.” Jess smiles and quickly disappears as Lena takes a deep breath, heading to the conference room for her first meeting.

Kara sighs. It’s been a really long morning filled with nonstop work on a sci-fi novel from one of her newer clients. As much as she loves her work, she needs to take a break. She left a high paying corporate investigator job after she got burned out. Too many years of 60+ hours a week on top of her side job. She’d spent years doing proofreading, copy editing, and ghost writing on the side for extra money. After a while, it started bringing in more work than she could keep up with. After her burnout at her corporate gig, she decided she wanted something different. Here she is working from home, choosing her own clients, and making her own schedule. It’s nice. 

Plus, she still picks up the occasional corporate investigation client too. Mostly work for attorneys. Well, one attorney, really. Lucy Lane. She and Lucy became friends when her cousin Clark started dating Lucy’s sister. They don’t see each other much, but they do text regularly and Lucy’s office is across the street from her apartment so when they work on a case together, it’s very convenient. That reminds her, she needs to check in with Lucy so she sends the brunette a text before she looks back at her computer screen with a huff of exhaustion.

She’s been working non-stop all day and her eyes are starting to feel crossed from staring at her screen for so long. She’s almost done with this manuscript so she’s been trying to power through until the end. The desire to get it back to her client before the end of the day has been driving her, but it seems her eyes have other plans. Leaning back in her chair, she groans as her back pops and cracks after being in the same position for hours. 

“Okay. I need to take a break.” She says to her empty apartment. Shaking her head and laughing she pushes herself away from her desk. “And now I am talking to myself.” She swings by the kitchen to grab the leftover Italian food from the fridge and pop it into the microwave. Then she gathers the things she needs to feed the crows and sits it next to the door. Once she has everything she needs, she heads to the roof with her lunch to take a much needed break and to feed her new bird friends. She briefly wonders if she’ll find any random treasures up there today.

When she opens the door to the rooftop, she smiles. The sun is bright, the sky is a sparkling blue, and the little plants she brought up here give the area a nice little pop of color. There’s also a little table in the corner that has a little umbrella that she stashed up here. That’s where she heads to eat her lunch and enjoy the nice mild weather. She’s just barely finished her lunch and is basking in the sun's warm rays, when the first of the crows makes an appearance. 

Kara smiles. She reaches down and grabs the food she brought for the birds and makes her way over to the edge of the building. For a moment, she just watches the majestic creature. Their eyes meet and Kara realizes how much intelligence the crow’s eyes hold. There is an understanding there that is almost startling. She holds her hand out, her palm filled with fruits, nuts, and vegetables. As many times as she has fed the creatures, she’s never offered it from her hand and she’s interested to see what happens. She can tell the bird is hesitant, but she’s got all the patience in the world. 

Her patience pays off. The crow she has affectionately been calling Raven in her head slowly steps closer to her hand and quickly grabs a piece of fruit before hopping away to eat it. That happens several more times before more birds show up. A peel of laughter bubbles inside Kara’s chest and floats past her lips as the birds eat from her hand. She’s placed more food on the ledge of the building and just watches with wonder as they feast on the treats she brought. The blonde settles in to watch the interactions and antics of her new pals.

Lena is frustrated. This day has been trying her patience from the start. Her last client meeting ran 30 minutes longer than it should have and now she is running late to meet Lillian for lunch. One of the things her mother hates most is tardiness. Her relationship with Lillian hasn’t always been stellar, but they’ve managed to get along reasonably well since both Lionel and Lex are gone. That doesn’t mean Lillian’s snarky tendencies don’t still shine through at times. Of course that generally brings out her own snark and sarcasm - something Lillian has always frowned upon. It still occasionally gets a little nasty between them, but they’ve learned to rein it in over the years. 

When she finally gets parked and makes her way into the restaurant, she can see the irritation all over her mother’s face. She pauses at the hostess station and takes a deep breath before making her way to the stoic woman. Pulling out her chair and taking her seat, she smiles across the table at her mother and apologizes for her tardiness. Surprisingly, there are no petty comments or snide remarks. That alone makes Lena feel uneasy. 

They make it through the meal without any underhanded remarks or any snarkiness. It isn’t until Lillian is signing the receipt for their food that the real reason for her mother’s presence at her home this morning is finally revealed. 

“So, are you seeing someone?” Lillian asks, a neutral look on her face. “Francois mentioned you have been coming home late a lot recently.”

Lena does her best to contain the urge to roll her eyes at her mother, but they have a mind of their own and she feels them nearly roll into the back of her head. She pinches the bridge of her nose for what feels like the 100th time today and sighs. “Mother, why are you talking to the doorman of my building about my comings and goings? No, you know what, I’m going to be filing a complaint. He has no business speaking to anyone about my private business.” She glares at her mother. “Including and especially you.”

A small gasp escapes Lillian as Lena rolls her eyes again at her mother’s feigned offense. “I’m just a concerned mother worried about her daughter’s well-being.” She places a hand on her chest for added effect, again causing Lena to roll her eyes. “Don’t take it out on Francois. He probably thought you talked to me more about your life.” 

“Mother, stop being nosey and stop probing into my private life. I am not seeing anyone. I don’t need your help getting dates and I’m perfectly happy with my life.” She sighs and starts gathering her things to escape this personal inquiry before it turns sour. “In case you have forgotten, I co-own one of the most successful law firms in the city. I don’t have time for your meddling in my personal life. Now, if you will excuse me mother, I need to get back to work.”

They both stand and give their customary air cheek kisses before they part ways. Lena mumbles under her breath about her meddling mother the entire way back to her car and throughout the drive back to her office. She lets out a breath of relief when she parks in her space next to her office building. Finally, she can get some peace from her busybody, gossipy mother. Deep down, she knows that Lillian is trying to show that she cares, but there are so many other ways to go about it. Why she is suddenly focused on her love life is something she can’t figure out. At least she has escaped it for a few more days. She leans forward to press her now throbbing forehead onto her steering wheel and prepares herself for the rest of her busy day.

Grabbing her bag and her keys, she steps out into the glowing sun of the breezy afternoon. She wishes she could bask in the warmth of the rays for a bit before she steps back into her office, but work awaits. Locking her car, she steps onto the sidewalk heading to her office. Her phone starts ringing so she steps to the side and pauses at one of the benches along the sidewalk. Sitting her keys beside her bag, she fishes her phone out to see Lucy’s face staring back at her. 

“Hey Luce, what’s up?” Lena says just as a black bird lands next to her bag on the bench. It startles her a bit, but she doesn’t think much about it. “I’m almost back in the office. I’m on the sidewalk out front.”

She barely gets those words out of her mouth before the creature staring at her from the bench snatches her keys and takes off. At first she is so stunned that she can’t speak. That quickly morphs into a tirade of profanities that has Lucy laughing.

“Lena, what the hell is going on?” Lucy chuckles again.

“Dammit, Lane. It’s not funny! A goddamn bird just flew off with my fucking keys!” Lena angrily spit back at her through the speaker. “I’ve gotta go. I think I know where the little thief went.”

Lucy was still laughing pretty hard on the other end of the phone. Lena just growled and hung up. She was pissed. It makes her wonder if this is how her keys disappeared on Monday. They were sitting outside on the patio table at Lucy’s apartment and the apartment wasn’t far from here. It would make sense if the little thief snatched them and flew to the building across the street. From the looks of it, there is a whole family of what appears to be crows hanging out up there. Regardless, Lena had to get her keys back. 

She tosses her phone into her purse, zips it up, and secures it onto her shoulder. Preparing herself to march across the street and get her damn keys back from that thieving little bird. When she makes it across the road and into the lobby of the building, she finds the elevator out of order. Of course it is, she thinks. That’s par for the course on this shitty day. By the time she gets to the top floor, 6 flights of stairs later, she is out of breath and even more pissed than when she started. 

Kara is having a blast feeding and interacting with the crows. They’re so much more intelligent than she imagined. She’s long since run out of food to give them, but they seem to be chatting amongst each other. It’s interesting to watch their social behavior and which ones seem to be the ‘leaders’ of the group. She’s just considering going back down to her apartment to get back to work when one of the crows lands on the ledge in front of her with something shiny in its beak. 

“Whatcha got there, little fellow?” She coos at the bird. It seems to cock its head sideways in understanding and hops forward to drop the object in front of her. “Oh no. Oh no.” She gasps and looks around the roof. There are several more little gifts up here that weren’t here earlier. It suddenly clicks in her head. The crows have been bringing her ‘gifts’ for feeding them. And it appears they really like this set of keys since she is almost positive it is the same set she just returned yesterday. 

She looks up at the bird still eyeing her. “Um, I do appreciate the presents, buddy. I promise, I do. But, uh, you probably shouldn’t steal people’s keys.” Kara bites her lip. She feels really bad, but has no idea what she is supposed to do about it. “I’m going to have to turn these keys in again and the dealership is either going to think the owner of them is irresponsible or I am some type of odd thief.”

Kara has just finished her one-sided conversation with the bird and is about to head downstairs to walk the keys back to the dealership when the door to the rooftop slams open. It’s so loud that it scares her and sends all the birds scattering into the air. She spins around. One hand flies up to her chest while the other darts out in front of her in some form of protection or surrender. She isn’t sure which. Either way, the keys are dangling from the middle finger of her outstretched hand. 

Her eyes lock onto a pair of the most stunning and mesmerizing eyes she has ever seen. When she finally manages to shake herself from the hypnotizing depths, her own eyes scan over dark inky raven locks pulled back into a high ponytail, pale porcelain skin that seems to glimmer in the sunlight, a jawline that could cut glass, and a curvy, suit clad body. She’s suddenly drinking in absolutely the most ethereal, captivatingly gorgeous woman her eyes have ever had the privilege of seeing. Her brain screeches to a halt and all words promptly vacate the premises. 

Lena throws the door open, her anger simmering under her skin like a snake ready to strike. This is just the icing on the cake of her shit day and she’s ready to fight. Well, she is until she makes eye contact with ocean blue eyes filled with sunshine and starlight. Her body is shocked into stillness. Her heart, previously racing with adrenaline and anger, starts racing for another reason entirely. Her mind starts drowning in the depths of those soulful pools of deep blue sea. Slowly, she shakes herself free from the gaze as her eyes track up to loose blond curls, then back down to full, pouty pink lips, strong broad shoulders, to what appears to be her keys sitting on long tanned fingers, and further to muscular, jean-clad thighs. This is certainly one of the most handsome women she’s ever laid eyes on and she suddenly forgets what she came here for.

Eventually, Kara’s brain seems to unscramble itself and she clears her throat. Keeping her hands up in what she hopes is a peaceful gesture, she takes a step toward the mystery woman. “H-Hi. I’m, um, Kara. K-Kara Danvers. I’ve never seen you in the building before. Do you, uh, live here?” She glances around, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. “I’ve, um, met most of the people in the building before and uh, I w-would have remembered m-meeting you. I’m sure of that. Y-You’re v-very p-pretty.” She snaps her mouth shut and can feel her cheeks burning as she lowers her eyes and starts to fidget with her hands.

That’s when she remembers the keys in her hand. “Oh. I need to take these to the dealership again.” She says, removing the key ring from her finger and moving to put them in her pocket. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need to know that.” She chuckles nervously, feeling the heat climb up her neck.

