#Don't remember if I scratched the post I said that already in or posted oh well if yes ya get it twice in the tags

[zoekrystall]

I could rant abt how I hate germany and despise being german but instead of ranting will I just say everytime this awful country shows it stays nazi loving which is very often do I think abt that woman that was very kind to me for the few days I was at that one free hotel room in the short time I was homeless (honestly everyone but the fucking gov workers were sweet to me and I would die for them, never knew how much someone older seeing me as their child would make me want to cry) and said, nicer than I'll paraphrase, "yeah germany sucks I'm going back to my country" and gave me earrings and since then do I think of actually getting them pierced just for her. Was here for prob just a few days and already knew this place sucks.

[xreader-writing]

STILL HERE | "They're eating sushi!'

✦ Sumarry: Y/n comes to her ex-boyfriend Lando Norris' defense when he's being canceled, and Lando couldn't be happier about it.

✦ Pairing: Ex!Lando Norris X Actress!Reader. | Timothee Chalamet? 👀 | ✦ WC: 1.491

A/n: English is not my first language, forgive my spelling mistakes dear.

LAST | S.MASTERLIST | NEXT

Y/n sighed and put her phone in her pocket.

"What happened?" Her castmate Timothee asked, handing her a cup of coffee.

"As if you didn't know." She said laughing, and he smiled back, scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, but it could be another reason!" He said laughing, making her laugh even more.

Timothee looked at her and noticed her worried look.

"I read your text, it must have helped him a lot."

"Yes, but Lando is a little immature sometimes, and that makes things worse." Y/n sighs and runs her hand over her face.

"I wouldn't like being his lawyer." Timothee says making Y/n laugh.

"Thank God you act then, huh?" The two laugh and stay silent for a moment.

"Don't think too much about it, he has to deal with the consequences, I would say you've already done too much for him., none of my ex-girlfriends ever wrote me a cute text like that when I got canceled." Timothee says laughing and Y/n laughs more.

"Oh, poor him." She says, squeezing Timothee's cheek with her free hand.

"But seriously, I bet he's completely crazy about you right now." He says, raising his eyebrows and Y/n rolls her eyes.

"WHERE ARE MY TWO PROTAGONISTS?!" They hear the director yell, and Timothee whimpering covering his face with his hands.

"For the love of God, I just want a break!" he pretends to cry and Y/n rolls her eyes pulling his hand away.

And Timothee was completely right, Lando was checking his phone every 30 seconds to see if there were any messages from his ex-girlfriend.

"Stop checking your fucking phone Lando, her not going to call." Carlos said, patting Lando on the shoulder.

The pilots were all together on a "guys' night", but Lando couldn't keep his head there.

"Yeah, she was really nice to make that Instagram post for you." Charles says sitting next to Lando.

"Sorry, I'm lost." Max says trying to make sense of the matter.

"Didn't you see? They're canceling Lando." Charles says pushing Lando's shoulder.

"He seems pretty happy for someone who's being canceled."

"That's because Y/n made a post on Instagram defending him." Carlos says and Lando smiles as he remembers.

"Y/n? Your ex-girlfriend?" Max asks, still a little confused.

"That's her." "But you don't think she wants to get back with you just because of that, do you?" Pierre says, breaking Lando's smile.

"Why else would she do that?" Lando says a little louder now and Pierre scoffs.

"She might be completely over you, which is why she doesn't feel uncomfortable doing it." He shrugs, irritating Lando.

"That doesn't make sense..."

"Actually, it kind of does." George says thoughtfully.

"Why did you guys break up?" Oscar asks, and Carlos scoffs, taking another sip of his beer.

"I broke up with her." This gets Pierre's attention.

"Why would you do something crazy like that?" Pierre asks, laughing.

"Because... Iwantedtoenjoy." Lando says this so quietly and quickly that the pilots look at each other in doubt.

"You wanted to what?" Chales asks and Lando covers his face with his hands.

"I wanted to have fun, but I couldn't do that if I was dating."

When he finishes, there is silence in the middle of it, and wide eyes towards Lando.

"If you broke up with her, why the fuck do you want to get back together?" Pierre asks indignantly.

"Okay, let me get this straight, you broke up with your girlfriend of two years because you wanted to be with everyone until you caught a sexually transmitted disease?" George says and Carlos laughs.

"No, look, I don't know, I just wanted to have fun, okay?"

"Oh, I would have had a lot of fun if I was dating her." Pierre says laughing, making the others laugh along.

"Fuck you!" He says, getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen to get some water.

"Wait Lando, it was a joke!" Pierre says laughing but Lando gives him the middle finger.

"Was it a joke Pierre?" Charles asks

"No" Pierre says laughing

Lando finds a bottle of water and leans against the counter, drinking it and checking Instagram.

He never unfollowed her, and she never unfollowed him, like she said, they remain friends. In fact, she has always been much more mature than him, and he remembers how she reacted to the breakup like it was yesterday.

—

"It's not you, okay? It's me." Y/n sighs and massages her temple.

"Lando, I know it's not me, and it's okay that you don't want to be with me, I just need to know why, that's all."

