#(and sad given context😅)

[duskandcobalt]

Everywhere, Everything: Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary: Elain heads back to Velaris for Christmas after rejecting Graysen's marriage proposal.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: mentions of dv (please see authors note below), smattering of smut (18+ pls)

Missed the first six chapters? You can find the Masterlist for this fic here 🥰

A/N: *peaks out from the hole I've been hiding in* heyyyy  😅

Once again, I must begin by saying thank you for all your lovely comments and messages about this fic and all the others. I cannot appreicate how much it means to me. A special thank you to everyone who's checked in with me over the past few months and given me kindess, support, and patience. There are some lovely people on this app and I am so honoured that you choose to read and engage with my fic.

Please note that there is a very brief mention of domestic violence in this chapter within the context of a conversation. If that's something you'd rather skip reading, please feel free to do what's best for you.

ENJOY XX

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The fire was dwindling down, empty cups were scattered on every available surface, Christmas music played over the speakers, and wrapping paper was strewn on the floor of Azriel’s living room. 

It’d been a Christmas like all the others - drinking and eating and lots of gifts exchanged, though Nyx had made out the best of  anyone, spoiled rotten by all of his aunties and uncles. They’d played a few games, exchanged a bit of gossip about mutual acquaintances, and throughout all the festivities, Azriel had kept a careful eye on Elain. 

He watched her now, his brows pulling together above the rim of the whisky glass he’d raised up to his lips. She was sitting quietly in her usual spot on his couch, lazily tracing circles around the rim of her nearly empty wine glass. 

There was something different about her tonight that he couldn't quite place but he was determined to figure out. While everyone else had been enjoying themselves, he could sense a peculiar cloud of something sad that seemed to follow Elain around no matter how hard she tried to smile and laugh and pretend like everything was okay when it was clear - to him, at least - that things were far from fine.

His first sign that something was wrong was when Elain had walked into his house earlier, avoiding eye contact and barely even bothering with a proper hug as she muttered a ‘Merry Christmas’ and a ‘thank you for hosting’ all while hiding behind a pile of gifts stacked tall in her arms. Even when she'd come back home with Graysen in tow she hadn't held back from him like that and her iciness had caught him completely off guard. 

He’d been so anxious to see her again after all this time, that he hadn’t fully considered the reality of the situation. Azriel knew that the last time they’d seen each other had been tense but it hadn't ended badly by any means. And sure, he hadn't spoken to her properly in well over half a year but she replied to his sparse texts and he still woke up to a voice note from her on his birthday so he’d figured that that had to count for something. That maybe that was to be their new normal. He’d resigned himself to taking what he could get - that’s what he’d told her after all on Nesta’s porch that night. He wanted her in his life in whatever way he could have her. 

The second thing to clue him in that something was wrong was that right after she’d placed the presents under the Christmas tree, Elain had made a beeline to the kitchen and poured herself a shot of whatever bottle of alcohol her eyes had landed on first.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to seeing her drink, although she’d certainly never been a drinker in the way the rest of their friend group indulged, but he’d never once seen her drink like this - knocking back shot after shot when she thought no one was watching. It was rare for her to even pour a drink without asking if she could. Almost a decade of knowing her and Elain always asked permission no matter how many times he insisted that she help herself to whatever she wanted. 

Azriel had counted at least seven trips to the kitchen tonight - all for a drink, none for food. Even the speciality cheese she adored and that he’d purchased just for her after she confirmed her attendance, sat untouched. But for having downed a minimum of seven drinks, she didn’t really appear to be all that drunk. He had to give her credit because she held her alcohol surprisingly well - the only real give away that she was drunk was a slight stumble as she stood up from the sofa the last time she went to the kitchen and a droop to her eyelids that could be attributed to exhaustion.

Elain had sat quietly most of the night, speaking only when spoken to and channelling most of her attention on Nyx when he’d been awake but now that her nephew was fast asleep on the sofa next to her, Shadow curled up at his feet, she had no real distraction and Azriel watched curiously as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, opening her mouth a dozen times as if to speak only to seemingly decide against it and retreat back into herself. 

He’d planned on once again cornering her to try and figure out what the hell was going on and to see if there was absolutely anything he could do to ease whatever clearly ailed her. He’d intended to follow her into the kitchen the next time she went to drown her sorrows but he never got the chance because after a prolonged moment of silence amongst the group - she finally spoke. 

Azriel all but froze as Elain cleared her throat and wrung her hands together in her lap, tugging at the sleeves of the long sleeved black top she was wearing. Her empty glass of wine had been carefully placed on the coffee table in front of her.

“Graysen proposed,” she hiccupped, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears as she delivered her news without even a second of preamble. 

The two words were softly spoken and she’d said them in one breath with no break in between but Azriel heard her loud and clear.

His stomach dropped, the three or four drinks he’d consumed turned sour in his stomach and did very little to ease the pain of his heart slamming against his chest as Nesta and Feyre began firing off question after question - all of which were ignored by Elain and none of which he could actually hear over the incessant buzzing in his ears. 

He prayed that he’d heard her wrong. Prayed that there was no way she’d actually said what he thought she’d said. It wasn’t until he saw Feyre reach for Elain’s left hand that Azriel forced himself to focus, his eyes zeroing in on her fingers - at the vacant space where one would expect to find a ring after an announcement such as the one Elain had just made. 

“I said no,” she whispered, catching Feyre’s confused expression as her sister’s index finger slid over Elain’s bare skin. 

No. 

She’d said no. She’d said no. She’d said no. 

Azriel repeated the words to himself over and over again as it was his own personal mantra, drilling it into his head as he finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn’t look at her face, couldn’t bear to find out what expression he’d find there. All he could do was stare at her hand - at that perfect, unadorned finger - no glimmering diamond to be found. 

“A few months ago,” he heard her tell the girls. 

“Why’d you say no?” Nesta asked, her voice soft although Azriel could hear the smallest inkling of relief in it that mirrored his own feelings. He wondered if maybe Nesta had seen through Graysen’s facade as well and had quietly hoped that her cousin would come to her senses and leave him. 

Azriel tore his attention away from Elain’s fingers and up to her face only to watch as her eyes lifted to meet his for a fleeting moment before she quickly looked away from him and back to Nesta. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “We hadn’t even talked about it and I was caught so off guard. It just didn’t feel right.” She took a deep, staggering breath, Azriel could see the shimmer of tears beginning to well along her lash line. “I don’t think I ever really loved him…. I never really like them all that much.”

She said the last part to herself, a drunken admission whispered to the floor. It was a confession that she’d spent her entire adult life with men that she didn’t even truly care for. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to wonder why she did what she did or why she’d finally admitted it. He wouldn’t let himself consider that maybe she found herself staying in meaningless relationship after meaningless relationship for the same reason he found himself avoiding them all together. 

“I think… I think I may need to lay down,” Elain muttered after a moment of tense, awkward silence. It was clear that no one in the room quite knew what to say or do. Feyre and Nesta were staring at her dumbfounded. Cassian and Rhys were exchanging mildly panicked looks as they tried to figure out what to do in this situation. “I feel a little dizzy all of a sudden.”

“Come upstairs,” Azriel was on his feet before he could even think to stop himself, speaking without even consciously meaning to as he bypassed Feyre and Nesta to get to Elain. He stepped forward, one hand outstretched towards her. 

He didn't miss the look Feyre gave Nesta. A silent enquiry as to whether they should let him take her upstairs - as if the two of them knew what had happened the last time he and Elain had been left alone on Christmas. Nesta just nodded, one subtle dip of her chin that had Feyre watching in stunned silence as Elain placed her hand in Azriel’s. 

Neither of the girls had ever said anything to him about that night other than to acknowledge that Elain had, in fact, flown home the following morning. An emergency at work was the flimsy excuse Nesta had given him the following day when he’d called her and done his best to enquire about Elain’s whereabouts without raising any suspicion. 

Azriel carefully pulled Elain up, keeping her hand in his as his other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright as he slowly and carefully led her up his stairs, guiding her to the guest room a couple doors down from his own bedroom. 

He flipped back the duvet and sat her down on the bed. He could feel her eyes on him as she silently watched him lower himself to his knees so he could unzip her boots and slide them off her feet. 

“Lay back,” he tapped gently on her calf, hands hovering around her in case she needed help. 

“Not the first time you’ve said that to me,” Elain quipped, flopping back in a less than graceful manner before turning onto her side to face him. There was the tiniest smirk on her lips, the smallest bit of amusement shining in her sad eyes. He almost found himself smiling at the drunken comment until her expression changed, those pretty lips of hers turning down at the corners. 

“Az.. will you stay with me? After everyone goes?” 

Azriel grimaced, ignoring the pull from the part of his heart that was ready and willing to bend to her every whim. “I can’t, Elain.” 

“Why?” Her eyebrows pulled together to create a small crease on her forehead. He fought the urge to reach out and smooth away that visible line of tension with a gentle pass of his thumb. “You always used to stay with me.” 

“It’s different now,” he exhaled, shoulders dropping as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not mine, Elain.”

“That’s not true,” Elain frowned, fighting to keep her eyes open. “I’ve always been yours.” She said it with every bit of drunken sincerity in the world, whispered soft and sweet even as she lost the battle to sleep and her eyes began to flutter shut. 

Her words were like a knife to his heart. He knew she never would’ve said it if the amount of alcohol in her bloodstream didn’t outweigh her good senses. He had no idea whether she’d even remember any of this in the morning. 

“Why did you stay with him? If you didn’t love him? If you didn’t like any of the others? Why would you stay with them?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask, going against his better judgement to seek an explanation for the questions that had haunted him for years even if he knew that whatever answer she gave him, it was unlikely to offer him any semblance of peace. 

“It’s easier to pretend if there’s someone else,” Elain’s hands came up to her throat, her fingertips mindlessly searching for something. She frowned when she came up empty, her nails digging into the space between her collarbones instead. The sight unsettled Azriel enough to momentarily distract him from what she’d just said. 

The necklace he’d given her on her birthday a few years ago, the one she’d worn religiously every day since, the one that tethered her to him, was missing from her neck and it was like a punch to his gut. 

“The chain broke,” Elain whispered, having followed his line of sight to where he’d been openly staring at the place the gold pendant had sat against her skin for half a decade. “It’s in my bag, I was hoping you’d be able to fix it.”

Azriel nodded, relieved that she hadn’t actually taken the necklace off herself. He stood there, arms hanging uselessly at his side for a couple more seconds until her eyelids drifted shut once again. He walked towards the door, deciding to let her sleep this off, but he paused before he could leave, turning towards her once more. 

He thought maybe he was a sadist because asking these questions, pushing for these answers, would only serve to expand that ever growing crack in his heart. Still, he couldn't seem to help himself. 

“Lain?” Part of him hoped that she’d already drifted off to sleep, that she wouldn’t answer and he wouldn’t get to ask his question and have to hear her response.. 

“Yeah, Az?” The corner of her eyes crinkled as she looked at him, squinting. 