A smile crawls across Lena’s face. This woman, Kara, is adorable. She can’t help but be enamored with this incredibly cute and undeniably attractive blonde. “I’m Lena. Lena Luthor.” She steps closer, continuing until she’s roughly two feet in front of the endearing stranger. “And I am pretty sure those are my keys.” She chuckles and points at the hand that is now fidgeting with the dangling keys. 

“Oh! OH!” Kara says and turns her hand over to offer the object to Lena. “The, uh, the crows brought them to me.” She points over her shoulder to the empty rooftop behind her. 

Lena laughs, takes her keys, and nods her head. “Yes, I know. The little bastard stole them right off the bench across the street when I was trying to grab my phone.” She dips her head down to gather herself, trying to will herself not to blush from the simple brush of their skin in the exchange of the keys. Raising her eyes back to the blonde, she smiles in amusement. “I’m guessing this is the second time my keys have made it up here? You’re the one that returned them yesterday?”

“Um, yes. That was me.” Kara giggles, this was not what she expected to happen today. A gorgeous stranger whose laugh makes her soul smile, whose eyes make her heart dance. “I’m sorry my little crow buddies keep taking your keys. I didn’t even know they would do things like that until today.”

“Yes, they are incredibly smart animals. I’ve watched a few documentaries about them. They’re pretty fascinating.” Lena blushes again. She internally face-palms. Why is she saying things like this?! Get a grip, Luthor. You know how to talk to pretty women without being a complete dope. “Sorry. I watch a lot of documentaries. I’m a big nerd at heart.”

Kara beams, a giant toothy grin. “I love documentaries! I’m a big nerd too. We should watch something together sometime and compare notes.” She snaps her jaw closed again and feels the heat claw its way up her chest, her neck, and onto her cheeks. She drops her head and stuffs her hands into her back pockets before swallowing hard and forcing her eyes back up. “I mean, if that’s something that you’d like. You don’t really know me and I realize that might seem kind of weird so feel free to just ignore that if you, um, want to.” 

Before Lena can stop herself, she is reaching on to place her hand on Kara’s bicep. She bites her bottom lip when she feels the bulk of the muscle under her palm. She quickly shakes her head and removes her hand. “It’s okay, Kara.” She clears her throat and smiles, feeling her cheeks heating again. “I think I’d like to compare notes sometime.”

She glances at her watch and curses internally. “Unfortunately, I have to get back to work right now since I found my keys.” She jingles her keys and drops them into the purse as she digs out one of her business cards and passes it over to Kara. “But, I’d definitely be okay with you calling to set something up.”

The blonde's eyes go wide as she takes the card and glances down at it. A small gasp escapes, her eyes bouncing between the card and Lena several times before a toothy, lopsided grin fixes itself on her face. “You’re Lucy’s business partner!”

Lena tilts her head and raises a brow in question. “Indeed, I am. She’s also my best friend. Do you know Lucy?” It would be just her luck that she meets this gorgeous woman and she’s already had an entanglement with her best friend. That would track perfectly with the days she’s had. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before. I’m sure I would remember you.”

“Lucy and I have known each other for years. Her sister is married to my cousin, Clark.” She smiles at Lena. “Plus, I’ve done some work for her on a few corporate cases. I used to be a corporate investigator with Jones Investigative Services. I still do some contract work for her occasionally. To be honest, I am surprised we haven’t met before now.”

The raven haired attorney is stunned. She’s heard Lucy talk about Kara, but never knew her last name or saw a picture. While Lena and Lucy have known each other since law school, they never really spent much time around each other’s family by design. They both have complicated relationships with their families and liked that they could commiserate about it with each other while keeping it separate. Now she’s mad at Lucy for keeping this beautiful woman from her for so long.

“I’m surprised we haven’t met before either. I’ll have to give Lucy a hard time about that.” She winks at the blonde and steps back toward the door. “I really do have to get back to work though. I hope this isn’t the last time we talk.”

“I hope not either.” Kara says as she watches Lena disappear down the stairs and fixes her eyes on the business card in her hand. 

#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #romcom #romantic comedy #meet cute #fanfiction writer #fanfic writing #supercorp fanfiction #supergirl fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #writer #writers on tumblr

[mayorofthegalaxy]

The Cat Part II

Warnings; the reader is amab, near car accident, that’s it.

“Okay, brother I know you said you won’t tell where, but will you tell what circle of pride? I won’t guess! I promise!” Charlie exclaims, you only smile noting her new record of fifteen minutes into the road trip to ask, you hum she’ll see the signs for sixth tunnel soon anyway, so why not?

“Sure, before I answer, have any of you been past the fifth circle?” You ask giving them all a glance in your review mirror before looking at the road again. “Oh! I want to go first! Please Brother?!” Charlie begs jolting keekee from Charlie’s lap to Vaggie’s, startling the grey skin girl from her resting state to pet the unnatural animal to calm down,

“I’m sure you don’t have to ask, Char.” Dad says from the very back.

“Right, hehe. Never past the sixth, like dad says.” Charlie announces showing off her ivory fangs, “That’s my girl.” He says with a grin, “How about you son?”

“Nothing past seventh, for real estate~!” You sang “You know the Rattlesnake community don’t want to live in burrows because of all the lava? I cannot *wait* to start designing!” You beam, clenching the steering wheel almost breaking it, until you feel the back of Alastor’s fingers on your cheek.

His touch doesn’t change your mood and definitely does not keep you from chuckling to yourself while driving a little faster almost to the sixth circle tunnel, “I’ve raised a real estate businessman monster.” Dad smirks chuckling to himself, you don’t feel the mildly concern stares the others give you.

“Well! I’ve only been in one through five. But I have heard wonderful things from circles six through nine.” Alastor chirps, as he knows that the higher circles are where the native beings of pride stay as his new home with you is in the fifth.

“Twisted wonderfully I’m sure! What lies past the sixth is so dangerous Satan would need more arms than he already has!“ Dad enlightens them smirking with pride that only his ring have twisted wonderland.

“Right, and which circle are we going to again?” Angel ask pushing his head between Alastor’s and your seat, looking at you with a raise brow.

“Well my curious fellow, we’re going to spend our week in the sixth ring!” Alastor answers.

“That wouldn’t have twisted whatever right?”

You shoot one arm across Angel with your hand flat on Alastor’s chest stomping on the brakes but not turning the wheel to the side, you stop in time for the red blob to bounce on top of the hood making a louder sound then it should, then landing somewhere else instead of being ran over.

“Jesus Christ Y/n! What the hell was that for?!”Angel yells fixing his footing to be back in his seat.

“Did anyone else hear that? Did we hit somebody?”Vaggie ask, taking off her seatbelt and sifting through the windows near, her hand on Charlie’s head soothing the locks.

“I hope they’re okay!” Charlie exclaim, taking off her seat belt and pick up Niffty ignoring that she was giggling to herself. Dad slithers from the back past the drinking Husk to the front, peering out the other side of windows standing next to Angel Dust he narrows his eyes.

“So, did you see where they went?”

You roll your eyes to dismiss the jibe, your fingers reach the red head’s jaw playing along the structure his flesh cooling your fingers. Alastor tilts his head to the touch his eyes not leaving Lucifer, knowing this will drag out because of Charlie’s heart he’ll need to push this along.

“Mm, I’m sure the thing is alright, even if I don’t sense it.” You try also peering at Dad.

“Oh! Did you kill it?!” Frighten Charlie skitters out the door, her locks constantly moving for the body that should be near, your orbs narrow at her sunshine locks your fangs grinding, Dad and some follow Charlie aiding in searching.

“There’s no need for that mon cher, come I’m quite intrigue at the thing out there.” His voice soothing the crashing sounds in your mind, you sigh, stepping out. You keep in stride with the taller male you cease on the sidewalk leaning against bricks of a shop, enjoying shade you hum summoning Mr. Donut the yellow noodle on your shoulder slithering to hold your neck his face meeting your fingers.

Alastor leers into an alley, smirking as he watch those sinners run and tumble away he shrugs with a slight giggle, who ever made this ruckus must be alright. He should hurry this along to sooner reach the Cabin. “Alastor, why isn’t Y/n helping? Is he tired?” Vaggie questions the casual dress demon looking at the alley dirty concrete for fresh blood.

“Do you have siblings, my dear?” His static buzzing in tone with him, grey filling the corner of his eye.

“Uh— Technically yeah, but no I don’t count it. You?” She retorts, her fingers adjusting in grip of her spear. “No. And that’s just it my dear, we won’t understand that bond..” He hums turning to the blonde demon belle and Angel searching in the distance.

You sigh breaths stuttering from your lips turning to lean heavily on your shoulder, about to tell Charlie to cut her loses, Mr. Donut hisses cradling your ear messing with the hairs around it his body tightening around your torso your digits running down the scales of his spine.

Mr. Donut slithers past your ear and under your chin wrapping fully around your shoulders leering at the thing that caught his senses, tilting his head at the red and black creature with the face of his other master he hiss loudly not sensing transformation magic. The back of your hand is put under him leading him to be in front of your eye line his slits remain unchanging, you follow his glaring turning to face this creature animal that is just as adorable as your lover, your eyes not leaving it’s unblinking ones.

“Holy shit this thing made an imprint! And it looks like red lanky creep!” Angel Dust calls, since nobody else is looking around the car, some others around Charlie returns the stare. Charlie is the first to reach the hood gasping at the sight that the creature even have Alastor’s monocle, Lucifer joins in Angel’s laughter leaning onto Charlie Vaggie doesn’t see the humor in this and only rise her brow shaking her head at thoughts coming in her mind.

Alastor appears beside Angel Dust humming at the damage he’ll fix the damage after you calm down and have a laugh, you appear in front of him facing every one holding his red look alike that’s a cat? Perhaps hybrid, by the scruff of its neck leering at it eye level to your slit irises, Alastor tilts his head his ears following suit.

“Holy shit! That's adorable!”

“Nope.”

“Holy Smokes, that’s an ugly cat.”

“No way that’s a cat, what the fuck is it?”

“What a big smile, it’s even foaming at the mouth.”

“A small sir to be friends!”

“We’ve found it, In the car we’re leaving.” You sigh out handing the unsettling creature to Charlie her hands around it gingerly they settle well in her arms, but it does stare at dad even as they all go inside the car hopefully for the last time today.

“Aww, I’ll name you Caster.” Charlie coos, her fingers playing with its paws, Husk being in the car the whole time raise his brow to the second smaller Alastor at Angel when he returns to his seat in exchange the spider shrugs shaking his head.

You nod at the name enjoying it you smile as you open the door for Alastor noticing the lack of face on your car. With him and you finally inside, it does not take you long to start the car and finishing the journey to your family Cabin.

->Time skip<-

Charlie leans her head against the window her locks being a cushion even if it’s in a different style from usual the hairs on her shoulder being pawed at from the stray her eyes remain outside, with the car on the bridge heading towards their vacation surely she’ll spot the signs where they going.

She’ll admit she did not want to ask with the thought of jinxing the car to stop once again today, she couldn’t have that and stayed comfortable with Vaggie leaning on her shoulder holding KeeKee she didn’t want to move anyway. Her waiting rewards her while she is appreciates her city in this Carmine color she sees only one circle on the highway sign that makes sense, circle six the Morningstar Cabin.

Charlie grins her hand on her cheek peering at the up coming tunnel she can already see the surrounding forest, she giggles looking towards you and when she catches your gaze she beams wider when you grin back.