"I want to have fun, I want to go out with guys without having to worry about someone else holding me back." Y/n scoffs at that.

"I never stopped you from going out with your friends."

"I know, but you end up getting in my way."

"You end up getting in my way." That's what he said to the woman who put up with him day and night.

"That's right Lando, if I'm just a stone in your way, I better go." Y/n says this with an expression that leaves Lando upside down, Y/n has always been very reserved when it comes to feelings.

"I don't want to lose your friendship Y/n." Lando says as soon as she turns her back. She sighs and looks at him smiling.

"You're not going, you can count on me if you need anything."

And yes, he did and she was there, just like she said she would be.

—

Lando went on Y/n's Instagram for the tenth time that day, maybe to read her text again, or to see if there was a new post or story from her, he doesn't really know.

He just wanted some kind of update, that's all.

He feels his heart beat faster when he sees that there was a new story from her, but before he can press the photo icon, a hand squeezes his shoulder making Lando almost drop his phone.

"Damn Carlos, what a scare." Lando says, dropping the water bottle and putting his hand on his chest.

"You weren't upset, were you? You know how Pierre is." Carlos says, patting Lando on the back.

"I know, I'm just pissed at myself, that's all." Lando says, pressing Y/n's photo icon and immediately regrets it.

"What the FUCK is this?" Lando screams and Carlos snatches the phone out of Lando's hand to look at it too.

"Oh my God, Lando, they're eating sushi!" Carlos can't help but laugh and Lando takes the phone back, looking at those images.

"Fuck! Fuck!"

"I don't know why you're so nervous, she said herself that they were on a break from the movie, besides, you guys aren't even dating anymore." Lando looks at Carlos without answering.

Carlos knew he was a little drunk and stressed, and he knew Lando would have to deal with the consequences even in that state.

Carlos sighs as he hears Lando sniffle.

"I miss her..." He says softly, wiping his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve.

"Oh Lando, come here." Carlos pulls Lando into a tight hug.

"I know you feel that way, but things can still work out, it's not like they're posting pictures on social media or anything." Carlos tries to joke, but Lando lifts his head and walks away from Carlos, fiddling with his phone.

"That's it, I need to go on his social media."

"I didn't say that-"

"Son of a bitch!" Lando yells and Carlos closes his eyes.

"Lando, please-"

"Look at this!" He practically rubs his phone in his friend's face showing a post from Timothee.

Liked by youruser, carlossainz55 and other people

Tchalamet 🫡

@Youruser

—

Youruser 🫡

Tchalamet 🫡

User1 I hope they get together Geez.

User2 I don't know if I want her or him

User3 I think she deserves someone good for her

User4 I hope this movie gets nominated for an Oscar

-

"Why the hell did you like, Carlos?" Lando yells in Carlos' face.

"I liked it? I didn't even notice."

"Yes, you liked it damn it, whose side are you on?" Carlos observes Lando's state, controlling himself not to laugh.

"I'm on her side, for sure."

"This isn't going to stay like this, not at all." Lando starts doing something on his phone and Carlos sighs for the thousandth time in that half hour.

"Don't do anything you might regret later."

"There, it's done!"

"You must be possessed or something."

—

Timothee was looking at his Instagram and raised his eyebrows, surprised by what he saw in his notifications.

landonorris started following you

—

Taglist

@emryb @sltwins @lottalove4evelyn @weekendlusting

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[icarusredwings]

This post may not be suitable for littles or people who get uncomfy with mentions of baby making stuff. IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK THO I SWEAR!!!!

Wade:

Thinking about how much Wade loves babies when he's small.

He's holding Logan's hand down the street as they're running errands, and he's being so good, like SUPER good. Not running away, litsening to instructions, using his words in a way Kitty can understand.

He doesn't even have Fluffy with him either, so he's doing all of this with minimal emotional support, just his chewy star necklace and one of Logans big hoodies. He's in some colorful leggings, though, and in his pocket is nothing but a snack. Not even his cup.

Bro is raw dogging the adult outdoors as his small self with practically nothing. He's still wearing his dog tags, though, just in case he gets lost, they're used as a source of identification.

Ealier, when Wade wanted to pet a stray cat instead of just running off, he gasped and pointed to it. "Kitty!" Which is obviously code for "Look! A cool thing!" So when Logan looked, he saw how polite Wade was behaving.

"Be gentle, okay? Sometimes, they don't like humans." He tells him, carefully walking him over in which Wade just squats down to pet the cat very nicely. You would think 'yeah no duh he wouldn't hurt it,' and you would be correct, though sometimes he pets them too rough or moves too quickly so they get scared and scratch him.

Right now, he's bored, leaning on his shoulder and starting to get fussy because paying bills is boring, and he wants to go home. Chewing on his star, he stops, and his eyes light up, seeing a stoller.

Wade loves strollers. Because where there is a pram- Theres a babe. And babies were great. (Unless they were screaming, and then they were not)

He tugs a bit on Logan, but he's ignored because he's trying to ask the internet service people why they charged them 15 extra this month when nothing changed. "Kitty!" He points, looking at him for consent to go see the baby. Frustrated, confused, and not looking, Logan assumes that he sees another cat and waves a hand. "Yeah, sure. Be gentle."