“What did you mean?” He asked. “When you said it’s easier to pretend?”

She paused for a moment, teeth scraping over her bottom lip as she turned so she was on her back, her eyes focused on the ceiling. 

“When I’m with someone else,” she started, voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear her over the music carrying up the stairs and under the gap in the door. “It’s easier to distract myself from the fact that sometimes I want you so badly, I think it might kill me.” 

The ache in his chest was so sharp and so immediate that he had to grip the handle on the door harder just to feel like he had some sort of control over his body. He had no idea what to do with that information. Had no idea what to say back. He’d waited what felt like a lifetime to hear her say those words to him, he’d just never imagined that it would be so painful. 

He couldn’t speak, could barely even remember his name. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been silent until he noticed that she’d fallen asleep, her head now tilted towards him. 

Azriel set his shoulders and backed out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. He took a deep breath, pushing back every bit of emotion that he felt, before slowly making his way back downstairs.

Elain stuck an arm out from under the covers, her fingers blindly reaching to her nightstand for her phone. It wasn’t until she felt the sharp corner of a wooden surface instead of the rounded edge of her own bedside table that she realised that she wasn’t at home in her own bed. She peeked out from under the covers, taking in her surroundings with one blurry eye. 

Light was beginning to filter in through a pair of cream curtains covering a rather large window. The bed she was in was comfy and not completely unfamiliar, the bed linen looked similar to a set that she’d helped Azriel choose back when they’d gone shopping for… 

“Fuck,” Elain groaned, sitting up and dragging her hands over her face. 

She wasn’t at home. She wasn’t in her designated room at her sister’s house. No - she’d been fast asleep in Azriel’s guest bedroom. 

It didn’t take much to figure out just how she’d ended up here. The pounding in her head and the dryness in her mouth were enough to tell her that she’d maybe taken it a little too far with the alcohol last night.

She’d started drinking before they’d even left Feyre’s, just a couple of glasses while getting ready that she told herself were for liquid courage. She’d known the second that they pulled into Azriel’s driveway that she’d need far more to get through seeing him again under a whole new set of circumstances that only she was privy to and so she’d thrown caution to the wind and had been throwing back drinks any chance she got. 

She really hadn’t even been planning on telling anyone about the proposal but after an hour or so of drinking, she’d felt the urge to say it - to let them know what had happened. To let them know she and Graysen were done. Elain couldn’t remember much past the moment she’d drunkenly blurted out the news.. she remembered Feyre and Nesta’s surprised faces and the faraway look on Azriel’s face when she’d dared to glance at him but everything past that moment seemed to be a blur. 

If she really tried to push for details, she could vaguely remember being helped up the stairs because she was too far gone to manage on her own but that was all her hungover brain could string together.

“Lain?” The low register of Azriel’s morning voice rumbled through the door as a knock lightly sounded on the surface. “You up? Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, come in!” She called back, wincing at how sore her voice sounded in her ears.

Elain sat up, quickly running a hand through her tangled hair as she propped up a pillow behind her and let the duvet fall to her waist. It was so much colder in this room than she’d expected and she didn’t fully register why until Azriel walked in. 

“Morning, how you feeling? I brought some -” he’d been halfway through his sentence, sleepy eyes scanning over her until they widened at the exact same time the tips of his ears went red. 

She’d lost her top at some point during the night - something she hadn’t realised until the cold morning air had hit her bare skin. Azriel turned around quickly, the glass of water in his hand sloshing over slightly with the speed at which he averted his gaze.  “Fuck. Sorry! I thought.. You said to come in and I thought… fuck .” 

Elain quickly tugged the sheets back up to her chin, fighting the urge to pull them over her head altogether and suffocate herself from embarrassment. Twice now, she’d woken up in Azriel’s house on the day after Christmas naked in one of his beds. Maybe next year she’d check off the last remaining room. 

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t even realise I - wait, you can turn around…” she fumbled with her words, watching as he slowly turned to face her. His cheeks were pink and the hand that wasn’t cradling a glass of water and an entire pack of headache tablets came up to fidget with the worn neck of the old t-shirt he’d chucked on this morning. “I always get so hot at night and I usually sleep with a fan and I just must’ve… taken it off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I should’ve gotten you a change of clothes but I didn’t want to…” he trailed off, coming closer to hand her the water as he opened up the packet of tablets and slipped out a few. “I barely saw anything, if that helps.” 

Elain took the tablets from him. “Barely anything, huh?”

She took a small bit of satisfaction from the way he frowned in confusion before he caught on, the blush that had finally subsided from his cheeks came back full force. 

“ Not what I meant,” Azriel shook his head, raking a hand through his hair as she tossed back the tablets. “There’s plenty to see… just the right amount.”

“I’d stop speaking now if I were you,” Elain rolled her eyes. “Thank you for the tablets and the water and for letting me stay the night.”

“It’s nothing,” Azriel shrugged, gingerly sitting on the very edge of the bed. His eyes scanned over her again, lingering on the bare skin of her shoulder that had escaped the cover of the duvet before they slid to her fingers and then back up to her face. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“Could be better,” she answered, realising that she hadn’t actually gotten around to responding the first time he’d asked her. “Can’t drink like I used to, I suppose.”

“You’ve never drank like that, Lain.” Azriel chuckled. “I think that’s part of the problem.”

He was right. She was notoriously a lightweight when it came to alcohol and had never needed more than four or five drinks before she was just the right amount of drunk. 

“A shower and some food and I’ll feel brand new,” she sighed. 

“I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes,” he nodded, fingers mindlessly tapping at his knee. “Have a shower and come down, I’ll make you some breakfast and then if you’re up for it we can go over to the studio and I’ll fix your necklace. Fresh air might do you some good.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Az. I’ll call Feyre to pick me up and get out of your way.” Elain started to look around for where she might’ve tossed her top, suddenly anxious that she’d been here too long. That she was eating into his day, once again taking up time that she didn’t deserve. 

“I know that I don’t have to, Elain. I want to.” He insisted, voice gentle as ever as he looked over at her. “You aren’t in my way.”

Elain didn’t say anything, just looked down at her lap as he stood up, adjusting the waistband of the plaid pajama pants he had on. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?” 

“What?”

“Pancakes,” Azriel clarified, a shy grin on his lips. “Chocolate chip or blueberry?” 

“Blueberry, please.” Elain couldn’t help but mirror her grin, especially when her stomach audibly grumbled at the mere mention of food. 

An hour or so later, Elain sat quietly, perched  on a bench top in Azriel’s workshop. She was warm from the scorching shower she’d taken and clothed in an assortment of clothes that he’d handed her with a towel this morning - his shirt, his sweatpants… a lacy pair of underwear she recognised as the ones she hadn’t bothered to search for when she’d snuck out of his house the previous year.

She watched him as he took a seat, sliding a frame of protective glasses over his eyes before he fired up a small torch. He situated himself, leaning forward as he began to carefully solder Elain’s necklace back together. 

She told herself she was just watching a master at work but her attention had drifted from the actual work being done to focus on the movement of his deft fingers, the shifting muscles of his strong back and shoulders. She studied the side of his face - the slope of his nose, the concentrated furrow of his brows, the way his lips pressed together as he worked. 

She didn’t realise just how intensely she’d been staring at him until she found herself looking into his actual eyes rather than just his side profile. Elain quickly sat up straight, rolling her shoulders as she lowered her eyes and tried to keep her cheeks from flooding with colour. 

“You said the necklace broke while you were changing,” Azriel stood up, pushing his glasses back, using them like a headband to keep his thick hair off of his forehead. It was ridiculous that he managed to look good even like that. 

“The way the chain was broken,” he spoke carefully as he approached her. “It didn’t look like a simple snag, it looked like there was some force behind it. 

Elain swallowed, her cheeks now burning for an entirely different reason. She turned to look out of the window to her right, pretending to watch the snow as it drifted lazily from the cold, gray sky. 

“Lain?” Azriel tried again. He was standing in front of her now, just inches from her knees. “How did the necklace really break?”

Elain paused, unsure how to proceed or what to even say. She couldn’t lie to him. Not again. She’d told herself in the shower this morning - after she’d had a small cry and wallowed in self pity - that this needed to be a new start, that she couldn’t keep shutting him out. Especially now that she no longer had the excuse of having a boyfriend in the picture. 

“Graysen… he didn’t like the necklace very much,” she started. “He always had an issue with it, even before he met you. He didn’t like that I never took it off or that it was from a friend . It only got worse after he came home with me and saw us and then when I… when he proposed and I said no, he said that if I didn’t want to accept the ring, I needed to take off the necklace. I guess to prove that I cared about him even if I didn’t want to marry him just yet.” 

“You didn’t take the necklace off,” Azriel stated, eyes boring into her even though she couldn’t quite bring herself to look back at him. 

“I couldn’t do it,” Elain’s voice shook slightly as she thought back to that night. “He obviously wasn’t happy with my choice and so he just… he reached forward and pulled it off of me.”

Elain’s eyes were shut, her heart racing at the memory of how she’d felt that night. How alone she’d been, how momentarily afraid. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Azriel that she’d woken to a small, raised scar on the side of her neck the next morning. She hadn’t realised that she’d been crying until Azriel’s hand cupped her face, the rough pad of his thumb gently sweeping across her cheek to brush away hot tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled.

“What are you apologising for?” Azriel asked. 

She could hear the restraint in his voice, the underlying anger that he carried on her behalf. 

“I don’t know,” Elain finally looked at him, giving him a sad smile. “I’ve just been so awful to you for so long now.” 

“You haven’t,” he assured her. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Lain. I just hope you know that how he acted - pulling this off of you - that’s not okay. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“I shouldn’t have led him on…” she shook her head. “I wasted his time. I wasted yours… he was right to be angry with me.” 

“Look at me,” Azriel demanded, palm sliding from her cheek down to her jaw so that he could tilt her face up towards his. “None of that matters.”

“It does though because I -” 

“Elain, did he ever…” Elain’s eyes travelled to the clench of his jaw, the way his throat flexed as he trailed off. “If he put his hands on you…” 

“No, Az.” Elain lifted her hand up to cover his where it still cradled her face. “There were words occasionally and he’d… when we… never mind,” she blushed, swallowing away the bitterness at remembering what the sex had been like after an argument or whenever he’d been jealous. “It was never… he never hit me.” She said finally.

Elain studied Azriel’s face carefully. Let him see that she was okay. That the only marker that anything had happened was a broken necklace that was easily mended. 

She knew where his mind had gone - knew his fears of her being treated the same way his mother had been treated. 

He’d confided in her years ago - told her about what he’d witnessed growing up and the anger he felt towards the man he didn’t even care to call father. Explained how ashamed he felt at being too small to really be able to do anything to help. 

Elain couldn’t bear the thought of him feeling like that again. Certainly not over her. 

“Azriel,” she squeezed his fingers to get his full attention. “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.” 

“Okay,” he nodded eventually, worried eyes meeting hers for one more moment as if to confirm that she was in fact unharmed before he leaned back and picked up her necklace from where he’d sat it on the bench next to her hip. “Here, just like new.” 

