#Also. she should let the reader form his own opinion about him. Even if he gains more fans because of them it won't be the end of the world

[aleksanderscult]

Confirmation that Leigh Bardugo has actually written chapters of S&B and S&S from the Darkling's POV

(and they're unreleased 🥲🔫)

And here a user asked her "How did the Darkling reacted when he realized that Alina left after the Winter fete?":

So his POVs show us how he reacted then. What he felt and (I bet) if he went to her room that night or not.

And this is confirmation that his POVs also hold important information about his feelings for Alina:

(ignore the user's comments about the Darkling and the "perfect" Mal)

Now. She has either forgotten about them (doubt it) or she knows that if the readers sees them they'll think "Wait. His POVs make sense. He's not crazy after all" (that's more likely).

Now we just need someone to hack her computer and get those scenes.🙂

[stllmnstr]

all the things I never said

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers

word count: 7.3k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, heeseung is so romantic I want to die a little, a kiss that gets quite heated, this is very much unedited

note: happy (almost) Heeseung day! I hope you enjoy this little romantic take on childhood friends to lovers ♡

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung has a secret.

It’s scribbled on a forgotten note, tucked away in a bottom drawer, carved with a shaky hand into the aging wood of his childhood treehouse. 

Sometimes, on cloudless nights, he looks up at the stars and tells them what he’s been hiding for so long. In response, the midnight sky twinkles in a way that looks all too much like laughter. 

On afternoons in late autumn, Heeseung whispers the truth to the wind and watches as it’s carried away with an array of dead leaves. 

A million little gestures. A thousand tiny moments that are inconsequential on their own. But when pieced together, string a story so obvious he’s not sure if his heart could ever handle it. 

But he’s not sure what would happen, if he shouted at the top of his lungs instead of confiding the world around him in hushed whispers. 

He’s a firm believer in balance and is terribly afraid that letting words drip from his tongue would only spell disaster.

So for now, he lets Mother Nature serve as his only confidant and hopes that she’ll keep her vows of silence.

There was a time, not all too long ago, when his secret wasn’t, well, a secret. When he used to speak freely and honestly without a fear of the future, without anxiety of repercussions.

But all secrets have their reasons, and all stories have a beginning.

For Heeseung, both begin on a rather ordinary afternoon in early summer nearly twelve years ago. 

…

Heeseung’s right palm is annoyingly sweaty. So much so that the shaky grip on his pencil is in danger of being lost. 

Half of his attention is directed towards the front of the classroom, where his fourth grade teacher reiterates the guidelines for the upcoming solar system project.

The other half is trained directly on the small white note currently clutched between Mina’s fingers. 

Even at nine, Heeseung knows she’s a terrible gossip that can’t be trusted. Just earlier today, she spent all of morning recess hounding poor Jake about his supposed crush on her best friend. She was unrelenting, no matter how fervently Jake denied the accusation or how crimson his cheekbones turned.

Unfortunately for Heeseung, she also sits directly between you and him. A particular stroke of cruelty on Mrs. Kim’s part, in Heeseung’s opinion, but the desk arrangement of his fourth grade classroom is the least for his worries at this point.

He swallows. A bead of sweat forms at the edge of his hairline. Late May has tumbled into his hometown with an unseasonable warmth, but that’s not the reason for his perspiration this afternoon.  

With an audible swallow, he locates the paper in his peripheral vision. 

Still clutched between Mina’s fingers. 

Mrs. Kim has turned her back at least three times since he handed the note off with very clear directions about who to give it to. There’s no reason Mina should still be turning it over between her sticky fingers.

Unless…

No. Heeseung won’t assume the worst. Not when it took him nearly the entire school year to work up the courage. 

With one final repetition of the project due date, Mrs. Kim slides off of her chair at the front of the room and walks to her desk tucked away in the opposite corner.

Heeseung’s heart skips a beat.

It’s the perfect opportunity, a golden window.

He glances at Mina, half terrified, half excited.

This is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. The moment he’s been mustering up courage for over the past six months. 

He’s doing it. It’s happening. It’s really happening.

And then, all at once, his excitement starts to transform. Starts to turn into dread before it morphs into worry. 

“Uh, Mrs. Kim?” It’s Mina’s voice. And Heeseung knew she liked to spread rumors, but he didn’t think that would extend to their teacher. 

Heeseung is panicking, trying to figure out a way to save face, to avoid the detention that is sure to come with the classroom crime of passing notes. 

Mrs. Kim looks up from her desk. Heeseung thinks he might pass out.

But then Mina says, “I don’t think ___ feels too good.”

For a moment, Heeseung basks in the relief of not having his secrets spilled in the middle of silent work time. But then, the words register. Form meaning in his mind. 

The loud screech of metal against linoleum rings out like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet classroom. Heeseung stands up from his seat with a ridiculous speech. It’s a miracle he didn’t know anything off his desk. And he didn’t mean to, not really, but he couldn’t see you around Mina sitting down.

At first glance, her appraisal seems to be correct. You’re pale, terribly so, and shaking slightly where you sit in your seat. 

Heeseung doesn’t realize his mistake until Mrs. Kim turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow and most of the class does the same. 

In the back corner, Jake and Sunghoon share a meaningful glance.

“Uh,” Heeseung stammers, “Sorry.” Red faced, he takes his seat again. This time, he’s more covert as he turns his gaze back to you. 

Mrs. Kim approaches your desk quickly. “Hi, Sweetie,” she greets in that voice she has reserved for scraped knees and other ailments. “Are you feeling okay?”

You shake your head. It’s a minuscule movement that Heeseung tracks intensely. 

Mrs. Kim lays a gentle hand across your forehead. “You’re burning up.” She frowns. “Why don’t you head down to the nurse? I’ll let her know you’re on your way.”

Again, you say nothing. The only response you give is a small nod as you gather the materials sprawled across your desk.

Heeseung watches, a little pathetically, as you place them carefully in your cubby before leaving through the door.

You do turn to look at him, just before you exit. When you find his eyes already trained on you, you give him a small smile.

Heeseung’s heart clenches. Whether in fear or anxiety or the same funny feeling that made him spill his heart in the note, he’s not entirely sure.

And then you’re gone. Heeseung makes a mental note to check in with you later, ride his bike the short distance between your neighborhoods and knock on your front door. Your mother is no stranger to his appearances at this point, after all. He won’t bug you, not if you’re resting. But he’ll check in on you, maybe bring you some tea or soup or flowers or whatever else grown ups always say is supposed to make you feel better when you’re sick. 

He’s so caught up in his sudden afternoon plans that he almost forgets the paper, the note, still sitting between Mina’s fingers. 

Oh well.

He’ll have to try another day, he supposes. It’s not fair to put anything else on your plate when you’re not feeling well.

Heeseung shifts in his seat, turns to ask Mina to just give him the note back. To his horror, she’s already begun to undo his careful folding. The kind of edges only someone who spends long afternoons doing origami with his grandmother could manage. 

“What are you doing?” Heeseung hisses, trying to shout without breaking a whisper.

Mina pays him no mind, swats the air like he’s nothing more than a buzzing fly. 

“Stop,” Heeseung pleads, “That’s not for y–”

But Mina doesn’t care. Much to his horror, she unfolds the note entirely, leaves it tucked discreetly beneath her desk.

Sparing one final glance at Mrs. Kim, she confirms that her attention is elsewhere. And then she reads it.

It’s unmistakable, the way her eyes scan over words that were never meant for her.

Heeseung has half a mind to cause another scene, stand up out of his seat again and snatch the note from her, detention be damned.

But it’s too late. The damage is done.

Mina turns to face him fully, a quizzical look pulling her brow downwards. She stares at him, eyes narrowed, appraising, as if this is the first time she’s seen him. 

And then she folds the note back up, tucks it away underneath her notebook. 

A million awful scenarios flash through Heeseung’s mind. Mina making copies of the note and distributing them to the entire class. Mina taking the note to Mrs. Kim and ratting him out. Mina making sure the entire school is privy to Heeseung’s secret before the day is done.

But in the end, he doesn’t need to worry about any of that. After an agonizing stretch of silent work time where Heeseung gets absolutely nothing done, Mina finds him outside the classroom at the water fountain. 

Heeseung is in the middle of downing a near concerning amount of lukewarm fountain water when she walks up next to him.

Lifting his head, Heeseung wipes the spare drops from his mouth.

“Here,” Mina hands him the note. She tried to fold it back up, but it was clearly done with inexperienced hands. The lines are no longer crisp, the edges no longer sharp. His work has been tainted.

“I…” Heeseung starts. Should he thank her? Beg her not to tell anyone? Plead with her not to tell you? 

Ultimately, he doesn’t need to. Mina cuts him off before he can get another word out.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Heeseung will believe it when he sees it, but maybe, just maybe, Mina will actually keep a secret to herself this time. 

Heeseung exhales a sigh of relief, tension draining from his shoulders. The victory is short lived.

“You shouldn’t give that to her, though.”

Heeseung balks, freezing for a moment. “What?”

“That note.” Mina nods towards the item in question, clutched between Heeseung’s white knuckles. “Don’t give it to ___.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. He can’t decide whether he should be angry or confused. This was never meant to be something for Mina to pass judgment on. If he wanted her two cents, he would have asked. 

Still, he asks, “Why?”

Mina sighs, looks at him like he’s an orphaned panda in the local zoo. “Because she likes Jay, not you. Everyone knows about it. She gave him a Kit Kat on Valentine’s Day when everyone else just got a Hershey Kiss, and everyone knows that Kit Kats are better. Plus, she–”

Heeseung doesn’t hear the rest of it. It’s as if he’s suddenly been submerged in icy water. Frozen in his body as the world around him is muffled to a dull, indecipherable hum. His heart drops to his stomach; the world spins on its axis.

Jay. 

Jay?

Jay?

Heeseung likes Jay. He’s smart and kind and can play the guitar, which Heeseung can’t deny is incredibly cool. Too cool. So, painfully cool, and you must think so too. 

Heeseung wants to cry a little bit. Wants to scream. Wants to eat his feelings and his words and his incomplete confession until there’s nothing left of them and this whole terrible day is nothing but a faded, forgotten memory. 

Instead, he turns away from Mina mid-sentence and takes robotic steps back into the classroom. Slides down into his seat like he’s in a trance. Finished out the school day with his head in the clouds.

You don’t return to class. Heeseung assumes that you went home straight from the nurse’s office. 

And when Mrs. Kim catches him at the door and asks if he’d be willing to bring your backpack to you, all he can do is give a miserable, dejected nod. 

Mrs. Kim has the tact to not say anything, but she does notice. Especially since he’s usually jumping out of his seat at the opportunity to do anything remotely revolving you. 

She watches with a frown as he exits through the classroom door, head hung and shoulders slumped. Your backpack dangling uselessly between his fingers. 

The air outside is warm, uncharacteristically so for late May. But now it’s choking with something too. A humidity that clings to skin and feels foreboding, especially with the way clouds begin to gather overhead. 

Heeseung is halfway to your house when the rain begins. It’s thick, heavy, unforgiving in the way summer showers always are. 

When he dismounts his bike at the edge of your driveway, he’s in such a hurry to get your things to you before they’re soaked through that he doesn't notice the small, white paper that falls out of his pocket with the motion. 

Just as he predicted, your mother greets him at the door. She’s thankful for your school things and mildly horrified at the dripping wet child on her doorstep. She offers him a towel and a ride home in her car, both of which Heeseung declines politely. 

By the time he finishes the ride home, he is well and truly soaked. He’s grateful, at least, for the way rain disguised the singular tear track that stains his left cheek.

And later than night, dry and warm and alone, he lets one more tear fall. Laying against his pillow, it’s warm where it gathers in the corner of his eye, salty as it breaches the barrier of his top lip.

And then he makes a decision. Despair will do him no good, and it’s not like anything has changed, not really. 

It’s you that he values, your presence and your friendship and your smiles. He won’t lose those things, even if you save all your Kit Kats for Jay. Even if he has to banish the butterflies in his stomach and hope they don’t escape. Even if he has to pretend his heart doesn’t hurt a little every time he looks at you. 

But summer is coming soon and his year in fourth grade is nearly done. There are lots of things to look forward to, and you’ll still be just a short bike ride away. Even if your heart suddenly feels unreachable.

When Heeseung falls asleep that night, his sleep is dreamless and undisturbed.

And a handful of neighborhoods away, a small white piece of paper sinks to the bottom of a puddle. Soaked from the rain and worse for wear, the careful writing is nearly unintelligible. 

But if someone wanted to, if they really tried, they just might be able to make out the message. 

Dear ___, it reads.

I think you have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. I like the way your hair looks in the sun, and I’m glad we’re in the same class. I couldn’t decide how to tell you, so I think I’ll just write it here. I like you. I think you’re pretty and smart and nice and I like you a lot. Can I buy you ice cream at the shop at the end of your street? We can eat it together. :)

Sinceerly,

Sincerely,

Heeseung

…..

The early afternoon sun glints off the ocean in a way that’s almost blinding. Seated on a faded beach towel that’s more sand than fabric at this point, Heeseung readjusts his sunglasses. They sit on the bridge of his nose and do less to shield his wandering gaze than he thinks. 

He reaches for the tote bag a few feet away from him, hands in search of the extra strength sunscreen his mom packed two bottles of and reminded him no less than fifty times to reapply. Heeseung figures now’s as good a time as any to follow her instructions. He’s half afraid she’ll actually wring his neck if he comes back sunburnt with his first day of eighth grade just around the corner. 

Besides, the current object of his attention is down at the water’s edge. Heeseung thanks his lucky stars you’re too preoccupied with searching for seashells to watch as he slathers a ridiculously high SPF sunscreen all over his face.

Early August has been milder than late July, but the air is still heavy with a heat that’s almost oppressive. He has half a mind to join you in the water for a reprieve from the weather if nothing else. 

Despite himself, Heeseung’s eyes never stray far from you. Disaster of a fourth-grade confession aside, he likes to think he’s done a decent job of keeping his feelings close to his chest. Not that they’ve ever changed much, to be honest. 

He’s old enough now, far enough into the painfully awkward clutches of puberty to put more words to the way his heart always feels a little funny whenever you’re near. 

He has a crush. 

A high school, sweaty palm, awkward conversations at your locker between periods crush. 

But Heeseung is a master of disguise and this is no exception. For the last six years, he’s held up his side of your steady friendship with nothing outside the realm of platonic. 

Even if his gaze always tends to linger a little too long, even if he spends most of every middle school dance standing on the sidelines imaging you asking him to join you, even if he never has quite been able to look at Jay the same way, he’s happy to be your friend. Content in the comfortable routines between the two of you. The easy kind of closeness that comes with growing up with someone. 

For better or for worse, he knows you like the back of his hand. And you know him just as well. Besides the one secret he never can quite bring himself to divulge, that is. 

On a towel a few feet away, Sunghoon glances at Heeseung. Follows his gaze and is less than surprised to find that his lovesick puppy eyes are trained squarely on your shoulders. 

Sunghoon nudges Jake, wordlessly gesturing to Heeseung with a jerk of his chin. Jake follows the movement, traces the same line of sight Sunghoon noticed just moments ago. 

The two boys share a look and then an eye roll. 

It’s been the same old story since their shared days in Mrs. Kim’s fourth grade class, and Sunghoon is growing weary of witnessing this same old song and dance never reach any kind of conclusion. 

Sunghoon clears his throat. Heeseung doesn’t notice. 

A bit louder this time, Sunghoon says, “Hey, Heeseung.”

That finally gets his attention, even if it does take him a comically long time to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah?”

“You could, oh, I don’t know, just talk to her, you know.” 

“What?” Sunghoon can’t tell if his confusion is genuine or if he’s suddenly become a fantastic actor. “Who?”

“Is that a joke? ___. Who else?”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. “___?” He echoes. “I talk to her all the time. I invited her today.”

“Yeah, okay, but I mean really talk to her.”

“I don’t know how you think we communicate, but I did ‘really talk to her’ when I asked if she wanted to come to the beach t–”

Jake sighs. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take. “He’s saying you should tell her that you like her, idiot.” 

“What?” Heeseung splutters. “I don’t… I don’t like ____,” he insists in a way that is not at all convincing. 

“Right,” Sunghoon nods. “And I’m going to pass algebra with an A next semester.”

“We’re friends.” Despite himself, Heeseung glances at you again out of the corner of his eye. His stomach gives a very unfriendly flip, but the two boys next to him don’t need to know that. 

“I don’t get why you’re still so weird about it.” Sunghoon shakes his head. “You’ve literally been obsessed with her since, like, fourth grade.”

“Yeah,” Jake nods. “Remember that day she got sick in class and he nearly knocked his chair over because he stood up so fast—”

“I was worried about my friend,” Heeseung insists, desperate to change the topic. That day is a particularly sore memory for more than one reason. “I would have done the same for either of you.” 

“Uh, no thanks.” Sunghoon shakes his head. 

“I’ll pass too,” Jake agrees. “You can save all that lovesick shit for—” 

“Lovesick?” a voice interrupts. “Who’s lovesick?” 

Three sets of eyes turn to you, two colored in mild humor and one tinged with abject horror. 

Sunghoon reaches over with devious intent in his grin. Patting Heeseung on the shoulder, he responds, “Well, your friend Heeseung here—”

“Heard Jungwon talking about a new girl he met this summer.” Heeseung interjects desperately, pausing only to send his two friends a withering glare. “I guess he’s super into her.”

“Oh, really?” Oblivious to the sighs of frustration Sunghoon and Jake exchange, you slide down in the seat next to Heeseung. “Good for him. Between school and dance and taekwondo, I thought he’d always be too busy to meet someone.” 

Nudging the boy next to you, you add, “Kinda like someone else I know. I’m surprised you had time for the beach today with basketball starting so soon.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t. Heeseung should be at the court near his house right now, practicing layups. At the very least, he should be going for a run or getting some pre-season cardio in. 

But you’ve been mentioning wanting to go on one last trip to the beach before the school year starts for weeks now, and Heeseung has never been good at denying you much. Well, other than access to his real feelings, that is. 

Feigning a nonchalance he doesn’t feel, Heeseung shrugs. “I can take a day off every now and then.” 

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow. Because I heard that a certain someone asked you to the movies last week and you said you were too busy,”

For you. Heeseung should have clarified. I can take a day off for you.  