“The perfect getaway right? I’m happy we’re doing this.” Dad chimes, his voice lulling her into the past she smiles at him laying her forehead on his cheek.

“Holy shit! So this is the sixth circle, huh short prince?” Angel exclaims, rolling down the window and poking his head out not aware that Hell can come in these cool hues, even smelling nature he wouldn’t thought to smell again.

“Yeah, what comes beauty is hidden thorns.” You breath taking the sights as you ride along the river coast on one side the other is a slope of towering trees, you smile you may be a real estate monster you’ll never let anyone change the home of your much happier memories.

“Darling, you mean this forest can threaten powerful souls?” Enjoying the showcase of fangs you show to him “They would never be found again, my dear.” You respond his grin is that much wider.

Alastor peer upon the more residential area of the circle, the majority being elite Hellborns and Imps, he marks down a butcher he would like to visit and perhaps the shops as well he giggles new methods and plans to pace yourself from stress.

Your eye catch him mid giggle raising your brow you feel bad for whomever he’s thinking of with a roll of your orbs, you continue along the smooth road taking a few turns the woods remain the same with lavish manors and castles far between.

You slow to a crawl with the grand gates in front with your last name a glow, Dad starts first his head appearing above the middle console snapping his fingers, you join in grinning Charlie beams finishing the rhythm. The gates open seamlessly for you all, the path you take is long for fifteen mph the property having a few acres with a healthy garden trees and a lake, you do not have to worry about the wild life either with fifteen foot long stone walls.

Alastor notes that this isn’t a traditional wooden cabin he expected large stone walls, wood log beams with excellent multiple window placement, grand and hopefully no tacky circus decor. You park in the garage giddy with every breath you take, putting the keys in your void.

“Come on Vaggie! I can’t wait to show you our room.” Charlie beams dragging the poor girl out the garage luggage in hand.

“Imma get a room with a balcony.” Angel sings following Charlie with Husk on his tail and Niffty is gone. You prance to the trunk for your luggage when you stop to see Caster lounging on them, the cat laying his head on his paws the tail swaying lazily. You smile reaching for his fluffy ears—

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that, son. The beast got rabies.” Dad notes, you hum you’ll train him to not bite later. Caster lets out static jolt of sound jumping on your arm and going to land on dad who yelp running behind you, you leer at the beast on the floor who’s grin gotten smaller, you pick him up by the scruff.

“My, seems like Caster is defensive.” Alastor rang a smug smile on his lips, “Oh, what's there to be defensive of!” You add with a chuckle, you keep hold of Caster while your darling snap away the luggage.

“In the morning I’m making pancakes, but not for him.” Dad taunts the mini beast grabbing his case and closing the trunk and disappearing further inside. You adjust the cat to be more comfortable in your one arm while the other wraps around your darling hip, leading him to your room.

End of Part II

#hazbin hotel #male reader #alastor x male reader #y/n Morningstar #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #angel dust #vaggie #husker hazbin hotel #niffty #cursed cat alastor

[thewrittingpan]

Painting Lies 3

Phinks x reader, Fetain x reader, Shalnark x reader

Tigger and content warnings include but are not limited to: blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, abuse, mental health issues, trauma

Wc: 6501

Tumblr links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Ao3: Here

You think you remember the two blonds being there, but you also remember your legs being twice their usual size. Honestly you just stared at the ceiling for a bit wondering what the hell was going on in your head. For all you know you did get into a fight with a giant blanket yesterday but also you felt like you had somehow completed an entire treasure collection in that game you played. Everything in the dream was too close to reality for your liking.

“Hey Phinks?” You looked out into the hall to see if he was up.

“What?” The door across the hall from you opened.

“Weird question, did we have a staring contest during dinner or did I dream that?”

“That kind of happened.” he went to close the door.

“Okay, did you play video games yesterday with me watching?”

He looked at you terribly confused, “no?”

“Did we set up the table?”

“No, shalnark did.”

“Did I go to the basement? Does the basement have a whole art studio too? Because I dreamed there was like some art supply store or something in it and I feel like I'm going insane.”

“Yes to both.”

“Okay okay, now the part that ia really fucking with me is that i swear i woke up in the middle of the night-”

“You did.”

“-and you and the other guys were there-”

“Correct.”

“Then I got kissed goodnight by the three of you? And like some drink that you see moms in movies make for kids after a nightmare?”

He stood looking at you, you had no idea what he was thinking, honestly he looked as confused as you were.

“That didn’t happen, those two just wanted to see you before leaving.”

“Weird.” You mumbled to yourself. “It all felt like stuff that happened or could have.”

Everyone had dreams that left them confused when they woke up, or well you think everyone does. Waking up from them can vary, like with every other kind of sleep. When it came to “what the fuck happened who am I” level of confusion dreams waking up in anyway that left you dazed was not a good thing. What you personally think is worse is when you don’t feel like you have been asleep, or when you think you haven't had a dream.

Your thoughts fizzled out until you could have been a cartoon character with smoke coming out of their head. Confusion sticks, the whole day would probably feel off, and hell you might just fall back asleep with how just trying to think through it all was driving you mad.

“Are you going to spend time around the house or in your room?” Phinks was leaning against the door frame.

“Oh-“ you sifted through your ideas to keep yourself entertained.

There were the new games you’ve been given, but the clearly visible camera in your room had been creeping you out. You had some books but part of you couldn’t stand the idea of reading at the moment, something in your bones felt like they couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit to read. Maybe you could draw- there was that sketch you wanted to paint.

“I might go paint something?” You asked him.

It felt like you were allowed to go paint down there whenever, or that was the ideal goal they had with showing you it. Though there was something about this house, even with Shalnarks advice of Phinks being surprisingly soft, you felt like you were standing on an inch of ice and it was already waiting to break.

He nodded, “Not a bad idea, just don’t go past the curtain, Fetain doesn’t like anyone touching his things. I’ll make something simple to eat, I’m not much of a cook so you’ll have to put up with it or make your own food.” He walked past you towards the kitchen, “I’ll stay down there to make sure you don’t go poking around in things you don’t want to see.”

Yeah totally not threatening or creepy in the slightest. Hell part of you felt like a horror movie character right now, that vague warning only made you want to see what was down there. As you gathered your sketches your mind ran wild. The stairs in this unfinished basement were creaky wood. You looked at your feet as you descended, the wood was nice and sanded, with no nails that you could notice. Yet your mind drew with jagged lines, poorly put together stairs covered in splinters. That would be too empty, not enough visual interest but something could be drawn from those mental images of stairs. Maybe if something was spilling down the stairs it would be interesting, something twisted hidden in the shadows or beneath the stars themselves, something hard to notice but once you do it’s shocking.

You pulled out a pre-stretched canvas. For a while your hands hovered over two, each size would have its benefits, the smaller ones could make the figure have a “weaker” tone. Though the larger would allow the grotesque details you were longing for. Yet you could alter your concept slightly and “zoom in” on a smaller canvas, get up close and personal with the spine. You propped them both up so you could more easily compare them while sorting through your sketches. You tore them from the sketch book with a strange chaotic need. They were spread out across the cold concrete floor. Scattered and overlapped so they could all be seen without taking up much space. It was a kaleidoscope of paper and ink, and you were the crazed lunatic who had created it.

“You’ll have to pick those up when you finish painting.” Phinks stepped down the stairs holding a large plate full of scrambled eggs and waffles. “Or do you think you’ll need to have them spread out while working?”

“Do you have tape?” You asked, “Something stronger than a basic office tape, I could hang them on the wall?”

“Eat some, I’ll find some.”

The food was weirdly over and under done. The waffles had parts that were slightly more runny than they should be but the eggs were concerning. Parts were crispy and almost burnt, while the rest was fluffy, almost as if he had gotten distracted and almost made a bad omelette.

“Duck tape and packing tape.” He placed one roll of each on the table beside you.

“Oh, thanks, that’ll work fine.”

He was quiet, but it wasn't the same way Fetain is. Fetains silence was a threat, one you had grown used to. He had this weight to him that was impossible to ignore when alone, though he easily blended in and was easy to ignore in a group. Phinks was almost the opposite. You never noticed him when it was just him, though that didn’t mean you trusted him in the slightest. There was a comfort to him, familiar almost, half memories of moments with an old friend or a split second where you almost felt like you were sitting in the room with a long forgotten family member. Warmth tried to spread through you, you desperately wanted to trust him when you felt the familiarity, but how could you when you knew nothing about him.

You taped away. Deformed figures, haphazard diagrams and sketches of anatomy from memory. While each sketch held some semblance of a thought, a firework of an idea, sometimes you found that the best ideas grew when you worked without a clear thought. Molding fog and light created forms and shapes that you may overlook, sometimes you could compare them to an instinct, or a deep need to connect with something you had yet to fully understand.

These things made the beginning difficult but one of the most fun parts of it all. Every thought could be quickly scribbled out, fulfilling the urge to create, but not held back by perfection. It was wild, untamed, which made it unpredictable. A great idea could last a second before flickering out while a bad one could haunt you, not because the idea’s roots were rotten but because the branches had been infested by a failure to succeed.

You stared at the sketches of green bruises. The needles poked through skin, emerging from the bones themselves. Single drops of blood would sit atop the skin, staining it, drying deeply into the grooves. If the dirt and grime of the depicted horror went untreated it would stain not only the mind, but cling to the body like death itself, unable to be removed with hours upon days of scrubbing. It would always feel dirty, and you could always end up permanently stained.

This gorey twist that you adapted in your work was a little strange, even you had to admit it. You didn’t like the idea of torture porn when it came to horror movies, which some found surprising, clearly you didn’t hate it, but there had to be something gained from it. In your pieces you wanted each graphic mark to mean something, there needed to be a story you could read into if you wanted, but often they became reflections of struggles. It was relaxing, in the way that snapping and throwing something can make you sigh and sob after the frustration was finally released.

The thing about art is that it sucks ass. While it can be a weight off your shoulders and drain all of the stress out of you, it could just as easily make you want to stab someone’s eyes out. Staring at pins and needles for long enough just made you want to see your eyes shut so you didn’t have to see them everywhere else. Even closing your eyes made you think of the horrible blotchy shading that just did not want to work because you didn’t think and added too much water to your paints. Hell every time you groaned in frustration your fucking kidnapper look scared. So you tossed the brushes in the sink and worked on scrubbing out the paint before you ruined them right away.

“Do you usually work in these long multiple hour sessions?” He asked you over the sound of running water.

The water was cold, dangerously so. Your fingers toyed with the hair gently mixing small amounts of soap into it. This rhythmic movement helped calm you down and get out of the “holy mother of cats why won’t things go right” headspace that you got stuck in.

“Yeah, that’s common, anything less than three is an oddity.”

“I guess I just didn’t understand how hard it was.”

“Every job is kinda like that.”

You left the brushes on a spread out towel to dry. The pallet of rapidly drying paint was still there and there were a few reasons for why you didn’t clean off the paint; it’d ruin the plumbing, it was half dry anyways, you didn’t care, and it was fun to peel off later. If that little thing could give you some control maybe it would be worth it to wait and try to earn a way out.

Part of you felt like you were giving up too easily, that you had already lost your will to fight when you woke up that first day. Yelling at yourself wouldn’t do anything and you knew that but you felt like it was your fault. Perhaps you’re just the circus elephant tied to nothing. Yet you didn't blame yourself, or at least not as much as you think you were supposed to. Playing along and being good allows for you to be taken as a cute little pet that might be too frightened to try anything. Maybe other kidnappers are different.