So, being given the okay, Wade practically skips over to the stroller and crouches down to see a chunky cheeked baby boy. His mum is busy on the phone, so she doesn't even notice a grown man cooing over the child.

Giggling to the baby, he lets him grab his finger and nibble on it. Tickling his cheeks and stuff, you know. Baby stuff. So when he takes off his hood to let the baby play with his necklace, the baby gets upset and starts to cry.

I think we would all cry if we saw a glowy yellow eyed man smiling at us like that with such unfarmiliar skin. You have to remember, babies only know what they're shown, and I doubt it's ever seen anything like this before.

Of course, it cries. And the crying alerts the mom. "Ooh shh, Steven, you're al- Ahh!! Who are you! Get away from my baby, you freak!"

Getting shooed away, he whines, unsure of what he did wrong. Was it bad to play with babies? His head said No.

"What is wrong with you!?"

"I-i... but.." he dosn't know what to say, tries to explain that he didn't do anything bad and that he was sorry but she dosn't seem to care about his words. This is New York afterall. Kids are stolen all the time here.

The yelling, of course, makes Logan think "Great some idiot made the baby cry," only to pause and wonder where Wade went. "OH SHIT that's MY idiot." He thinks and instantly becomes protective, growling as he gives in and throws the extra money at the tiller. Coming outside, he steps in front of Wade. Sure, Wade is a weirdo, but he wouldn't do anything to the baby. Right??

"What's your deal lady!?"

"He tried to take my son!!" She says, assuming the worst.

Logan gives a glance to Wade, who's already crying and shakes his head, unable to get any words out, but "I'm good!" Seeing as various times today, Logan has praised him for behaving. "You're being so good today, kid."

"No he didn't! Now take your ugly pup and get!"

A bit more of arguing, and she finally goes on her way, complaining about New York Weirdos.

After that, he starts asking Wade why he was touching a random baby and honestly just running his mouth that he knows better and shouldn't do that, etc.

Almost instantly, it stops, though, because he's already crying. He lets out this huge sigh. "Fine... Im sorry.. I know you like babies. How about I give you a baby. Would you like that?"

Logan doesn't mean it in the way Wade thinks, obviously, as his eyes widden, sniffling. "You're gonna give me a baby!?"

"Yeah, sure-"

"We're gonna have a baby!!!??"

"WAIT- No! Not like that!"

He squeals and excitedly flaps his hands, continuing to go on about how 'Mommy tried to give him a baby, but it didn't work'

Slapping his hand over his face, he's so embarrassed, blushing all the way down his neck and up his ears. He shakes his head and growls. "SHHH!!! That's not what I meant!! We can't even have a baby moron!" I mean, who wouldn't be embarrassed about their partner OPENLY talking about their past relations in public?

So- He does what every person does when their partner is obsessed with babies by can't have any.

He takes him to the thrift store to pick one out.

[measuredingold]

pretty boy

authors note: hey 🫣 almost a year ago i posted my first bad omens fic onto ao3 called sweet boy and i thought… what better way to celebrate that than to write its sequel ? barely proofread so i apologize for any mistakes btw, getting back into the swing of writing “consistently” so i feel a bit rusty lol ! as always i hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated. :-) sweet boy can be found here.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 3k~

cw/tags: pwp ( porn without plot basically ), p in v ( wrap it up ), established relationship, dom/sub undertones ( sub noah ), 18+ minors do not interact

The faint hum of the television fills the room, volume so low you barely can register what's even being said. You don't mind though because your focus isn't even on whatever episode of The Office that's playing, instead it's focused on the boy laying beside you, long limbs tangled with your own. Legs tangled with yours, an arm draped over your tummy, and head against your chest, you couldn't give a flying fuck about Michael Scott at this very moment.

You hum to yourself, a happy little sound, as your fingers card through his hair, finger nails lightly scratching at his scalp. You feel his chest vibrate against your side, probably making the same happy sounds that you were, and if you could see Noah's face you're sure he's smiling to himself, eyes fluttering shut.

You can't remember the last time you got a moment like this with him, just able to laze around in bed with nowhere to be. Noah wasn't running around or locking himself in his studio - nothing scheduled, nothing due. It was nice to finally be able to breathe with him in your arms again, and it was nice to know he wasn't worried about something for the first time in weeks. Maybe even months.

You let your eyes slip shut as you bask in the moment, fingers never leaving the home they made in Noah's hair. It's almost noon, you think, and you had already eaten breakfast. Maybe a quick nap wouldn't hurt... then you could get up and make some lunch for the two of you, or maybe finish the laundry you started last night. Sleep doesn't come to you, though, because you feel Noah move beside you, lifting his head up to bury against the crook of your neck.

You think nothing of it, even when you feel the ghost of his lips against your skin. You sigh, a happy sound, and by instinct your fingers tug gently at his hair before letting your nails scratch at his scalp again. You feel him whine rather than hear it, feeling the vibrations against your skin as he continues to trail kisses up your neck. Your eyes flutter open at the first roll of his hips against your thigh, and heat swirls in your stomach.