Elain didn’t reach for the necklace, instead she just gave him a shy smile and echoed the question she’d asked him when he first presented her with this necklace all those years ago. “Put it on me?” 

Azriel returned her smile with one just as shy, waiting as she gathered her hair and twisted it up to move it out of the way. His hands slipped around her neck, the chain cold against her skin. 

Azriel’s head dipped so that he could see what he was doing, his cheek skimming her hair as he took his time fastening the necklace. She’d missed the feeling, the reassuarance that the small bit of gold nestled against her chest provided her. 

“Last night… Did you mean what you said?” His question was so quiet, half hushed by the way his face was tilted into her hair. 

“Oh god,” she groaned, dread seeping through her veins. 

She’d been wondering all morning what had happened last night, had been trying to fill in the blanks between the bits she could remember… which wasn’t all that much. She was scared to even ask - afraid to know all the ways she might’ve embarrassed herself the previous night. “I don’t really remember what was said, to be honest.” 

He finally pulled back and straightened up, hands reaching forward to gently maneuver the necklace until it sat just right around her neck. Each brush of his fingers against her skin made her shiver in a way that she couldn’t possibly hide from him. 

The way that he was looking at her certainly didn’t help. Neither did the drag of his thumb against her neck, right over a pulsing vein that gave away her racing heart. 

“Right,” Azriel gave her a nervous smile that made her stomach drop in anticipation. “When Nesta asked you why you said no…”

“I do remember that part,” she cut him off, unable to bear hearing it again although she knew it could only get worse. 

“Well, when it was just us upstairs, after you’d asked me to stay -”

“Jesus, Az, I’m sorry -”

“Not something to apologise for,” the fingers of his other hand tapped out a pattern on her knee that caused yet another shiver to zip up her spine. “I asked you why you stayed with Graysen or with any of the others if you didn’t even actually like them and you told me that it was easier to do that than admit that you, um… wanted me.”

Elain bit the inside of her cheek as she glanced away from him yet again.

“Is that true?” Azriel prodded her for an answer and when she found the courage to look at him again, the look in his eyes, the unmistakable heat, threatened to stop her heart altogether. 

“What happens if I say yes?” She felt breathless, a little dizzy. Just like she felt a year ago when she’d been in a very similar situation - sat on a countertop, Azriel standing in between her knees. Their entire world balancing on a precipice. 

She wasn’t sure when she’d started to lean into his touch. Couldn’t pinpoint when her face had moved so close to his that his nose practically grazed hers. She had no way to tell if he had leaned down or if she had keened upwards, her body arching up to him like a flower seeking the sun. She didn’t know when any of it had happened but she didn’t fight it as her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in anticipation. 

Waiting. Wanting.

He didn’t answer her, only smoothed his thumb over her throat once more before repeating his own question. “Is it true, Elain?” 

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice verging on desperation. 

Azriel swallowed once, eyes tracing a slow path from her eyes to her lips before he answered her with action. 

Their lips met, clumsily at first though they fell into rhythm quickly, muscle memory kicking in as their mouths came together in a way that bordered on frantic. Her hands tangled in his hair while his ventured to her waist, pulling her into him while simultaneously pushing her further back onto the workbench until she was practically flat against it, his body pressing hers down.

“Elain…” Azriel’s voice was almost pained as he said her name, his lips coasting along her jaw, a different kind of restraint in his tone than the restraint he’d spoken with a few minutes before.

“Please,” she all but whimpered, desperate to feel his lips on hers again. 

“Can’t do this if you’re going to run again afterwards, Elain.” He told her, his hands still wandering, sliding under the soft fabric of the shirt she wore. His shirt. 

“I mean… my flight is booked for tomorrow,” she couldn’t help but joke, squealing and squirming as his fingers pressed into her side as punishment. 

“S’not funny,” he grumbled. 

“Sorry, sorry…” she schooled her face into a serious expression. “I do have to go tomorrow but it won’t be because of this, Az. Not this time. I promise.”

“We have a lot of talking to do,” Azriel told her, all the while his hands travelled further up her torso until his fingers grazed the soft skin of her breasts. 

Just that slight touch had her tugging him down towards her as she leaned further back once more, presenting herself to him. His for the taking. 

“Later,” she told him. “Talk later.”

She knew it was stupid  - to once again go down this route without having properly spoken about what they were doing. What this was. If it was even anything. All she knew was that she was tired of pretending. Tired of being afraid of the unknowns, of the what ifs. She wished she had any idea how this would all end, how it would play out. But that was a conversation for another day. Right now, all she wanted, all she needed , was this.  

“Later,” Azriel agreed, smiling into the crook of her neck before coming back up to kiss her again. This time it was unrushed, almost lazy. He took his time familiarising himself with her mouth the same way he took his time circling her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned into his mouth - half at the blissful feeling of his hands on her skin, half at the memory of what that same motion had felt like when he’d slid his hand up under her skirt the last time they’d done this. 

“Always want you like this,” she admitted, mind hazy as his mouth travelled down her neck and over her sternum as he pushed up her t-shirt until his lips were on the bare skin of her stomach. 

“Yeah?” his fingers tucked into the waistband of her sweatpants, tugging them down as she lifted her hips to aid in the process. Her underwear was pulled to the side, his fingers gliding over her entirely too easily with how wet she was for him. She heard him swear under his breath, in awe at his effect on her.

“Always,” she reiterated, gasping as he slowly slid a finger inside her. “For you. Always like this for you. Az, please can we just -”

She was speaking complete gibberish, anxious to get what she’d been coveting all this time even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself. She didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Don’t have a condom with me,” he told her with a kiss to the inside of her thigh as he continued to touch her. She was distracted from her disappointment when he added another finger - tested the stretch of her. 

“You don’t have any here?” The lack of a condom hadn’t been an issue last time but it had been a year and she knew Azriel had a rotation of girls that he occasionally saw so when he didn’t follow up with a but I haven’t been with anyone, she didn’t let herself linger on it for too long. 

“Don’t really make it a habit to have sex in my workplace very often, or ever, to be honest. Safety concerns and all…” he trailed off, his breath hot over where she ached for his touch. “So this might just have to do for now, wanna make you co-”

His words were cut off by a shrill ring from somewhere besides them. 

“Ignore it,” she told him, hips tilting up in search of more as she flung a hand out to the side in search of her phone. Her fingers blindly fumbled on the screen until the ringing stopped. 

Azriel continued, fingers curling in just the right way as he circled her clit with his tongue - ever so slowly bringing her closer and closer to the edge. 

“Az, oh my God, I think, I think -” Elain gasped, grasping at his hair. She wanted to tell him she was close, to not stop, that she was going to come. But the shrill ring of her phone sounded again, effectively ruining the moment.

“You should probably get that,” Azriel reluctantly pulled away, fingers slipping out of her. He sighed deeply, forehead resting against her bare thigh as she reached for her phone and glanced at the screen. 

Two missed calls and fourteen unread texts. If it wasn’t for previous trauma of missed calls and texts, she might’ve let it go and urged Azriel to continue. She tapped on the screen a little harder than necessary.

“Hello, Nesta.” Elain huffed as she sat up, gently pushing Azriel away as she adjusted her underwear and pulled her pants up and her shirt back down. 

Azriel grinned, shamelessly watching as Elain made herself decent to speak to her sister while she tried to pretend like she hadn’t been splayed out on his workbench half naked, with his mouth in between her thighs mere moments ago. 

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been texting you all morning, it’s almost one in the afternoon. I’m glad to know you’re alive.” Nesta rattled off, exasperated. “Azriel wasn’t answering his phone either.” 

“I’m alive. I’m with him. I’ll be home soon.” Elain’s words were short. She couldn’t keep the annoyance out of her voice at having their time so rudely interrupted. 

She knew the moment was over, that she’d need to go back to her sisters and explain herself. God knows they’d be anxiously waiting for answers now that she’d sobered up. But her disappointment faded because the way Azriel was watching her with bright, happy eyes and lips swollen from kissing her more than made up for it. 

She half listened to whatever Nesta was saying, too focused on the man in front of her - his dark, messy hair. His broad shoulders and strong arms. His calloused hands. All those tattoos that snaked up his arms and over his chest - old, familiar ones and a few new pieces that she longed to learn about. His enviably long eyelashes. Those kind emerald flecked eyes.

This was Azriel. Her Azriel. Her best friend. 

How could she have ever thought this was anything but exactly right?

[spocks-husband]

I'm vaguely academically interested in Buddhism, but have no idea what questions to ask 😅

Do you have any facts/stories/whatever you're willing to share?

Yeah totally! I love talking about my faith. I think my favorite story is about Lord Shakyamuni Buddha and His wife-- because a lot of people don't know He was married! I'll go with a simpler tale first though, to give context to that one.

The story of The Buddha is pretty well known, but I'll relay it here anyways if anyone is unfamiliar (and also just cause I love talking about it lol) and then maybe I'll tell the story about His wife and son some other time if anyone wants it. Plus I included some art I love at the end!

A long, long time ago (a little over 2500 years ago to be precise), a prince was born in what is now known as Nepal. His father was given a prophecy by a wise man who said that the prince would either grow up to be a great spiritual leader or a great and powerful king. Obviously, the king wanted an heir to the throne, so he decided that the prince would never be allowed into the outside world, He would spend all His life inside the comforts of the palace where He would have every luxury one could desire-- that way, He would have no incentive to become a spiritual guide in the first place.

When the prince was about 30, though, He grew curious and snuck out of the palace with one of His servants. In the outside world, He encountered a wandering ascetic, an aging man, a terribly sick man, and a corpse-- and He was horrified! He'd never known there was such suffering in the world, and when He asked the servant about it He was shocked to discover that not only was this pain inevitable, but that every person-- from a king to a slave-- would experience it in their lifetime.

He returned to the palace, but He grew disillusioned with the pleasures of his upbringing. He had no interest in His concubines, nor the extravagant food they prepared for Him. It's said that during this period of sadness, the birds stopped singing and the whole world wept with Him.

After a few weeks, He decided He simply couldn't stand by and do nothing. So, He cut His hair (a symbol of chastity), gave up all His worldly possessions, and disappeared into the night.

He spent many years wandering the forest, encountering different people and things that are detailed in other stories. In time, He decided to sit down under a Bodhi tree and meditate-- and He meditated for a whole month! When He finally opened his eyes, He realized the great truths of the world; He had become The Buddha-- The Enlightened One.

However-- (this is my favorite part of the story)-- His journey wasn't over yet!! Mārā The Tempter, a demon king, had arrived! He tried to send his three beautiful daughters to seduce The Buddha, but He had no interest in worldly pleasures, and cast them aside with ease. Mārā grew frustrated and arrived with his army of demons and monsters, weapons drawn, but The Buddha was not afraid. Mārā, in an attempt to intimidate The Buddha, said "You are sitting in my seat! That place under the Bodhi tree belongs to me!"

The Buddha calmly replied, "No, this is my place."