“What?” Sunghoon pipes up. “Who?”

“No one,” Heeseung grumbles. 

Rolling your eyes, you lean over him, angling your face towards Sunghoon conspiratorially. “Her name rhymes with Schmarina.”

“Dude!” This time, it’s Jake who slaps him on the shoulder. “Karina asked you out and you said no? Are you stupid?”

“No,” Heeseung protests. “She didn’t even ask me out. It wasn’t like that.”

“Mhmm.” Sarcasm drips from your voice. “That’s not what Mina said.”

That absolute gossip. “RIght, because you can always trust what Mina says.”

“Sunoo confirmed it too.”

“He’s just as bad!”

“Okay, okay.” You raise your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll drop it. But if she does ever ask you out, I think you should say yes.”

Heeseung forces his features into neutrality. Tries to conceal the fact that your words feel a little bit like a thousand knives stabbing him right in the heart. Ends up looking a little bit constipated. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you admonish. “She’s really sweet.”

Heeseung’s sure she is. He just doesn’t care. Karina could be the kindest, nicest, sweetest girl on planet earth and he would still find a reason to let her down gently. But he can’t exactly tell you that, not when it would only lead to more questions that he is not ready to answer. 

Instead, he just shrugs again. A non response. A hopeful end to the conversation. 

Luckily, you take his silence as a sign to divert, even if Jake and Sunghoon are still sitting flabbergasted right next to the two of you. 

“Speaking of basketball,” you redirect the subject. “I heard that East High’s team is supposed to be really strong this year.” They’re your high school’s biggest rival and the primary reason Heeseung spends so much of his free time on the court. They’re also the reason his coach is already giving speeches about the importance of winning this year’s opening game. 

“I figured you might need a little extra luck.”

Sunghoon chokes on a laugh. “C’mon, ____. Cut him some slack. He’s not that bad at basketball.”

“What?” You frown. “No, that’s not what I meant.” Turning back to Heeseung, you clarify. “I promise it’s not. I know you’re, like, insanely good. I just…” You trail off. Heeseung is too busy trying not to explode from the compliment to notice the way your cheeks go slightly pink. “I just saw this when I was down at the water.”

Hastily, you shove your outstretched palm beneath his nose. Encased in your hand is a fully intact, unblemished, perfectly round sand dollar. “It’s supposed to be good luck to find them unbroken,” you explain. “It made me think of you. Uh, I mean, of basketball,” you’re quick to amend. 

“Right,” Heeseung can barely hear you over the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears. “For basketball.”

“For basketball,” you nod. 

But when his fingers accidentally brush the skin of your palm as he accepts your good luck charm, basketball is the last thing on his mind. 

And when he tucks the sand dollar into the bottom drawer of his dresser for safekeeping later that night, he finally lets the giant, unrestrained smile he’s been holding in all day take over his entire face. 

…..

Heeseung’s head is spinning. 

And maybe it’s the late summer heat or dregs of the too sweet wine cooler that are getting to him. But neither of those have the ability to fuck with him as much of the sight of you in a sundress does. 

A sundress. A real, proper, flowy, honest to god sundress. 

Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever felt more insane in his life. 

It doesn’t help that this is the first time he’s seen you in months. Going from classmates to students at different universities has been a difficult transition to say the least. But your friendship has weathered a lot, and this is no exception. 

It doesn’t matter that the thoughts Heeseung is having right now are very much not friendly. He’s been dealing with those for the better part of a decade too. 

But it feels different tonight. 

You’re older. He’s older. The two of you have grown and changed and matured and the feelings he harbors have started to feel a little less like a crush. 

And a lot more like something with far more devastating consequences. 

You’ve always been pretty. The prettiest girl in the world in his eyes. 

But tonight, in the fading glow of another late sunset, looking at you is almost painful. 

Heeseung wishes for a lot of things. He wishes it was just the two of you here. Mostly because he can see Sunghoon and Jake making vulgar gestures in the background every time his gaze lingers on you a little too long. And that happens a lot. 

He wishes that he was a better friend. That he could give you the support and undivided attention and platonic love that you deserve. That he wasn’t always keeping it guarded behind his fear of revealing too much. Of ruining the best relationship he’s even built in his nineteen years of life. 

And sometimes, in his weaker moments, he wishes that he could go back to the fourth grade. He would tell Mina to give her opinion to someone that asked for it and give you that letter. He wonders if things would be different. How they would be different. 

In his favorite dreams, you returned his feelings, even back then. The two of you grew up skirting that line the way teenagers do. And then, when you were ready, it turned into something real. Something honest. Something he doesn’t have to hide. 

But in his moments of fear, Mina was right. Your attention was somewhere else and his note becomes nothing but an embarrassing memory. Something the two of you never overcome. Something that prevents you from forming friendship at all. 

That, Heeseung decides, no matter how much he might sometimes wish thing were different, will never be worth the risk. 

So he does what he always does. He keeps his feelings close to his chest and nurses another warm beer along with a wounded heart. 

Across the yard, Heeseung watches you laugh at something Jay says. It’s real laugh, the kind that makes your eyes twinkle and makes his head spin. 

Jay. He can’t help the way his grip tightens against the bottle in his hand. Who even invited him tonight? 

It’s not like anything ever came of Mina’s prediction. As far as he knows, you’ve never so much as given Jay another Kit Kat. But the sight of the two of you together still has an ugly green monster rearing its head. 

Eventually, the evening, as all evenings do, starts to draw to its inevitable end. 

You catch Heeseung’s eye across the yard just as everyone is bidding their farewells. Silently, you jerk your chin, motioning him over. 

Putty in your grip, Heeseung complies with no trace of resistance. 

When he finally reaches you, you don’t offer much of an explanation. Instead, you just motion for him to follow you again. 

“For old time’s sake,” is all you say. 

But it’s not much of a hint. After all, the two of you have memories scattered across this entire city. Tucked in alleys and street corners and shops. Safekept in all of your favorite childhood destinations. Forged in Heeseung’s memory. 

Finally, the two of you reach the edge of a small stretch of forest. A place the two of you used to visit whenever the rest of the world just felt like a little too much to bear. A place where you discovered the small treehouse you lead him to now. 

Wordlessly, you outstretch your hand, encasing his grip in your own. Heeseung has already begun to lose remnants of his boyhood. His features are losing their youthful roundess, are sharpening into a face that unmistakably belongs to a man. 

But with his hand in yours, he feels nine again. Nursing the unsteady heartbeat and sweaty palms that come with a first crush. 

When the two of you finally reach the top of the ladder, you ease your way through the opening first. 

You’ve nearly outgrown this place. The two of you have to hunch slightly to avoid hitting the roof with your heads. 

“Remember coming here that day my cat ran away?” You’re not looking at him, gaze wandering around the space, collecting memories like souvenirs. 

“Mr. Mittens,” Heeseung nods. “How could I forget?” 

“I still think he’s out there somewhere. He couldn’t forgive my dad when he stopped giving him table scraps.” Your tone is light, teasing. 

But the space is small and it leaves no choice but for the two of you to sit close. So close. Too close. Not nearly close enough. 

Still, Heeseung does his best to maintain his composure. “Mm,” he agrees. “I’m sure he’s very happy now. Probably eating leftovers as we speak.”

The conversation drifts into silence. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is charged. Fraught with something Heeseung’s been trying to ignore for the last ten years. 

“Heeseung?” Your voice is small. He feels it as much as he hears it. 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t mean to sound so breathless, but he can’t help it. Not here. Not now.

“I missed you.” 

For a moment, it’s all he can do to stare at you. He missed you too. So much it hurt. But it feels like he’s been missing you for years now. Missing something he’s never allowed himself to ask for. 

“I mean, I knew I would.” You drop your gaze now, toying with the hem of your dress. “And I know we still texted and called a lot, but there were so many times when I just wished you were there with me, you know?”

He does. He does. 

“Yeah,” Heeseung nods, jaw working. He swallows hard. His voice sounds scraped raw. “I felt the exact same.”

You meet his gaze again. Hold it for a moment. And then another. Heeseung watches as your lips part, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. 

For a second, he thinks you’re about to say something else. But then you shake your head. It’s a tiny movement, barely perceptible. But he sees it. He always does. 

Diverting the subject, you ease some of the tension. “Do you have anything sharp?”

“Sharp?” he echoes. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Instead of explaining, you reach for a rock next to your knee. Holding it up, you grin at him. “This should work.”

Scooting closer to the interior wall of the treehouse, you begin your handiwork. After a couple of minutes, you sit back on your heels, satisfied. 

“What do you think?” You turn over your shoulder to glance at him. 

Heeseung thinks a lot of things. He thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do in this very moment, this exact second. He thinks his heart might actually be beating loud enough for it to be audible. He thinks he’s not going to survive another semester away from you. 

He thinks he might be in love. 

And when his eyes settle on the wall over your shoulder, he knows he is. 

Because there, in the respite of your childhood treehouse, you’ve carved both of your initials into the wood and framed them with a slightly lopsided heart. 

It’s messy. It’s imperfect. It’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen. Well, he amends as his gaze slides back to you, it’s his second favorite, maybe. 

“It’s perfect,” he tells you. 

A handful of minutes later, when you find yourself approaching his doorstep, Heeseung notices the way you suppress a shiver against the slight chill of the gentle night time breeze. For him, it’s the most natural thing in the world to offer you a sweatshirt. Something to keep you warm while he walks you home. 

You’re no stranger to the inside of his bedroom, but Heeseung’s heart still jumps regardless. It’s so intimate, the way you navigate his space like it’s your own. The way you sit down on the edge of his bed without thinking anything of it. 

“Bottom drawer,” Heeseung nods towards his dresser. He rearranged while packing for his dorm. “I have a few sweatshirts in there. You can take any of them.”

Nodding, you stand from his bed, quiet footsteps tracing a path over to the dresser. But when you open the bottom drawer a moment later, it’s not a sweatshirt you hold in your hands. 

“You still have this?” There’s a bit of wonder in your voice. A soft edge that Heeseung would read more into if he wasn’t suddenly panicking. 

It’s the sand dollar, he realizes. The one you gave him all those years ago. A good luck charm. Stupid, how could he be so stupid to forget that he left it in that drawer too? 

It’s not damning evidence of anything, not really. But it’s late and he’s tired and you’re still in that fucking dress. Logic was never going to be anything but a losing game. 

“Of course,” Heeseung admits. “We won every game that season.” 

You know. You were there to watch all of them. 

“Heeseung?” Something in your tone has all of his attention zeroing in on you. Maybe it’s the strange stroke of timidness. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve always commanded his focus, even when you’re not trying. 

“Yeah?” That breathlessness is back. Heeseung can’t find it in himself to curse it. 

You’re still standing across the room from him. The sand dollar enclosed in your gentle grip. When you finally tear your gaze away from it, it’s to look Heeseung in the eye. 

“Can I…?” You’re unsure. Shy. Heeseung has seen a whole lot of you, but he has no idea what to do with this. 

“Can I try something?” Your teeth are worrying at your bottom lip like the words taste bitter. Like you can’t decide whether you regret them or not. 

Heeseung would give you the world if you asked for it, but he knows better. 

He’ll play his cards the same way he always has. 

“Try what?”

You don’t answer him. Not with words, at least. 

Instead, you begin to trace a steady path towards him. The sand dollar is still in your hand. Heeseung’s heart is still in his throat. The hem of your dress brushes gently against the bare expanse of your thigh, just about your knee. 

You’re standing right in front of him now. There’s less than a foot of emptiness between you. Heeseung has no idea what to do with that liminal space. He can’t decide whether he should close it or widen it until his brain starts to function again. 

“Is this weird?” you whisper. 

It is. It is. 

“No.”

“Okay,” you nod. You avert your gaze, buying time. “Good.”

He watches your chest rise with an unsteady inhale. Fall with a shaky exhale. 

You bend to set the sand dollar down on the floor to the left of you. 

And then your hand is on his shoulder. Gripping lightly, like you need the support. 

Close. You’re so fucking close. 

And with every passing heartbeat, you’re only getting closer. 

Without meaning to, Heeseung is screwing his eyes shut. 

Later, he’ll regret it. Not committing every possible detail to memory. 

But right now, any semblance of logic is lost with the shreds of sanity he’s been dropping at your feet for the past ten years. 

With the sureness of a steady thing, you ruin them all in one fell swoop.

And then your lips are on his. 

It’s a gentle pressure. Light. No expectations, no demands. No promises or secrets or vows. But the hand on his shoulder is gripping harder now. 

And the second Heeseung regains control of his limbs, he mirrors your action. One hand finds the notch at the bottom of your spine and the other pushes hair away from your temple. 

You’re gentle, unsure. You’re afraid you’re crossing a foolish boundary, ruining a friendship you cherish. 

But Heeseung has been warring with every thought that’s crossed his mind for years, and he can’t find it in himself to be patient now. There’s no hesitation when he pulls you closer. No semblance of restraint when he presses his mouth against yours more firmly, when he swallows the shallow gasp you give him and then begs for more. 

Restraint is all he’s ever known but there’s nothing left of it now. 

When he feels your lips part against his own, he takes it as an invitation. An opening. An offering he’s only ever been afforded in his favorite dreams. 

But this is different. It’s better. You’re real. So fucking tangible and his hands can’t decide where to go next. 

They make quick work of tracing your spine, your neck, your collarbone. But he’s greedy and he’s desperate and he wants his hands as full of you as his mind is. 

It’s not long before fingers are slipping under the flimsy strap of your dress, forging a path that he follows with his lips. 

He hears you sigh, feels the whisper of breath against his hair. And then he hears you whimper. 

A long, drawn out plea that sounds all too much like “Heeseung.”

He shudders, all the way down to his toes. And then he’s pulling you backwards, flipping your positioning so that your spine is pressed against the wall of his bedroom. 

One hand rests above your shoulder, the other beside your head. He sets his forehead against your own, eyes still screwed shut. His heartbeat races in time with the shallow breath in his chest. 

“You have to tell me to stop.” His voice is raw, ragged. “You have to tell me to stop before I fucking lose it.”

“What if I want you to?”

He’s dead. He has to be. Caught in a purgatory of his own making, stuck between a heaven and hell perfectly curated for his ruination.  

“We can’t—” You could, and that’s what makes it so impossible. 

But for Heeseung, this is the culmination of a decade of repressed feelings. Of fleeting touches and lingering gazes and first crushes and the realization that he’s been carrying love with him before he knew what to call it. 

He has no idea what this is for you. 

“I have to know what you’re thinking.” It’s barely a whisper. His voice nearly cracks on the last syllable. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more scared in his life. 

Quietly, your hand finds the base of his neck. Your fingertips trace his skin, a soothing rhythm that does little to quiet the war in his mind. But it does tether him to the moment, anchors him in the present. 

You whisper, and he feels your breath against his swollen lips. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t,” he shakes his head. It’s a lie. He’s terrified. 

“But what if—”

“I’m in love with you.” It was always going to be him that confessed first. It had to be. “I’ve been in love with you since we were nine years old.” It’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest, as if the world around him is a little lighter now. “You won’t scare me.”

You break the contact of your foreheads, and Heeseung misses your touch the second it’s gone. He’s grateful for the hand that still traces gentle circles on the skin of his nape. 

You use the distance you’ve created to look him in the eye. Searching for any trace of dishonesty, you find nothing but a long held secret, a well-guarded truth. 

“You love me?” You don’t even have to ask. You can see it in his eyes. 

“More than you know.”

“Good,” you whisper, an echo from before. “Because I love you.”

When he kisses you this time, it’s softer. Gentler. The urgency in his gut is still there, but it’s been quieted a bit. Replaced with a distinct sort of fondness he does his best to communicate with touch. 

Love. He spells it with every breath that spills against your own. 

Love. He imbes it into every touch against bare skin. 

Love. He whispers it in your ear and shudders when you do the same. 

Because that sand dollar isn’t stuck in his bottom drawer anymore, hidden away from the light. It’s here, in the openness of his childhood bedroom. A truth between the two of you. 

And when he picks it up again later, he sets it on top of the dresser. Where he and you and anyone else that might pass by can see it. 

…..

Lee Heeseung has a secret. 

It’s whispered in practice runs with Jake and Sunghoon, imagined on the nights he pulls you closer to him as he drifts off to sleep, hidden away in a small, nondescript black box in the back of his closet. 

But Heeseung isn’t nine anymore. He’s not fifteen or nineteen.

He’s twenty-six, and he’s learned a thing or two about secrets. 

So this time, he only holds this one for a month, only carries it with him for a handful of weeks before he divulges. 

And when he does finally get you right where he wants you, back in that same too small treehouse, his secret spills easily. 

Even though his voice is shaky, even though his hands tremble with overflowing nerves. 

He can’t drop to one knee, not exactly. And he nearly drops the little black box when he pulls it from his coat pocket. 

But the ring slides onto your left hand without a hint of resistance. And the stone flickers in dying daylight like it was meant just for you. 

This time, he doesn’t hide behind a note or a sand dollar or even a kiss. 

Instead, he looks you in the eye when he tells you loves you. 

He smiles, a hopeful thing, when he asks you to marry him. 

All the things he never said, every word he never told you, are all here, now. 

Every second of torment, every moment of agony suddenly feel brand new. 

But when you tell him yes, your eyes shining with unshed tears that match his own, he thinks that they just might have all been worth it. 

And when you tell him, for the thousandth time, that you love him, he knows that they were. 

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I am still working on sacred monsters, but I wanted to put out something cute for Heeseung's birthday and I had a big chunk of this already sitting in my drafts. I mentioned at the beginning, but this is unedited, so please forgive any little mistakes you saw.

all the love ♡

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Seven Above.” // Highly Religious Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

DD:DNE ;; Reader discretion is heavily advised.

WARNINGS: noncon & dubcon, forced breeding, forced beliefs, breeding kink, religious themes and psychopathic aemond, dark!aemond, misogynistic views, pressure to fit into the gender norms, forced pregnancy, multiple orgasms, brainwashing(?), mindfucking, + not proofread. PLEASE BE EXTREMELY MINDFUL OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS

Block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to refrain from seeing my dark works.