Oh.

So, you’re definitely not about to take a nap.

You thought he had been asleep, and maybe he was on the brink, but you think your little tug woke him up. You gasp quietly when you feel his teeth graze the skin of your neck before another sloppy kiss is pressed there, his hips rolling into your thigh again. You can practically feel him growing harder with every roll, the sweats he's adorning leaving nothing up to the imagination.

With another scratch to his scalp, your fingers tangle in his hair again, tugging much harder than you had moments prior. The force was enough to pull Noah's head back only slightly, inches away from your neck, and the sound he released was so delicious it had you shivering. He grinds against you again, this time with purpose, and you hear a faint hum of your name as he tries to press another kiss along the length of your neck.

"What is it, baby?" You mumble out, voice hoarse from barely speaking today.

Noah doesn't reply in words, instead lets out a few broken noises in response before attaching his lips back to your neck, another desperate roll of his hips against your thigh. You pull his head back again.

"Use your words, Noah."

It's been so long since you've shifted into this dynamic, usually Noah being the one to have the control recently. You loved that you were able to shift back and forth, because sometimes you needed him to be the one under you. Something shifts in his eyes as they widen and his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth, still not saying a word.

You sigh, tugging at his hair once more. "Don't make me ask again."

"Just..." He finally manages to whine out, pupils dilating. "Miss you."

"I'm right here, baby."

"I know, but..." He groans, trying to bury his face back against your neck, hips rolling into your thigh again. "I miss you."

"Hm..." You hum as you card your fingers back through his hair, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him. Your stomach flips at his dilated pupils, big brown eyes staring at you with such need that you physically have to restrain yourself from surging forward and kissing him right then and there. "My poor baby. I can tell you miss me a lot, yeah?"

He nods, a bit too desperately, pressing himself against your thigh again. You bite down on your bottom lip to keep any noises of yours at bay.

"Yeah." He mumbles and his tongue darts out to slide over his bottom lip again, eyes watching you closely. "Miss you. Need you.”

For some reason those words strike a chord within you, your heart clenching beneath your chest at his confession. You couldn't help but get emotional sometimes whenever he gave this part of himself up to you, putting all his trust in your hands. There was a time where that was rare, and in your years spent together, you watched the walls he built around himself slowly come down. There was no better feeling in this world than having his trust, and you would never take it for granted.

You scratch at his scalp again and smile at the way his eyes flutter shut, body shuddering against yours. "You have me, sweet boy."

He whines again, a pathetic sound, and you take the chance to lean forward, lips pressing against his for the first time in hours. The last kiss you shared was innocent, early in the morning when you had made breakfast for the two of you - this was the complete opposite. It was full of need, Noah whimpering into your mouth as your free hand slid between your bodies, pressing against the front of his sweats. His hips cant forward, pressing into your touch, and you couldn't stop yourself from squeezing.

"Shit." He hissed against your lips and you took it upon yourself to slip your hand past the hem of sweats and boxers, letting your fingers wrap around his length.

"Oh." You gasp quietly once you have a firm hold on his cock, thumb brushing over the tip. "All for me?"

He nods quickly, lips brushing against yours as his hips roll into your fist. "Yes. You. All for you."

Pride swells up beneath your chest and your hand strokes up and down his cock a few times. The angle is awkward, and with a very displeased sound from the boy beside you, you let go for just a second to push him onto his back. You roll onto him with ease, hips pressed firmly against his aching cock. He arches up off the bed with a loud noise, and you take a moment to admire the way he looks beneath you.

Cheeks flushed, lips slick and bitten and parted beautifully, brown eyes hooded as he stared up at you. All fucked out, out of his head, and you've barely even started.

"Oh, look at you." You can't help but reach down, swiping your thumb over his bottom lip. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing, hm?"

He nods, a deep groan escaping him as your hips roll over his for a second time. His mouth follows your thumb and before you can pull it away, his lips part. You watch with widened eyes as his lips wrap around your digit, slipping into his mouth with ease and out of curiosity your thumb presses down against his tongue. You feel him hum around it, a delicious sound, and you press harder, further.

"Such a pretty boy... especially with your mouth full." You feel his cock twitch beneath you, the bounce having you sucking in a breath as your hips roll without much thought. "How do you want it, baby? My hands? My mouth?"

You're not sure how you're even making complete sentences, the feeling of his tongue circling around your thumb having your brain feeling like complete mush, but you push through it. This is about him. His brows furrowed and he shakes his head, hands coming up to grip your hips, grinding you down against him again. You gasp.

"Oh. Baby wants me to fuck him?" He nods, whatever noise that leaves him being muffled by your thumb. You slowly pull it away from his mouth, dragging it down his chin. "Words, Noah."

"Yes, please." He breathes out, voice already wrecked. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh." You hush him, grounding your hips into his one more time - nice and slow. "I got you. I'll give you what you want."