"And who is your witness to that?!" Mārā growled.

Lord Buddha placed His hand on the ground and smiled. "The Earth is my witness," He said calmly. As He touched the Earth, Mārā's forces shot their arrows at Him, but in an instant they all turned to flowers and drifted peacefully to the ground. Mārā had been vanquished!

With that, Lord Buddha knew that it was His duty to spread the knowledge he'd gained to as many people as he could, and He spent the rest of His life as a great teacher until He eventually died and continued on to Nirvana.

That's just my basic rundown of the story-- the details kinda depend on who's telling it, but that's how I like to remember it! Also here's some of my favorite Buddhist art that's related/semi related because it makes me happy :3

Also if anyone wants to hear about novice monks I can literally talk about them forever THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY 😭😭

[oneoftheeggs]

Lucifer bridal carrying Adam. Y/N?

Lucifer bridal carrying Adam, coming up!

[I do know what Y/N stands for, but I am not sure what it means in this context 😅 or, are you just referring to me?]

Anyway! Here we go (I hope this is at least decent - I wrote this after the third day at a con with way too little sleep - truth be told, I don't know if you wanted me to write something in the first place, but I was inspired! Also... oops, it got a little sad)

Lucifer didn’t know what had compelled him to take another look at Adam’s body. Maybe it had been simple curiosity. Maybe he had wanted to see if in his final moments Adam had been the man he had been in live or the monster he had become in death. Maybe he had just wanted to take a little break from rebuilding the hotel, to try and collect his thoughts and taking a step away, to look at the corpse, had been a welcome excuse. Either way, he had made his way to Adam and decided to look at him for but a moment. Sooner or later, they would need to get rid of the body. At least that’s what Lucifer was thinking, as he knelt on one knee, to take a closer look. Adam’s face, covered in blood and bruises, seemed almost peaceful. His eyes were closed, his hands still resting on the ground next to him, where they had fallen to, when his lieutenant had turned his body around to try and reach him in his final moments.

His chest, punctured by multiple small stab wounds, rose, and sank slowly with labored, shallow, breaths. His-

Wait what?

Lucifer did a double take, but even that changed nothing. Adam’s chest was indeed rising and sinking. Even as golden blood seeped out of him, drop by drop, the first man stubbornly refused to die. Lucifer blinked in confusion. He had been sure that Adam had died, when Niffty had stabbed him. And even if not, surely the time, between receiving the injury and now, must have been enough to have him bleed out.

And still, despite everything, despite all logic, Adam was still clinging to life. Still holding on to, well, something. Even though Lucifer couldn’t tell what exactly that something was.

“You’re still here.” It wasn’t a question. Hell, Lucifer hadn’t meant to say those words at all, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. That was why he was even more confused when Adam blinked his eyes open. They were unfocused, staring blindly towards the sky. Towards heaven that seemed unreachable, far away. And unreachable it was. Even if Adam wasn’t dead, he had lost his halo. Lucifer wasn’t sure if Adam could return to Heaven, even if he was able to fly. Adam blinked again, and his eyes didn’t turn to Lucifer, but he answered his words, still.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He grumbled wetly. Lucifer was sure he could hear the blood in his chest. He couldn’t help but agree. It was ironic. Adam, who had come here to rain death upon them, was now, as it seemed, himself unable to die. Why exactly Lucifer couldn’t tell. But he was quite sure, that a certain powerful being, that had created them all, had his fingers in the mix. And if that was the case, then Lucifer could not let Adam lie out here on the pavement. That was certain. Or, at least, it was, what Lucifer told himself. Dammit all, he hadn’t wanted Adam to die in the first place. Sure, he had lost his temper, when Adam had the audacity to attack his daughter, but that would have been any father’s reaction. Still, Charlie had given him hope that maybe, just maybe, Heaven could be reasoned with. Hope, that maybe, what had been lost, could be regained.

He had loved Adam once, half an eternity ago. And a part of him loved Adam still. Hell, they, Lilith, Adam, even Eve, had been created to be loved. And something like that could not vanish entirely. His love for the man had withered away, year after year, but it had never fully stopped. And seeing Adam, lying there, more man than monster, had reawoken something in Lucifer that he had believed to have died a long time ago.

Lucifer sighed softly, before deciding what to do next. With arms, stronger than humanly possible for a man of his stature – he wasn’t a human after all – Lucifer swiftly cradled Adam to his chest. At least as much, as his height would allow it. He could feel the Angel grow rigid in his touch. But he wouldn’t let that deter him. One arm supporting Adam’s back, the other lifting him from beneath his knees, Lucifer tried not to jostle the injured man too much. It didn’t work perfectly, and Adam emitted a pained gasp, followed by a few coughs that brought new speckles of golden blood to his lips.

“What?” he started asking, before being interrupted by another coughing fit.

Lucifer shook his head, silently commanding Adam to safe his energy.  “You’ll be fine,” he said, instead of answering Adam’s question. The man didn’t seem to believe him. He shook his head, as good as he could.

“Are you fucking serious.” He hissed. Lucifer didn’t say anything. He just opened a portal to one of his chambers in the palace and started walking.

“Fucking stop that shit!” Adam hissed. “Put me down. Just let me lie here.”

Lucifer shook his head. “No,” he answered stubbornly. As he stepped through the portal. “There’s another way.”

Adam emitted an ugly sound. Something that might have been a laugh had it not sounded, so much, like he was biting back a sob.

“You’re a fucking liar,” Adam accused. “You never cared before!”

Lucifer said nothing. He knew that disagreeing would not make Adam see reason. His silence was answered by more labored words from the injured man in his arms. “Why now?” he hissed. “Why do you pretend to care now? Still haven’t got everything you wanted, is that it?”

A fist came to connect with Lucifer’s shoulder, but the punch was weak. All energy having seeped from Adam’s body with his blood.

“This is your fault!” Adam accused, and Lucifer hummed in agreement. Maybe it was his fault after all. Maybe nothing of this would have happened if he had stayed one of God's obedient little playthings. Or maybe another angel would have simply taken his place. Another hit connected with his shoulder.

“I hate you!” Adam’s words were full of poison, despite his weakened state. Lucifer sighed, as he carried him towards the room, he saw fit to house the man for the near future.

“I know,” he said, a sad smile playing around his lips. “Trust me. I know.”

[wanderingaldecaldo]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by @theviridianbunny @gloryride @kdval @chevvy-yates @streetkid-named-desire, thanks chooms!

Modding

Like @streetkid-named-desire said on their WIP post, I do in fact have something in the works that is currently in testing! A friend mentioned they were sad there weren't more nice shoes for fem V that aren't heels, and given the spate of suit wear for fem V recently I decided to remedy that for Val's sake.

Coming soon for both fem and masc V, oxfords!

Featuring @gloryride's soon-to-be-released Johnny jacket. And yes, Mara, I will be putting it on Ros. 😝

VP

Instead of writing, I'll share part of a photo... story. What can I say, I love storytelling! 😅

There's a shard in SF1 that details the minutes of a recent campaign meeting, and it mentions a magazine interview, and I'm turning that into a photo shoot as well as means to tell Ros & Val's story. [more here] Here's the text exchange via @luvwich's awesome text generator!

I've been taking pics for the photo shoot off and on since I got her into Veegee's first suit (see above) and have shared a couple without context, but here are a couple more:

This got long so tags and the text message transcript after the cut.

Tagging with the usual zero pressure: @luvwich since you're here lol @disastroussketchbook @morganlefaye79 @senseandaccountability @heywoodvirgin @merge-conflict @brammariek @schoute @peaches-n-screem @dustymagpie

The transcript:

Mittens 09:31:25pm I need an opinion

V 09:32:19pm pretty sure you got better people in your contacts for that

Mittens 09:33:22pm But I know you'll tell me the truth

V 09:34:17pm got me there

Mittens 09:34:41pm It's about the magazine shoot

V 09:36:06pm oh no, no definitely not the one for that

Mittens 09:37:50pm <img>

Mittens 09:38:19pm It's too much, isn't it?

V 09:38:21pm whoa...

V 09:39:33pm no it's really hot

Mittens 09:40:55pm HA! You're biased

Mittens 09:41:50pm Not everyone in the country has seen these tits, and I'd like to keep it that way

V 09:43:45pm could be your new get out the vote campaign. hell, I'd vote for you

Mittens 09:45:59pm Put your money where your mouth is 😏

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey Nalyra,

Ooof, your posts have been making me nervous today! Please may I enquire - Do you think from where we are now, we’re likely to get to a place of the same/similar feelings - overall & on the major points from the book Interview with the Vampire by the end of season 2?

Louis’ perspective is so very specific in the book, and yet at the same time Louis himself is in a very different place now with the story alterations, so I feel all kinds of confused about emotional expectations!

Personally, I’m ok with any changes (admittedly barring the drop, which I’m not ok with. That’s just the way it is for me.) but I’m not ok with changes in motivation: how some changes mean we’re not in a position (yet) for the story to have the same overall feeling - from & towards each character; about some plot events & overall… but I always felt the main impact on any changes is their meaning to the feeling of the ending.

I totally believe the show *can* get there, from all the incredible art we’ve experienced this far, not least the most recent episode… but today’s… well, I guess they’re still total mysteries, yet still it’s made me feel suddenly uneasy & worried…

I suppose I’d also presumed that this era of the story would be done with this season, but I see now it may be repeated yet again in S3….?

I have odd feelings, as I feel like the ending at least of the book Interview with the vampire is similar in feeling to how Lestat describes that era, only without the context of his experiences…. Yet I’m not sure the final events in Paris on the tv show can be similar, given where we are?! I feel so confused!

I feel so confused that I know this ask is confusing too. I basically think I just need Armand to mutter “Rest” at me so my mind will stop whirring in overdrive! 😂😅💀

:))) (Rest^^)

... mhhhhh so I think that, given that the book IWTV will be published in-universe, that we will stay close to the emotional beats for the tale itself.

Meaning Madeleine, trial, Louis destroys the coven. And Dubai.

I do think Louis will end up in a similar place he was at the end of the book, yes.

I do think that they will revisit all this... but more as Lestat himself revisited it in his book, which is a few statements to how he experienced it. But not another season detailing it. That... will be left to the audience to decide.

I think the show will leave quite a few things only hinted at, and ambiguous. We are on a POV show after all, and they are not pulling their punches.

Sam and Jacob described the ending of s1 as "sad but satisfying"... and I guess.... that is what we'll get.

Which, actually, fits quite well for the novel, too, doesn't it.

[mysteryofloveforevermore]

Hi hi! Samtrick Anon again (I've gone ahead and changed my legal name to this). Love all your gifs, as always. Thank you❤️.

I was curious about your thoughts on Patrick's reaction to Charlotte LeBon's comments about him looking like he was going to throw up while shooting the kiss with Sam. I copied Patrick's quote:

“When I’m in character, I believe that’s what he would’ve done. Right then, and then again the next morning, it’s like, ‘Is he going to throw up?’ And he does,” he continued.