WC: 2.1k

A/N: fic contains dark content, do not proceed to read if you are easily triggered or find the topics mentioned above triggering. // dividers by @cafekitsune

Aemond was a man of the faith of the seven

He was extremely religious, his mother’s belief in the faith has also made him follow it, though he studied about dragons and old gods of Valyria, he didn't particularly follow them. His need for impressing his own mother, followed by his grandfather made him follow this faith more.

The only problem? He was way too religious and strict, but also hypocritical, he had shamed Aegon for being married to Helaena, but also desired her for himself, he would taunt his nephews for being bastards, yet also had one for himself with a common whore he could not remember the name of. He doesn't acknowledge them as sins however, saying that they are forgiven by the gods as he visits the sept daily.

Alicent did not know what to say, for when she would speak to him about what he's doing and points out his wrongdoings, he simply ignores her and tells her that her job as a woman isn't to judge, but rather understand and nurture, to which she couldn't argue against. So she remained silent.

Everything was going the same as usual, until Aemond was summoned by his grandfather, who had selected a proposal for him.

“The woman is Y/N of the L/N house, a woman loved by many, it will benefit us if we formed an alliance with her family, what do you think of it Aemond?” His grandfather questioned, to which Aemond nodded, saying it isn't too much of a bad match considering they had more to gain than lose, and so the proposal was quickly made.

Aemond only saw you on the day of the wedding, when your house arrived in the throne room, where Aegon sat in the middle, handling the matters. You had not shied away from looking in his eye, to which he was caught off guard by, his mind quickly realising how you are the feisty type.

The ceremony went well, Aemond refused the bedding ceremony and took you to your martial chambers before bedding you. He was gentle of course, he didn't do anything that was too painful.

One thing about Aemond is that, you should never get on his bad side, he is cruel just as he is lenient, you heard of what he had done to his own nephew, to riverrun, to the strong house, leaving absolutely no one alive from that bloodline, no woman or bastard was spared.

The first month flew by quickly, Aemond had gotten to know you better, and he quickly realised that you both don't share the same ideologies on most of the stuff, you even dared to speak back to him, to which he excused you of. Arguments with him on small things have started to happen, his opinion contradicting yours, and his refusal to understand your point of view made you extremely unaccepted, yet you still tried to convey your feelings to him, hoping somewhere deep down in your heart that he'd understand. After all, you had grown to love him a little. He was far better than any husband, most of them didn't even let their wife speak to them.

That was until the topic of children had come when you were dining together.

“Wife, Have you gotten your moon's blood yet?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, husband, it passed a few days ago and it is regular.” you tell him confused as to why he is asking this, “Are you perhaps barren?” He asks, which makes you feel shocked, and quite offended, “No! Why would you ask such a thing like that?” You ask, eyes slightly wide with shock. “Then why aren't you with child yet?” He questions as if you had any control over anything that happens after intercouse.

“It is only the second month, and besides….” You bite your lip and he raises an eyebrow, “What is it?” You sigh heavily, “I do not know how to ask of you this.” You tell him honestly, “What is it that you need wife? Dresses? Jewellery, do not be shy to ask, I am your husband after all. It is my duty to provide.” He rests his hand on yours, squeezing it in a reassuring way.

“I–” you take a deep breath, “I do not want children, at least, not yet.” you spit out.

It's almost as if everything had frozen in place, the air becomes silent with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace being heard. The tension becomes more imminent in the air as the Aemond continues to remain silent and not do anything, except directly stare at you.

His grip on your hand suddenly tightens, making you wince and you look at him pleadingly, “Have you gone mad?” He stands up, forcing you to stand up as well and you grip his arm tightly, not wanting to fall before balancing yourself, “Please- I am not yet ready, let me prepare myself mentally first.” You beg him and his other hand grabs you by your throat and pulls you closer to him, his grip on your throat begins to tighten, causing you to lose bloodflow to your head.

“I have done nothing except do my duty, be the ideal husband, provide for you, all while allowing you to express yourself yet it seems I was too lenient on you.” He growls, “Because here you are, asking me, to allow you to not have children. It is your sole duty as a wife and a woman, and you could not even provide such a thing?” He let goes of your throat, making you engulf a huge amount of air as you tried to calm down.

“Every woman is the image of the mother, she should have a natural nurturing personality towards anyone, especially to their own children, yet here you are refusing to be a mother to your own child or rather having one of yours, it is disgusting.” He says meanly and you glare at him, “I never said that I never wanted to be a mother, I asked you to give me time to which you are– hmmgh!” You are dragged by Aemond to the bed and thrown on it, you quickly lean on your elbows, fear gnawing in your stomach as you look at Aemond who seemed so furious at you, your heartbeat accelerated as he just stared down at you, like a predator staring at its prey.

“Your sin is forgiven, wife, I remembered how some women think they do not want children until they do, and then they become the best mothers and perfect wives known to man, maybe you are of that same category.” He keeps on talking, and you stare at him, confused and in fear, what in the seven hell was he talking about?

“It is no surprise if that is the case, luckily, there is a cure for that, and that is to get you pregnant, and I shall do just that, simultaneously fulfilling the duties as your husband.” He leans down and caresses your cheek. Your eyes widen when you catch his expression in the illuminating moonlight. He was smiling, yet the smile did not reach his eyes, Your stomach began to churn as goosebumps arose on your skin, he doesn't seem like the man you married anymore.

Before you could make an escape, Aemond pounces you and pushes you down onto the bed, you thrash in his hold trying to push him off but he holds your hands together and pins them up before grabbing your cheeks harshly and spitting on your face, “Behave, I'm treating you.” You began to tremble knowing he had gone completely mad.

“Let go of me! Aemond!” You scream and he pushes his hand over your mouth, “Shut the fuck up.” He tells you before grabbing your dress and tearing it off your body, the bodice coming along with it, causing your tits to spill out. He gropes and squeezes them, “I wonder how nice they'd look when they swell with milk hm?” He coos, before descending his lips onto your nipple, you use your now free hands to push him away but he doesn't budge, you try to pull him by his hair but he bites harshly onto your nipple causing you to let go of his hair in pain, he pulls away and looks at you angrily.

“Behave.” He says sternly and you flinch, never having heard Aemond use that specific tone before, it was extremely scary. “Aemond, please.” You plead him but he doesn't care, simply ripping off the remains and pushing you up the bed and prying your legs open. “You'd look so beautiful, all round with my child in your belly, I pray to the mother to bless us with a child.” He undos his breeches and your eyes widen in horror, knowing what is about to come.

You watched in silence as he lined himself against your entrance, prodding the tip at the very beginning of your hole and began to push inside, you shut your eyes tightly and clenched the sheets below you, a pained cry leaving your mouth at the stretch of your cunt by his cock, unprepared.

He soon fully sheathed himself inside you, and wastes no time before beginning to thrust, whines and gasps leave your mouth at his actions, you grip onto his shoulders as he jerks you up and down, you felt ashamed when it started to begin to feel good, your body in dilemma where you push him or pull him closer.

However that sense of choice is taken away from you when he grabs your hands and pins them above you, all while pistoning his hips into yours, “Seven above, I pray that the mother blesses my dear wife with a child in her womb so she may be cured of her sinfulness, I pray that the maiden guides her into realising how she should truly perform her duty as a woman, and may the crone remove useless thoughts and guide her to the correct path.” He prays closing his eyes and your eyes widen in pure shock, shocked by the fact on how he can pray in a situation like this?

His thrusts feel so sinful, and you're convinced you've lost your mind because of the fact that you are getting pleasure from this, his lips find yours in a passionate kiss as he ends the prayer, kissing your forehead afterwards and pulls back, “You'll make a good mother, I'm sure of it.” He coos in your ear before pressing a kiss to it as well.

You soon began to recognize the familiar feeling of a rope tightening in your abdomen, the telltale sign that your peak was nearing, Aemond's hand groped your tits, pinching your nipples and rubbing his thumb over them, providing you with additional pleasure, and before you know it, you are toppling over the edge as your peak hits you, arching your back and moaning out his name loudly.

He too finishes inside you, filling your hole with his seed, before pulling out, his face hovers over your stomach and you watch as he presses a kiss on the location of where your womb would be located, “May the mother bless us.” He mutters.

You thought that would be the end, yet you were wrong, you gasp when you feel his finger scooping up his seed which leaked out and push it back into you, essentially beginning to finger you, he takes you by surprise again when you feel his warm tongue on your clit, causing your hands to fly out and grip his hair as you breathed heavily.

His tongue and finger worked simultaneously, introducing you to a sensation of a new type of overstimulation, making you peak once again.

Time blurred together and yet Aemond did not stop, you've lost count of how many times he made you peak and how many times he finished inside you, but at the end of it, you surely felt full and fucked out, your mind filled with nothing but the thought of having his children, which he kept muttering over and over again, causing you to pick up on it.

“You'll be a great mother.” He pulls you into his arms as scoot closer, burying your face in his chest, “Yes, Husband, I'll give you as many children you want.” You mutter before finally drifting off to sleep.

Aemond smirks, knowing that he has now achieved his goal, now he can slowly start shifting you into the type of wife he wanted in the first place.

It was no surprise when you found out that you were pregnant with a child, only for you to give birth to triplets.

“A blessing from the mother.” Alicent beamed, yet that sentence only made you flinch.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

[writingmeraki]

hazy eyes, clear thoughts I

a roronoa zoro imagine !

synopsis : in which letting your drunken mouth spill your sober thoughts leads you to a very unexpected consequence. ( read: everyone saw it coming except you and **** )

pairing : opla!zoro x gn!reader, idiots to lovers!

genre : disgustingly fluffy fluff, five tablespoons of angst and probable romance.

warnings : cussing, mentions of alcohol and getting wasted, zoro kinda mean, probably terrible humour, shit ton of giggling, also very all over the place but kinda cute? not entirely proofread, also lmk if I forgot to add any other warning !

author's note : well oh well, look we have another totally not self indulgent zoro oneshot/drabble/imagine n e ways I hit a sort of weird point of the series, I'm stuck but i am like 87% done with ch 1?? i hope I'll be able to do it soon enough ^^ tysm for ur patience !! let me know what you think of this! also PART 2?!? ( I need to know if people wanna read this randomness further 😆😅🤣👍🏽)

word count : 4.8k

gif creds !

 “Oh-kay! I think that’s enough!”

You frowned when Nami took the drink from your hand, whining in protest when she kept it further away which she knew your drunken self would be unable to reach.

“B-but it’s good, it’s making me happy!” You giggled as you pointed at yourself and then pouted, pulling your manipulative tactic, one you did a lot when you wanted something especially one you did when you were shit-face drunk. 

With large doey eyes, you pleaded at her, “You don’t want me to be sad right? I’ll be sad if you don’t give me- that.” You pointed in a direction you thought she placed the beer but of course, it was way off.

“See, you can’t even make out where I’ve placed the beer! I don’t care if it makes you upset and honestly, it was fun to see you make a fool out of yourself, but now it’s just…sad.” She sighed, a tone of sympathy as she finished her sentence,

“I know why you’re drinking and it’s not a good way to distract yourself from your feelings! Drinking worsens the problem!” She scolded you to which you now felt a small anger form within you.

“Well then, how else am I supposed to get rid of this dread and just stupidity huh? Being sober is a constant reminder!” 

“Your feelings aren’t stupid! You like him, I’d say even love! You can’t just assume your feelings are invalid not until you know how the other person feels!” Your best friend felt a rage you’d feel if you saw someone you care about demean their feelings, a sort of anger at them hidden with laces of sympathy.

“He doesn’t fucking care! He only cares about his promises and that’s…that’s his life, his own…way of living so it’s fine!”

“Feelings to him are just…distractions.” You gulped as you recalled the way he replied to Luffy when the Captain was teasing him about falling in love. 

[ a few moments ago ]

“Zoro, don’t you think you should consider finding a partner, don’t you also want to fall in love and experience all the magical things that come with it?” Luffy teased as you all sat around a barrel, deciding to just hang out after a busy day. 

Zoro had a beer in one hand as he took a sip and then rolled his eyes, you’d been seeing his reaction, undoubtedly your heart picking up its pace when you heard the question. 

“I don’t need love, or call it a partner if you will. I already have enough on my plate, all that so-called magical stuff is just a distraction.” He replied, with no hesitation which left no option but for the listeners to believe his words.

Just because he’d spoken his opinion, it didn’t mean it hurt less. You knew it though, from the start that Zoro was a determined individual. Despite having his own goals, he also cared about others like Luffy even though he didn't show it much, less that he said it verbally.

It was what made you like him in the first place. After all, what’s more, better than a man who knows what he wants, is determined to get what he wants, cares for those he considers his friends, and the bonus cherry on top being he was quite easy on the eyes too. 

A whole package indeed. 

And you didn’t even know when your supposed “I admire him as a person to look up to” turned into “Oh, I think I am in love with him.” 

But ah, that’s the beauty of love and all the magical stuff, isn’t it? You never know when you’ll be the one who finally falls into it.

That’s why, after hearing his words, you felt your heart sink just a little. Screw it, you think you felt it weigh a shit ton and sink to the very pit of your stomach. 

Nami, oh Nami, what a friend she was truly, because immediately her eyes darted to you after Zoro’s words and she saw your expression go down just as quickly as Zoro downed his bottle of beer. 

Luffy chuckled, of course, he would, the poor lad was just teasing in the first place anyway to irk Zoro and obviously, he didn’t know about poor old you’s feelings. 

I think I need to go. 

It sucked how you couldn’t refute against him. How you couldn’t yell that love is not just a “distraction”, love is something that makes one feel more…human. Love is a wonderful thing and how if someone were to experience it, it makes you feel….it makes you feel just happy at being in the presence of the one you, love. Just…love is not…it’s not-

“Uh guys,” You piped up after sensing the tense atmosphere, tense to you anyway since you felt like a seashell was clogged up your throat. 

“I’m gonna go…get some fresh air. Yeah uh- I’ll be behind if you need me.” You abruptly got up, smiling tightly at Luffy, purposefully avoiding Nami’s questioning yet pitiful look and harshly blatantly ignoring how Zoro’s attention turned towards you, about to question you too, his face showing the emotions he’d not show before 5 bottles of beer. 

Sighing quietly, you picked up the drink you’d been downing, still having an adequate portion in it and you thought about it, saying fuck it as you grabbed two more from the stack that was in the middle.

“Continue with…your shenanigans,” You turned around and let your emotions finally show on your face, words repeatedly swinging in your head as you tried to filter them out. 

It’s nothing but a distraction.

And now, a few bottles (2) and a whole lot of giggling later, you may have truly begun to take Zoro’s words seriously. 

“I feel sick, perhaps it’s my heart breaking, see it hurts here the most.” You groaned as you looked out into the sea, pointing to your chest, though inaccurate as you held your right side, the sun appearing as a blurry blight light due to your vision becoming hazier as you got more drunk.

Nami sighed at you, realizing you should probably just be made to go to bed, despite it being only a few hours away from actual nightfall.

“Come on, let’s go, you’ve thought enough,” She stood up, having been sitting beside you on a barrel while you’d been sitting on the same.

She pushed her hand outwards towards you, to which you giggled and you were pretty sure your cheeks ached now. 

“Namii~how do you have-” you pointed your finger out, counting the fingers “-ten fingers! On one hand?!” You continued staring at her hand in awe as she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her face, finding your drunken self a tiny bit cute. 

Suddenly you felt your world stumble as she grabbed you and pulled you upwards, you now decided you did not know how to walk and leaned your entire body weight on her. 

Now, Nami wasn’t a weak person but considering how you were more on the taller side than her while also being a bit more buff due to the immense training you did every day to practice your own skills, you did weigh more.

She quickly made you sit back down when she realized she couldn't possibly carry you, she needed help.

"Stay here 'kay? I'll be back." She told you to which you obediently nodded, which made a genuine grin form on her face.

Maybe she did prefer drunk you who'd follow her orders with no protests.

You looked back at the sea, the sun even lower than before, a type of golden shining on the blues that reminded you of a certain someone's earrings and oh, there it was.

Your thoughts slowly getting consumed by the moss head who despite drinking so much to forget was so embedded deep into your memory and probably heart at this point that even the slightest similarity you saw, be it colors or flowers, reminded you of him. 

Ah, that's love and all its magical stuff am I right? 

Sighing, she made her way back to where the rest of them were, the crew picking up on her presence,

"Where's Y/N? Weren't you bringing them?" 

"Well, for one they are SHIT face drunk, I don't think they are even conscious of where they are right now so I'll need to take them to bed but also, I can't carry them alone." 

She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of drowning yourself in your feelings, quite literally but she knew she wouldn't complain to the rest of them or more so she couldn't.

"Well I'm sure, one of us can help-"

"I'll help you carry them." Zoro interrupted your captain who was just about to suggest him. If there was one who could probably carry anything heavy too, it was him of course. 

Nami eyed him curiously, she did know he wasn't ready to do…kind deeds, not unless it helped him in some way. Though, she thinks, you may just be an exception.

He stood up and walked towards where you were, which was at the back, Nami followed suit to which he turned towards her.

"It's alright if you don't come, I'm pretty sure I'll be able to carry them myself." He said it and Nami narrowed her eyes, half out of suspicion and half out of spite after hearing the cocky undertone to his words. 

Proving that was one corner of his lips being turned upwards, forming an annoyingly handsome smirk that if you saw it, you'd probably be more on the brink of absolutely losing it.

"Take care of them and if they are hurt-" Zoro rolled his eyes at the over-exaggeration, and Nami knew that but as your best friend and a platonic soulmate at this point, she felt she had to say something. 

"I don't mean it that way, you know damn well what I mean." She told firmly, to which a slight confusion did flash in Zoro's eyes but he didn't make it obvious as he glared at her, ready to bicker.

"Nami!" Luckily, Luffy's timing seemed impeccable as he called her, to which she turned around, allowing no further talk.

Zoro just brushed off her words and moved to where you were.

Despite, Zoro admitting to never wanting a partner, it didn't mean though, that he didn't feel. 

He cared. He cared enough for Luffy to stick with him. He cared enough to fulfill a promise. 

And he cared for you too as he saw you sleeping soundly, laying your head on the ship, using your hands as a makeshift pillow. 

And yet, he somehow knew it was different. It was different from how he cared for others. 

He gulped as he moved closer, now being able to see your features being highlighted by the afterglow of the sun setting. 