You don't waste any time after that, sitting up on your knees to tug your sleep shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. Noah groans beneath you and with the way his cock twitches under your hips you're sure he's more than pleased to see that you wore nothing else underneath. You grin down at him, admiring the way his skin flushed from his chest up to the tips of his ears before leaning down, pressing another kiss to his lips. It doesn’t last long until you're trailing your kisses down his body, trying to taste every part of him that you could.

This was about getting him out of his head and letting him continue to not worry about everything like he typically would. Sometimes when he was home he’d be… sort of a nightmare, fixated on the next song, the next tour, the next merch drop. You didn’t want that. You wanted him relaxed, without a care in the world in that pretty little head of his. Tomorrow he can go back to his worried self, but today… he’s yours, and you’re going to do everything in your power to have your boy feeling like putty once you’re finished with him.

Your fingers hook in the waistband of his sweats and boxers, not wanting to waste anymore time. He was squirming beneath you, becoming impatient, and you’re selfish enough to admit you can’t wait much longer to have him inside of you, either. The thought of his cock had heat shooting straight to your core, and you tugged at his sweats. He immediately got the hint, hips rising off the bed and he helped you shimmy them off his body, discarding them on the floor with the rest of your clothes.

“Pretty boy.” You gasped, eyes widening at the sight of his cock resting against his stomach. You subconsciously lick at your lips, the need for Noah growing more and more by the second, and your fingers hook into your own underwear, sliding them off with haste. “All mine?”

He nods, words being followed by a whine as his eyes watch you toss your underwear to the floor. “All yours.”

You smile in response but can’t help yourself from leaving forward, licking a stride up the base of his cock all the way to the tip. He shudders beneath you, especially when you place feather light kisses around his tip before crawling back up his body.

“Baby…” He groans, hands reaching for you.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me.” You giggle despite your apology, lips finding home against Noah’s yet again. “No more teasing, okay? No more. Promise.”

You pull back and sit up on your knees again, hips shifting over Noah’s. His cock twitches beneath you and you don’t stop the moan that falls from your lips. Your head drops to watch the way his cock slips between your soaked folds, tip nudging against your clit. He shudders again, hands gripping your hips to stop you.

“Wanna…” He takes a deep breath to collect himself, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. “Inside. Wanna be inside. I’ll come if you keep going.”

You giggle, a little breathless, and nod at his words. “Already so worked up? How cute.”

You lift your hips up just slightly as your fingers wrap around him, lining him up with your entrance. You caught his eyes just as you began to sink down on his cock and the sight was... everything. From the way his brows furrowed, his pretty lips parting as you slowly sink further and further, and then the way his body arches the second you bottom out. You gasp, the arch of his body pressing him deeper into you, and your eyes flutter shut at just how deep he was.

"Shit, Noah." You moan out, your current facade breaking for just a moment. “Always feel so fucking good, baby. Oh my god.”

You give yourself just a moment to adjust to his cock, no prep making the stretch burn slightly more than usual - still delicious all the same. With a sigh of pleasure, you rise and slowly drop, the slow drag of his cock making the both of you moan in unison. The hand that was on your hip slid up your body to the back of your neck, pulling you down to him. Your lips slide together messily as you roll your hips into his, picking up speed.

“Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck.” He pants against your mouth, no longer kissing you, too consumed by the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

You sit up again, resting your hands against his chest as you continue your relentless grinding, gasping every so often whenever Noah’s thrusts would meet your own. You knew he was close, so worked up and overwhelmed even before he had gotten inside you. A part of you wants to tease him, get him so close to the edge before stopping completely. You want to see him cry, feel him shake underneath you and hear him beg for you to keep going, but today wasn’t the day for that. No, your poor boy was already there, cock twitching inside you with every roll of your hips, and you weren’t that far behind him either.

“Baby.” He gasped out, fingers digging into your hips as you grounded into him. “Gonna… fuck, ‘m gonna…”

His words get stuck in his throat and you stare down at him in awe, truly captivated at how beautiful he looked beneath you. Skin flushed the perfect shade of pink, brows knitted together and mouth dropped open, the most delicious noises leaving him. You’re not even sure if he even knows what he’s saying at this point, too consumed by you and the way his cock feels buried inside your pussy. You grin lazily down at him, giving another slow, deep roll of your hips, nails digging into his chest.

“Yeah? Gonna what? Use your words, pretty boy.”

“Oh.” It’s a choked sound and you feel his cock twitch inside of you the exact time you clench around him, and you swear his grip on your hips will leave a bruise tomorrow. “Fuck. Gonna come, ‘m gonna come. Please, please, please, baby please.”

“You can come.” You sigh out in pleasure, never stopping the movement of your hips. “Fuck, yes, you can come. So good for me, baby.”

With a few more sporadic thrusts from Noah he stills with a choked sob, cock twitching while he spills inside of you. You moan at the feeling, body shuddering as he fills you up, and it almost pushes you over the edge. Almost. You sit up and let a hand slide to your center, middle and ring fingers rubbing against your aching clit as you continue to ride him. Your body slumps forward the second your orgasm crashes into you, burying your face into Noah’s shoulder as you cry out in ecstasy.