“I hope it wasn’t taken out of context that I would throw up because of Sam or whatever.”

I love that he felt the need to say this-- both because I think it's important to dispel homophobia and because it seems like he was concerned about Sam's reaction, which is sweet. He didn't need to say anything, but I'm glad he did.

BTW, I know Charlotte joined the project late and probably didn't know the cast or characters as well, but I think her take on the situation is pretty surface level. You see how nervous and flirty Patrick and Sam were in their on-set interview. I'm guessing there was a lot of anticipation and some anxiety about shooting this specific scene, especially given the underlying tension. That is probably what she was witnessing, not disgust. Her take also kind of ignores the fact that he's an actor who can have a separate experience from his character. Saxon experiencing disgust-- which is debatable-- doesn't necessarily mean Patrick was. I like her otherwise, but this annoyed me😅. Honestly, I think him having a bigger reaction is more of a sign of underlying tension and deeper, more complicated feelings. But who really knows?🙃

Hey my darling Samtrick anon❤️

I’ve missed you, always getting Samtrick messages from you, you inspire me to post more about the boys, something that I’d love to do, currently my lovely ship is Samtrick as you can see I’ve also changed my bio😅🤗💕

Speaking of Patrick’s reaction I think as you’ve said Charlotte just joined the cast and right away they started shooting episode 5, so she didn’t know much about their bond, and she thought his reaction in that scene was Patrick’s and not his character Saxon, thankfully Patrick clarified it, and just like I believe he did it for his boy, because he didn’t want Sam to feel sad about it, even though Sam knows that they can’t be honest about everything but still it mattered to Patrick to mention it❤️🥹 apparently in an interview that she’s done with Attitude Magazine (before doing the interview the cast for Hollywood Reporter) she said during filming that scene Sam had to tell Patrick “it's fine, it's just a kiss, calm down!'"

But in the Hollywood Reporter’s interview she didn’t say that, I think that’s what she thought they were saying to each other, and I think she was just being playful and did not realize that what she said might make Patrick seem homophobic, but we all know that’s not what happened, because Patrick loves his boy💕 Moreover, he’s been the biggest shipper of SaxLoch and I also think he was excited to shoot the kissing scene with Sam, Sam said in an interview that Patrick told him about the jerking off scene before they got their scripts😏

Also speaking of the kissing scene, even though it sounds crazy for me to say, they actually seemed very comfortable kissing each other😍

I love that 2 seconds shot of them kissing in Saxon’s memories in episode 6, there’s no way Mike asked Sam to smile when Patrick was caressing his neck, btw I think Sam loves the whole neck grabbing or his neck being touched while kissing and I think Patrick knew that too😏🤭💕

Also just like I believe everyone talking about their reaction and sexuality means after all we might not be so delulu😅 even though I know I’m being very delusional to say this considering not having that many signs or anything, tbh I asked them to post a photo of a bird as sign for us but let’s be honest the chances of them seeing our post is close to zero😅🙈 but at least we’ve tried❤️

Again thank you for your lovely message my dear Samtrick anon 💕

[artist-issues]

Something I've been wondering for a while is, what is your take on retcons? Or serialized stories where the authors change their minds partway through, causing words that meant one thing when it was published to now mean another?

For instance, a LOT of A New Hope is very different now after Empire, the Prequels, and even Rogue One.

Should we differentiate between how the story would have originally been interpreted vs the new context, or just say the story's meaning in light of what it is now?

...I think it depends on how much sense it makes toward the serialized story's main point.

Because with a serialized story, the whole idea is that part 1 is just part 1--the creator's not done saying what they had to say, so there's technically still time for changes--but it has to be within reason. And that reason is determined by how much has already been said and what the main point of the story as a whole is.

For example:

George Lucas already said "Luke Skywalker's father was killed by evil, and his character flaw is looking out at what could be and trying to rush to control the outcome; he needs to learn faith." In A New Hope.

But he wasn't technically finished telling the story because Luke comes back in An Empire Strikes Back. So George Lucas' retcon, that Luke's father is actually still alive, is fine--because it works within the boundaries and natural progression of what's already been said. "Luke's father's killed by evil and he needs to learn faith = Luke's father's old SELF was killed by evil, and getting blindsided by the fact that he's still alive will help Luke learn faith." Natural progression.

What I mean by "retcon" is "storyteller started to say something, then doubled back and decided to say it a different way."

They're not changing what the story is meant to communicate; they're just shifting some words around to say it more clearly. I think of good remakes the same way.

But!

If a storyteller starts to say something, then doubles back and changes the words they're using to communicate (changing who the character is, how they intentionally responded to a given situation, etc.) so that the thing the story was meant to communicate in the first place is DIFFERENT, and the changes CONTRADICT what's already been said because of that--

--then it's bad.

So.

Luke learning in ESB that his father wasn't killed by evil like ANH said, but is evil, which makes his need for faith-over-fear greater? Good retcon.

Rey learning that her parents weren't "nobodies" like TLJ said, but actually they were related to somebody important like TROS said, which changes her previously-established need to stop thinking so much about herself and just do what she can humbly? BAD retcon.

Ruined her character arc. Weakened the main point of the story. It was a retcon that basically did the storyteller's equivalent to this communication blunder:

Beginning of Sentence: "The happy dog jumped--"

End of Sentence: "The happy dog jumped flat on his back because he was sad."

That's as clear as I can make it 😅 Does that answer your question?

[mischas]

Another long ask 😅 Do you have any thoughts on how Marissa and Alex's relationship (+Ryan's involvement) should've been like? Like obviously Ryan was gonna be in the picture and the one she had a superior connection with overall but what if MA were given time and space to breathe and how it would've looked like with RM's dynamic.

I do feel like the whole discussion around Marissa's sexuality had to be different. It was mostly just fetishizing (Seth) and invalidating (the whole phase talk with Julie- AND Kirsten who's supposed to be the supportive open-minded mom). Yeah it's a product of the time but it's also a product of homophobia (or specifically lesbophobia, with the male gaze thing).

I don't remember her ever finding any of the "gay" jokes funny (like Seth's jokes about Luke for shaving his chest) but she also knew Luke used gay and queer as insults at both Ryan and Seth but didn’t exactly say anything even though she was uncomfortable. I also find it interesting when in Season 3 Volchok makes a comment about something (prom? I can't remember rn) being gay in a derogatory manner and Marissa doesn’t look too comfortable but she also doesn’t say anything about it specifically. I guess what I'm trying to say is Marissa has had to see a lot of casual (and not eo casual) homophobia growing up AND after her realization/coming out but didn’t stand up to it for understandable reasons and that would've been an interesting thing to explore.

I'm in the middle of my s2 rewatch (specifically the MA storyline) so it's interesting you bring it up. I think, first off, that it was never in the cards for Marissa's sexuality to veer off course but I'm really glad it did. The MA arc is mostly done so well so credit where credit's due, but this isn't a show that was mapped out from the beginning. So it can't be tracked in s1 with her facial cues or anything. I do think there's an annoyance but passivity with Luke's bullshit comments that come from being a teen in the 2000s and also living in this conservative, isolated community (that is extremely pulled back in s2 so we don't get that kind of social commentary again, unfortunately). She calls Luke out but only to a certain extent. I think shit like that was just so commonplace in 2003 and especially in an insulated community such as that. 112 really touches on how big of an ~event~ it is that Luke's dad is gay.

Seth's homophobia and biphobia in 209 really tick me off, as does Kirsten's attitude in 214. Kirsten for the reasons you mention and Seth in particular because his schtick is supposed to be seen as funny and it just comes off horrendously offensive now. (As do AB's comments in the press at the time. Basically it seems all the men behind the scenes were getting their rocks off watching the 214 MA kiss.)

As for KV I think his casual homophobic comment and her specific reaction is more her feeling disillusioned with this guy she's choosing to spend time with than a deliberate nod to her identity. But of course it makes no sense that she goes back to him at the end of 322 after realizing she wants more for herself. That whole arc is designed to isolate and punish Marissa/Mischa from everyone else, though, so should be taken with a grain of salt.

I think, considering all the casual homophobia Marissa did in fact hear and see growing up, all that we see when she's 16 at least, it doesn't seem like that's impacted her all that much when it comes to exploring her feelings for Alex. But s2 gives her character so little to do beyond being angry/sad/aggrieved with Julie that it's hard to believe the writers were taking much of her history into context. Marissa's scene with Summer in 211 where she does some thinking about what it means to "graze noses" with someone you never would've guessed you'd want to graze noses with is done well, though.

If MA had been given a longer arc I would've liked to see Marissa move back home while staying in the relationship with Alex and seeing how that works afterward. Pushing that kind of dynamic on them so soon was their kiss of death, but so was making Ryan single again. It would've been cute to see Ryan do the pining a bit longer considering she pined for him until meeting Alex. I think the general framework of 'Marissa feels the emotional, historical pull to Ryan' thing is accurate to her character but it should've been stretched out to at least four or five episodes. Not two!

[thesilverlady]

What makes a story/a character a greek tragedy? What differences greek tragedy have with Shakespearean tragedy and any "tragic" story? Sorry if i asked too much 😅 but i see the word greek tragedy thrown randomly alot especially when it comes to Hotd and i don't get it

hey anon, great question but I'm gonna warn you the answer will be a bit long (it was impossible to keep it short 😓 I tried)

First of all I think fandoms like hotd just throw around the words "Greek tragedy" because they consider what their fav character has gone through a tragedy and to emphasize the big sad they gonna call it "Greek tragedy" to make it look all deep given the reputation and fame Greek tragedies have in literature alas they're all wrong so let's start.

What is a Greek tragedy?

To understand we need to start from what those plays were in the first place. Greek tragedies worked according to strict artistic and ethical guidelines, although these changed slightly depending on the dominant playwright of the time.

In general, Greek tragedies feature a character of ordinary moral virtue - so this means that the character, while isn't villainous, exhibits a realistic, but fatal flaw, known as hamartia.

Most of the time, the focus of a tragedy is on the protagonist’s psychological and ethical attributes, rather than their physical or sociological ones. As the action progresses, the character’s own failings drives them toward their downfall.

And although the character’s choices are vital, the tragic plot is considered more dominant than the character. This reflects the imperative of fate. The plot, like destiny, moves towards its inevitable tragic climax despite the character’s best efforts to avoid it. This dire outcome was intended to incite pity and fear in the audience - not for the sake of suffering alone, but for the knowledge that suffering brought.

Most Greek tragedies included a chorus; a group of masked performers who commented on the action and helped the audience process its significance. Such understanding was part of the Greek concept of catharsis, which held that experiencing intense emotions in a safe setting generated a healthy sort of emotional cleaning that renewed the spirit.

What makes a story/a character a greek tragedy?

While the basic elements of a Greek tragedy, like the focus on a hero's downfall and the presence of hubris/ a tragic flaw, are commonly found in literary works today, not every story can be considered a Greek tragedy.

The Greek tragedy existed within a specific cultural context and was influenced by the religious and philosophical traditions of the ancient Greeks.