It was as though you were the sun's favorite child at the moment, touching parts of your face softly, careful enough to not awaken you yet enough to rest on it to make it golden. 

The evening breeze couldn't have picked a better time to pass as strands of your hair messily moved, your face scrunching up in disturbance. 

He didn't even perceive how he'd reached you and was actually touching strands of your hair to push them back in place so as to not disturb your sleep. 

He wasn't even a gentle person, but he was using soft fingers with even softer touches to push them back. 

He figured he should in fact take you back to your bed, well shared bed with Nami. 

Deciding there was no need to wake you up, he moved beside you, putting one arm underneath your knees while the other looped just above your waist and below your chest. 

You blinked open your eyes when you felt yourself floating, it seemed like you were floating for a brief second, engulfed by warm clouds and a nice pillow that was-

You looked up and saw the side profile of someone. 

They seemed familiar. 

A glint of gold caught your eye as you put your left arm up and poked the earring, giggling as you saw it move.

"Wow, pretty," You think you'd seen it but your eyes being hazier than before after your mini nap seemed to only make your vision more blurry.

The sudden exhale and whisper down his neck almost made Zoro trip as he didn't really expect you to be up.

He was just near your shared room.

"Where are you taking me? Who are you?" You asked the important questions now, your mushed brain being able to form somewhat coherent thoughts. 

"You- you don't know who I am?" He asked you, confusion in his features and then remembering why you were lost. 

Right, practically wasted. And apparently memory loss due to being wasted.

He pushed the door open, as flimsy as it was, careful to not eventually break it down.

You looked around your surroundings, now even more lost as to where you actually were.

You squealed as he let you down, immediately realizing it was a terrible idea when you almost toppled over, unable to hold your own weight as he pushed his arm around your waist.

You held onto the man's shirt as you tried not to trip and fall.

"Here I'll just- I'll get you to bed." He guided you towards your bed, hand still wrapped around your waist as he looped yours over his neck. 

You plopped down with your eyes shut, your head began spinning when you almost tripped and you groaned in regret.

"Drinking too much was such a bad idea, like all my decisions lately." You put your hand on your forehead as you tried to rub the forming headache away. 

Hearing a walking sound, you peered your eyes open. Half-open anyways as you still couldn't make out well anything.

You could see the supposed stranger who'd help you till your bed was going to turn around and likely go but at that moment, you decided you didn't really want to be…alone.

Grabbing his hand before he moved away, you pulled him back with all your force. It didn't phase his movements much though other than him halting. 

Zoro turned back to you after deciding he should probably leave before he either said something he'd regret or worse, did something he'd regret. 

It wasn't his fault though with how…cute you looked as you plopped down, making him want to ki-

"Stay…please." You whispered to him, still holding onto his wrist as you blinked at him.

A familiar green color sat on top of his head but you figured it was a common color despite being sober you absolutely made fun of it when you could about how uncommon it was but also whined about how unfairly good it looked on him. 

The same him who looked at you in confusion and disbelief,

"You want me to stay, right now? With you?"

“Of course! I feel quite alone right now, maybe the company will make me feel better here.” You let go of his arm, the loss of your colder hand in contrast to his warm skin making him slightly frown. 

You pointed at your chest, surprisingly getting it right this time by pointing toward your left side.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Does your chest hurt or something?” 

There was a slight concern in his tone, one which made you giggle. 

“Not- not physically silly, it’s- it’s my heart, it feels like it’s been gutted- wait no too- too gruesome, it feels like someone just punched it and it broke.” As you blubbered about your heartbroken state, your words made him more curious and concerned.

He decided he should probably hear you out, after all despite not being a great talker, he’d consider himself a decent listener. 

Grabbing the barrel you used as a chair placed under your makeshift desk, he moved to sit beside your bed. 

“It’s ridiculous. I should have known there was no chance, but it isn’t like you get a choice sometimes on how you should feel about someone, it just…happens.” You spoke softly, as Zoro turned his attention toward you, wondering who was this person who’d caused you to feel so…sad. 

He didn’t realize it but he felt a slow anger build up, one he excused as frustration due to your mumbling but not one out of simply, probably, jealousy.

Yes, he was jealous of….this person because it sure as hell seemed as though you were deeply in love to have been feeling like this. 

Ironic.

“Why do I even like him?” Oh, he definitely did not want to hear you talk about him, he decided.

Screw being a good listener, he was already in a crisis when Luffy put him on the spot asking about whether he’d want a lover or not, and then him trying his best not to divert his gaze towards you, so instead he chose an option ( one he’d regret later on ) and gave a seemingly believable answer. 

Maybe a while ago, he’d have stuck to that answer, and actually no, he was sticking to it, quite well too.

That was until you stumbled onto the crew or more like in true Luffy fashion, were persuaded enough to stay. 

At first, he didn’t care enough. It was more so he didn’t particularly like you too. You were what he was not. Careless, overly enthusiastic at times, and way too optimistic for your own good. You looked to see the good in everyone, believing that there was always some sort of goodness in everyone.

Zoro found that stupid, knowing how reality was always different. Everyone is and will always be selfish for their own greed. He was too, he wanted to fulfill his promise and that was it. 

That was his goal and nothing else really mattered to him.

It’s what he thought would remain the same till he accomplished it but a sudden diversion came in the form of well…you.

He didn’t even realize it but the annoyance he’d get when he heard your lame jokes turned into him looking away from your silly smile to try and hide his own forming grin.

How he’d always automatically be looking for you if they’d stop at an island, choosing to follow you and dismissing Nami’s suspicious glances by saying you’d likely do something stupid that might put everyone in danger if left alone.

It was funny what this could make anyone feel. He didn’t ever feel like this, he didn’t even want to admit he was close to feeling but how long could a person remain in denial?

He was in love with you. 

He couldn’t simply excuse his heart racing at your presence as simply annoyance, he couldn’t excuse finding pretty flowers and them reminding him of you as well….yeah you get the point. 

That revelation honestly made him spiral into a sort of existential crisis. 

So he decided it was best to do one thing.

Ignore it. Ignore everything and simply wait until it all fades away. 

But silly him, he didn’t know one thing about love and he assumed it was something that fades away, yet there it was, in his gaze as it softened and in his heart as it sunk slowly like an anchor. 

Clogging his throat as if he couldn’t simply breathe when you admitted to being in love with someone, someone who wasn’t him.

Ah love and its magical stuff, yet why does he feel like it's more of a curse right now? 

He opened his mouth, and closed it again, resembling a fish and it felt like he wanted to say everything yet nothing.

They probably don’t deserve you. 

The thought resonated in his head, but really who was he to say so because did someone like you even deserve him?

Turning to face him completely, ducking your hand under your head, you blinked at him slowly, a grin forming on your face as you saw the stranger’s hair.

“You…you remind me of him, your hair, it’s that ugly color.” You softly giggled to which Zoro was left in yet a contradiction of emotions, whether or not he should feel offended or light over the sound of your soft giggles. 

Wait. 

“Come closer, I’ll tell you a secret.” He blinked at you, trying not to show any emotions and wondering if you’d ever even talk to him like this sober.

Deciding to follow what you said, something he’d never do if you were sober, he leaned in, putting one arm as support to hold him due to the slightly uncomfortable position. 

“I- don’t laugh at me first of all, it’s ridiculous, Nami says I’m being too much of a coward not saying it upfront.” You looked at him to which he nodded, in your mind you presumed it was reassurance and agreeing to not find you ridiculous.

Somehow, despite you not knowing who was in front of you, your heart was picking up in pace and you felt a slight nervousness, actually, you almost felt like throwing up.

As if you were just about to actually…

“I think, actually no, I am definitely in love with Zoro.”

…confess to Zoro. 

Good thing, Zoro had quick reflexes because he felt his arm slip and if it weren’t for those quick reflexes, he’d have fallen face-first into the ground. He sat up straighter as if what he heard had physically burned him. 

“It sounds ridiculous, falling in love with someone like him but he’s actually a very loveable person, at least once he begins to get more…more comfortable around you. He talks less, shows emotions or any reactions even less, always carrying around a bitch face- Nami says so- but-but he also cares through his actions like-like that one time he found Luffy’s straw hat when he thought he lost- he spent hours helping him look for it and trying to keep Luffy from crying and then, then this other time he stayed up all night when I got hurt and wasn’t able to sleep. And-and there’s sooo many other times he’s done, the small things, he cares for that.”

“You know. I think that was when I knew I loved him.  When he didn’t need to stay up, yet he did to make sure I didn’t die or something.” You finished with a soft giggle as memories of that day flashed in front of your closed eyes. 

Suddenly he felt way warmer than the room was. 

“I know, I know you’ll…you’ll call me stupid for loving someone who’s already in fact rejected me, not-not to my face of course but indirectly I suppose.”

Wait, what?

Rejected you?

How could he do that when- when he didn’t-

“I hate this! I hate the way I feel, it- it’s making me feel pathetic.” Your words slurred as you whined, using your makeshift pillow to groan into.

“Who said love is magical? It’s pathetic! It makes you stupid enough to have stupid hopes that only make you fly high until suddenly the actual reality crashes you down hard.” You spoke somberly, your words slowly fading out as you gave into the alcohol-induced sleep.

“Love is…pathetic. But- but I love him. So much. I love…you.” The last word came out as a hush as you exhaled, shutting your eyes and letting go of the pillow as you finally got knocked out. 

It pained him to see you call yourself pathetic…all while being the reason you felt that way. 

Zoro was conflicted. The contradiction of emotions making him all do,

Nothing. 

He was frozen. He couldn't say a word, couldn't raise his hand to rub your back to perhaps comfort you. 

His mind was in more chaos, your words replaying like a loop. 

And finally, he came to a conclusion.

I need a drink. Fuck, maybe even three. 

Perhaps if you were awake, it’d be a different reaction. Perhaps if you weren’t drunk, you’d have not said it. 

The idea of you then getting over him, probably because you’d think he rejected you indirectly due to his words. This left a more bitter aftertaste in his mouth and mind than the beer he just downed.

He left your side, deciding he needed a breather to process what he’d just been told. He made sure you’d be in a comfortable position, placing your arms to your sides and even draped a sad excuse of a blanket, one that you brought yourself of an old woman when you had stopped at an island and one you loved, sad excuse because it was very thin but apparently you couldn’t sleep without it. 

He had turned back to you, one more time, about to say something but he just sighed and turned around, walking away to where he was now. 

Now, almost halfway through the crate of beers, he still couldn’t get rid of the confusion. 

Did- did you mean it?

It was conflicting because for one you said it under the influence, maybe you’d even meant someone else and just said his name by mistake. He hated that, so he chose to focus on you saying it solely for him. 

“Why-just why are you trying to die of alcohol poisoning? What is up with you idiots drinking like maniacs today?” A voice said in both disgust and concern as she walked up beside him, facing the sea, and then looking at him, the concern being evident as she saw the conflict of emotions on his face.

She knew he wasn’t one to speak up, it was rather his body language and eyes that spoke what he felt. 

He just sighed, taking a smaller sip of the drink, placing both arms on the side of the ship, and observing the waves.

Nami truly wondered what could have happened until she realized. 

“Did something happen with Y/N?” She cooly asked, observing his expression and surely enough a change of emotion was seen with the way he suddenly stiffened up.

“Nothing remarkable–”

“Oh cut the crap Zoro, you look like someone stole your fucking swords and threw them into the sea.” 

Now he turned towards her, a slight look of horror while he narrowed his eyes at her,

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Won’t deny anything. But, don’t change the topic.”

“They told’ you something?” She figured she should just straight up ask it, put it out in the blue, out of the bad.

Zoro contemplated whether he should spill it, feeling like maybe it would be invading your privacy but even if he didn’t want to admit it, he needed some sort of advice. 

“They- uh told me they lo- well see-” He shifted his attention back to the sea, finding it hard to say it to her face without giving away much. 

Technically you confessed but also you didn’t? You ranted about being in love with Zoro and how you wished you didn’t, you did that thinking you were spilling it to a stranger but it was the man himself so is that a confession? 

“So they finally did it?” He turned towards her raising his eyebrows in question, “They confessed?” 

Now he was surprised but how accurate she was, “ They are too coward- no offense- to do it while sober so ‘figured from the way you look like” She pointed towards his face with her finger “They either kissed you, which doesn’t seem evident from your face not being smothered with lipgloss, they confessed.” 

He gulped from his active imagination flashing a picture of you kissing him and how-

“But why are you so freaked out then? Shouldn’t you be happy your silly little crush is mutual?”

“It wasn’t a confession. More like a rant, they thought I was someone else and they basically spewed it all, and wait what do you mean mutual- I don’t uh-”

“Oh don't give that bullshit now. I know- in fact, even a blind person could see how in love you are with them.” 

Zoro didn’t know whether to get offended or embarrassed if it were really that obvious. He exhaled heavily, clearly not satisfied with the situation still. 

“What if they don’t even remember? What if they begin to ignore me because they think I don’t like them?” 

“Well you did say you weren’t looking for a partner or so on, did you forget that idiot?” Nami shook her head as she rolled her eyes at him.

“I-well- It wasn’t intentional! I panicked!”

“And now this is your consequence. Though there’s a simple solution to this crisis which isn’t a crisis actually, it’s pretty straightforward.”

Now he was curious, a way to solve this whole catastrophe? 

“Since you think they’ll forget by morning, how about you confront them then?”

“In the morning, you clear out your feelings before you dumbasses end up avoiding each other to purposefully brush this aside and I swear! I swear if it gets awkward because you both won’t look past your egos, I’ll force you into the damn cabin and lock you there to talk.”

Nam smiled sweetly, yet a threat underlined beneath her final words and Zoro thought of the only thing he should do now.

“Fine then.”

“I’ll talk. I’ll…confess to everything.”

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

feedback is always appreciated 💗

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[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi! Hope you had a good vacation, when your free can I ask for teen!reader doing a pregnancy prank on the ror family. For Adam, Eve, Aphrodite, Loki, Hades, Shiva, and Odin? You else if you want.

-You were sick and tired of Loki constantly pranking you, even when you asked him to stop, almost to the point of tears, but he just saw it as good fun and always told you that he never meant any harm.

-Other members of your family were more on Loki’s side, as he wasn’t doing anything to hurt you, just things like water balloons or glitter bombs, but when those water balloons hit the homework you had been working on for the last two hours and now you had to redo it, you were the only one who wasn’t laughing.

-You had seen this trend on the internet, and you decided that you were going to play a prank that wasn’t so funny on those who had been telling you to laugh off the pranks.

-You bought the fake pregnancy test at a joke shop, one Loki took you to frequently as he wanted your opinions on what to get to prank someone else with, before leaving it on the bathroom sink after getting rid of the evidence of where it came from.

-You only had to wait for about ten minutes before you heard Hades roar out your name, “Y/N!!!” you snickered into your hand, thinking this was going to be hilarious.

-Two minutes later you found yourself on the couch with Adam, Eve, Shiva, Hades, Odin, Loki, and Aphrodite all freaking out around you, panicking as they had found your pregnancy test. Eve was in tears, hugging you close, telling you that you all were going to get through this together.

-Odin, Adam, and Hades were forming a momentary truce, planning on hunting down the guy that had touched you, Adam turning on you with fire in his eyes, “Who was it Y/N? I want his name!!”

-Aphrodite was taking it too well, holding your hand, “Ooh we’ll have to go shopping and get you cute clothes and go baby shopping as well!” many were quickly yelling at her that she wasn’t helping and this wasn’t a moment of celebration at the moment, this was a moment of panic!!

-Loki and Shiva were preparing to join in the beat down, absolutely furious that someone touched their teenaged daughter in such a way. Loki was panicking, holding your hands in his, “Did he force you Y/N? If he forced you, we’ll make sure he pays!”

-You couldn’t keep up the charade any longer and you instantly snorted and started to laugh, shocking all of them before many of them were quickly glaring at you as you wiped a tear from your eye.

-Odin looked furious but you weren’t scared, as you were teaching them a lesson, “So this was a prank?” you nodded your head, “Yes- but it was funny, right? You should just laugh it off!”

-Hearing the words they always tell you when Loki pranks you when you come to them, many were angry, but also relieved that you weren’t pregnant, Eve hugging you again as Shiva spoke, “Why did you do that to us?”

-You gave your own slight glare, “Because none of you were listening to me about the pranks. I’m all for Loki’s pranks, but when he throws water balloons at me and ruins my homework that I’ve spent hours doing then have to redo- it’s not funny to me!”

-Many of them paused, now feeling a bit guilty, especially Loki when you continued, “And when I bring this up and you all tell me just to laugh it off- you’re not the ones who have to redo my homework!”

-Adam sighed deeply, glad that you weren’t pregnant, and you didn’t get into trouble for your own prank, as you needed them to see what they were doing to you.

-Loki apologized and you hugged him close, letting him cuddle you, “That doesn’t mean I want you to stop pulling pranks, I just want you to leave my homework out of it.” He promised he would make sure to not bother it, as Odin threatened him that he would have to redo your homework.

-Aphrodite was the only one who was disappointed that you weren’t pregnant, as she wanted to cuddle with a baby but after getting yelled at that you were too young, she relented and took you out shopping anyway, to have some retail therapy.

[yazthebookish]

I absolutely get some readers not liking the potential of Az and Gwyn or even not wanting it to happen because they root for another couple which is absolutely valid. We let off a lot of steam in the past two years but I think we're at a stage where each side should mind their own business.

But this is also a post for the pro-Gwynriel crowd so if that's not your cup of tea, ignore this post. I'm not responsible for you getting upset over reading something you know you won't be happy with.

Disclaimer: I wrote this post based on my own interpretation of the text and the opinion I formed.

Like I said, I absolutely get why some don't see it or won't like it but I do get puzzled as to why when people explain why they see it's potential, it's immediately shot down.

My number one question would be: from a narrative perspective, why would SJM introduce a new female character and place her within Az's circle when there is that whole Elain and Mor thing going on? She absolutely did not need to do that. She did anyways. Whether you think it's platonic or romantic, the book does shift a little focus on Gwyn and Az in some scenes where they are present.

First, let's talk about their history. So it's pointed out that Az is the first person to reach Sangravah and he was the one to save Gwyn. I'm not saying a romance sparked there and it has nothing to do with romance at that stage but it is part of their history. Sarah could've said it's Rhys, it's Cassian, it's Mor, but it's mentioned multiple times that it's Az who saved Gwyn.