All that was left to be heard in your bedroom was the combination of both yours and Noah’s labored breathing. You stayed still for a moment, catching your breath, and smiled lazily to yourself when you felt his lips brush against the side of your head.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, voice low, and you could tell just how… gone he still truly was. “Needed that.”

“You’re welcome.” You reply just as tired, but your words get drowned out by the soft moan you let out when he shifts under you, reminding you of his now softening cock still buried inside.

“Fuck.” He whimpered next to your ear, obviously sensitive from you still wrapped around him, but made no effort to move just yet.

You pull back to finally stare at him, heat swirling in the pit of your stomach again at just his fucked out he looked. Eyes barely open, the happiest little smile on his lips, cheeks stained with tears that you must’ve missed during your climax. He whimpers again, pathetically at that, when you roll your hips and clench around him one last time, his body shaking under yours.

“Sorry, my love.” You mumble, sitting up fully and then reaching down to wild at his cheeks. “Just look so beautiful like this. Can’t help myself.”

You could easily take him again, and you knew he’d let you, especially with the way his cheeks flush at your compliment. He’d probably let you take him six more times if it meant not parting from you - when he got in this headspace all he ever wanted to be was closecloseclose. Though, instead, you rise on your knees and the two of you groan in unison when his cock slips from you, the mess between your legs becoming very apparent.

“Come on, shower time.”

It takes a second to finally get him out of the bed and into the bathroom, and you knew with the way his eyes were fluttering every five seconds you had about ten minutes before he’d pass out from exhaustion. You speed through the shower and before you know it, you’re back in bed with Noah’s face buried against your chest once again. This time sleep does find you both, and you nap into the afternoon with a grin on your lips and your boy in your arms.

[tsuvvy]

"I thought you wanted a nemesis.."

Pairing: Harley Quinn x platonic batgirl y/n

Summary: Harley Quinn (from her series show) meets Batgirl (y/n), who tries to be her nemesis much like Damian did

Warning: The only name used for you is Batgirl

A/n: I remember finding another person's post that inspired this, but it was a while ago, and I never put a link or anything to it anywhere. So if you are a maker of anything similar pls know I'm not trying to copy without giving credit. I just couldn't find your post 😭🙏

Clayface yelled, catching the attention of Harley. When she turned around, she watched Clayface fall into two, his top half sliding off of his bottom and landing on the floor with a splat. Behind him stood Batgirl with a pretty long dagger.

"Aw, c'mon!" Harley groaned, grabbing her bat from her bag as she blocked a hit from Batgirl. "I'm not gonna fight another kid!" She yelled. Batgirl raised her foot, kicking Harley in the stomach and sending her backwards.

"I thought you wanted a nemesis." Batgirl spoke bluntly.

"Not a kid!" She yelled, "I've already made that clear with Robin! Don't you Batman sidekicks talk?" Harley spoke as she stood up, waving her hand to emphasize what she was saying.

"Yeah, Robin won't stop talking about how you get on his nerves.." Batgirl scratched at her chin as she spoke awkwardly. "Oh! I also wanted to say, your hair is really pretty!"

Harley's mouth fell agape, "really kid? Don't think complimenting me is gonna get you on my nemesis side or whatever.." She crossed her arms. "Let's go, Clayface!" Harley said, turning to walk out at the guy reformed next to her.

"And also!" Harley turned back around to face Batgirl, "I think it's really cool how you finally stood up to the Joker, he was never nice to you.."

Harley stood there for a second before smiling softly. "Thanks, kid."

[cosmal]

you said hurt/comfort? maybe reader always gave to much of themselves in relationships (like they buy a lot of gifts, they’re the first one asking to hang out, stuff like that) and never had as much effort in return (w their ex partner for example idk) and when james (who’s love languages i hc are all) gives as much effort as reader does, and like buys them gift without reason, reader is just crying bc omg someone cares about me

this was really about me lmao i need comfort and very long sorry

pasta

summary no one has ever cooked you dinner before. james fixes that for you.

content james potter x fem!reader

note this req is literally from nov but i wrote it like two months agar and never posted im so sorry. also combined with this! request.

James bursts through your door with a mouthful of apologies already on his tongue.

"Sorry, I tried to knock but my hands were full!" he says breathlessly, holding a ridiculous amount of bags in his hands, mumbling sorry's for scaring you.

You stand at the bottom of your hallway with a hand held to your chest. "You okay? Do you need a hand?"

"Don't move a muscle," he says firmly when he reaches the kitchen bench, heaving his groceries up onto the marble with a groan. You move your hand to your lips to stifle a laugh.

"I don't want to be rude," you move to stand next to him at your kitchen island, "but what are you doing here?" You say it with a softness. He usually calls or messages you before he shows up at your flat.

"We made plans, remember," he says smiling. He kisses you on the side of your head before composing himself, starting to unpack the bags.

"I went to Morrison's and bought a bunch of stuff. Thought I'd cook you dinner." You did make plans, they were your idea. You didn’t expect him to do anything for you, you expected to maybe take him to the park for lunch or something.

"Oh," you say lightly.