You looked at Phinks from when he was leaning back in the folding chair balancing on its back legs. He was large, so much strength loomed over him, making him seem like the biggest in the room. Some damn part of him made you both think he was some jockey asshole like in movies and tv, or some large warm hearted man, though the latter seemed like a stretch.

“You’re starring again.”

“I’m thinking.”

“About?”

You gathered up the sketchbook you had ripped a handful of pages out of. You should lie. Shalnark said something like “he wasn’t perceptive” right? What if you were wrong? What about telling the truth? Would he kill you in anger? Slam you into the wall? Be the manifestation of the shadows from the covered half of the basement that had been driving you crazy, pulling you back and deep down into its maw, screaming as you die from-

“Just say it, I’m in a good mood, I don’t want it ruined with some anxiety attack because you’re scared to say someth-.”

“I don’t know how to feel.” You didn’t turn back to him as you walked towards the stairs, stopping at its feet, so he knew you weren’t trying to run away. “I don’t want to upset you or the others and risk dying or something arguably worse. I feel like everything has to be said correctly or not at all so I don’t find out someone is secretly more delusional than a damn LSD trip.”

You heard the chair squeak a bit as he stood up and walked towards the stairs, he didn’t stop like you and slowly started climbing them, slowly so you could continue.

“I should be scared, angry, maybe I should try to kill someone, or myself, try to escape? I don’t know, I can’t do any of those. I don’t want to, I hate how nice my room was, there was so much thought, so much detail, it felt so real, so close to my messy room. It creeps me out, enjoying the food, the room, the clothes, even the personal products make me feel like I graduated from a top academy with no debt and no depression.”

You lead him down the hall towards the living room. “I haven’t even looked outside you know, somehow I feel like it’ll make or break the dream. I think it might make me try something stupid, make me snap or something. I want to feel okay but I don’t, and when I don’t want to feel okay I do!” You ripped the curtain open, startling yourself.

“Did the window change anything?”

Woods. Beautiful moss covered trees that stretched far. The fire kissed trees rained down their leaves and it looked gorgeous. It reminded you of that date with the cats, the betrayal, of this fuck up of yours. It was something akin to heaven in your eyes, a perfectly twisted picture.

“I miss home.” You said finally tears slipping through your horribly masked emotions. You turned from the window stepping away from its bright light and into your dark room. You didn’t close the door fully behind you, it was very easy to look through the gap.

The blankets were smooth but when you burrowed into them to avoid everything, they felt fluffy against your skin. Even as your breath filled the underneath of them with hot air that felt suffocating, you accepted it with open arms. Stale warm air was unpleasant but it felt like the first warmth you’d felt in eons. The world outside this nest was cold and cruel, and you felt chained to the bed the more you thought about it.

The room's gentle darkness left you thinking as you tossed and turned. You fought back sobs but didn’t care about the tears that leaked down your face. Your sweetest boy laid next to you, his paw resting atop your hand as you faced him and the wall. You longed for the comfort of your real bed, sitting on the small balcony with your cat as he stared wide eyed at the birds.

Maybe you could have avoided this. Maybe if you had kept to yourself, avoided people like you had grown accustomed too, you could have continued your life. It didn’t change the fact that you were here now, but you were haunted by it. Those dark eyes at the damn exhibit. Why did it have to happen? Were you a fool? Were there any signs that you could have noticed? No matter how much crying you did or didn’t do you hated every second you were left to think about anything. Each damn second made you manic, and every other one made you depressed and unable to move. You felt so nauseous that soon you just vomited and sat on the bathroom floor headhung as you finally sobbed.

It was loud and obnoxious, you were lucky only one other person was home. It bounced off the walls. Phinks could definitely hear you. It was the kind of sob that was scratchy and full of angry screams, perfect for a tantrum that would destroy everything in a close area. You felt like a toddler who had been told no when asking for candy, a brat who wanted something. It felt like you were the problem even if you were just a victim of your surroundings. Yet you screamed and cried until your throat was sore, until it felt like it could have been bleeding, and you choked on the bubbling sobs as snot filled every airway.

You laid in a puddle of yourself, not moving when the front door opened and slammed shut. Unblinking as keys jingled down the hall with heavy footsteps. Looking with tired weak eyes, up at Phinks who stood, with plastic bags in hand, his face red and his eyes looking at the wall instead of you.

“It’s late, Fei and Shal want you to have a routine but they're not here… come stay up late and watch a movie or something? Shal bought some of your favorites and ones you’ve talked about! I have some chocolate, or popcorn if you’d like? I’m not sure what you all like when it comes to movie snacks…”

Your voice was so scratchy it hurt to hear you speak. “Please…” you whined as he helped pull you up and onto the living room couch.

He handed you the bags, a multipack of tissue boxes, an assortment of chocolate, popcorn, beer, teas, sodas, chips... You dug through it all and he returned with blankets in hand and a stuffed animal he knew you were attached to, that they all knew you were attached to.

He sat next to you, draping the blankets over you. He pulled a box of tissues out handing one to you. “Use the bag as a garbage bag for now.” He laid out everything haphazardly. He gently pulled your head down onto his lap and pressed the remote into your hand.

The blue glow of the tv puts you to sleep soon enough. It didn’t matter if it was one movie or ten, you were asleep, as soon as you were Phinks was too. You used his lap as a pillow, and Phinks leaned back, his head tossed over the couch’s back, his mouth hung open with a light snore as the tv eventually turned itself off.

In the morning you woke up when the keys turned to open the door’s lock. It made you jolt awake as the door was pushed open. Shalnark was clicking through his phone as he carried in a handful of something.

“Oh, you’re both up? How was the movie night?”

You sunk into the blankets giving back into your exhaustion. “Okay.”

You said it mostly to avoid any upset feelings on his end, the movie night was a nice way to avoid it all. You hated it considering everything, but those few hours of just zoning out at the tv and falling asleep to your favorite movies made you fell like home. You could imagine it so vividly it is what lulled you to sleep, the house didn’t have that smell of the three men, it was your home filled with cat fur, paints, and gesso.

You could feel the canvas frame from when you had to custom build one for a commission. Having to stretch it yourself, and you struggled to pull it back enough for it to hold well. The frame was obnoxiously large, you couldn’t fathom how they had the money to commission it or why they’d need one this size. That one had become a secret favorite, it was in someone’s private collection, an anonymous commissioner. You remember them sending someone to pick it up, which was strange, but if someone had that money how weird could it really be?

“Fei will be appearing soon, he has to drag something down to his office.” Shal giggled to himself speaking without catching his breath. “He’s surprisingly very interested in the work he brought back. It’s like a cat that got a hold of a mouse and doesn’t want to let it go.”

He set his envelope of papers down on the table, and sat down next to you on the couch. He was in front of you really, your back pressed firm against the couch nearly sinking into the cushions and the framework. Shalnark was turned slightly so he could face you and Phinks easily, his knees pressed against the front of the couch and one of Phinks’ knees. He breathed in deeply, his breath pushing both his stomach and chest out, he sort of chuckled as he sighed and leaned over to rest his head on the sofa’s back next to Phinks’ shoulder.

“I missed being home.”

Phinks and you didn’t say anything in response. Maybe Phinks secretly hated Shalnark, well, obviously not, but his silence kind of confused you. He cared deeply about the two from what you could tell, but who's to say you were ever good at reading the room. Your view upwards was obstructed by Shalnark hovering-leaning over you. Phinks moved his arm, you could see its shadow crossover you briefly, but you didn’t see what he did. Shalnark sat there resting with the two of you, this serene glazed look to him. He looked so pleasant, his hair hanging in his face, and his eyes closed.

He did eventually move, while he seemed content that was in no way comfortable to sit there for long. Shal eventually collected his things and ran off to go put them away. You gathered up the mess from the night before. Phinks took the trash out, you saw the cement steps out front as the door opened, and cool air rushed in to kiss your cheeks. The cat with wide eyes watched him complete his chores from the window, while you avoided looking at them. It was easier to stay busy with wiping the table and stacking the coasters in a neat pile in the center.

You kept wiping the table. Slow circular motions as you dazed off. The window just hurt you. Its clear glass was a mirror of your betrayal and gentle suffering, every damn time you saw that view it reminded you of the damned date. That date would remind you of his hands in your hair as you sobbed into his lap. What kind of suffering is this all? To be cursed with the inability to act, but blessed with a comfort of home and kindness. though it came from triplet tyrants. What tragedy had you fallen out of?

You went about giving yourself chores, dusting the shelves and tv stand, sweeping the kitchen floor, making a few pancakes with a box mix you had found, then cleaning up the mess you had made. Your hour or two of small chores only could keep you distracted for so long. You could hear Shalnark from his room, typing away on a keyboard and flipping through papers. When you walked past the basement you could hear things being moved around. It was faint and muffled, almost like you were hearing things, you wanted to go down there, the curiosity haunting you, but I’d anyone scared you the most it was Fetain.

You pushed open Phinks’ door. He had looked up at you as you did, but he didn’t say a thing, just motioned for you to come in. It was simple, navy sheets that were wrinkled, a strange mixture of pillows that didn’t have matching cases. There were some clothes lying around the room and the closet was open. He had a simple fold up chair in the corner and some green running jacket thrown across it. He didn’t have curtains, just the plastic blinds though some were bent and damaged. The closest thing to decoration was a digital clock on a wooden stool made bedside table and high quality at home gym equipment on the floor and tucked away into the closet.

“Need something?”

“I’ve never seen your rooms.” You half ignored the question, “and I don’t want to work on my painting when Fetain is working.”

He hummed, and you sat down on his bed looking at his window with the blinds pulled shut. “I hate it,” you said quietly to yourself, not knowing fully what you meant. “I might drive myself crazy. I keep trying to make things make sense, but I don’t get it.” You flopped down and rolled over, you didn’t look up at his face, didn’t acknowledge if he was looking at you or listening. “I think I’m ignoring half of everything to try and pretend that I’m okay.”

His hand rested on your head, his fingers playing with your hair. “You’re putting up with it well, though coming from me that doesn’t mean much.”

You grabbed his hand and his shirt. Pulling yourself up, straddling his waist. “Why couldn’t you have killed me? Torture me? Why not just make my life a real living hell? I feel like I’m burning but there’s nothing there, I keep thinking I’m drowning but I’m not!” Your hand trailed up to his neck, your nails pressing into his jugular, as you pinned him down to the bed. He laid there with his eyes wide but he didn’t move. “Please give me a good reason to hate it here! Please, I can't understand what’s going on! I didn’t ask for this. I don't know what I’m here for!” you screamed at him, though it wasn’t loud, just desperate. “I can’t do anything.”

His hand grabbed your hip and his other grabbed your neck, and he flipped the roles so he was hunched over you. His nails pressed into your skin. There was no weight to the threat. His hands while touching you, felt like they were hovering.

“You’re allowed to be angry, you don’t need permission for it.” And his hands were lifted away. and he was back on his side of the bed laying just like he was earlier, as if you never disrupted him.

Then you cried, you laid there curled up in a ball next to him. He never touched you, until you reached out and touched him, pulling yourself into his arms. He held you then gently and quietly until you relaxed and laid there half asleep and exhausted. His hands cupped your cheeks and you were held close to his face, his mouth a meare inch from your nose.

“I’ll do anything for you, even if you don’t like us or being here. We will do anything to keep you safe. I’ll make you as happy as I can, I swear to you I will.”