We also have the Valkyrie subplot, it's not only Cassian, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie that are involved in it but Az is part of it too. Az is brought in to train other group of priestesses since Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie are under Cassian's charge—but what does eventually happen? we start to notice in some of the scenes that there are subtle or not so subtle attention to how Az or Gwyn observe or react to each other. He even trains her personally and I assume on their own at one point.

“Gwyn let out a high-pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half-turned at the sound, brows high.”

One example is this, was this something necessary for the reader to make note of? did we need to know that Az, who was occupied with the other priestesses, turned at the sound of Gwyn squealing from the other side of the ring with an amused expression? this is one of the examples of how the narrative makes sure the reader makes note of this. The argument is not whether it's romantic or not, but these reactions are pointed out to the reader in particular.

So back to the Valkyrie subplot, Az is part of that but not only that, he actively had a part in training Gwyn. Not Nesta, not Emerie, but Gwyn. Why establish that between them? Why make him play a part in her becoming a Valkyrie? That to me is also another connection SJM established between them.

We could have gone the entire book without Az being involved in any of this. But SJM chose to have him involved with the Valkyries' training and Gwyn's in particular, especially knowing that the ending of ACOSF tells us not only Cassian but also Az will continue to train them. He will still be in close proximity with Gwyn and co.

No matter how many times I reread the book it's clear to me that there is a set up. It made me think they're compatible for each other in the way they both are lightly bantering and challenging each other. It did create a potential future for both of them where they develop romantic feelings for each other and I definitely would rather see that happen on page—given that the two females Az have feelings for were abrupt in a way (especially for Elain) and to me there is no organic development to it. He fixated on certain things that seems might make him feel worthy of someone, but they also feed into his self-loath. I think the idea of 3 sisters and 3 brothers reinforced that because like I have said before, it would've been more romantic for me to see him accept Elain with or without her bond to Lucien rather than resent and question it. Because him accepting it makes me think he wants her for her and a bond to another male won't stop him from being with her, but he does make a big deal out of it even though neither Elain or Lucien acted on it so there isn't someone in his way stopping him from being with her (pre-Rhys pulling rank) because he knows Elain has no interest in Lucien (to him).

SJM could have absolutely make Az form no connection or have any sort of interaction with Gwyn the same way he was indifferent and never spoke to Emerie. But that's not what we got so let's talk about the elephant in the room: his bonus chapter.

This is something I've always said, why add Gwyn? the chapter personally confirmed to me the crumbs I picked up on while reading ACOSF and noticing how the narrative shifts my attention sometimes towards Az and Gwyn. Not that there aren't any for Elain and Az, but as I said the bonus chapter confirmed to me what likely Az's storyline is going to involve and focus on.

Theories aside, reading the bonus chapter for what it is and moving past that sad but also miserable first part and finding Gwyn there with her part, it was a breath of fresh air. The wording and Az's emotions during her part made them much more appealing to me because their interaction started out awkward, and then sweet and more light-hearted. She gives him an out he does not take, she smiles at his shadows, his shadows feel calm and content to watch her, the mating bond language (which parallels other mated couples), him going from being frustrated and pissed to him laughing and feeling settled down at the end of his scene with her.

One major thing we got was: he sings. Why does that matter? because she also sings. Theories aside, there is a similarity there that was not needed to be made. But the author made it.

Also, out of all the characters we get after her scene, it's Clotho who shows up. And who is Clotho? Gwyn's guardian in a way. We all agree the necklace move was not a great one but that ending to me had a light romantic coding (theories aside).

Clotho's pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason... he could see it.  

But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly.

A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

What started as a depressing and hopeless chapter for Az ended with a beautiful hopeful ending. It ended with him thinking about Gwyn's joy and burying that image deep in his chest where it glows quietly.

To add, Gwyn is the only character in the entire series from what I've read where Az's shadows reactions to her specifically are totally unique. Interpretations of this will differ, but it's there. Why go as far as to make them unique to her?

I will say this again that I'm okay with people not seeing the hints or not liking it, but I do wonder sometimes even when readers highlight all of this (which, everything I mentioned here is from the books) it's met with so much resistance to the point people's reading comprehension is questioned. There is always room for different interpretations, not liking one does not invalidate it and this is something I also try to personally remind myself of.

But my question will always be: why did Sarah have to place Gwyn within Az's circle? even if your answer is they'll probably be platonic it means I'm correct in saying that the narrative did truly establish a connection between Az and Gwyn in ACOSF and his chapter whether they'll be a romantic pairing or platonic friends. There is something there.

[dorianwolfforest]

So I was given this response by a dev about the AI thing who I have since blocked, primarily for what I'm about to talk about in this post.

I want to talk about your right to absolutely be critical, mean, negative and angry about star stable online if you want to, and why that in no way, shape, or form is "harassment".

There's this saying in bookworld, "no authors in review spaces, reviews are for readers". Its intention is to say that, no matter how much you as an author want to know how people are reacting to your book, you do not go chasing down reviews because they're not meant as a learning opportunity for you, they're meant to let others know more about your product. You do not watch videos reviewing your book. You do not read through your goodreads. You do not intentionally seek out the two or one star reviews. You are, however, encouraged to find a friend who can look through the reviews for you, find positive or constructive ones, and give them to you.

If you want to learn how to improve for your next book, you make use of the beta readers. You make use of the sensitivity readers. You make use of the editors. There is nothing a review can say that will help you, because the book the review belongs to has already been written.

In a similar vein, I do not believe developers should involve themselves in fandom spaces. Yes, I will be overjoyed at an Ismael tweet, because that is Ismael's own space. That's his world. That's his presence, he's allowed to exist online if he wants to and Ismael is still allowed to talk about SSO on his account like how authors are allowed to talk about their books, because he does not go chasing down sso neg about his own work, the server upkeep. I, as the "reviewer", do not go into his tweet replies and let him know how much I hate the most recent quests or how bad a horse breed is (much like how I, if I don't like a book, don't go on twitter and tag the author to tell them that their book sucks). I save that for my space, the reviewer space. SSOblr, in this instance.

In our own space, as reviewers, we are allowed to be critical and negative about the product we consume, because we understand that it's about the work, not the people behind it. In many instances, we don't even know who the person behind what we're critiquing is. There is also the assumption, the hope, that the person will never see it, because developers, like authors, shouldn't hunt down reviews of their work, and if they do find something that is critical, it should be a standard that they either ignore it, or read it but don't respond to it.

We've had a grown woman on this platform beef with and publicly call out a teenager for expressing the opinion that the quests she made weren't good, with the justification that the review was "hurtful". Plenty of reviews have the potential to be hurtful, it comes with the profession. That's why you don't read them. Even then, no one who expresses critical thoughts does so specifically to upset or hurt the person behind the work, far from it. That's why we stick to our tiny individual corners of the internet and don't chase you down to tell you our opinion.

Within Star Stable Entertainment, the friends an author might use to collect positive and constructive reviews are your support team (which, unfortunately, isn't all that great. Hooray for being told to overlook antisemitism) and social media accounts. All you need to know about how people react to you and your work should be filtered through them.

If the person who used AI art feels targeted and harassed, that is on them. We didn't know it was even one single person who did it, you as a company singled them out to us so that we'd stop blaming you as a whole. Furthermore we don't know who it is, we physically cannot harass them. Who do we tag? who do we send messages to in order to harass them? No one. They would need to go on SSOblr and look through the tag after a massive controversy caused by them, purposefully searching for outrage. That's not on us.

You are fully within your right to have public opinions about the content you consume, and if a developer oversteps the creator/reviewer boundary you are not the one who should be apologizing.

[gulnarsultan]

*a deep breath* imagine,

The Queen's elder sister was sitting in an easy armchair, and a tall candlestick stood next to her in order, to illuminate the letters on the pages. She has already read this book a million times, but she is ready to read it so many times, until she gets hoarse.

-And after that, the terrible monster roared in pain and raised his ugly, bony hand and "Oh, I don't know what to do... If Aegon sits on the throne, there will be a war, at least, and the boy himself does not want to be on the throne..." But being the strongest hero of his settlement, the young "Although, on the other hand, maybe it will wean him off... No, it's too much. Aemond, is also thinking about the throne..." Their fight lasted until the night, until the cold moonlight flooded the whole field, and even after that, "Aemond would have made a good King... But Aegon is no worse... And if the Princess becomes..." - And then there was a loud crack.

It is not the first time for Lady Y/n to read a familiar text and think about her own at the same time, but she was so immersed in her thoughts, that this sudden sound made even her shudder. The evil Lady hugged her youngest nephew tightly to her, sitting on her lap, for whom this fairy tale, read to the holes, sounded.

Everyone in the hall turned to the source of the noise. One of the children of Princess Rhaenyra was standing near the fireplace, and at his feet lay the fragments of a modest, but beautiful flower pot. The young man was tense. Following the young Prince's back with her gaze, the royal aunt saw how the small crown of a weak tree, which she had been caring for for many months, was burning beautifully in a large fireplace. The Queen's elder sister swallowed the heavy lump, formed in her throat, with difficulty. Daeron, sitting on her lap, fidgeted uneasily. The Queen's daughter looked at her aunt with pity. The eldest son of the Queen, darted his gaze first to his aunt, then to his nephew. And the one-eyed Prince stared intently at the culprit of the incident. When the evil Lady opened her mouth, the mother of the culprit of the incident, almost jumped to her feet, but Lady only made a quiet and empty: - oh... - And continued to read the fairy tale to her nephew.

Even Princess Helaena sulkily scowled at her nephew. Prince Aegon raised his eyebrows questioningly, looking at him, and Prince Aemond continued to drill him with his gaze. The spacious room became terribly crowded.

While the Lady Aunt continued to read, the young Prince made a tired sound. When asked by his aunt, if he was tired, the Prince nodded affirmatively.

-Then, let's go to bed, my soul. - Y/n released the Prince from her arms and, getting up, went to his mother, but Daeron pulled her to the doors. - Should I come with you? - The Prince actively nodded his head affirmatively. - Well then, as you say, my Prince.

The rest of the Alicent children got up from their seats, to wish their younger brother a good night, as their aunt had taught them. Even if these royal children did not love each other as much, as Y/n wanted, but for her sake, they were kind to each other. The next morning, Aemond will ask his younger brother, if auntie was upset about yesterday?

-Yes, she was very upset. But she said, he didn't do it on purpose, so it's fine.

-What if he did it intentionally? - The eldest Prince pressed himself against the door frame. - He knew, everyone knew, - Aegon knocked on the castle wall, - how Aunt Y/n was hard nursing this damn tree... Was she really very upset? - The Younger Prince nodded in the affirmative. The Princess did not listen to the rest of this conversation. She went straight to her aunt, hoping, that her new embroidery, depicting a butterfly on a lily flower, would comfort her aunt Y/n.

Helaena is preparing a beautiful gift for her aunt. Aegon and Aemond are very angry with their nephew. In their opinion, their nephew deliberately destroyed the plant. I don't think the aunt reader holds a grudge against the plant.

[linkspooky]

Bungo Stray Dogs, Chapter 105 Thoughts

Akutagawa once again proves himself to be the one who knows Atsushi the best. Even when he’s just a hallucination inside Atsushi’s head. (I kid, I kid). The advice Akutagawa gives though is not only incredibly telling of one of Atsushi’s greatest character flaws and the reason he shows so much indecision in this recent arc, but also the key to overcoming it. In short Atsushi is always stuck inside of his own head, and his head is a scary place. We can talk more about it underneath the cut. 

1. I Need An Adult

Atsushi is no longer hallucinating the headmaster telling him what to do, in their place is each member of the detective agency. 

What’s most telling about these words is none of them necessarily have negative connotations. Kyouka said something along the lines of You don’t have to do anything to Atsushi in Dead Apple, but only because she was trying to protect him from harm at the time. Kunikida’s words can be taken as a sign of determination. Ranpo is that condescending with everyone. However, to Atsushi they may as well be looking down on him or belittling him, because Atsushi bases his entire ego and self image on how other people perceive him. 

This unhealthy fixation on other people’s opinions on him means that it’s not really about what any of these three individuals mean from their words, but rather how Atsushi perceives them. You can’t base your self image around what other people think, and still have a strong sense of self, because humans are not mind readers. Atsushi especially, is not good at reading people or their feelings. He doesn’t understand that Kyoka is just trying to protect him, that Kunikida wants to motivate him, that Ranpo does not mean to insult him. He can’t see those things because Atsushi does not really have a stable enough sense of self to believe these people even can have such positive feelings towards them. He’s almost looing for the most negative interpretation in their statement possible, because he’s eternally waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

When I say sense of self, I mean Atsushi’s ego, his thoughts and feelings, his wants, his desires, his morals, etc. etc. These are all things that make up identity. if Atsushi were confident in himself, he would be able to interpret the feelings of Kyoka, Kunikida, Ranpo and also the detective agency as a whole with more nuance. After all, if you know who you are, you don’t let other people tell you who they think you are. 

Our sense of our selves are formed in our developmental years. When we are young, we learn about things like boundaries, how to treat other people, and how we should be treated, but Atsushi spent most of those formative years being deprived in a horrific fashion. 

As noted in the textbook, Essentials of Life-Span Development, attachment is "a close emotional bond between two people." Relationships play a key role in healthy human development and influence multiple aspects of the individual's life. A person's style of attachment can help predict their likelihood to develop healthy relationships and help identify obstacles they will have to overcome to achieve this outcome

Atsushi says he has no sense of self almost word for word. When he had no one to  interact with, he did not know who he was. Except, Atsushi was not completely deprived of interactions back then. He had one person who not only dictated every aspect of his life, but also tried to teach him some form of morality. 

Of course Atsushi’s tragic backstory is well tread ground, but it’s important to remember if relationships are what define who you are, Atsushi went from age one to age eighteen with no relationships with children his own age, and the only human being he regularly interacted with being someone who would occasionally help him, but at other times cage him up, and order him to harm himself. Not only does this traumatize Atsushi, it also incorrectly models for him what human relationships are supposed to be like. 

Atsushi does not just want to please the director to get his ghost out of his head, he’s haunted by the director because he thinks at any moment, if he doesn’t please the people around him his relationships can turn into that. If he is not useful enough he will either be (1) mistreated or (2) abandoned. When an abusive attachment is literally the only relationship you’ve ever learned, then it takes a lot to unlearn that, something Atsushi has not really done even after moving to a much safer and healthier environment. 

Why does Atsushi base his entire sense of self around what others, think? 

It’s because that is what he was taught to do. He was raised more or less by a man who dictated every aspect of his life, who made Atsushi think it was his job as a child to please him. 

This gives Atsushi the double whammy of issues of crippingly low self esteem, but also the expectation he must continually please the people around him in order to keep them. Which is why the implication that he might have disappointed Kunikida, Kyouka, or Ranpo is so devastating to him because this is confirmation to him that he is doing something wrong, that there is something wrong with him. 

Atsushi on one end realizes how barbaric the Headmaster was in his treatment of him, on the other hand he internalized more or less everything the HeadMaster said so is caught in the behavior loop of thinking he was still the one who did something wrong by not pleasing him. 

If anything you could say that Atsushi clings to what the Headmaster taught him, after getting out of the orphanage, even after he’s dead, because Atsushi had literally nothing else, and no other source of guidance. Children can’t grow up in the dark all alone after all. The headmaster at least tried to teach him something, unlike his birth parents who abandoned him, or everyone else at the orphanage who treated him like he didn’t exist. 

It’s not even really the headmaster that Atsushi clings to, because Atsushi does acknowledge his barbarism more than once. It’s a fantasy version Atsushi conjured up in his head. A teacher who would have praised him and acted like a proper adult if he had just done the right thing. 

Atsushi craves the adult he should have had, and deserved to have. An adult who raised him with care, and guided him, rather than one who continually punished him with violence. The problem is that Atsushi is essentially, already an adult now and never really had that. Rather than coping with the reality of that, he keeps trying to get someone else to be that adult he needs them to be. 

Atsushi has absolutely no trust or faith in himself, so he keeps seeking out someone else to tell him what he is supposed to do. Other meta writers have pointed this out, but Dazai’s contact with Atsushi has been very minimal this arc and yet when Atsushi is in a crisis situation he continually imagines the ghost of Dazai showing up to tell him what to do. 

Unless Dazai has some secret psychic powers no one told us about (which I doubt) then at these points Dazai is actually doing nothing, it’s Atsushi himself who is figuring things out, or helping himself along. Atsushi’s not a Ranpo level genius, but he’s not unintelligent. At this moment when everything looks lost after dropping Sigma, Atsushi is able to figure out the location of the page with just the information Sigma gave him.

It’s unclear how much of that was Sigma giving him information, but Atsushi figured out the next thing they all needed to do entirely on his own, stepping out of necessity and showing he can do these things. Atsushi is capable of using both deduction and problem solving, almost like he’s some kind of detective. 

The problem has never been Atsushi is useless or incompetent, but rather he has no confidence in the abilities that he does have. Atsushi is unable to take a serious look at himself. His failures and his habit of freezing up start precisely when he is fighting against Fukuchi, and the central reason why him and Akutagawa failed during that fight was because they both treid too much to be like their mentors. 

Of course this is a problem for both of them, because Atsushi needs everyone’s acceptance, and Atsushi lives and dies by Dazai’s praise. They both share the same issue of this underdeveloped sense of self that prevents them from seeing their own strengths. They look in and they see absolutely nothing. Of course Atsushi takes what the detective agency says in the worst way possible, because to him they are repeating things he already thinks about himself. 

Atsushi is so stuck inside his head he has this strange paradox, where everything he does he does for everyone else’s approval, but at the same time that approval doesn’t mean anything because he’s so fundamentally insecure he can’t really let himself believe they might actually like him. How could they when Atsushi doesn’t like himself? 

This is where we get to Akutagawa’s advice. “Look outside.” 

What Atsushi needs is to step outside his own head, and look at other people, really look at them. We are taught about ourselves through our relationships with other people. The only way for him to change even a little bit is to step outside his own head to begin with. 

Which is what we see in this chapter. Atsushi could have just stayed in that room, done nothing, and not had to take responsibility for anything. When he steps out of the door, he is the one making the decision to do so. 