You watch as he unpacks. Cloves of garlic, parsley, thickened cream, fettuccine, eggs, and pancetta. It looks like all the helpings for a carbonara. There's a Sara Lee chocolate bavarian sat to the side with frosted ice all over the cardboard that you assume is dessert. You've only been together for a few months and you're yet to have a homecooked meal together.

You're sure you've never had anyone cook you dinner before. Not without a reason or a special occasion. You worry suddenly that you've forgotten an important date.

You hum and smile along as James buzzes around the kitchen with enough energy to power a small country. You fret that you're tamping down his good mood but you're trying to remember your anniversary. And the first time you kissed. The first time you met. For a second you think you've forgotten your birthday.

He says something to you and you crack an uneven smile.

"Sweetheart?" he says again. He stops where he's got the side of his knife pressed into a head of garlic.

You blink. "Sorry, what did you say?'' You try to hide your emotion. Your voice is scratched with dread and you bite down into your lip to stay calm.

"I asked you how your day was," he repeats, setting the knife on his chopping board. He's grated half a block of cheese while you've been stuck in your head. You hope you haven't embarrassed yourself.

"Have I missed something?" you ask, voice drenched in worry. You hide your hands under the kitchen bench where you pick at your nails.

"Hmm?" he hums, eyebrows pinched together.

"You're cooking me dinner," you say, James's confusion worsens, "Is there a special reason?"

"Not really," he shrugs all blasé. This makes it worse. You don't understand.

"Then why..."

"Did you already have plans?" James worries, smile faltering. His confusion warps into something like embarrassment. "Sorry, honey, I didn't even ask."

"No, Jamie, it's not that!" you backtrack, feeling more awful than before. You just feel out of your own depth. "I've just never..."

He moves around the bench to stop where you're sitting on one of your bar stools. Your knees press into his thighs he's so close. "What's the matter?"

You grab his hands before you pick your nails raw. You think about hiding your embarrassment in his chest but decide against it. If you get too close to him you might forget bout the entire reason you're upset. You'd rather it that way but you're sure he wouldn't.

"I've never had someone cook for me," you admit quietly. You warm with a prickling heat and squirm in your rickety bar stool.

"Oh," he says, all sullen. "Well, that won't do."

You look up at him and worry you look pathetic. He cracks a smile and you're sure it's on your behalf. "What?"

"No one ever has cooked for you?" he asks. He's not rubbing in, he sounds shocked

"No," you say. You sound stupid, you're sure you look it too. You want to crawl up into a ball.

"Y/N, I know you've had boyfriends before." He knows about your past relationships and how they weren't the best. But surely they'd at least made you dinner. James overestimates them sorely.

"They never did any of this stuff for me," you sniffle. The first tear is a shock and then James is looking at you all upset and confused and the next one isn't as startling.

He wraps his arms around your back and holds you close to his chest quicker than you can reach to wipe your face. He presses slow and hot kisses into the top of your head and your tears worsen. They're sticky and thick, his cotton shirt catches the brunt of your embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," you mumble with the side of your face smooshed into his firm chest. It's too grounding and your tears don't slow like you wish they would.

"Hey, don't be," he says, smoothing a hand down your trembling back, "You deserve things."

You don't say anything, rubbing your cheek against his shirt. He tuts. "You deserve a relationship with effort, Y/N."

You hiccup. "I've never had someone care about me like you do."

James holds you so close you worry you're hurting him. He turns his head until his cheek is pressed into your hair and takes a breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say and try not to disturb where he's resting on top of you. You like it more than you should. "It's okay."

"It's not."

"It is," you sniffle and pull yourself from his hold. He lets you go though with a hesitance. "It is because now I've got you."

James finally cracks a smile. "Right," he sniffles to compose himself, "right and I'm about to make you the best carbonara of you life."

"I'm excited." You wipe the remnants of your upset from your cheeks and smile wetly.

"Good."

James sets to work. Buzzing around the kitchen after he'd plugged his phone into your sound system. Shuffling the playlist he made a week into your relationship. He sings his heart out, stirring whatever it is he's got going on in the pan.

You sit at the edge of the bench with the biggest smile on your face when he starts to serenade you. Wooden spoon held to his mouth, he sings an awful rendition of Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA. You laugh so hard you think you might be too sick to eat the pasta.

Later on that night when you're too full to move, James slides a box across the table and says, "I also got you this." With the prettiest grin you've ever seen.

You're overwhelmed with love for you to be upset. Your boyfriend is lovely and you think you might be the luckiest girlfriend on the planet.

[riewritten]

so i went to a remote area this weekend for a field work and i cant help but imagine erwin during the ride... like in an interview he said that if given the chance, he would like to live in a remote cabin, right?

LIVING IN THE CABINS OF TROST

ERWIN SMITH X GENDER NEUTRAL READER

TAGS: post-canon, erwin lives agenda, fluff, age-gap (lol rie tell us what we don't know!), love confessions, basically jus wholesome stuff

WORDS: 2k

Trost District’s advanced practice had saved their economy from titan invasion years ago, but sadly not every district in Paradis would like to apply it in consideration to the nobilities. In principle, you’d like to have it implemented in the rest of the island whose pride has long belonged in its rich agricultural resources. To know the bounties of Trost to the fullest, you’ll have to live with them for a month!