You heard Fetain come up from the basement when the door slammed shut. He was lighter than air with his footsteps so when he walked into Phinks’ room and ended up next to the bed you nearly screamed. “Try to sleep at ten and wake up at six. You need good sleep routine.”

You nodded, Phinks had mentioned it right? Ten to six seemed reasonable. “Exactly 6 am?”

“Roughly. Take time to change, one week to do yourself.”

“I’ll try to do it.” You nodded and a yawn slipped from your lips.

“Take nap, us three will talk work.” He waited for Phinks to get up.

Phinks patted your shoulder, “stay here and sleep for a bit we don’t want you dealing with our work stuff yet.”

“Okay.”

But Feitain hovered for a second longer than he needed to, just quietly looking at you with this deep thoughtful look in his eyes, yet he left without saying anything.

They had a habit of leaving you alone with your thoughts. Thankfully your cat at least sits with you when you need it, most of the time.

There was nothing to do with them all being busy. Something told you not to poke around for answers about what they were discussing. Even though you weren’t gonna search around for answers your mind wandered. It was a gross wandering similar to how one could lay in bed and gaze up into the darkness and just sit there. Rambling and turning whispers in your thoughts flashing images of blood gore and violence. How could anyone imagine what their jobs could be? You were used to surrounding yourself with images of oozing guts, but just beccause you had been decentized to it didn’t mean that fucking kidnappers who seemed more than used to living isolated was something you could handle.

You ran your hand back from the cat’s nose to his ears. He pressed himself so firmly against your hand that his eyelids were slightly pulled back as he demanded all of your attention. You could feel him breathing on you, his soft purrs are loud as he clung to you. When the fur around his face is pushed back his whole meringue look changes to one of a rat. His eyes while blown wide into dark saucers continue to look up at you fondly, his fur looks like a front facing bald eagle. There’s a reason you hardly ever see those angles, it’s less flattering. There’s less pride and a slicked back edge that is perceived as coolness. This is what that sweet cat looked like from this angle, his poofy roundness disappeared and strange looking from the front, while you never truly have looked too explore the other angles of the strange hair-do, the adorably crafted ugliness makes you melt into him as he melts into you.

As you lay there thoughts bubbling up worries and anxiety scratching away at your insides, this sweet fluff keeps you grounded. As was his task, he was an unofficial emotional support cat, nothing more than a pet that kept you mentally stable and provided both a comfort and reason to live. It was easy on the days where the paints seemed poisoned to be unable to reason and find out why you were alive. You wondered if everyone questioned this at times perhaps that’s why your artwork seemed so desperate, why you just cling to an intestine rope to pull you closer to answers and people who relate. It’s not something you can say for sure but even now, after a few years of this cat he kept you perfectly content to question but not give up.

He was also a good muse, posing in ways during his naps. Belly up, his head laid back against a pillow, his front paws folded under his chin but his back legs sticking upwards like two towers, fluffy and off white. He laid his ways that made it hard to determine if he was a cat or strang fluffy void, even though lots of cats did that. No matter how many photos and squeals you let out, it never felt the same, there simply isn't a connection. No photo could replace your cat, because you knew just about everything about him.

Sometimes you wondered if you relied too much on the cat, you’d question if the kidnappers thought the same if you weren’t so preoccupied with anything else. Even in captivity it seemed like you never had time for anything. All your plans would get mixed up or you would get horribly distracted. You acted as if you were wandering naked in a dark maze with how time snuck up on you. With no one to truly tell you otherwise you gave into it when you could, which was most of the time. Hours would be spent gazing off into walls and corners as you painted in your own head, it didn’t matter if you pictured it or not, it was the mental motions of the act that kept you entranced.

A jiggle of a brush, a whirlpool of the paint thinner. Hell the actions are what lured you down into the basement again. You hadn’t been told to stay, hadn't been told not to. You may not have paid attention to the home as you were pulled down to the basement by your navel; the living was quiet though the three men hummed and buzzed with a quiet conversation. You continued onto the door opening it so gently and silently you might have well just phased through the door to begin with. The unfinished steps hadn’t groaned or creaked as you stepped on them even though they should. The door hovered open, the light peering and stealing across the floor to the hall now behind you. As a moth would you step down and forwards moving towards your painting.

At this moment your eyes flashed with one lucid thought, “something isn’t right.” It didn't take a genius to know this but somehow as you were drugged by your own relaxation and you had taken the liberty to forget about everything that had been a bright neon sign telling you something was amiss. You looked away from your studio and across the room at another’s.

It’s important to note that some people have a personal belief that art is in the eye of the beholder, regardless of whether each piece usually has an original meaning in the grand scheme of things. You had thoughts and ideas, messages and stories to tell through your paintings. Each a commentary on something since you didn’t believe in unthoughtful gore and brutality, that wasn’t to say it had no meaning, but that there wasn’t a personal thought being expressed even deep below the surface. In this belief of art interpretation all art has at least two meanings, the artist’s original suffering inquiry, and the viewer’s lack of understanding. With this in mind the scene behind the curtain is much different then one in your studio.

The curtain had always been a temptation, that’s a simple fact of the matter. Place a marshmallow in front of a child and most struggle to resist even with the promise of more. This curtain in your case was so much more than temptation. A temptation is often pictured as sweet and sugary, lustful even, not a need but a want. This curtain was so much more than that, it was thorn covered and speckled with a lifetime of warnings but it wasn’t sweet, there was no guarantee of safety but an expectation of more. Even then you peeled it back.

It was more than a treasure trove of goodies, it was a threatening pile of one. The lights were on and you were slammed into with information as you peared across it all, for instance the room was large, much larger than you thought it was. While most of it was still unfinished further back against the far wall was a much more finished section. That is what you noticed second but you just were too in shock to register the first yet. The furthest wall was finished, a simple gray paint and from it hung old custom paintings, things both long forgotten and new. They were strange to see though in comparison to your room when you had first woken up nothing crazy. The first thing you noticed was crazier, though not too surprising.

The wall was lined with a board, hanging from it an assortment of household tools and even more specialty ones. Mostly pliers, wrenches, screwdrivers of all sorts of sizes. There were spools of wire, rope, and bolt cutters. There were more too, there were tweezers, the heavy duty kind, expensive looking, stainless steel and with a rubber grip. Each item while normally not threatening was fucking horrifying. The blindfolded and gagged half-dead looking man would ultimately agree if he saw the line up. Yet the detail of the organization, to the bindings, and yes even the table he was on, made it look like a perfectly created scene. To Feitain, who you half-confidently assumed was the resident torturer, this must be something artistic or even religious, sometimes the two came hand in hand.

His hair was glued by brown dried blood, his nose broken, the bruising covering his cheeks and eyes from what you could tell from afar. There was no way for him to escape from his binds, strapped down to the table. The table itself looked to be something akin to an embalming table, slightly slanted towards a floor drain, some blood already leaking down from the man and dried against the table’s cold smudged metal. He had bruises down his arms and legs dark purple and splotchy. His ankle looked painfully enlarged, not enough to be a break but horribly sprained.

You should have screamed in horror, your heartbeat sped up like crazy after all. There was enough adrenaline that maybe you could have killed a person, not your captors from the look and attitude of them. If a captor can be so unconcerned like they were either they were morons or knew full well that they had perfect complete control. From a second kidnapped person being in the basement looking like a corpse it’s easy to decide which.

Looking on even in your shocked state you made your third discovery. There were bulkhead doors. A small flight of stairs led up to them. In your shock you continued to move like a ghost, even though your chest was pounding. It rumbled in your gut, twisted and stabbed at your lungs, and you looked upwards at it, upwards into the dark steps a small crack of light. Your cat in all his loving sweetness rubbed up against your leg, mewling softly. You walked forwards reaching upward towards the door, climbing the stairs and gently pressing to see if they’d open, to your surprise it did.

#x reader fanfiction #fanfiction #hxh x reader #hxh #yandere #fanfic #feitan x reader #yandere phinks x reader #phinks x reader #yandere shalnark #shalnark x reader #yandere feitan x reader #yandere feitan #Phinks #yandere fanfiction

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

Courting Aragorn Would Include

- well we’ve all seen, and some of us have read, what it’s like to be in a romantic relationship with Aragorn, so we’re all pretty familiar with the territory

- however I would just like to take this opportunity to personally apologise to Arwen for this blasphemy ok we all stan u bb

- you’ll have to prepare yourself for some brooding angst if Aragorn is the one you plan to give your heart to

- it’ll also take a while to break down those angsty walls of his, he’s a difficult egg to crack

- but once you do get past his harsh and quiet exterior, he will love you more than anything in existence

- you wont have been prepared for a love this strong, and it will be incredibly intense, so strap yourself in

- as a lowkey royal figure, he’s more naturally accustomed to the art of courting, rather than casual dating that is consistent among the species of men

- courting in itself will include bouquets of flowers, which he has picked himself, being delivered to your front door with handwritten love letters from him

- Aragorn will be as patient as you need him to be, and because he’s already smitten, going at your pace wont bother him at all

- given the amount of time he has spent travelling, he’s bound to know some incredible romantic spots for picnics, campfires, stargazing, skinny dipping; anything you can possibly think of

- he wont treat you like a queen, because let’s not forget he isnt a big fan of royal positions to begin with, but he will look at you everyday like you are an angel at his side, and he will thank his lucky stars that you chose him to bare the weight of your heart

- and this doesnt change even when the process of courting is complete

- once you’re officially bound to him, his intense love for you will be visible to anyone that sees him

- Aragorn isnt big on aggressive PDA, he’s a very gentle man, but he does adore playing with your hair and holding your hands

- forehead kisses are a given

- linking back to his brooding, he’s quite stressed a lot of the time, and you will often give him shoulder and back massages to ease his physical tension

- over time, he loses the embarrassment brought on by asking for a massage, and will ask without hesitation, because he falls in love with your touch

- if anyone tries to sway your heart away from his, Aragorn will not hesitate to destroy them first with words, and then - if their poor attempts at persuasion continue - with a blade

- your heart could never be swayed from his, of course, but the mere act of someone trying to achieve such a thing is enough reason for him to be royally upset

- as already mentioned, Aragorn is very intense, and this comes across through his physical affection in moments shared between just the two of you

- when you’re enveloped by his arms, with your head on his chest and his heart beating in harmony with yours, words are no longer necessary

- and when he stares into your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the seas of turmoil, which now have rays of light beaming down on them, the light of your love for him

- he can never find words strong enough to describe his love for you, he chooses instead to express himself through his actions

- lying in bed on your sides, facing each other, your legs intertwined, his fingers caressing the side of your face as his eyes stare into yours, and your souls embracing each other

- when Aragorn loves, he loves more than any other creature possibly could, and if you are lucky enough to find yourself loved by such a man, dont let yourself forget, not even for a moment, that you are the luckiest person in Middle-earth

#aragorn #aragorn x reader #aragorn imagine #x reader #lord of the rings #lotr #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I was looking at the words on the ask game and I’ve intrigued myself…. Illecebrous For Antoni? 🙏

Illecebrous: alluring, attractive, enticing

-

CW: Implied noncon, noncon touching, creepy whumper, intimate whumper

"It's a wonder, really, that it took so long for someone to snap you up," Mr. Davies mused. Smoke hung thick in the air around him, sweet and heady clove settling like a weight on the ashtray's shoulder, sifting onto his nearly-shaven head like falling snowflakes.