You could say his decision to tell everything to Fukuzawa is a small step in the right direction, because even if he’s still trying to leave the decision to the adult, Atsushi is still making himself an active particpant. He is admitting, and this is something he’s had trouble admitting before that he has a contribution to make. That is also the number one reason why instead of realizing that he is a smart kid in his own right, every single time a problem has been thrown up for Atsushi this arc he imagines Dazai figuring things out for him and telling him what to do. Because Atsushi himself believes he’s such a small person that nothing he could do could have an affect on the world around him and that’s just not true. 

Because Atsushi himself doesn’t need to be an exceptional or an extraordinary person. He doesn’t need to become someone special to matter. As cheesy as it is Atsushi really only needs to be himself. To have confidence in himself and his own decisions. Even if he’s just a completely average human being, even without the tiger, there are still things he can do to contribute to the greater whole, and Atsushi stepping out of the room is really his first step in acknowledging that. 

[human-psyche]

A DEADLY ATTRACTION.

" everybody has light around them. he has shadows... "

characters: yeonjun x reader

genre: dark, romance, angst, gangs, hitman!yeonjun, yandere!yeonjun, violence, mature content

about: choi yeonjun is txt's sniper. he's cold, emotionless and wicked, but most importantly, he's known to never miss. y/n, an unlucky witness, becomes his first ever mistake on his latest mission so he resorts to keeping her hostage and hiding this secret. y/n is soon caught in a toxic dance of attraction with the male who stands between her and freedom...

No matter how much Y/n pleaded, Yeonjun simply would not be moved at all. He'd watch her struggle with a curiousity that's both cruel and somehow distant, though underneath, he also has a strange fascination for the way she refuses to give up on her freedom, nevermind that she's now far away from even going out to a store to shop for her own clothes: reduced to wearing those he'd bought of his own liking, or lack of it, and thrown at her to change. Heck, she can't even pull the curtains without it having a negative effect on her existence with him.

During one of those times when she's gathering up all her hatred to confront him again directly, eventhough she knows deep down that it's nowhere near efficient, the male enters the bedroom, quickly subduing her before she can scream out loud. He holds her wrists so tightly that she winces in pain.

"Let me go!" she yells at him, injecting every ounce of power and courage she has into her demand which is a whole lot daring given her position as a victim.

Seeing her energy, something stirs inside Yeonjun; he has never taken a liking to a target before, sure, they're interesting, but none of them has ever made him feel...this. He needs to push it away to focus on his job. He may have thought he's immune to feeling anything, but the truth is he doesn't want to admit.

"You should be less vocal." he says.

Y/n narrows her eyes at him in defiance, provoked by the fact that he doesn't even take her argument seriously.

"And you should have the decency to be more human." she retorts back like an acrid insult, making her honest opinion of him known despite the fear that lingers in every interaction she has with him.

Yeonjun growls in irritation. He steps closer to her still form, towering over her smaller frame. "You don't know a thing about me," he hisses.

"I know more than you think. You make me sick."

The two lock eyes, a dialogue of anger and hate driving the exchange between them like a chain reaction, her attitude to his ill treatment adding fuel to the fire.

Yeonjun is the first to move: he lunges forward. The girl attempts to fight back but her strength's no match for him, she tries to keep herself unaffected though she fails, sobbing through her teeth at the sting produced because he pulls her closer. She can feel his breath on her face…her anger bleeding through her response to him which is to scream again at the hitman, this time akin to a defense mechanism to try and restore some space.

He can feel the sadness emanating off of her. He wishes he can turn off his feelings but for once, he can't. His cold demeanor is the only thing he allows himself to feel but despite all this, he finds her captivating.

"Would you shut up already?" he sneers. "You're wasting your breath."

"No!" Y/n shouts back. "I won't shut up! You can't do this to me! Let me go!"

The hitman cocks an eyebrow, intrigued by the passionate manner in which she's fighting against him. That numbing emotion that he's not sure how to interpret quickly leaves him as he remembers his mission and her screams return to the forefront of his mind. "It won't make a difference." he brings her back to reality. "You don't have a choice. You're my hostage now and you'll stay here with me untill I can find a way to use you."

As he tilts her chin up with one finger and looks at her with a cruel smirk on his lips, Y/n wants to rip away from his grasp and run for her life, but her body is paralyzed by fear. Instead, she just stares at him, unable to comprehend the situation she currently finds herself in, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Your defiance is attractive, but you're not going anywhere, Y/n."

His matter-of-factly voice is as cold as ice, sending shivers down the her spine.

Without warning, he leans in to plant a single kiss on her.

It feels like a brand, Y/n recoils in shock.

"Now you're quiet."

Avoiding his gaze, she swallows her protest, her gaze filled with stubborn tears that she refuses to shed in front of him.

The corners of his lips quirk up. "You look like you have something to say."

She scrambles for words, calming her ragged breaths before speaking. "I will never forgive you for treating me like this." she grits out, the venom evident in her verbalized disapproval of what their criminal - hostage relationship seems to have turned to, as if it wasn't enough how he dealt with her before, right from the beginning.

"Oh? And why's that?"

She lets out a scream of pure frustration. While backing away from him and getting off the ironically king sized, very comfortable, very spacious bed that his luxury apartment can afford, she has no intention to give in to his game. "You can't win, Choi Yeonjun. I'll never stop fighting." she swears, her determined voice betrayed only by how it shakes with the will to get over this.

He's silent as he watches her, curiousity resurfacing. She's a challenge for him, someone he finds interesting.

Her movements are steady as she curls down next to the big balcony windows and stares him down, her fingers clenching in the fabric of her shirt. Distance, that's what she needs from him right now, especially after how close they were earlier. It messes with her…she can't, she shouldn't even think about it. "I'm going to escape one day. You can't keep me here forever." Y/n whispers, trying to convince him一 or rather convince herself.

"It looks like you have a lot to learn, Y/n."

Yeonjun simply shrugs. A clear response.

He has no plans to let her go.

. . .

a/n: part one will be posted soon. share / reblog if you like and do follow me for more similar content!

[writernopal]

Nopal! Please, please tell me more about lizardfolk women - I don't recall seeing them on page that much?

What's the current fashion? What's their typical role in the society? Anything else about them you want to share?

Sam! Thank you for the ask!!

Oh my Lizardfolk ladies! This is going to be SUPER LONG because this topic is so loaded and you are getting me so STARTED on it lol so I'll put most of it under a cut because I have A LOT to say! i think you may have just unlocked the longest info-dump/unprompted close reading of my own work so congrats lol Before we get into the meaty lore, I'll address this point!

I don't recall seeing them on page that much?

This is both intentional and something that happened as a by-product of who the main characters are in AASOAF. Let me explain.

CW: misogyny, aggressive patriarchy, mentions of enslavement

AASOAF is primarily told through the lens of Mariel and Axtapor, joined later by the POV's of Fay and Wilkes in AASOAF 2 and 3, but of that cast, Axtapor is the closest to typical Lizardfolk society and experience. But here's the thing: he's a male and because he was brought up in the highly patriarchal system of Lizardfolk, he (and we as readers) start the series from that perspective. That is, mostly blind or flat out ignoring the experience and role of women in Lizardfolk society aside from reciting the surface effects that directly impact him and his experience as a man.

To quote him from AASOAF 1:

[My grandmother] had always resented my grandfather for turning her children into cruel, unfeeling people. Her daughters were not that way, but she never saw them again after they were wed. That was customary since a wife should live with her husband to raise his children and support his clan. As a result, she was left surrounded by her sons, and sons were rarely influenced by their mothers in The Empire.  Most men saw them as a bother more than anything. I know I certainly did. My own mother was a stifled, sad creature who had to simper and bow just right lest she offend my father. It was exhausting to bear witness to. And grandmothers were, more or less, nonexistent to their grandsons, making the relationship that my grandmother and I had a strange one. They didn’t form connections with them, let alone write and visit with one another as we did. I was well past marrying age too. If there should be anyone I should be spending time with of the opposite sex, it should be my wife.

There are a few other instances where in AASOAF 1 when he speaks about women in a pretty derogatory/selfish and frankly, misogynistic way that reflects his upbringing:

In the past, I’d never imagined a woman doing anything for me beyond being intimate. And it had never mattered to me if a woman enjoyed being in my company or if she wanted to spend time doing simple things with me. Their opinions of me also didn’t matter too much so long as I was satisfied...

I narrowed my eyes in her direction. She wasn’t even in half-mourning. Husbands had the option to be in half-mourning after the passing of their wives, but wives weren’t given such a choice.

This, along with the intentional omission of their mention is not only meant to construct Axtapor's character, especially because these criticisms are largely omitted when he speaks about his grandmother, but the Empire as a whole since we don't physically visit that location in any significant way until AASOAF 2.

So the absence/narrow representation of Lizardfolk women is there precisely to make you ask the question that you posed and to make you uncomfortable. You are forcefully put in the shoes of someone who has benefited from that position in the overall hierarchy and presented with his view which is taken and supported as fact in the context of the story. His grandmother, Lady Fisla, tries to knock some sense into him but he mostly brushes her off and decides shutting up is easier than having it out with her. This contributes to the overall narrative of the female experience and unseen struggle that is both a prominent theme and undercurrent throughout the work.

Snippet of that here:

“And your luck is much better than that of your sisters’, who, despite being born into the same family as you, have no choice but to live under [your father's] thumb until they are married. At which point, they are to be crushed by their husbands instead. You, Axtapor, have the world laid at your feet because you are male and because you are nobility. You have the great fortune that your legs can simply walk you to freedom. Those around you are not the same. They are not your equals. Never forget that and do not use it as a weapon or measure for which you pass judgment upon others.” I didn’t know how to respond, so I just nodded instead.  She so rarely lectured me and was usually rather calm, even unbothered, but for those few moments, she changed completely. I wondered how such a transformation might be possible given her usual demeanor, but I supposed I had stricken a nerve.

This starts to change in AASOAF 2 and definitely in AASOAF 3, with the introduction of Lizardfolk women to the cast and the perspective of an eye-opened Axtapor who has become more aware of their struggles and circumstances due to the events of AASOAF 1. In AASOAF 2 especially, we start to examine how the nature of his upbringing is also harmful to him via his internal monologue and interactions with Mariel and in AASOAF 3 things come to a head and a lot of his core values are challenged along with that of other Lizardfolk men around him. But I won't get into that here!

DEEP BREATH NOW

What's the current fashion?

So I talked a bit about fashion here but I'll pull the more relevant bits out of that!

Each house has a style they prefer. House of War prefers styles similar to traditional Thai dress, the House of Law prefers styles similar to 17th-century Japanese garments, and the House of Dreams prefers styles similar to Mughal period Indian fashion. Their winter wear, when they have need of it, is heavily inspired by Mongolian fashion. Additionally, corsets are favored by women of the Holtep Empire. These are not the undergarments you might imagine for human people, nor are they worn all the time, usually only for special occasions and usually only by the nobility. They are worn with special robes that expose the midriff and are made of steel. They are more like armor than anything else, and unlike human corsets are meant solely for aesthetic purposes; they don't support breasts (bc they don't have any) and are intended to emphasize how small a woman's waist is. It is the most desired of traits in the Empire.

Those of nobility would of course wear finer, more elaborate garments than those of the lower and working classes.

What's their typical role in the society?

Their role is seen exclusively as a method to continue lineages, to form clan alliances via marriage, to raise her husband's children (no, they are not considered hers), and support his clan. They have little to no agency over their own affairs or lives unless they are widowed or otherwise "socially encumbered" (I'll come back to that in a second).

To quote Axtapor from AASOAF 2:

Daughters did as they were commanded in The Empire. They married the man her father selected for her and popped out as many clutches as her husband demanded of her. The practice didn’t bother me for a long time; it just seemed like a fact of life, but that was no longer the case. It wasn’t right; how could it be?! But unbelievably, to every man here, and quite possibly every man in The Empire, it was. It was as right as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. These women were not living beings with feelings; they were playthings, pawns in their game to move upwards, being crushed over and over and expected to smile like they were grateful for it!

So despite being awarded, lands, titles, and wealth upon completing their ikismals, they are mostly named as custodians of those things to hold them as a kind of dowry to be absorbed completely by her husband when she marries. I should note, even the ikismal ceremonies for women are unbalanced against those for men.

Men are instructed to survive in the wilds for five days with nothing but a knife and bring back a kill by the end of it. Women are symbolically thrown out into the desert to survive, by way of being placed in a hut where she must meditate for the whole of the five days. By the end, she is expected to have shaken off her girlhood mentality via this meditation and is deemed patient and rational enough to enter society properly. They are left without food or water though, just like the men, so it is possible that they can perish during this time as the men do. Once they enter society the expectation is that they fully support their husband's endeavors and largely remain silent about it.

NOW

This is not the case if a woman is widowed or "socially encumbered." If she is widowed, Oepus law states (yes this is for all women on Oepus, not just the Empire) that she observes mourning practices (clothing, rituals, etc) according to her country of residence and that she cannot take another partner for two years. This is the doing of The Pale Kings and their relationship with Priestesses of Shanta which is a separate thing that I won't get into here.

However, in the Empire, a woman is not forced to remarry once she is widowed. The idea behind this is that she has served her "purpose" and as long as she's had children with her late husband, then she is no longer of use. She is typically bequeathed with some amount of wealth and a private estate or residence according to her husband's station and a portion of his slaves. She has no rank and is not recognized as a matriarch of her family, despite bearing the clan name and still being associated with her late husband's station. She may come and go as she pleases and is at the top of the "woman pecking order" because she has done her duty. Lady Fisla falls into this category, and is cited as a great lady by Axtapor and female peers in her circle, but the men of Clan Oxlo still don't treat her with much respect.

Now for the "socially encumbered." These are women that for one reason or another, are deemed not fit for marriage. Either because they don't have a large enough dowry, they come from a clan of low repute, have committed a social taboo, etc, etc. Basically if they have any "undesirable" trait they can fall into this category. This is highly subjective but can be enough to punt someone down several social ranks. Other women in this category are those who are considered caretakers to other members of their family, be that children, the disabled, or injured. This means that professions like nursing, teaching, and childcare provided to those outside the home, including extended family, are frowned upon and not considered feminine or proper for a lady to engage in. Axtapor's cousin, Lady Idhi, falls into this category.

She, however, is not afforded any wealth or other luxuries as her grandmother is due to her widowed status. Instead, she thrives off her own dowry, another thing which is seen as taboo because it's considered theft. As a result, she is largely excommunicated from Clan Oxlo goings on and does not have the 'rights' to enter the marriage market. This status essentially means you're invisible which can be a good and a bad thing because you're pretty much isolated from any help if you ever need it.

Anything else about them you want to share?

They are incredibly shrewd and bold, something that you can see in almost all of the Lizardfolk women mentioned in the series including, Lady Fisla, Lady Idhi, Lady Phreldra (Axtapor's mother) and historical figures like the woman behind Solas Week, Mother Mazvah, and Lady Maliah, First Empress of The Holtep Empire, more on her here. As experienced members of society, they understand that to get ahead in their world they must operate underhandedly and silently, gaming the system in their favor where they can. This is pretty apparent in the beginning of AASOAF 2 and will play a pretty big role in AASOAF 3. As a side note, this shrewdness is also demonstrated by Fay due to her closeness with her adoptive Lizardfolk family.

Axtapor's sisters, Lady Ulsei and Lady Egra, don't fall into this category and are portrayed as quite transparent and lacking substance but this is because the two of them are used to explore the effects of their upbringing in the wider world of Oepus similar to the way Axtapor is used throughout the series. What I will say is that these two are key players in the latter half of AASOAF 3.

And finally, we have Alma, Fay and Wilkes' adoptive mother, who is more representative of the lower/working class experience of Lizardfolk women that I didn't even touch on in this post. I might make a separate one about her with that context in mind since there is a lot to her story that deserves to have it's own place.

[n0tamused]

First of all - thank u for feeding us wuwa stans🙏 💓 love your blog

Can u do headcanons of Aalto and Scar in a relationship with a quirky/slightly unhinged reader ? Like she is not scared to get into danger and protecc but also attacc even when the situation is suuuper grim ?

A/N: It is my duty to provide food for my fellow WuWa stans. I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying my blog too, thank you for being here! <3 And I sure can. It is my first time writing for Scar, so I do apologize if he may be a bit ooc or if his hcs aren't as long as Aalto's. Feedback is much appreaciated

Contents: Aalto x reader, Scar x reader (separate), a bit of swearing, fluff and crack overall

Ko-fi

Aalto: 

-For a man like Aalto, it would take a lot to make him really scared/concerned, and he has ways and more than enough energy to keep up with someone of your caliber and personality 

-He does love that you can match his personality too, and a lot of the time the two of you can end up bantering about one thing and poking at each other, even physical play fights aren’t something uncommon to happen. 

-In most situations, Aalto does end up being that voice of reasons that saves you both some extra bruises or scratches

-Where he does drive the line is where you throw yourself into danger’s way like a sack of potatoes

-"How about we don’t! Don’t do that!"

-Although he may have all lightheartedness in him to soothe the souls of the weary and to trick little Encore here and there, he hardly has it in him to stay so optimistic where you narrowly dodge a hit from the enemy that could have ended you on the spot

-Sooner rather than later he makes it a point to stick to your side at all times so he can pull you out of the way, should something come hurling down at you and you just decide that you can take it on

-In the end you two are stronger together, and Aalto would not want to miss out on your killer moves. He does praise you too, he really does admire you.

-Loves to spar with you too, it gives him a chance to relax with you while also letting you both learn some new offense and defense moves. He does teach you more defense tactics definitely

-That all aside, he does admire your… odd sense of optimism. He gets it. As mentioned, he can always be playful himself, even in dark times, but Aalto is just not used to really seeing that trait in others, or seeing it accentuated in someone.

-It’s what drives him even closer to you. In a way he is overprotective but at the same time he sort of enables your behavior by not outright scolding you and keeping that lighthearted tone about himself 

-In really dark times, it gets you both to keep pushing through, and that’s more than he could ever ask for

-He does cherish you lots for all you are, but each time you risk it he begins to hold you even closer, as close as the world and his duty would allow it, and maybe an inch more than that since he’d bend a few rules just for you

Scar:

-I believe it goes without saying that Scar would LOVE if his s/o was a little crazy. He desperately craves to have someone to do crime and be free with.