As I mentioned above Greek tragedies often featured a hero or central character who was doomed to suffer a tragic downfall due to a combination of personal flaws, such as hubris or lack of humility, and outside forces, such as the interference of the gods.

These characters were often portrayed as larger than life, with a level of nobility and grandeur that set them apart from the average person.

While some modern stories may feature similar elements to Greek tragedies (like the focus on a central character's fall from grace or a tragic downfall due to personal flaws) they aren't necessarily categorized as Greek tragedies, because of the specific cultural and historical context in which the Greek tragedy emerged is an integral part of what made it unique and distinct from other forms of storytelling.

What differences greek tragedy have with Shakespearean tragedy and any "tragic" story?

For Shakespearean tragedies, i can only tell you my observation as a reader because I haven't actually studied them as a seperate subject.

From my perspective the difference between Shakespearean tragedies to Greek ones is that they often feature stronger themes of romance, political intrigue, and social commentary. Therefore they tend to be more character-driven than plot-driven, with the main character facing a tragic end due to their own choices that they make rather than due to the will of the gods or the workings of fate.

As to the differences between those two and any tragic story is: context

As I mentioned earlier the cultural and historical context is an integral part of what makes Greek tragedy unique.

So the difference between that and any "tragic" story are the cultural elements that are missing.

In general, "any" tragic story is one that features a character attempting to overcome a personal flaw or face a challenge, but ultimately succumbs to their own flaws or to forces beyond their control.

A great example of a fictional character that possesses all the requirement to be categorized as a tragic one is Anakin Skywalker from the Star Wars series. His character's downfall does mimic a bit of a Greek tragedy, but of course we can't call his story an actual Greek tragedy because by the end he gets a redemption and there are no Greek elements in his story in the first place. Still parallels can be made to certain parts but he's still just a tragic character.

I think overall people on the internet have this idea that calling a character's story a "tragedy" is less significant than calling it a "Greek tragedy," which is completely false, because while Greek tragedies are one of the most well-known examples of tragedy in the world of literature, there are many other forms of tragedy that have emerged from various cultures throughout history.

Each type of tragedy has its own distinct qualities and themes, and the variety of tragic stories that exist today prove the appeal and power tragedies have as a literary form.

And to bring it back to hotd fandom, there are very few characters whose journey we see and can call their story a tragedy in the book. A thrown away line here and there to a background character does not make their "story" a tragedy because you need to see the actual journey of the character to know if their story can be categorized as that.

[acacia-may]

Do you have any songs for Hero from Omori for the game? Thanks

Oh my goodness I have so many songs for Hero from OMORI that it'll honestly be hard to narrow it down 😅, but I'll share a couple of my favorites plus some related Hero post-"Truth" headcanons! Thanks for playing my song + headcanon game and for the chance for some Hero appreciation (he really deserves it 💙).

I've put your songs and headcanons below the cut because of MAJOR OMORI spoilers (and warnings for the heavy themes & subject matter (i.e. grief, death, mental health issues) that go along with that).

There really are so many songs out there that remind me of Hero (who is probably tied for the title of my favorite OMORI character), and honestly, I didn't know how angsty you wanted to go with this ask so I've chosen two songs: a sad one and a less sad one.

Sad Song Choice: "Older Than I Am" by Lennon Stella

I feel like this just might be the ultimate Hero song. I mean with opening lines like "My heart's seen things I wish it didn't/Somewhere I lost some of my innocence, and I miss it" how could it not be? There's something so hauntingly tragic about this song, and I think it just fits Hero so well given how he has been through so much in his life and how he has had to grow up far too quickly. He prides himself on doing everything right, on taking care of everyone else around him and never wanting to be a burden on anyone ("I do all my own healing/Manage all of my feelings/I don't ask for help, no/'Cause I don't need it"), but sometimes it does get to be a lot for him: leaves him faking happiness and contentment while really he is breaking inside and feeling lonely and listless as he tries to keep up this charade of being "fine" ("Why am I always the one making decisions?/How do I handle the pressure?/I do my best to fake it, but honestly I hate it").

There are probably times when he wishes he "could do something stupid" and "be kinda reckless." There is probably a part of him that wishes he could "just say to hell with all [his] plans"--could "say I don't give a damn," but the problem is he does give a damn--he cares too much. He's too responsible, too dutiful, too conflict-avoidant, and too worried about hurting and burdening everyone else. Ultimately, he would never do those any of those things because just like the singer in the song, he would stop himself and be forced to admit that no matter how much he wishes he could just throw in the towel, set aside this "perfect" facade for just a minute, he won't--he can't because he's Hero and there is always that voice in the back of his head reminding him "But I'm older than I am" and stopping him.

Lennon Stella - Older Than I Am (Lyrics) - YouTube

Less Sad Song Choice: "Two" by Sleeping At Last (A/N: it’s not really that sad of a song but the Hero context makes everything sadder)

I'm not even sure where to start with this song since there are so many lines that make me think of Hero starting not least of all with the very first: "sweetheart, you look a little tired--when did you last eat?" Beyond just his penchant for cooking for his loved ones, Hero really wants nothing more than to take care of people. He has such a genuine generosity and selflessness that he truly "will love you without a single string attached" and would not hesitate to put someone else and their needs in front of his own--bending over backwards to help them or make them happy, even if it is at his own expense or to his own detriment ("you know I’ll take my heart clean apart, if it helps yours beat" and "you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest.").

While he would be the first to offer help, support, even the shirt off his back to someone who needed it, he struggles with asking for help himself, can't stand being the center of attention, and does not like talking about himself or his own problems because he deeply fears being a burden to others ("no, I don’t want to talk about myself—tell me where it hurts."). After he begins to heal from that period of deep depression he experienced immediately following the loss of Mari, Hero consistently buries his own pain, grief, and sadness--deeply afraid of hurting or burdening his family, friends, or any of his loved ones like that again (even though, of course, the ones who love him want to be there to support him, no matter what he's going through).

He knows he's wounded and hurting, but he pushes it aside in favor of helping others. When Sunny finds him at Mari's piano in the middle of the night, for instance, Hero is "fine"—immediately jumping into trying to support and comfort Sunny, but if you go back into the room immediately afterwards, Hero is crying by himself, just unwilling and unable to express his own pain and sadness to someone else. It's absolutely that "I just want to build you up, build you up ’til you’re good as new, and maybe one day I will get around to fixing myself too" sentiment.

Finally, the line "I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well. I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself" in the bridge just gives me chills when I think about in the context of Hero. He is such a big-hearted, empathetic, and sincerely loving person, but he deeply struggles to accept the love and support from others that he gives away so generously.

Sleeping At Last - "Two" (Official Lyric Video) - YouTube

Here Are Some Hero Post-"The Truth" Headcanons Inspired by These Songs:

When Hero learns "The Truth," he quietly excuses himself from the room to deal with and process his emotions alone. He feels overwhelmed, hurt, upset, angry, heartbroken and so many other stormy, complicated emotions, and despite (perhaps) wishing he could unleash that whole internal turmoil, he stops himself--recalling with a painful regret that one (1) time he lashed out at Kel after Mari's death and knowing that he is not that 15 (or 16) year old boy anymore. He is an adult (albeit a 19-year-old adult but still an adult), and he will act like one, regardless of how he feels on the inside because he really is older than he is.

After crying bitterly alone and trying his best to make sense of the Truth and of everything he is feeling, Hero experiences a moment in which it really just "clicks" in his head that even if he has complex feelings about Sunny and Basil right now, Sunny and Basil are suffering in a similar way to how Hero himself suffered for years. Hero has blamed himself for what happened to Mari all this time--mentally beating himself up for not even knowing she was depressed and driving himself in painful circles wondering if he had just reached out to her, had made sure she understood she could aways open up to him, had been more of a support to her, had better expressed how much he cared about her, had held onto her tighter, had loved her better--had loved her more would things have been different? He has carried that weight around for 4 years--blaming himself for her death, and now he sees Sunny and Basil doing the same thing--granted under wildly different (more culpable despite it being an accident) circumstances but the feelings & pain of that overwhelming guilt are very similar, and Hero knows how painful and what a heavy burden that is.

In the end, it's almost like the complicated feelings he might have about Sunny and Basil due to the truth get overshadowed by Hero’s empathy and the fact that he cares for them deeply as if they were his own little brothers, and that is what finally gives him some clarity.

He returns to the room and actually apologizes himself both for suddenly disappearing and for the fact that this has all happened the way it did. He starts to tear up again as he hugs Sunny then Basil, reassuring them that Mari would want them to forgive themselves.

This is not to say that Hero doesn't still have some serious inner turmoil and angst surrounding "The Truth" and all the pain it and its cover up has caused. He does wrestle with complicated feelings towards both Basil and Sunny for some time afterwards (he is only human after all); however, this remains internal turmoil, as Hero absolutely sees it as something he needs to work through on his own with time (and hopefully, eventually, some desperately needed therapy). Additionally, having matured and learned from his one (1) fight with Kel after Mari's death, he does not take this out on Sunny or Basil--not wanting to have to repeat what is one of the greatest regrets of his life (lashing out at his brother).

Even if it takes him a little time, Hero ultimately is one of the most empathetic to Sunny and Basil's feelings surrounding Mari’s death—particularly their guilt, and it is in recognizing a lot of himself and his own grief, pain and guilt in Sunny & Basil that he finally reaches a place of healing and forgiveness with them.

Additionally, in reconciling himself to the situation and making peace with that happened, Hero ultimately blames Mari’s “bad knee”/knee injury for her death more than Sunny, choosing to believe that Sunny didn’t push her that hard so it was really the fact that her bad knee gave out that made her fall down the stairs, whereas an uninjured person wouldn’t have fallen. This inspires him to take a Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation (PM&R) residency when he graduates from medical school, and he becomes a pediatric physiatrist: treating injured children and coordinating rehabilitative medicine after their injuries. He sees it as his way to give back (in a healthy way, of course) and finds a sense of purpose in trying to prevent another tragedy like that from happening by helping other injured children in their recovery.

[hero-deserves-to-be-happy]

hey! thanks for making this blog, it's so cool!!

just out of interest, what are your thoughts on whump? i know you make some awesome angst hcs for hero, so i started wondering :)

Aww thank you so much, Anon! It really means a lot to us to hear that you like our blog! 😊 We really appreciate all of your kind words and your ask. 💙

We will admit that despite running a blog called "Hero Deserves To Be Happy," we do revel in some Hero angst every now and again and will occasionally (emotionally) torment him in our headcanons and writings (A/N: Thank you for your compliments on our Hero angst hcs, by the way. You're very kind), but as a general rule, we both tend to prefer hurt/comfort rather than pure angst, especially of the whump variety. We have read and enjoyed a few whump fics here and there and have nothing against whump as long as it's properly tagged with warnings when appropriate. However, it's not something either of us have ever really sought out specifically and/or created ourselves.