He held the ashtray's thin wrist in one large hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the inside where blue-tinged veins seemed to linger just beneath pale skin. A scar or two added texture to the touch, but they were old and healed, and didn't cause pain at all.

Still, the ashtray held perfectly still, silent, eyes down. His eyelashes seemed impossibly long. His collar was cinched a little too tight. Oscar leaned over, pressing the thin, embered end of the cigarette just below the collar's leather edge.

The ashtray shuddered, hissing through his teeth, but he didn't pull away.

"How did anyone ever walk past you and resist? Hm? Boggles the mind." Tears glinted at the corners of those downturned eyes. "Oh, that must ache," Mr. Davies cooed in response to those wet eyes, the trembling lips. "Perhaps you wore too much armor for anyone else to see what I see now. But here you are... laid bare for me."

He nudged the toe of his Italian leather shoes, softly gleaming in yellow lamplight, between the ashtray's legs. Even wearing the soft sweatpants that are all he was ever allowed, the pet shuddered with disgust and ducked his chin even more, shoulders hunching. The fresh burn on his neck was bright red. It must have been throbbing.

Oscar dropped the young man's wrist and sat back, looking at his cigarette, before he snapped his fingers. "Light," He commanded.

The ashtray moved instantly, jerking forwards and grabbing the gold-plated lighter that sat on the side table next to Oscar's leather chair. His hands trembled, but there was a flame soon enough.

He leaned forward, taking a long drag when the flame touched the tip.

The ashtray's eyes - just briefly - met his own.

"You're suffering for what you've done to me," Oscar murmured, exhaling a cloud into the ashtray's face until he can't quite cover up his cough. "And you'll suffer more. But my God, will you look incredible while you do it."

He snapped again, and pointed down, between his own legs. "Mouth, love. I'll want no begging tonight."

There was no protest. Only the slightest hesitation - the look of such despair in those beautiful eyes - and then the ashtray moved forward, shuffling in his knees, hands already working to open Oscar's robe.

As soon as that mouth was wet and warm around him, he leaned over, one hand on the top of the ashtray's head, and pressed the cigarette directly between his pet's shoulder blades.

The light moved over pale skin as every muscle locked. The ashtray's eyes closed tight, tears running down his cheeks, following the sharp cheekbones, making their way down to the line of his jaw.

Oscar groaned, shoving the pet even further until his nose was pressed to Oscar's pelvis and he had to fight to breathe, grinding the cigarette until it all but fell apart in his hands.

The noises the pet made were incredible.

The way his throat worked as he fought not to cry or choke, and yet still did both, was divine.

#whump #pet whump #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #antoni sings lullabies #oscar davies #implied noncon #noncon tw #writing #whumpblr #burns tw #cigarette burns #sadistic whumper

[rebelspykatie]

that green light, i want it

Part 5

“It was the coven,” he whispers between them. He doesn’t want to bring Eddie into this, but he’s already in danger. They’re already in so deep and Steve’s scared and he doesn’t know what else to do but let it all out to this man who’s been more kind to him than anyone in his life recently. Even if it is out of stupidly naive curiosity. 

Eddie turns towards him on the bed, pulling one leg up, pressing it against Steve’s thigh and fully facing him. His face is so open, Steve can’t help the way the truth slides out of his mouth. 

“Herman said he was out patrolling when he heard someone coming through the woods, thought it was someone lost, like a kid or some out of towner passing through. Most homeless people in Hawkins stay away from this side of town, between the rich assholes getting them picked up by the cops and the stories surrounding the woods after Barb, it’s not really a safe place.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, “Wayne warned me against dealing in the woods. It must be weird to have them in your backyard.” 

“I was taught the same lessons. Fear can do a lot to people.” He takes a deep breath, continuing, “When he heard noise, Herman got closer to the edge of the woods, waiting for someone to emerge, but nothing came. He saw a flash of light and heard a cut off scream that worried him. He said he’s always been good at working in the dark after years on the night shift, so he followed them.”

“At least you’ve met someone with less self preservation skills than me, now,” Eddie says with a sheepish grin. 

“That doesn’t make your behavior any less stupid, you know?” Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Trusting you seems to be working out pretty well for me,” Eddie says, playfully nudging Steve. If Steve didn’t have better control, sparks might’ve lit up the tips of his fingers from the affection coursing through his veins at that sentiment. He hasn’t trusted anyone outside of Nancy in so long he barely knows what to do with someone putting any kind of faith in him. 

He decides to ignore it. “From what he described next, the coven were sacrificing her. He saw an altar of some kind with Barb laying on it unconscious. There were too many people for Herman to take down on his own, so he stayed hidden in the woods.”

“If you’re about to tell me this was a virginal sacrifice, I’m never going to take witches seriously.” 

Steve snorts, Eddie’s comment breaking the tension in the room. “If that’s what they were going for, no wonder it didn’t work.”

The bed shakes when Eddie’s head whips back, eyebrows rising comically on his forehead and leaning back on one arm to gawk at Steve. “Are you saying that Barbara Holland wasn’t a virgin?”

He ducks his head, smiling at the memory, “Nancy told me stories after she went missing. There was one about a sleep away camp that got interesting.” 

“Barb, you freak.” Eddie shakes his head, hair fanning out around him in a wild halo. “Good for her. Everyone always talked about how sweet and innocent she was. Didn’t know she had it in her.” 

“That must be why we couldn’t find a body. That’s why the spells kept leading us back to the woods,” Steve says, sifting through the information he got from Herman in his head. “It was leading us back to the last place she was seen because there’s no body to be found.” 

“Doesn’t it take a lot to like, completely incinerate a body?” Eddie’s face contorts, the thought of burning someone alive not sitting well. 

“Not when you have magic.” Steve holds out a hand and lights up his fingertips. “It doesn’t work the same way, the body could disappear in seconds.” He snaps, fire going out. “It wasn’t a natural fire. Herman saw colors and then she was gone.”

“So what were they sacrificing her for?” 

“I’m not sure,” Steve shrugs. “It could just be power. They’ve always come across as desperate. I knew pretty early on that they wanted my power. It’s why I decided we shouldn’t tell them the whole truth about our plans. Nancy wanted answers so bad she didn’t care how, but there was something off. Some gut feeling told me I shouldn’t trust them.”

“Looks like your gut was right,” Eddie leans forward until he’s eye level with Steve’s stomach. “Good work, buddy.” And then he pokes Steve in the belly.

It startles a laugh out of Steve. He’s never met anyone like Eddie. Someone who can make light hearted jokes even when they’re in danger. Someone that can make Steve laugh even when his brain is stuck on how Barb was senselessly sacrificed for nothing. Someone that’s sitting here listening to Steve’s insane stories, even though he didn’t need to get roped into this at all, but still trusts Steve to keep him safe. 

Eddie’s grinning a huge, dimpled smile at Steve that falls a bit as he leans back. “What do we do now?” 

“I think we need to warn Nancy. It won’t take long for the coven to figure out something is wrong. They have eyes and ears everywhere in those woods.” Steve stands up and zips the bag he was packing closed, shoving it at Eddie’s chest when he stands. “Take this to the car, I need to make a quick phone call. Don’t leave the property line, or I can’t guarantee protection, got it?” 

Eddie nods, saluting Steve like they’re in the military and Steve is once again gripped with that overly fond feeling. They grin at each other like two lovesick idiots, as if they’re not both in mortal danger. Steve shakes himself out of it. 

He follows Eddie down the stairs and waits until he’s out of range from hearing anything in the kitchen. 

Dialing a number he knows by heart, he wraps the cord around his fingers as he waits for someone to pick up. Finally, when the dial tone clicks and that gruff voice comes over the line, Steve says, “I know who did it.”

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Epilogue | AO3

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes

[outeremissary]

2023 Wrapped!

This is my first ever time doing a year end art summary (using this template)- I always wanted to when I was younger, but never felt I was creating enough work or that it was "serious" enough or good looking enough to be worth compiling. It's been interesting to reflect on a year that included so many creative ups and downs (and life ups and downs in general). If you'll permit me I want to do the little reflection ramble too, even if it's an inadvisable 5 (or now 6) in the morning where I live.

Some of you who followed me on Twitter probably know that I only "learned to color"- or rather found a way that worked for me enough to finish things consistently- in 2022, and rather late in 2022 at that. This is pretty much the first year where work I considered "finished" or "polished" included things that weren't greyscale, and it's absolutely the first year where I had attempted to do something in color almost every single month. When I look at this and see the range of hues it has, I really feel an incredible sense of achievement. I would not have imagined 14 months ago that I could stitch something that looked like this together, and 12 months ago I can't say I'd have felt confident either.

Despite having a huge artistic slump in the back half of the year (along with a sharp downturn in my mental health in general) I was astounded to find that for the first six months I had so much work that I loved and was proud of that it was hard to put this together because I constantly felt like I was leaving favorites out- works that I thought were iconic or were huge milestones or I just really loved. That was unbelievable. And that was only sifting through the "nice" stuff- I didn't even consider a mountain of sketches and doodles that I adored! Even in my busiest months and the months I was recovering from a major medical procedure (I got top surgery!!!) I had something to show, and May being a WIP is less because there was nothing in that month than because Aurien and Vio were the only ones who were fitting in the damn frame (side note: I'd be more thoughtful with template than aesthetic if I ever did this again).

Even in the five months I was convinced I had done absolutely nothing, I found again and again that I had more than I thought for every month (except November, where it turned out everything I thought I'd done was early December. you've been spared DUrgetash). I was creating even when I was convinced that I was never going to be able to draw again. And I was creating enough that I got to be picky filling this thing out and choose Tristian for October just for a laugh when other options were out there, and enough that I had options when I was struggling to fit something I wanted into the template frame.

Side note: Miss Leonelle, you were tragically robbed by the damn frames.

In making this I also saw again and again the connections that I made throughout the year. I have had the incredible fortune to make wonderful friends this year and to build on bonds that I already had- even some where I perhaps didn't deserve the chances I was given. @mountainashfae is all over this summary- in April, May, June, August, and November- and I've often felt I spent as much time on Vio as Balthazar this year, but there were at least seven other baronesses, KCs, and other incredible OCs I had the privilege of drawing this year who I desperately wanted to fit onto this and was not able to for one reason or another. I'm so happy to know so many creative, passionate people and to be allowed so close to the things they hold so dear. To everyone who has shared their creations this year- not just with me, but with anyone on the internet or in real life or quietly in DMs or in a Discord or wherever- you're incredible, and I hope you're proud of what you've done. And if you struggle with that, I hope you can be proud of the way you're growing even now.

If you've stuck with me this far, thank you. Sincerely. I really appreciate that there are people who enjoy looking at my silly little drawings and reading my occasional rambles, even if I'm a little erratic on putting things up and usually a bit distant by choice from fan communities. And if you continue to stick around, I hope that you continue to have a good time.

I don't know what to expect from 2024 when I've got a laundry list of projects from 2023 I haven't finished, but I'm hopeful about what it'll contain. There's a lot I want to do- more full illustrations, working on other media, trying more ambitious projects- but for now it's enough to just think about picking up the things I've left off and continuing to tie up those loose ends.

Here's hoping we all can find something we want in 2024, as terrible and unknowable as the new chapter is.