-It gives him such an adrenaline rush that he feeds off of, it is his lifeline, and he can never get enough. He is the adrenaline junky by all means

-Scar would love to tease and probe you, trying to get more ideas out of you for possible “date activities”. Although he takes this mission of his organization seriously, no one could ever really stop him from having fun along the way too. He was never even bound to the strictness that the other organization members shared.

-Enables all your crazy stunts and gives them his own opinions and ideas. And if you expressed the desire for it (more like he offered it himself), he’d summon that domain of his for a more “abstract” playing field for both of you. He is not opposed to showing off that goat monster form he has. May as well work as some extra training time for both of you.

-You can hear him cheer for you if he sees you kick someone's ass. Doesn't hold back to make fun of whoever it is that dared to go against you, and he hopes you don't show them any mercy either

-Scar would be a lot more openly affectionate with you as well. He’d have an arm around you a lot of times, and sometimes he’d poke or pinch the side of your stomach to watch you jump and squirm and giggle or squeal, and if you do that back to him he’d inhale a laugh (crazy man) before starting to attack you with more poking and pinching and tickling

-Can get a bit rough so I’d be careful if I were you-

-If you hurt yourself during a mission or just some random outing, he will be quite angry. Not directly at you, although he makes it a point to give you a scolding about keeping yourself in one piece, but he is even more angry at whoever dared to hurt you. He is way too protective. There aren’t many people like you, or people that he’d allow to be this close to him, and he doesn’t plan to lose you either

-If it’s some smaller cut or bruise that happens before his eyes though, he will laugh at that and call you clumsy or silly. Teases you about it for a little while.

-He may be a (little shit) little crazy, but he has his moments where he’d demand to simply lay down with you, wrap his arms around your waist and lay his head on your stomach as he rests between your legs and dozes off

-This doesn’t happen too often, but often enough to become a norm between the two of you. (Scratch his head, run your fingers through his hair-)

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[your-nanas-house]

Understanding and compare (His student chapter 2)

Pairing: professor! Jeremiah Valeska X student! Reader

Warnings: comparing, feelings, daydreaming, obsessed Miah

Words: 828

Summary: Jeremiah needs to understand his feelings.

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This is the chapter 2 of 'His student'. Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Jeremiah's hand moved quickly as he kept writing down the emotions, sensations and feelings he had felt that day and after, thinking long and hard not to forget any of them.

Butterflies, euphoria, increased energy, sleeplessness, loss of appetite, trembling, a racing heart and accelerated breathing, as well as anxiety, panic, jealousy and more…

All feelings that a person felt when they were in love, or so it said in his book about the emotions of human beings, but the emotions that prevailed most were:

The need to "protect", the possessive thoughts, the jealousy, the low self-esteem, the desire to have her complete attention... the desire to want to be the star of her show.

Those were feelings he had felt before, when he was still known as Jeremiah Valeska and had had that obsession with Bruce Wayne.

But plans had changed during the years and he had pretended to be sane in order to get out of the asylum the same year, starting his life as 'Xander Wilde' again, applying for a teaching position and receiving a yes in response.

Before he was able to enter that "world of work", however, he had to do several surgeries to get back to his former appearance, but he still put on make-up in the morning before leaving his home.

He was a little embarrassed to find himself back at the beginning without even knowing why and to have this need to find out more about it, so he started comparing Bruce Wayne with his student Y/n Y/l/n to understand, finding a few things in common but not so many.

It took him much longer than it should have because he kept pausing lost in thought while looking at the picture of Y/n he had managed to 'borrow' from school, admiring her face from hair to chin without leaving out any detail, staring for more than a few seconds at Y/n's y/e/c eyes that were fixed right into his own..destiny Jeremiah believed, a destiny that made him daydream about so many different things and so many different kinds, pretty things to haunting things to sinful things, he didn't even know he was capable of thinking about the last ones.

'A smile formed on Y/n's lips as she blushed slightly answering the question Jeremiah had just asked, causing him to hold back a smile at the shyness her movements showed at that moment, Y/n was always shy when Jeremiah made her answer questions or they had to talk alone, a 'normal' person would think that it could only be because the student was an introvert and shy person so the blush was caused by that but in Jeremiah's mind it was caused by the little crush she was starting to have on him or that he was so charismatic that made her blush.

Maybe her thoughts, while she looked at him with those innocent doe eyes, were dirty and when their eyes met he turned her on even more.

There were so many possible motivations that could come to him, some logical others driven by the desire to be reciprocated by her'

'Y/n's mouth was almost always busy in something when she was a little nervous, sometimes she played with the pencil letting her teeth nibble lightly without leaving an obvious mark, other times it was her lip between her pretty teeth that was nibbled causing Jeremiah's trousers to tighten every time he noticed it, making him think and have an internal fight with himself about whether she was flirting and teasing him or not'

'Her lips so kissable were so kissable in his opinion'

'Her hands were quick to take notes and sketch out ideas, they were also quick as they tapped on the keyboard of her laptop as she took notes or looked for information pertaining to the lesson, editing and arranging it all to have it nice and neat.

They looked so angelic to Jeremiah, so gorgeous that they would have fit nicely around his cock or around his neck, her fingers caressing his skin lingering on his lips so that he could suck on them to make her more aroused.

She could do so many things with those hands of hers'

'Y/n's y/e/c eyes, so piercing according to Jeremiah, so stunning and mysterious, they hid so much but showed just beauty, they made everyone lose his breath or at least they make the engineer lose it'

He lingered on Y/n's lips again as he daydreamed about how their first kiss would happen as soon as she would accept him.

But there he was at his desk, sitting in his chair with the picture of her in his hand still alone and at home without any company even if he wanted it but he wanted a specific one of course because now the only thing that occupied his mind was 'his new obsession'.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @trainer--taylor , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @animefan3223 , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @gothamlovcr

[onceuponastory]

normal - steve kemp x reader: chapter three: rude awakenings

Let's get this straight You are a panic in the bloodstream, yet you bring me peace You are a stutter in the heart that beats inside of me - numb without you by the maine

Series Masterlist Pairing: Steve Kemp x Female!Reader...sort of, lmao Chapter Warnings: 18+ ONLY PLEASE.  Mentions of death/murder, dead bodies, cannibalism (basically everything Steve does to people in Fresh), manipulation, blood, biting and light smut: just a little bit of touching and the smallest cum mention. Also, Steve Kemp just being Steve Kemp. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: Once again, I am SO sorry for the delay in writing and posting this. Life stuff and inspo for other Steve works happened. But here we go! This chapter is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Once again, credit to @firefly-graphics and @maysdigitalarts​ for the dividers/banners!

Also, I’m posting this chapter on Fresh’s release day in the UK and Ireland, so if you have just seen the movie and need more Steve content in your life, please feel free to check out my other works for him HERE!

Nervously, Y/N glances around the cell one last time, ensuring that she knows how to run out if she needs it. Steve notices her looking around, and he sighs. “I told you. You don’t have to worry. I mean, you don’t think I’m that dangerous, do you?” Images of Steve’s victims flash through her mind once more, and the last thing she wants is to end up like them. Despite how much it excited her to think about meeting her end at the hands of Steve…she’d still prefer to leave here with all of her limbs intact, and none of her eaten. It’s then that she realises that Steve is still looking at her, actually waiting for an answer to his question.

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” She asks nervously.

“I must admit, I’d prefer it if you did.”

“Well Steve, it’s hard not to think that. I mean, you were in the news…like I said, you’ve done so much-” Steve tuts, shaking his head.

“No. I don’t care about all the news and what they have to say. All I care about is your opinion of me. Even though some could argue that you shared enough of it yesterday.” He reminds her, and her cheeks burn, Steve’s angry face imprinted on her mind. Surprisingly though, Steve doesn’t bring it up, and continues. “And besides, we’re partners, aren’t we? There should be some form of trust between us.” She frowns at that comment. Usually the people she interviews relish in the news coverage they’ve been getting, and demand she brings a copy of the newspapers discussing them to every interview. They never once cared about her own opinion of them. Then again, it didn’t exactly differ from the opinions shared in the news reports. For Steve not to care is strange. “Go on. It’s alright.” He presses. 

“Are you sure? Last time I voiced my opinion it didn’t go well.” Steve chuckles, nodding.

“That’s true. But you’re a smart woman, and I’d be remiss if I didn’t let you share your thoughts. Especially since they all bubbled over yesterday. Be as honest as you like.” Y/N feels even more conflicted. After dealing with so many criminals who didn’t care about her or her thoughts, it’s weird to have someone who does. At the same time though, having Steve care about her opinion makes her feel strangely…happy. She knows it sounds weird to admit that being complimented on her intelligence by a mass murder and a cannibal makes her feel good, and to be honest she’s not sure why it does make her feel that way, but she isn’t going to deny it.

“Yes Steve, I do think you’re dangerous.” She admits. “And I am still a little scared around you…despite how much you tell me not to be. I mean, I’ve never been up so close with someone like you before. So close that I could touch them.” Steve raises a curious eyebrow at the last part of her sentence, but says nothing and simply nods. 

“I see. Thank you for your honesty, but like I said, you don’t have to be afraid…I won’t hurt you.” And for the first time ever, Y/N feels a little comforted by those words. When she said Steve was dangerous, she wasn’t telling the full story. Of course, he is dangerous, but there’s so much more to him. He’s…different, he’s interesting, but most of all…he’s exciting. “Before we resume trying to solve this case, may I ask you something else first?” Steve asks. Knowing she has no other say in the matter, Y/N nods. “Why did you want to become an FBI agent? Especially one like this. I can’t imagine most little girls your age dreamed of being stuck in here with someone like me.” He cocks his head, looking over her with a grin. “I must say, though, I am glad that you’re here.” Y/N ignores the feeling in her stomach after hearing those words, and her eyes flicker away from Steve’s gaze.

“I wanted to do something different…to make a difference in the world, and to try and change it for the better.” Steve nods, but still regards her with a curious look, as if he somehow knows that she’s not telling him the whole story. 

“I see. How…admirable of you.” He gives her a soft smile. 

“Now, can we start-” Y/N begins, but Steve cuts her off, tutting. 

“I’m still not finished.” Although she’s already had enough of this question and answer session, she knows it has to be done, so Y/N stops talking. “I must ask how the experience has been for you so far. In all my years of being stuck here and having interviews with various news outlets and other law enforcement…it’s never been a woman. I always wondered why more women didn’t do this sort of thing. To be honest, I wasn’t sure they did. I’m sure most men wouldn’t be too happy with a woman in their testosterone-filled environments.” Y/N scoffs.

“I’m sorry, but that sounds a little sexist of you, Steve.” To her surprise, he lets out a little chuckle.

“Oh no, on the contrary, my dear Agent….” Y/N gasps when she hears the word dear leave his lips. A small heat fills her cheeks, and Steve smiles, clearly noticing his words' effect on her. And yet, he says nothing and continues. “I love women in all their various shapes and sizes.” He licks his lips slightly, pointedly looking over her body. “They taste nicer, for a start. Sell better too. Forgive me for saying this Y/N, but your meat would sell really well.” He lowers his voice. “I think it would taste amazing too.” Another shiver goes up Y/N’s body, and her heart rate rises momentarily. Of course, Steve told her that he had thought about tasting her, and now he’s closer to her than ever before. What if he breaks free somehow and does just that? Once again though, she can feel a slight excitement as he looks over her body again, wondering what he’s thinking about her. However, that feeling is gone as soon as her brain reminds her of the sort of person Steve is once again. “Anyway.” Steve clears his throat. “As I was asking, how has this experience of working at the FBI been for you so far?”

“Well…um.” Y/N begins, laughing awkwardly slightly, having no idea what to say. “It’s been…interesting, to say the least?” Images and memories flash through her mind. Memories of when she first started her training at the academy, faces sneering at her, telling her that she’s not good enough to be here, and how determined she was to prove them wrong. As those memories fade, they’re replaced by new ones. Memories showing all the darkness and evil she’s encountered. And Steve is right in the middle of them. “I’ve dealt with a lot in my career, let’s say. A lot of evil and a lot of darkness. Too much, some would say.” Steve nods.

“How about working with me? Is it any different from working with other cannibals?” Y/N doesn’t know how to respond to his question right away. Steve looks over at her, grinning as if he knows how much his question has confused her. Y/N frowns. Steve does have a darkness to him like all the others she’s encountered, but things with him are different. Like she realised earlier, there’s far more to Steve Kemp than meets the eye. Despite all of this however, and all the conflicting feelings she has about him, something about Steve still pulls her towards him. Something that she still can't explain.

“You’re…different.” She admits. Steve frowns again as if he’s once again expecting another answer from her. Y/N feels another wave of confusion wash over her. She wasn’t lying, but part of her can’t shake the feeling that Steve is also intrigued by her, and that there’s something he’s not telling her either. If only she could know what it is. It would mean that she might finally understand why she feels so connected to Steve.

“I see. I must say, I’ve never been described as different before, especially not by someone like you, but I guess I’ll take it.” Steve laughs, and Y/N lets a small smile grace her lips. Maybe he’s starting to open up to her again? That’s always a good sign. And he’s laughing at what she has to say too, which is even better in her opinion. “Well then. I suppose we better get started.” Steve announces.

The total weight of the situation hits Y/N again. Even though she would like to know more about Steve, and to understand why she feels so…connected to him, she knows that she can't. She's only there to talk to him to learn why people like him do what they do in the hopes of solving a case, not to make friends with a cannibalistic serial killer. She's here to do a job, and that's all…even if saying that is making her sadder than expected. Pushing those sad thoughts out of her brain, Y/N nods. 

“Okay, Steve. Let’s begin.”

“So, all of your victims have bite marks, right?” Steve asks, and Y/N nods. “Why do you think that is?” He asks. Y/N clears her throat, looking through her notes.

“Well, studies show that serial killers-” Steve shakes his head.

“No. No studies. I’ve had enough of those. They’re so boring and repetitive. Then again, they’ve probably done lots on me, and how bad I am. But you know that already, don’t you? It is why you’re here after all…” He trails off, studying her intently. Y/N feels a spark up her entire body, making her shiver. “Like I said, I’m far more interested in your opinion, rather than that of some boring psychologist. I fucking hate psychologists. Not you, though.” 

“Thanks.” She responds, still trying to ignore the happiness she feels at those kinds of comments from Steve. 

“Seriously, Y/N, I mean it. I admire your tenacity and determination. And I can tell how much your heart is in this. It’s quite admirable, actually.” Y/N dips her head, trying to hide the embarrassment taking over her at Steve’s compliment. Even though it still feels wrong, she still can’t deny how nice it feels to be complimented by him, and how good she feels by how impressed Steve is with her. At least somebody is. “It’s good to have tenacity. It reminds me of when I started doing what I was doing, and I had to find the determination to carry on, despite how wrong it felt. I did it though.” And there it is. Of course he has to make it all about himself. Then again, Y/N knows she can’t be too surprised that’s what Steve is doing. Most serial killers are narcissists, and Steve is no different. Or maybe Steve and her brain constantly reminding him of the sort of person he is the universe urging her to stop being so interested in him. If only things were that easy.

“Thank you Steve.” She gives him a small smile, which he returns.

“Anyway. Why do you think he bites his victims? After all, not every cannibal or serial killer does that. I mean, I didn’t.”

“I know. That’s because you sold their meat, though. And you never dumped them. Then again, there wasn’t much to dump….” She points out, and Steve nods, smiling proudly at the discussion of his work. “To be honest Steve, you didn’t do a lot of the things we’ve seen other cannibals do. Like I said…you’re different from the other killers I’ve interviewed and studied. Much more different.” Steve grins.

“Why, thank you Y/N. I’m honoured.” Even though a part of her still feels a little weird at hearing Steve saying her name, another part of her, a growing one, is starting to like it even more. Especially the way it sounds in his voice. “So come on. Why does he bite them then?” Steve asks.

“I think it’s about ownership, of course. But for me, the fact that he’s leaving his victims all out in the open, each with a bite mark on them, when he knows that we can track him and look for his dental records in the database…to me, it’s like he’s taunting us. He’s showing us all what he’s capable of, and he knows we don’t have much of a chance of finding him, at least right now.” She sighs frustratedly. “God, I just want to find him! I don’t want someone else to go through this, to have another family crying and begging us for answers.”

“Hey. I know.” Steve shushes her, his voice strangely softer. “It’s alright. I’ll help you catch him.” Y/N frowns. Only yesterday, he spoke about her desire to solve the case and laughed that she couldn't do anything about it other than talk to him. And yet, he is now trying to reassure her even though he’s caused precisely the same pain to so many other families and women. But despite how much Y/N hates how contradictory and unpredictable Steve is, a part of her has to admit that she likes the feeling of Steve wanting to care for her, which only adds to her conflicted feelings. “I agree, by the way. He’s definitely trying to taunt you guys…and I think it’s working.” Sighing, she nods. “But like I said, you’re a smart girl Y/N. You just need a little push. And you need my knowledge so that we can figure this out together.” And there he goes again with his arrogance. Y/N sighs. It still amazes her how Steve can switch from scary and manipulative to arrogant and then to kind…or at least, how kind someone like him can be, at the drop of a hat. She knows that is what people like him do, and as a criminal psychologist she knows that better than anyone…but that doesn’t make the transformation any less strange.

“Steve, did you ever think about taunting the police like this?” He shakes his head.

“I didn’t have to. Like you said, I got rid of most of their parts, and the last thing I wanted to do was draw unwanted attention to my business. Then again, though…I do think there were a few officers and federal agents amongst my clientele, so they probably turned a blind eye.” He grins, laughing. “Maybe you should keep an eye out. You never know what monsters are hiding in plain sight. Saying that however, you have met me, so it’s probably not too hard to believe how easy it is for monsters to hide.” He laughs, correcting himself. Y/N nods. “Still though, I’d watch out if I were you. They might be one of your coworkers.” He warns, laughing slightly. Y/N feels her stomach churn. Dealing with one cannibal is more than enough for her. The last thing she needs is to add another into the mix. “It’s a joke, Y/N. Just a stupid joke. Don’t worry.” He tells her, seeing the horror on her face. Unfortunately, Steve’s reassurance does little to calm her nerves. Clearing her throat, Y/N continues her questioning, trying to avoid her fear. Or at least, to not let Steve see it.