All of that said, we can definitely see how Hero's character might lend himself to whump. Poor Hero has been through a lot. In many ways, Hero angst is absolutely warranted, and it's almost like the canon itself is "Hero whump" at times. We feel strongly that it would be a disservice to him as a character to ignore or shy away from his internal turmoil and the grief and suffering he has experienced in his life, but ultimately, it is difficult for us, personally, to leave him in that sad and despairing place so we try to let him have a least a little peace, comfort, and/or hopefulness in the end of what we create. Obviously, an angst specific headcanon doesn't allow for that and that's okay. To be honest, we have many Hero angst headcanons between the two of us, but it would be difficult for us to write something lengthy and involved (like a whole story, for instance) that didn't at least end on a more hopeful note, if it wasn't full hurt/comfort to begin with. We like to think that no matter how angsty we might get when it comes to Hero, it's always accompanied by at least the hope (whether spoken or unspoken) that there is something good out there for him on the other side of all that pain and suffering, which is one of the main reasons we tend to lean more hurt/comfort with our more angsty content whenever we can.

In terms of what whether we would be willing to write whump or not, it really depends on the type of whump, as it is our understanding that it is a very broad genre. Most emotional whump would probably be fine, especially given the context of Hero's life and everything he has been through in the canon (plus, it's probably a bit too obvious from our "When Sun Shines Again" series that we have absolutely no problem sending Hero through the emotional wringer 😅). Physical injuries or illnesses would depend on the circumstances but would most likely be okay as long as they wouldn't need to be described in gory detail. However, we wouldn't really be comfortable writing torture of any kind or anything that would require ultra-specific and/or gory details. As with our other requests, we would have to respectfully ask for the right to politely decline any whump request that made one or both of us uncomfortable, but if there's something specific you want to ask for angsty headcanon about, please feel free to send it in and we would be happy to write it for you.

We hope this answered your question. If you ever have any other questions for us, please feel free to ask. We love getting to talk to people, and our ask box is always open so please drop by any time. Thank you so much and please take care of yourself--it's what Hero would want! 💙

[wyllzel]

author's note / director's commentary / tooting the old horn 📯

It's been a couple days since I finished posting this fic :') So I just wanted to talk about the structure of it since I was working with one of my favorite concepts: the unreliability of memory recollection!! 💾💽

TL;DR: I really love Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro lol

The basic concept behind At the Hands of a Mage is an implicit comparison between the Hawke mages (primarily Malcolm) and Anders, who is Hawke's love interest this fic.

Instead of having Hawke notice specific things about Anders and think, "Hey, wait a minute, my dad did that!" I wanted her realizations to be more subconscious. (Until the end, at least...)

I always imagine Blue Hawke as a deeply sad sort of person, whose terrible circumstances and continual losses shape them into a mellow and passive person. (This also ties into this Hawke's relationship with Anders.) Hence, this Hawke needed to lack both active self-reflection and a willingness to ask for help—which affects how she thinks of Anders and her family.

To get that "subconscious" feeling, I ended up dividing the fic into two timelines:

Hawke's childhood memories of her father, primarily centered around his death and the aftermath.

Hawke's present state, which centers around a "ghostly" investigation of Amell Estate (Hawke Estate) as well as her precariously (im)balanced relationship with Anders.

While the two timelines are technically completely separate, I wanted it to feel like they were woven together. The idea was that the "past memories" are lingering in Hawke's mind, and she's actually passively stepping through them as the story progresses, but I'm not sure if that came across very well 😅

At the very least—the two timelines needed to feel structurally cohesive despite a lack of direct connection!

To try to accomplish this, I repeated words across sections, like in the following excerpt:

Some of them were spread further apart than this example, but I promise they're in there! 🙂‍↕️ It's like "I Spy," haha.

I also repeated/echoed a few phrases—like both Leandra and Anders say, "There's no need to apologize"/"There's nothing to apologize for" at some point.

And to REALLY drive the repetition home, the work title and chapter titles are all phrases taken from the fic :-) !

This idea of memories being interwoven with the present, and vice versa, was something that Kazuo Ishiguro explored in his novel Never Let Me Go. I really admired that aspect of the novel and wrote my uni senior capstone on it haha! (It left a huge impression evidently :')) In that context, I was writing about looping structures, digitized memory as data, and the protagonists of the novel as "technology"/objects... and, given that Dragon Age 2 is a computer game, this is actually pretty relevant now that I think of it 🫠

In any case! I hope the repetition also added feelings of being "stifled" or something similar. This Hawke's mind is a very sad place, and she's purposefully repressing and fudging details of her own memories... If you notice any inconsistencies, there's a 90% chance that that was purposeful :)

I hope this fic is an interesting read, even if it's not the most fun! The Hawke family is endlessly fascinating to me. It's so interesting that you can interpret their relationships in so many different ways!

AT THE HANDS OF A MAGE by robynhode ↳ M • F!Hawke/Anders • Grief, The Hawke Family, Dual Timeline • Complete (12k)

Hawke reckons with two ghosts: her troubled memories of her father, and the old woman who won’t let her fall asleep.

Electricity crackles from his fingers down his staff as Anders declares, resolute, “I know what you are, demon—your despair has no power here!” Hawke wants to agree. But she knows, now, what pulled it to Amell Estate. Her nightmares, her memories of Carver, the twilight hours in which she cries herself to sleep—they have consequences.

▷ Read Ch. 2 of 2: Following Him Blindly (6k words) on AO3.

[northlight14]

Everything people need to know about my feelings towards Von Karma can be perfectly summed up by this one expression from Edgeworth in the anime…

[tired-teacher-blog]

Hi there teach, i hope you are fine and have a lovely day so far. 💜 I got here 'cause of your wonderful bakugo and dabi content. I have just finished reading your fic "my savior/my demise". It got me in an emotional rollercoaster with all the fluff, smut and the super sad ending 😢

I don't know if you have the time or the mood for a request. If not it's totally okay, then just ignore this. But IF you do: how would the bnha boys (especially bakugo and kirishima but all others are welcome as well) react if I accidentally moaned their pro hero name instead of their real name while fucking or making out because they are so hot in their full costume and it was always a fantasy of mine to fuck them while they are wearing it. I don't know if this makes any sense to you... 😅

Hi sweetie your ask had me all warm and tingly 🥰 I'm really honored you enjoyed my content especially My Dabi's fic because it's too special for me. I'm also very sorry to keep you waiting for so long I'm really hopeless 🥲 but I loved working on your request so I hope you enjoy my input!

Title : Call me by my hero name

Characters : Bakugo/ Kirishima/ Midoriya/ Kaminari/ Amajiki/ Fem reader

Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Fluff

Notes : I really wanted to include Shouto, but his hero name is the same as his given name so it wouldn't work in this context.

Please do not read if you're a minor

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Bakugo :

You tilted your head back, knuckles blanching as you fisted the sheets beneath your writhing body.

He had you at his mercy, legs flung over his shoulders and hips pushed in place by his big dominating hands.

He smirked as your glistening pussy winked at him and he couldn't help but lean in to devour you some more.

What got you in that position was your own wild fantasies. He was disheveled, sweaty and still in his hero costume when he stepped into the appartement, and it was as if you were possessed as you jumped in his arms giving him no chance to react to your sudden attack.

_ "Katsuki, you look so good like that." you moaned softly against his neck as you nibbled teasingly on his warm skin.

That was all it took for him to wordlessly shake off his gauntlets and carry you to bed where he stripped you naked and started feasting on your sopping cunt.

_ "Fuck.. you taste so good baby." he slurred against your clit before licking a slow stripe along the rosy nub.

Your hands moved to fist on his unruly locks as your back arched off the bed.

_ "Dynamight.. yes, yes keep going please!"

What did you just call him? Did he hear you right?

He freed himself from your clutches and lifted his head up, an amused expression plastered on his face, "what did you say?" he licked his glistening lips as he awaited your answer.

_ "D.. Dynamight.." you mumbled averting your gaze.

He moved up until he was mere centimeters away from your face, and you gasped realizing that his fingers would be replacing his mouth.

_ "Say it again." he demanded before slowly pushing two fingers inside your gaping cunt, "I wanna see your face when you say it." his lust filled eyes bored into you, and that's when you realized that a long, long night was awaiting. Not that you minded one bit.

_ "Dynamight.. please.."

Kirishima :

_ "Right, I got it.. uh huh.. don't worry about it."

Eijiro was on the phone one day when you decided to surprise him and drop by his agency during lunch time.

"Hi babe, what a nice surprise. I'll be with you in a minute." was what he whispered as soon as you walked into his office, food packages in hand.

You nodded with a smile and placed the boxes on the table before taking a seat.

He was in his full costume minus the headpiece, and you marveled at the way his godly muscles flexed with each move he made.

That damn costume.. it left no room for imagination, and you couldn't begin to count the times you pictured him pounding your pussy while wearing it.

You shook your head and thanked the heavens he was unaware of your sinful fantasies.

_ "I'm sorry it took so long sunshine, it's about our recent mission, I was.." your lips were on his in an instant, catching him off guard and leaving him wide eyed as your sneaky fingers roamed his exposed pecs.

Fortunately, he got his composure quick enough to grab your buttocks and lift you up with ease.

You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist and moved your hands up to his scarlet hair, pulling gently when your back hit the wall.

_ "So, food is not the only surprise you have prepared for me huh?" he pecked your nose once before trailing soft kisses along your neck.

_ "Yes, yes Mr Red Riot.. you have me all to yourself." you moaned tilting your head back and licking your lips. You were too aroused to think straight, but he'd caught every word you whimpered for him, boosting his confidence and turning him on even more.

_ "Food should wait babe, I don't think I have any more patience." his breath tickled your skin and the roll of his hips against yours proved his seriousness as you were able to feel his hardening cock grazing your inner thigh.

_ "You should visit me more often gorgeous."

Izuku :

_ "Izuku look! You're on TV!" you jumped up and down excitedly watching the footage of him fighting a villain on the street.

It wasn't the first time he was caught on camera, he is one of the top heroes in the world after all, but your excitement is the same each and every time and he finds it endearing.

_ "Oh is this about last night's attack?" he came out of the bathroom toweling his hair, and walked right up to you kissing your cheek and pulling you to the couch with him.

_ "Yeah it is! You're so cool!" you were smitten, and never been able to hide it. Watching him in action has always weakened your resolve.. and he knew it.

He gazed at you with amusement as you cheered for him to kick the villain's ass.

And only when he chuckled did you finally tear your attention away from TV.

_ "What, what is it?" your expressions still held the same spark that adorned your features the whole evening.

_ "Nothing, you're just so cute." he pinched your cheek lovingly and turned his head to the news report ahead.

And without warning, you moved to mount him..

_ " Honey, what.. what are you.." he was tense and not at all how composed he looked on TV.

_ "I love you Izuku," you pecked his quivering lips softly, "or should I call you Deku." you giggled right after mouthing his hero name.

In all sincerity, you wanted to fluster him further but his reaction left you astonished.

His panicked appearance instantly switched into an aroused one.

_ "Yeah, call me Deku," and it sounded more like an order than a request.