#really obsessed with the single non PF/D&D thing on this being fucking Library of Ruina. huh!! I still haven't played more than two hours #my carmen didn't make the cut but maybe another carmen counts too. #I think in total there are 2.5 things on here that were never posted on tumblr. june made it here as a sketch but I don't think color? #if I have drawn something for you this year I love your character and had fun. :') #if I ever did this again I would maybe just do something with normal squares that didn't look cool. for practicality #emiway time for me to pass the fuck out. everyone outside of the US truly I am posting for you with the times I choose to not sleep #love you all have a good whatever time it is #emi art

[starlahuskyz]

Chances - Chapter 1

A TLB fan story

Summary: It's 1988 and Jordan has been alone for a while now. She's tried to escape her past which has forever tied her to Santa Carla, but now has to learn to trust again. She also finds out that her past will always come back to haunt her.

GIF by @hypnoticvamp

This is my first ever fic and most likely one of my only ones. I plan on telling this entire story so stay tuned for updates. BTW I'm not a very good writer but I'm just telling this story for fun. If you don't like oc x canon stories then you are gonna want to avoid this one.

TW// none for now

Chapter 2

Feedback is appreciated ^ ^

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Boardwalk

Summertime only means one thing in Santa Carla, it brings in hordes of new tourists and visitors into this crazy town. And you can expect it to remain that way for the next few months. But amongst all of the people on the boardwalk, there is one individual who walks alone. She isn’t a particularly special individual, not really attractive or ugly, dresses casually but not really normally either. She’s a stranger to most people and seemingly can’t be read by most who pass her. She has one goal in mind and one only, she doesn’t let anyone get in her way as she goes.

Within a few minutes, she’s reached her destination…Max’s Video Store. Looking through the entrance she doesn’t see the owner, “Awesome…” She isn’t a fan of the owner. He always gives her a ‘look’ when she walks in. She makes her visit brief as she sifts through old VHS’s looking frantically for something that catches her eye. 

As she finally finds something, A new presence makes itself known by slamming its hands onto the box she was looking through. She winces as she already knows who it is.

“Before you say anything, please save it” She looks up at them with the most uninterested face she could muster.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, I was gonna simply admire you from afar…” They said with a snarky yet lovestruck smile. It was Marko…

That curly haired blonde who sported the most complex looking jacket she will ever see and wore black leather chaps. He also had the face of a Greek statue and eyes that she swore could change colors at will. A part of her wanted to feel flattered that he liked her, but at the same time she knew she didn't quite trust him.

“Well I’ll have you know that I’m pretty busy, so you should do yourself a favor and go with your buddies before I let you down again.” She walked towards the counter to pay for the VHS when she heard a new voice.

“Jordan! You didn’t tell us you would be here today! Why didn't you tell us?” A tall lanky blondie who looked like Twisted Sister wrapped his arms around Jordan’s much shorter frame and spun her around much to her dismay. “You guys don't need to know what I'm doing OR where I'm going!" She twisted and writhed in his arms as he simply dangled her over the ground.

Paul kept blabbering while Marko came up to her and simply said, “You said I should go with my buddies, but I already brought them here.”

Jordan finally got herself out of Paul’s arms and slammed cash onto the counter for her VHS. “You can keep the change just please let me get the hell out of here” The lady working the register simply smiled and laughed to herself “I know how you feel.”

“What’s the hurry?” A new voice intervenes. Everyone looks from what they are doing, it’s David.

Jordan could recognize the platinum blonde from anywhere. Walking up to Jordan he puts a rough hand on her shoulder. “You should know they are just excited to spend some time with you.”

“You forget yourself, it’s just Marko who wants to spend time with me. You guys are just third wheeling his sad attempt at flirting with me for god knows how many times. I’m sure he’s wonderful and all but I’d advise you to give him a wake up call.”

Jordan snatches the VHS off of the counter and makes a beeline for the exit before she is blocked by the one brunette of this club of crazies. “Well, you haven’t even given him a chance, so how do you know you don’t like him?” He grabs her shoulders and turns her around to face Marko who is giving her the biggest frown she’s ever seen. “See? You can make that frown turn upside down if you give him the chance to-” 

“What did I tell guys you about coming in here?”

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #oc x canon #tlb oc #tlb jordan

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

The Way He Looks at You Series I:XIII

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 13: The Way He Visits You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

You make a new friend, and see an old one. Rating: 18+ Words: 3.1K

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The room feels empty now that Cal has left and you find yourself unsure what to do now that you have almost complete freedom. You have only spent a couple hours alone since the end of your relationship with Theo and being in a strange place makes the loneliness feel more extreme. You had been so excited to have this time, and now that it is here, you feel lost.

A wicked thought crosses your mind, the chance at escape, you have the resources to do so. There would be a significant head start before Cal would realize that you had run off, maybe enough time to warn your fellow Rebels and get them out of harm’s way. An opportunity to restart, away from the Empire and the Rebellion, away from all the pain that you have felt from both sides of the Force.

Is the risk worth it? You already made the choice, attempting an escape now is risky, maybe more than before when Cal had provided you the choice. Even if you had time to warn the others, you can imagine that Cal would hunt down everyone you cared for and then yourself with a vengeance once he realized your betrayal.

Is that what is keeping you here, fear? You aren’t sure, so you attempt to change how you ponder the feelings inside of you. If there was no risk of anyone being hurt or killed, would you still choose to stay? No immediate answer comes forward, so you sit on the edge of the bed and await clarity on the topic.

Mulling over your feelings for Cal confuses you more, he has given into your every desire and been fair considering his position in the galaxy. However, he did also seduce you in a moment of weakness. You haven’t exactly been in your right mind since Theo broke up with you.

You try to sift through who you are now versus who you were just a few days ago, but it’s hard to remember that person. Several days now feels like several years and you huff before falling backwards on the bed, staring at the texture on the ceiling.

Trying to think back to the woman you were when you first began piloting, before meeting Theo. She was determined but afraid; the determination won out. That woman wasn’t looking for safety in a man, just safety and peace for others. She wanted to do anything and everything possible to fight back against the Empire. You feel you hardly know that person.

Here you are, waiting for an Inquisitor to return to you; worrying for his safety while you spend his money. It’s almost pathetic, you hate yourself for succumbing to temptation. You can’t imagine how your old self would react to seeing what has become of you. There is a deep sense of shame in the decision.

Then another thought hits you, you didn’t agree to stay with just any Inquisitor; you stayed with Cal. He didn’t choose this life, and he is doing what he can to fulfill his duty while protecting who he can. There was even the implication that if the Empire should fall, he would abandon it for you. He isn’t evil; he is just as terrified of the power of the Empire as anyone.

You wonder if staying with Cal won’t do more good in the grand scheme of things. Had you left, Cal would fight back in the off chance the Rebellion attacks and wins. He would cause more loss of life in a last battle.

By staying, you ensure that if the future plays out how you hope it will, that one Inquisitor will leave and take no additional lives.

But if that day never comes, then your choice to stay only makes you compliant with everything you have fought against. There is no obvious answer on what makes sense, perhaps you’ll never know what choice is correct.

You sigh out a breath, so overwhelmed by all the conflicting thoughts in your head. There is half the day left and you are becoming hungry, so you sit up, shaking the conflict from your mind. You go into the bathroom to confirm your appearance is the way you want. Tugging awkwardly at the revealing dress, it doesn’t bother you when Cal is around, but the thought of others seeing so much of your skin makes you uncomfortable.

You finally give up your plight to be more modest and open the front door. You quickly lock up before heading down the stairs and out into the bright day. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the invasive light, but once they do you look for a place to get some food.

There is a small food cart, and you grab something small and portable from the vendor. While you would love to have a full meal, you are also eager to visit the various shops. You eat the snack as you window shop, taken with all the stores in this area. The market is bustling and people seem less weary of you now that you are by yourself. You still receive many glances, likely because of your clothing, but there isn’t an innate fear of your presence.

A small bookshop sits at the corner of one street and you find yourself drawn inside. You feel at peace the moment you enter. It is quiet; the shelves crowded with novels. It is a perfect place to spend the afternoon. You wander through the aisles in no particular order, simply enjoying the peaceful environment. A beautiful book catches your eye and you pull it from the shelves to study the description. Finding a seat in the window to read the first chapter to help you make your decision.

You spend most of the afternoon in a fantastical bliss, going to and from the shelves with a new book in hand. Every time reading the first chapter before returning the book to its home and finding a new one. There was never much time for reading since losing your family. There was always work to be done in the Rebellion and you loved the work. But without direction, you want to find something new to keep your mind busy.

You find yourself lost in the first chapter of an interesting novel when you feel a tap on the shoulder. A small Gree woman is standing over you, clearly the owner of this establishment.

“Struggling to decide?” She asks in common tongue.

You look up at her, settling the book in your lap. “I’m afraid so, there are so many interesting stories and it may be awhile before I can buy another book. I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”

She nods thoughtfully, “That is the trouble with books, you may never return to the story you once loved.”

You frown, “I wish I didn’t have to choose.”

She studies you for a moment, “I may have what you need.”

You tilt your head at her in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

She takes the book from your lap and places it back in its home on the shelf. Then she takes your large hands in her small soft ones and pulls you to follow. You stand and follow without further question but wonder if you should be more resistant to following strangers. Cal said take no risks, but you don’t feel this woman is a threat.

She leads you to the back of the shop towards a rickety old door. You momentarily worry you shouldn’t follow her further, but you want to know what she has in mind. The tiny woman opens the door and pulls you into a room with a workbench and many electronic parts lining the walls.

“I have been working on something.” She says excitedly. “A new way to read, it will access all books available on local databases. The more you travel the more books you can find. You do travel often?” She asks, glancing at your heavy cloak.

“I do.” You say, looking back at her with equal excitement. “Your invention, it sounds amazing!”

She smiles wide at your enthusiasm. “It is, I made it after all. This is a prototype, I will sell it to you at a discounted price. You can test it out for me, send word if you like it or if it needs improvements.”

She hands you a thin book sized datapad. You examine it carefully and press the button to bring the device to life. A huge smile overtakes your face as you learn how the device works. The Gree woman helps teach you the nuances of the datapad. You are both beaming at one another, excited to have someone else match the thrill of a device to read endless books on.

After about an hour of learning how the device operates, you agree on a price. The cost is most of your spending money, but not all. If it works well, you will have endless entertainment when waiting for Cal while he works. The woman introduces herself as Kaahlii and provides you with a way to contact her through the datapad. You introduce yourself and she walks you back into the main store front to collect payment.

“Thank you Kaahlii, I am so grateful for your kindness and am very excited to use your invention.” You say as you hand over the credits.

You quickly realize that you have no way to store the device on your person and Kaahlii notices your strife. “No storage? No problem.”

She heads to a distant corner of the store and brings a black leather satchel large enough to fit your new device. You smile at her and agree on another price for the bag. Just as you are about to shake on the deal you see a package of folding papers for sale on the corner of the front desk.

“I’ll give you the rest of my credits for the bag and the folding papers.” You negotiate. She thinks for a moment then holds out her hand, you eagerly shake it with a smile and pass over your remaining spending credits. She opens the bag and places your datapad inside. Then she walks towards the folding papers counting up how many she has available, even looking under the desk to see if there are any additional.

You watch a bit confused. You had only wanted one package and aren’t sure why she is counting her inventory. She takes the entire stack and fills the remaining space in your bag with all the folding paper she can fit. You furrow your eyebrows but a grin is stuck on your face.