“Is there anyone you know who might fit this profile? Anyone you might have encountered who seemed a little too interested? Any clients who might have asked for tips on how to get started?” Thinking it over for a while, Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“No. Sorry, but I didn’t exactly keep in touch with them or talk to them that much, aside from asking them what they wanted. I don’t even know how many are out there, or if they told someone else about it. It’s not like we have a secret network of cannibals where we all share trade secrets or anything.” Involuntarily, Y/N lets out a small giggle at that but regrets it almost immediately, clamping her mouth shut to stop any more giggles from escaping. However, it’s too late, and Steve grins, knowing he’s got her to feel comfortable around him…if even a little bit.

Suddenly, a voice cuts in, causing the pair to turn towards it. A prison guard stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets. Y/N recognises him as the first one who spoke to her, and showed her where Steve’s cell is. 

“Your time is up, Agent Y/L/N. It’s almost time for Doctor Kemp to carry out his work.” Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Y/N turns to Steve.

“They gave me a job in the prison medical wing. It’s mostly because I’m the only qualified doctor in this damn place…but I like to think that it’s for my good behaviour.” He explains with a grin and a wink. Once again, Y/N tries to ignore the feelings that arise when Steve winks at her. “I know. Maybe giving the murderous and cannibalistic doctor a job where he’s surrounded by scalpels and other medical equipment wasn’t such a good idea, but they had no other choice.” He whispers, laughing slightly. “Sorry. My jokes are awful. But don’t worry though…I promise I’ll be good.” 

“Come on.” The guard calls, beckoning Y/N forward. 

“You better go. He’s come to save you from the big bad serial killer.” Steve whispers again, and Y/N nods, stepping out of the cell. Weirdly, when she first realised how close she would be to Steve from now on, she wanted to flee. Although now she is actually leaving…a part of her doesn’t want to go, both because she wants to find out more information on the case, and because she still wants to know what it is about him that’s so damn intriguing to her. She turns back to Steve, and he smirks at her. “Goodbye Y/N.” He tells her, before the guard gently begins to usher her away. And although some of her still wants to stay, Y/N turns to leave.

At least it gives her all the more reason to come back.

As time goes on, Y/N continues her…relationship with Steve, and feeds all the information gathered back to her bosses and the police. She’s quite weirded out that it has that name, but Steve is the one who came up with it, and she learned a long time ago that saying no to Steve Kemp or challenging him is not a good idea. Since she and Steve are seeing each other more and more often, and she’s sharing more and more personal information about herself in the hopes of getting him to open up, she can feel that they are both becoming even more linked to one another.

So linked in fact, that her confusing feelings surrounding Steve and their ‘relationship’ are only amplifying. In fact, they’re amplifying so much that he’s occupying almost every waking moment of her day, more so than ever before. He’s the first thing she thinks of when she wakes up, and the last thing she thinks of when she goes to sleep. She still tries to push all those thoughts out of her mind, ignoring the excitement and the shivers she feels whenever he whispers to her or looks over her body, biting his lip as he thinks of all the things he wants to do to her. Each night, Y/N lies awake for a while, poring through her notes and textbooks, searching desperately for a rational explanation for why she’s so consumed by someone like Steve Kemp and so willing to see him. Her brain, her rational psychologist brain, takes her through every possible explanation she can think of. Of course, she knows there is one explanation for why she feels this way, but she doesn’t want to confront that idea. Because it can’t be true. There’s no way. 

She’s just confused.

She’s stressed.

She’s been seeing Steve too many times.

She’s craving answers so much that she’s latching onto Steve in the hopes that he can help her find them.

She’s always been interested in serial killers. After all, it’s why she’s in this job. Steve is just her latest obsession. An obsession much deeper than any other.

In an attempt to try and sort out her feelings, Y/N even stops seeing Steve for almost a week, feigning suffering from a severe bout of food poisoning. And it does work…for the first day or so, until she actually starts to miss seeing him. On the third day, a letter arrives at her home. She doesn’t even need to look at the name of the prison stamped on the top right corner of the envelope to realise who it’s from. In the letter, Steve tells her that he hopes she feels better soon, because he’s missing her. He also makes sure to tell her that if she ever feels sick around him, he would happily examine her in the prison hospital…the very thought of which almost makes her throw up for real. And once again, her mind is full of Steve Kemp. Even though she doesn’t think he ever left in the first place. 

One night, Y/N sighs, looking at herself in the mirror, wondering what Steve actually sees when he looks over her. Trying to see if she can understand why he’s so interested in her and why it is that she wants to see him so badly. But she can’t find anything. Y/N sighs. Maybe it’s time to accept that she’s just destined to be intrigued and excited by him? Surely that’s not too bad…right? More memories flash through her mind then, reminding her of what Steve did, and she groans, rubbing her eyes. Of course it’s a bad thing.

“Fuck.” She hisses. Giving up, Y/N decides to just go to bed, hoping she’ll somehow wake up with the answers she needs. After about an hour of tossing and turning, she thankfully drifts off soon after. However, her peaceful sleep is soon short-lived as she begins to dream.

She’s standing in a darkly red lit bedroom, dressed in only a satin black slip dress. Footsteps sound behind her, and she doesn’t even need to turn to see who it is before she hears: 

“There you are. And you dressed up just for me. I’m so lucky….” Steve’s voice echoes around the room. He wraps his arms around her waist, and she tilts her head, letting him kiss and suck on her neck. Y/N moans happily as she feels his lips against her skin. “Fuck, Y/N…” Steve whispers, moaning hungrily. He twirls her around to face him, catching her in his arms protectively. Goosebumps run up her arms, and Steve leans closer without another word, capturing her in a hungry kiss. He lifts her up, and Y/N wraps her legs around his waist, moaning as the kiss deepens and as they both let their hunger for the other person overtake them. He bites her lip a few times, biting so deeply that she can taste her blood…and it only serves to make her even hungrier. “Now.” Steve pulls apart from her. His blue eyes look over her, dark and hungry. Y/N feels another shiver going up her spine. But this time, she realises that she actually quite enjoys the feeling. “I like the taste of you Y/N.” She shivers at the sound of his voice whispering her name. “Can I have some more?” He asks, and Y/N raises an eyebrow. Steve grins. “Don’t worry…I promise I’ll be good.” He whispers. Smiling, Y/N nods. Steve carries her to the bed and places her down on it. He looks down at her, his eyes darkening as he smirks. Y/N grips the sheets, feeling a wetness growing between her thighs as he looks over her. This feeling excites her even more, and she wants to sink even further into Steve’s control and obsession. “You want me, don’t you?” Steve asks, and Y/N nods.

“Yes Steve…I do.” Y/N whimpers. Steve grins.

“You try to hide it, and play the good little girl…but I see right through you. Just like you saw right through me. You’re just as bad as I am. You’ve always wanted me.” Steve begins to climb on top of her, and his hand slips up her dress, making her gasp. “And I’ve always wanted you.”

Y/N awakens with a start before the dream can continue anymore. The whimper, HER whimper, echoes in her mind. She can still feel Steve’s touch against her skin, and it feels like she’s on fire. Panting, Y/N looks around her room, ensuring that it was just a dream and that Steve isn’t actually standing in her room. Even when she realises he’s not there, it doesn’t stop her panicking, and she jumps out of bed, running into the bathroom to check that Steve hasn’t actually marked her skin. Thankfully he hasn’t, but her skin still burns. Burns with dreadful excitement. An excitement that she knows she cannot indulge. She desperately starts scrubbing at her skin with water and a sponge in an attempt to try and cool down and to erase the idea of Steve touching and biting her from her mind. When she realises it’s not working and that all she can think about is Steve and her together, she breaks down in tears, gripping her counter in a futile attempt to steady herself and calm down. 

“No, no, no. This cannot be true! It isn’t true!” She exclaims. Panicked, she once again searches through her brain, trying to find any sort of rational explanation as to why she’d ever have a dream like that about Steve. However, it doesn’t work, and she sinks down to the floor, feeling the cold tiles of her bathroom floor on her skin. She curls up into a ball, shaking and panting. Deep down, she knows there’s usually only one reason why people have dreams like that, and she refuses to admit it. Because there’s no way it can be true.

She can’t be falling for Steve Kemp.

TAGLIST: @buckysboobs, @sebastianstansqueen, @lavendercitizen, @amanda-says, @enchantedbarnes, @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer, @kristophalis, babebr, @nerdypinupcrystal, @marve2014, @sgt-seabass, @themightyloki, @hallecarey1, @phoebethenarwhal, @lxdyred, @potato-with-hair, @chernayawidow, @gabewerk, @snugglingbucky, @late-to-the-party-81​ If you want to be added, please let me know!

[sugamamacustard]

Feed Me

Pairing: Alpha! Keiji Akaashi X Omega! Reader, Alpha! Wakatoshi Ushijima x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Rintaro Suna x Omega! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Request: Ooooo what about when Alphas 🐘 ( maybe akaashi, ushijima, rin and kuroo) find out that their omega has not been eating enough like (their only eating little things like granola bars or fruit) so their upset that they had to find out through someone else and they scold them for that but then their told that they have gain some weight and that gets them even more upset because they think their perfect etc.

Summary: Some times, people do things because it’s what they think is best. You don’t tell your alpha about some weight gain you’ve noticed, and try taking care of it yourself because of this.

Author’s Note: Hey, you. Yeah you. The beautiful person reading this? You are perfect. You are worth it. Your feelings are valid and you shouldn’t feel bad about having them. You are so amazing, and even if I don’t know you, I am so proud of you. You are so strong for making it so far. Keep going. Never change. :) Also your nice comments? Literally my dose of serotonin

did I mention my OC one or twice? Yes. Am I sorry? No. Also, idk if anyone is curious, but Yuka doesn't actually go to Shiritorizawa but whatever.

Requests: Closed!

Buy me a coffee?

Trigger Warning: Mentions of (Semi?) Starvation.

Keiji Akaashi

➵Now, Keiji is pretty on top of omega and significant other care.

➵ Like, weirdly so. It's honestly kind of creepy?

➵ In an endearing way.

➵ He always says 'Bokuto-Kun prepared me in a way.'

➵ Honestly, he loves doing this for you too!

➵He loves caring for you so much.

➵ Like I firmly believe Akaashi's love language is acts of service.

➵ So things like bringing you food, leaving sweet notes in your locker, helping you with your homework.

➵ He lives for doing these things.

➵ Especially feeding you snacks and things.

➵ It made his inner alpha purr because that meant he was caring for you. Providing for you.

➵ Being the very thing that made him worthy of an alpha.

➵ Prove that he could continue being the alpha you needed and wanted.

➵ Unfortunately, there were downsides.

➵ Your hips had the beginnings of small love handles, a little more chub on you tummy, thighs a little squishier.

➵ Let's not lie, Keiji absolutely adored this, by the way.

➵ I also think one of his biggest kinks is praise

➵ He makes sure you know how loved and how perfect you are.

➵ It's sometimes hard to believe him though.

___

"Y/N?"

You hummed an acknowledgment at Keiji's call, typing the final words to your essay before turning to look at your beautiful alpha- Sometimes you questioned how you hooked him. His gorgeous emerald eyes shining with love and adoration.

"I'm gonna go run and pick up some supper, what would you like beloved?" He came up to squeeze and massage your shoulders, leaning down as he pressed a small peck to your temple, your purr a sweet melody to his ears.

You swallowed behind your purr, trying to hide the small panic in your eyes. Your mind instantly flashed to your reflection this morning, how you pinched your hips with a frown. You already had been slowing down on the snacks, and fast food made you shiver.

"I-I'm okay for now, Keiji. Thank you though." You smiled, nonetheless, holding Keiji's cheek in your hand. He quirked a brow, frowning slightly before nodding lowly. Another peck was pressed to your cheek before he left, ordering your favorite from the diner he took you to for your first date.

-

"Beloved, I'm back." Keiji called, once more tearing you away from your essay; you were always thankful for the distraction though. He set down the take out bag, taking out the top box and handing it to you before shrugging off his jacket.

"Keiji? I said I was okay-"

"I didn't believe you. Now come on, you need to take a break and I'm touch starved." The raven didn't even look behind at you before pulling out his own box, dragging your rolley-chair to the bed. He pulled his sweater over his head, handing that to you as well before giving you a sweet peck.

His eyes locked with yours. Your breath hitched. So many silent words swam in his eyes, asking you, demanding you, to tell you what was wrong.

"I just- I've gained a little weight lately and-"

"And? My love, you are just as gorgeous as the day I met you. Nothing is wrong with a little weight, even if I think you're foolish to think you've gained weight. Never think otherwise. Even if you do, let me know, my job as your alpha and boyfriend is to make sure you feel as good as possible no matter what."

He slipped the sweater over your head, rehanding you your meal that he took from you momentarily, running a hand through your hair.

"Your my beautiful omega. Nothing should keep you from your happiness."

Wakatoshi Ushijima

➵Unlike Akaashi, Wakatoshi is little more...Hesitant (In a way) when it comes to omegan care.

➵ He never really learned how to? Ya know?

➵ Both his parents were alphas, and he was never around omegas consistently enough to learn.

➵and it's not like you were a volleyball that he could use the same techniques to up-keep.

➵ He also couldn't ask his team.

➵ Well, he could, but only one other person on his team had an omega. (It was Satori and his advice, though helpful, could only go so far.)

➵ He was doing good though, especially with you holding his hand through the entire thing.

➵ The first time he noticed something was up was when you didn't show up to lunch-- texting him a picture of you in the library, tongue poking out as you held up a peace sign to assure him you were okay.

➵ When he brought it up to Satori, who had his own omega (A small, but fiery brunette named Yuka) leaning on his side as she played some sort of phone game on his phone (Mama's slusheria? He thinks?) .

➵He explained he didn't know what was going on with you while Satori listened with a hum before giving him a sad smile. "Sorry I can't help you further Ushi-waka, but as you can see-" He slid his unfinished lunch towards Yuka, who popped one of the Dango skewers into her mouth without looking up. "I'm not very familiar with the problem."

➵ He offered his help as much as he could nonetheless.

➵ He slowly began to pick up on smaller things, locking them in his steel trap.

➵ Like a good boy :)

➵ He put hours of research into omegas after this (not that he hadn't previously). Keeping strenuous notes beside him.

➵ They were colorful and highlighted :)

➵ And he followed the advice that 'Mommy Luna-boo' posted on the blog he found like a goddamn Mantra. ('Sometimes Omegas need a little more love! Their bodies, especially during high school years, will change a lot! They may feel a little down! As an alpha, make sure you remind them how beautiful they are!')

➵She was mother Theresa and he was her follower.

➵ Well after he followed you.

➵and after he made sure you were feeling better

___

"Omega?"

"Toshi."

Walking into your dorm room, Wakatoshi set down a small bag filled with goodies. He set it down on your bed as he sat down as well, watching you carefully.

When you gave him a small smile with a quirked brow, he took a deep breath, remembering everything Tendou had coached him through.

"Have you been eating enough lately?"

You sucked your tongue at the question, shuffling your shoulders. Truth be told you had been missing out on a few lunches after noting a few extra pounds you hadn't noticed earlier. You never meant to worry him, that was never your intention, but it seemed the world was working against you. You had no clue where to go from here. If you told him the truth that would do nothing but worry him, but lying was never good in any form of relationship.

Your hesitance to tell him was more than enough though, as his larger lands encased your own, holding them tightly.

"Why?" His tone wasn't accusatory nor was it angry in the slightest. Genuine curious if anything. If he could get to the bottom of the root of the problem, he could prevent it from happening in the future. Right?

"I- I just...Noticed a few extra pounds and-"

"That's it?"

You looked up to him with a tilted head, like a lost puppy. "What do you mean that's it?"

Pulling you closer, Wakatoshi effortlessly pulled you onto his lap, using one hand to dig through the bag beside him while the other wrapped around your hips. He pulled out a few of your favorite snacks laying them out in front of you.

"That's, in my opinion, a silly thing to worry about. If you feel that's a big problem, I can offer my services to you in any way you wish-- whether it be support or as help, it is my job to be there for you." He nuzzled your scent gland, voice rumbling against your shoulders.

You purred in response, leaning back onto your alpha.

Rintaro Suna

➵ Suna is a lot like Akaashi in the sense that he has incredible observational skills as an alpha.

➵ His eyes are like sniper scopes.

➵ The minute something is wrong, he's on it.

➵ Like he looks aloof but he's not.

➵ He had notes.

➵ So hiding something from him is not easy at all.

➵ But you two most likely ended up together because you gave him a run for his money.

➵ You made him work at being an alpha.

➵ And he loved you for that.

➵ It did come back to bite him in the ass though.

➵ The only reason he heard about this was because the betas at Inarizaki were loud mouths.

➵ Honestly he learned so much tea from them.

➵ Like this third year was sleeping with a first year because she planned on baby trapping him and-

➵ It was wild.

➵Though most times it was nothing more than a source of entertainment for you and him to laugh about.

➵This time the gossip was actually useful.

➵ He wasn't thrilled they were talking about you, but provided some very useful information.

➵ And he was set into action.

➵ typing a few things onto his phone he set out to find you.

___

"Rin, I said I'm not hungry-"

"I know and I'm making the executive decision to ignore you."

He squinted his eyes at the carefully written instructions in front of him, sending a silent thanks to Atsumu's mate Haruka. (;)) She had written a step by step instruction sheet to making Onigiri while also dropping off all the ingredients (Pre-prepped). The only reason she didn't make it was because Suna's alpha, no matter how much he trusted her, wouldn't have let it near you.

"Rintato-"

"Look, Y/N. I love you, you know that. You know a lot of things, you're my smart little omega. So you must also know this isn't good, right?" Sliding a plate of, albeit mediocre, onigiri towards you, Rintaro focused his gaze on you.

"You know this, eh?"

You swallowed before grabbing one of the triangles, nibbling on the top in an attempt to appease your alpha. His sharp gaze still focused on you, making you shiver as he rounded around the counter. He turned you around so you were facing him, his hands holding your hips.

"You know this."

You wilted under his expectant gaze, knowing what he wanted from you. "I know this."

He smirked, leaning to take bite from your snack, licking his lips as he did. "Good omega."

"Rintaro that's mine!"

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

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