When did he carry you to the bedroom? When did you lose your shirt? And when did he drop his towel and settle between your legs? Your brain was all fogged up to comprehend.

_ "Deku.." you reached out to him, silently seeking more contact.

_ "You better call me that when I make you cum later, am I clear?" he commanded again, removing your panties and you nodded eagerly pulling him flush against you.

Kaminari :

His lips and fingers roamed your trembling body like a hungry dog searching for food.

It was too late for you to protest, you were the one who got yourself in trouble after all.

All you wanted was to get him a little bit riled up, and flirting with Sero right in front of him sure did the trick.

It was a joke that you and Sero agreed upon, but never in a million years had you expected it to turn out the way it did.

However, seeing how forceful and impatient he was being, spurred you on immeasurably.

The only time you get to witness that side of him is when he's fighting villains, and the realization reminded you of an old fantasy that you've never shared with him.. until now.

_ "You know? Seeing you in your hero costume everyday, bravely fighting for justice.. I don't know how to explain it but, it's perfect." you struggled to keep your cool under his enticing touches, but your words intrigued him and he wanted to hear more.

His tongue swirled around your hardening nipples, and his fingers moved between your legs fondling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You squirmed trying to get him to touch where you most wanted him to, but he wasn't done teasing you for what you pulled earlier, so you'd have to wait longer.

_ "What do you mean by that?" he mumbled around your perky tit but you remained silent, biting the back of your hand to prevent yourself from crying out his name. That didn't seem to please him at all.

You squealed, arching your back as his teeth sunk into the soft fat of your mound, "Chargebolt! Be gentle please!" it was never your intention to whimper his hero name, but you did, and it was too late to take it back.

_ "What did you just call me?!" his face brightened as he sprang up to look you straight in the eyes, "please call me that again honey!" he was like a giant puppy and the sudden change in his behavior brought the biggest smile to your face.

_ "My Chargebolt." you whispered cradling his cheeks, and that was the moment his fingers had finally found their way to your longing cunt.

Amajiki :

His ragged breathing and sheepish moans filled the room, and it was music to your ears.

_ "Sweetheart, you don't have to.. you really don't." he did try to stop you, but how could you miss the chance to kneel between his legs and take him into your mouth? Or to see his aroused expressions and feel his fingers dancing through your hair as he releases deep down your throat?

He looked so cute trying to remain calm, but it wasn't working.

You bobbed your head a little faster and twirled your tongue around his raging tip.

_ "Y/n! Baby not too fast!" his whines were getting louder and you were tempted to torment him further. So you cupped his heavy balls, fondling them slowly as your mouth carried on with its task.

_ "No, no.. this is so embarrassing! Please y/n!"

..but did you listen?

His reactions turned you on, but you wanted to feel something more. So you moved your free hand down to push your soaking panties to the side, and slipped two fingers inside yourself while your thumb fondled the swelled up needy clit.. just the way he always does right before pushing his hard cock into your core.

Seeing it all from his angle drove him closer to his blissful ending. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.. you were simply divine.

_ "Tamaki.. I can feel you twitching already.. am I doing a good job?" you slurred around his shaft as you gazed up in anticipation.

_ "Yeah.. ngh.. you're doing really good sweetheart.. I'm so close." his cute little groans made you quicken your pace around his cock and inside your pussy, and seeing the state he was in awakened a wild idea that you had pushed to the back of your mind.

_ "I'm so happy you're enjoying it.. Suneater" you've always wished to suck him off while in his hero costume, you wanted to know if that would bring a ferocious side out of him.

_ "Baby stop stop! Please I'm gonna cum!" he tried pushing you away but you refused to budge, and took everything he spurted like a champ.

He instantly dropped to his knees, wiping your mouth and apologizing in the process, but you loved every bit of it.

_ "So you like to be called by your hero name huh?" your teasing carried on.

_ "What.. yeah you're wrong, anyway it's my turn to take care of you now." his fingers moved to replace your own as he gently invaded your cavern.

_ "Yes! Yes! Suneater.. just like that!" you had just unlocked a secret door, and you couldn't wait to explore the unfamiliar area behind it.

@flying-lamb

[nalyra-dreaming]

Alright one more, and I’m done for the day 😅 and shout out to @reloha for reminding me of them in her post about primitive vampires. Not sure if this is what she was referring to, I’m sorry if it isn’t 😆 But do you remember the mindless vampires Louis and Claudia encounter in Eastern Europe in the book IWTV? When you read them, did you yell out ZOMBIES VAMPIRES as I did?? The combination was so perfect; I hate how briefly AR talked about them. I think she probably wrote them in only to let Louis sees that this could be him if he keeps depriving himself of blood, and makes Louis thinks of Lestat, but! I wanted more details when I read it. I don’t remember much anymore. Do you remember anything else about them? I’m hesitant to go back and reread it because IWTV is such a sad book. I just can’t…

Hey dear!

I went and reread that part of this, and it is indeed very interesting to see the difference in how Louis and Claudia are treated by the villagers, as intelligent beings, and they even try to protect them, while being in terror of those... beings.

And Louis very jaded realization when he is fighting that ... revenant:

I was battling a mindless, animated corpse. But no more.

I think you may be right, that she put them in to show Louis and Claudia the other side of the coin, but she also put them in imho to connect to the myths and stories of the old world there, and Dracula. Louis and Claudia echo some of Jonathan Harker's journey there, complete with getting a crucifix thrust upon them. I remember thinking that very clever, because it connects them while also make it immediately clear that her vampires, or, at least the vampires that do not fall to superstition, are not mindless beasts. They're monsters, yes, but not beasts, which I always thought was an interesting distinction.

Interestingly enough Lestat talks about them in TVL, too, while traveling with Gabrielle:

Infinitely more interesting were the occasional rogues we glimpsed in the middle of society, lone and secretive vampires pretending to be mortal just as skillfully as we could pretend. But we never got close to these creatures. They ran from us as they must have from the old covens. And seeing nothing more than fear in their eyes, I wasn't tempted to give chase. Yet it was strangely reassuring to know that I hadn't been the first aristocratic fiend to move through the ballrooms of the world in search of my victims-the deadly gentleman who would soon surface in stories and poetry and penny dreadful novels as the very epitome of our tribe. There were others appearing all the time. But we were to encounter stranger creatures of darkness as we moved on. In Greece we found demons who did not know how they had been made, and sometimes even mad creatures without reason or language who attacked us as if we were mortal, and ran screaming from the prayers we said to drive them away. The vampires in Istanbul actually dwelt in houses, safe behind high wall and gates, their graves in their gardens, and dressed as all humans do in that part of the world, in flowing robes, to hunt the nighttime streets. Yet even they were quite horrified to see me living amongst the French and the Venetians, riding in carriages, joining the gatherings at the European embassies and homes. They menaced us, shouting incantations at us, and then ran in panic when we turned on them, only to come back and devil us again. The revenants who haunted the Mameluke tombs in Cairo were beastly wraiths, held to the old laws by hollow-eyed masters who lived in the ruins of a Coptic monastery, their rituals full of Eastern magic and the evocation of many demons and evil spirits whom they called by strange names.

Going by Lestat's recount these revenants as he calls them are not even rare... given IWTV was the first book it's not surprising that it was expanded later, but within canon context it raises the question whether Louis and Claudia maybe only expected these kind of vampires there, you know?

I found it very clever of the show to hint at the blood being connected to a vampire's mental health very early on, when the criminal biscuit event happens. Lestat says:

Eat before your reason or his heart fails us.

Lestat has seen the revenants of Les Innocents, and later even becomes something similar:

And what Louis could not describe in his story is what happened to me after, how for years I hunted on the edge of the human herd, a hideous and crippled monster, who could strike down only the very young or infirm. In constant danger from my victims, I became the very antithesis of the romantic demon, bringing terror rather than rapture, resembling nothing so much as the old revenants of les Innocents in their filth and rags. The wounds I'd suffered affected my very spirit, my capacity to reason.

Now, Lestat doesn't lose all his reason. He has "enough" reason to go to earth eventually, to heal.

But it is indeed interesting that her vampires are actually in constant danger of degenerating if not... "taking care of themselves" properly, and in the context of the show... it must have been hell to watch Louis weaken himself to the point where he almost couldn't hold a book.

Because Lestat knows what starvation does to vampires.

But yes, after this - Louis does, too.

(In the later books there are some references to still roaming vampires, but though those may be rogue they are probably not revenants, since the burnings errr.... cleaned those up. And only the strong ones survived. It also sheds an interesting light imho on Armand's habit of cleaning up wherever he's at. He didn't just kill revenants, but all the vampires he could find, true, but it makes you wonder if he maybe couldn't stand the reminder of those... "revenants of les Innocents in their filth and rags". And as the coven master...)

[venusprincess-ts3]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

,Thanks for tagging me @simsmono​ and @chinsims​  ☺️ I enjoyed reading yours!

Are you named after anyone? Nah, it’s just a name my parents liked.

When was the last time you cried? Watching Guardians of the galaxy 3, I cried so much 😭 I loved the movie, but it has so many sad and emotional parts.

Do you have kids? No thank you, never ever.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I wouldn’t say a lot, but a bit yeah. And a lot of times I can’t tell if people are being sarcastic 😆

What sports do you play/have you played? Nothing official. When I was a kid, I used to play basketball on the basketball court down the street, it’s where all the kids/teens hanged out. More recently, I’ve played badminton. It’s just for the fun, no rules. It’s just trying to not let the thing fall. I don’t know the name of the badminton thing in english lol Edit: I just found out it’s called shuttlecock, and now I’m laughing like I’m 10 years old 😂

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? Their mouth I guess. Either smile, teeth or the way they use the tongue when talking. Like, if they talk Christian Bale type of way 😆

Scary movies or happy endings? Depends on what I’m watching. Sometimes I prefer if a movie/series/anime doesn’t have an happy ending, because it becomes less believable and seems “fake” in the context they are written. Life isn’t all about happy endings. (eg Attack on titan, Promised neverland, Alice in borderland). Sometimes I want the characters to have a happy ending (eg Given, Sasaki to Miyano). It depends on the context of what I’m watching. I also like scary movies though. But not like the Exorcism or Friday 13 (I don’t find those scary at all). I find it scarier when it’s psychological horror or creepy Sh*t. (eg Forgotten)

Any special talents? Nope.

Where were you born? Portugal.

What are your hobbies? Making sims clothes (I do that more often than I enter the game 😅 ), watching anime and series.

Do you have any pets? No.

How tall are you? 160cm ( 5′ 2)

Fave subject in school? I really enjoyed biology (theoretical classes and laboratory ones) and English.

Dream job?  I agree with Simsmono on this one: getting paid to travel and eat hehe

Eye colour? Dark brown I guess.

I can’t think of anyone that hasn’t done it yet, so I’m gonna tag people from the notifications.

@gifappels-stuff @bast-sims @gaiahypothesims @jazzysimlife Well that’s it xD I see that many people have already done this.

Feel free to ignore 😉