“For trying out my invention.” She says simply.

“You are too kind.” You say back as you pick up the satchel and wrap the strap across your body, ensuring to cover it with your cloak.

She gives you an approving nod and grasps your hands in hers once more. “I want a response when you have used it for enough time, an honest opinion on my work.”

“I will be in touch.” You say and squeeze her hands gently before turning to exit the store.

You are on cloud nine with the lovely afternoon you had in Kaahlii’s shop. There is a bit of shame in spending all your money so quickly, but you feel it was a wonderful investment, like it was always going to happen this way.

The small snack from earlier has worn off and you realize how hungry you are. You find a nearby eatery and order some food before taking a seat alone at a table in the corner. While you eat you eagerly pull out your reading datapad and power it up, searching for all books that you can get in the area. You spend lots of time adding as much as you can to the device, excited to have such easy access to so many lovely books.

“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice sounds to your left, standing at the edge of your table.

You look up, recognition setting in. “Theo?”

He stares at you in confusion before sliding into the seat opposite you. You look around nervously, fearful that Cal may show up suddenly; afraid of what would have to happen if the two saw one another.

Despite the fear, your heart leaps seeing him again. He is as attractive as ever, his messy dark hair falling into his kind gray eyes. They draw you in, reminding you of your relationship together, making you feel special. His looks are enough to make you feel heat between your legs, but you try to ignore it. Theo doesn’t want you, he made that very clear, lusting after him will only cause more trouble.

“Why are you here?” Theo says, his eyes show how concerned he is. “No one has seen you, I thought you went back to Yavin 4, but I contacted the base to ensure you got there safely and there was no word of your arrival.”

The thought of him still feeling concern for your safety warms you slightly. You want so badly for him to take you in his arms and tell you he still loves you. You realize you haven’t answered his question when he speaks again.

“What are you wearing?” He seems a bit horrified at your dress. Though you don’t miss his eyes traveling along the bare skin between your breasts. There is a whisper of lust in his eyes, his pupils dilate, but he seems to resist.

“Theo, I, it’s a long story. I had some things come up, I haven’t been able to rejoin the Rebellion. I’m not sure I ever will.” You try to explain, but you know it won’t be enough, he is going to push for more information.

“Why? I know how much fighting back means to you. Is this about…our conversation from the other morning?” He asks, looking ashamed.

“I suppose it started there.” You try to keep your tone even and not give away the hurt you feel. Unfortunately, your eyes don’t care and tears swell in your eyes.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I never thought that you would leave the cause because of me.” He tries to explain hastily.

“You broke my heart.” You say slowly, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I didn’t want it to be this way, I just realized after…that night…that I was falling away from the Jedi Code. There is danger in straying, it could lead me to the Dark Side.” He says quietly, trying to ensure that no one else hears the words he is speaking.

You scoff, “I don’t think that loving me will cause that.” You think about how silly this all sounds since being with Cal. He fell to the Dark Side, and it feels like loving you is pulling him away from it.

Theo frowns, the expression pulls at your heartstrings. Arguing with him won’t change his mind, and you don’t want to have this interaction be on bad terms. You don’t want to see him hurt.

“You don’t understand the training that I received. They forbid attachments.” He tries to reason.

“I don’t understand. You allowed us to date, but you waited until the worst possible moment to break things off. It made me feel insecure, and used.” You say to him pointedly.

He sits quietly, thinking over your words. “I am so sorry for hurting you in that way. I care for you so dearly and I was wrong to not end things before allowing it to go so far.” He says with genuine remorse.

His gray eyes pierce yours, different that Cal’s. Theo’s are soft and caring, he sees so easily into you and you feel calm and safe in his presence. It feels impossible to hold a grudge and you sigh in exasperation.

“I know, it just still hurts.” You mumble.

There is a beat of silence that washes over you both. You are trying to soothe your pain. Theo observes you, wishing he could help.

“What brought you here?” Theo asks, attempting to change the subject.

You feel so torn; you want to tell him the truth, the man whom you have trusted for the past couple years should know. It feels wrong to hide anything from him. But Theo is no longer your boyfriend, and telling him anything would only endanger him.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper.

Theo sighs, wishing to get more information, he is clearly worried for your safety.

“How long are you staying?” He tries.

“Five days including today.” You answer honestly, there is nothing wrong with providing this information and you feel grateful to speak some truth to him.

You so desperately want to ask for information on the Rebellion, to learn who is still working to fight back against the Empire. To know if any major breakthroughs have come about in the few days that you have been away. But you know better, any information you learn will quench your need for knowledge, but it will put others in danger.

“Is your reason for being here to help the fight?” Theo asks, looking with desperation in his eyes.

You are technically here because you are helping the fight, you just can’t fight anymore. “Something like that.” You say slowly.

Theo nods, “You need to be careful, there is an Inquisitor in the area, I saw one of their ships. I am unsure which one but I do not want you to be in danger.”

He looks at you, waiting for a reaction, knowing how much you fear their kind, especially after what happened to your family. Theo seems more concerned when you don’t react.

“Are you okay? Did you already know?” He implores.

“I was aware.” You say, “You need to leave, the Inquisitors will quickly sniff you out.”

He gives you a charming smile, showing off his white teeth. “I do not fear the Inquisitors, I heard that the one here works alone. Also, I can’t leave now that I know you are here. I need to know you are safe.”

You tremble, realizing that Cal will hunt Theo down if he does not leave you alone. “Please, Theo, you need to leave, I am okay on my own. I’m stronger than I once was.” You feel you are begging.

Theo only shakes his head, “I have to go, I have work to do, but I’ll be around. Please stay safe.”

You watch as Theo stands and heads for the door before disappearing into the early evening crowds. Taking some calming breaths you finish your remaining meal and pack up your things. The sun is setting and you need to get back to the room.

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Next Chapter: The Way He Returns to You

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[raccoonsrummagerostrum]

can you write fluff for gay trans man who just had a simple metoidioplasty and needs comfort from their yautja husband?

A/N1: Thank you so much for the request!! I've written this to be more gender neutral as that's what I prefer. But hopefully it's done in a way where anyone can put themselves into this. 

Yautja vs bottom surgery recovery 

GN!Yautja x GN!Trans!reader comfort

Word count: 1105

Warnings: Mentions of surgery, surgery recovery, pain, taking pills, very slight mentions of bathroom use (really it's nothing, just covering my bases), mild nudity, reader is trans

Summary: Your lover dutifully cares for you during bottom surgery recovery, sharing in both the good and bad moments.

A/N2: For those wondering, a Simple Metoidioplasty is the creation of a penis using existing genital tissue by way of surgically enlarging an already enlarged clitoris. It's one hell of a surgery and my heart goes out to anyone who has had this, y'all are braver than the troops.

Your transition would not be where it was without your friends. There were only a few who you trusted with something this sensitive. Coincidentally these were also the same friends who you trusted with knowledge of your relationship. Predictably having an alien predator for a partner was not the easiest thing. You knew full well that oomans were easily scared of things that they don't understand. It was paramount that their existence not be found out. 

Unfortunately it was due to this fact that they could not accompany you to your surgery. Despite how much they wanted to, and how much you wanted them to, you both knew that it just wasn’t possible. Thankfully your friends picked up the slack. Driving you to surgery, hanging out with you as you woke up, and driving you home. They even picked up your recovery prescriptions. Once you were back home your friends made sure that you were comfortable and that you had everything that you needed, wishing your lover good luck when they left. 

Prior to surgery you and your lover had done extensive research into recovery. And during patient education you had brought back any and all reading material for your lover to read as well. So as you continued to wake from the anesthetic, your lover was well prepared and was already tending to your needs. 

You were sat in a nest on the couch, one that you had arranged prior to surgery so that you wouldn't have to futz with it now. But that would not stop you. Your lover, knowing you would be hungry, brought over some pre approved snacks only to find you attempting to stand.

“SIT DOWN OOMAN,” they shrieked. You in your delirious state, still comming down from the anistesia, did not take this seriously and continued rearranging the nest, only to be cut off by your lover effortlessly picking you up. You whined, but still knew that resistance was futile. Instead you directed them like a contractor to a build crew. Once settled down again your lover distracted you with snacks and cuddles, and you were happy. For a while.

--

That night you woke up in an immense amount of pain. Earlier in the day your lover had tried to offer you the pain meds that had been prescribed to you, but you felt fine, and insisted you didn't need them. But now you found yourself regretting that.

You and your lover were still on the couch. You gently rubbed your hand on the top of their elongated head. They chuffed softly in response, before opening their eyes and looking up at you.

“It hurts,” You whine. Without another word they got up and walked across the room to grab that bag of medications. They sifted through the bag, and found the bottle to find the painkillers. Returning to you, they opened the lid and handed you the bottle. Pouring out a dose you reached for your water, only for the empty bottle to be taken from you. Before you had even realized that it was empty your lover filled it and brought it back to you. After this your lover was much more diligent in keeping up on your pills, and pain management. Even when you weren’t in pain, they made sure that you took your pills.

--

Going to the bathroom was difficult. Walking to the bathroom was difficult. But your ever diligent lover was there. Their genuine curiosity really helped as you knew there was no judgment. They would have carried you if you had asked. But you knew that walking, difficult as it was, was still important for recovery. Your lover dutifully fulfilled every request, and carefully guided you back to your nest when you were done. 

--

The time had come for your first post op appointment. Once again your friends came through to help you out, driving you to and from your appointment, and celebrating at the amazing results. Coming back home, your lover was ecstatic. After months and months of preparation, you and your lover could finally bask in the fruits of your surgeon's labor. 

You sat at the edge of your nest, a blanket pulled over your lap. Despite how close you and your lover had needed to be over the last two weeks, and how much of your body they had seen before, you still found yourself overcome with bashfulness. Your lover, knowing you almost too well, rested a hand on your calf. Their claws gently scratched your skin, and they purred loudly enough for you to feel it in your chest. Their mere presence helped to calm you and instill confidence, but they didn’t stop there.

“I know how long you have waited for this, I too have waited many revelations for this. I don’t mind waiting a little longer.” Their voice was deep and smooth. And the statement was underlined by a long sustained purr. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. For a moment you closed your eyes and focused on your lover. The gentle scratch of their claws on your skin, their eerily slow breathing, the persistence purr rumbling in their chest.

When you opened your eyes you easily moved the blanket and opened your legs to show your lover the post op results. They stared intently at your core, taking in every detail of the new sight. You felt your body becoming shy again but forced it down not wanting to interrupt them. They continued staring for a long while before they turned their gaze back up to you. The corners of their eyes were upturned, and their mandibles hung open in as much of a smile as their anatomy would allow. The shyness fully overtook you, closing your legs and covering your face as a red blush flowed across your cheeks. Your lover took this as an opportunity to show you just how much they love you. Leaning down they caressed your thigh with their mandibles, they allowed their tounge to loll out and make contact with your skin as it grew hot to the touch under all this attention.

Sensing your growing shyness they came up and held you. They pushed their forehead against your face, pushing your hands out of the way. You both embraced each other. You knew that there was still plenty of recovery ahead of you. Your doctor had warned that there could be up to a year and a half before full recovery. But you didn’t worry, you felt secure in the knowledge that your lover would be there always, effortlessly fulfilling every request, carrying out every ask, and never leaving your side.

#writing #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja #fanfic #surgery #botom surgery #trans reader #gender neutral reader #predator alien #comfort #fluff #trans pride