Lo and behold, you’ll come across the Erwin Smith as one of the residents. You see, he doesn’t talk much to people, let alone from outsiders, but the villagers love him because of his kindness and intelligence; they’re confident that if there’s someone who could help you the most, it’ll be no other than this man. And, strangely so, Erwin welcomed you with open arms the moment he knew of your research.

He doesn’t want the residents to treat you as an inconvenience so as soon as he learns your university isn’t funding student researchers—which makes you lack the resources to rent a dorm in Trost—he gladly opens the spare room he had built inside his cabin at your disposal.

However, amidst the neat and swift arrangement, you can’t help but be bothered because not only is he so kind for reasons you’re yet to unveil, but you are to live with him! A very handsome middle-aged man who is unreasonably single, especially in a period where people as young as sixteen are already bearing children!

Maybe the sheer change the Paradis had become since the walls collapsed has something to do with it?

However, it isn’t long until you’ve learned that he is none but the very commander who had contributed the most for the freedom of Paradis. He suddenly blurts out over breakfast that he was the 13th Commander back in his prime. The 13th commander of the Scout Regiment. You took history classes really well so you know what the 13th commander has done; it’s just that you never remembered his name because as far as you are concerned, the former commander opted not to publish his name in books and told the historians to ensure every contribution of his comrades would be noted instead. Your teachers spoke of him so highly–indeed, an amalgamation of what a real leader must be. 

The way you started shaking over the coffee and bread Erwin had prepared made him panic, “Oh no, was the coffee too strong for your liking? I'm so sorry.”

And when you eventually cry and utter praises and gratitude for serving the country well, he starts laughing—boisterously so. That was sure a laugh he had never done during his prime. 

He then pats your head, “Well, our efforts have never gone to waste because of smart students like you, no?”

To integrate more with the Trost community, Erwin fetches you to other neighbors using his old car every morning (he bought it for a discounted price at an auction—scratch that, the merchant almost gave it to him because he was a huge fan. Had Erwin been a boastful bastard, he wouldn’t even bother paying for it). He says the ride to another farm takes around half an hour, so you two take your time talking about a lot of things. He turns gloomy whenever the topic of being a commander is talked upon, so you’re always sure to stay with the menial—his favorite areas on his lawn, the things he’d like to do in the future to make his little paradise even better to live in, and more. 

Oh, how badly you yearn for a life like his.

And when late afternoon comes, Erwin would pick you up from the neighborhood so you can accompany him to the wet market approximately an hour away. Erwin usually takes this chance to talk to the merchants because he supplies them his harvest at a low price for extra income (what a strategic and simple man he is!) then you two would restock condiments and other needs in the house that his small farm couldn’t provide. The life Erwin has is surely tiring for you who’s basically raised in a highly urbanized area, but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it especially with his company.

One of the best things he has ever shown you is the tiny river surrounded by giant trees where he takes a bath. The scenery makes you feel like some sort of deity in an urban legend; sun would peak behind the leaves and onto the water, then the water would bounce back its light towards your glimmering eyes—full of adoration at god’s creation. The river is quite cold and sometimes the breeze these trees exude freezes your skin, yet it feels so fresh, so pleasing to look at, and you wouldn’t mind if you’re not accustomed to taking a bath in an open area. No reason to be scared, too, as the singing birds and cicadas keep you company. Not far from here, you could also hear Erwin’s daily wood chopping. Of course, he’s just there, ready to rescue you if you slip on the rocks or some intruder tries to come at you.

One of the best tasks he had entrusted you with (which you asserted to be tasked because you couldn’t fathom not paying him rent) is plucking ripe fruits from his farm. In your hometown, every need comes with money, but here, one could survive with just the gifts of land ripened by their hard work.

“It makes your research more valuable, doesn’t it?” Erwin affirms. “Imagine every citizen in Paradis being able to live a life not based on money once the government appreciates agrarian reforms more, given how rich our country is with natural resources.”

The distance you had with him as he intricately teaches you how to cut fruit from its stem, his appreciation for your principles (which students from the urban area often laugh about), and the way his hands brush against yours while he’s correcting your posture because the way of cutting needs to be precise so the stem could still be capable of bearing another fruit—it all fills your heart with sheer warmth. When night comes and you’re alone in your room, you finally deduce what you feel for him—it’s not just mentorship that you want, or his kindness, or even his farm.

You want him as he is. You want to give back all the help he has given you by loving him with all your heart.

As the research is about to end, you realize that you soon will be bidding him farewell to go back to your hometown, to live a boring university life, to take a bath in the constricted bathroom of your dormitory, and to worry about filling money up your sleeves so you could eat instead of just plucking out leaves and straight up cooking it. It fills your heart with sorrow; you hope you can just stay with him.

On one of your final days in Erwin’s house, you wake up with rain so strong tip taps of water can be heard from the roof towards the wooden floor. Erwin knocks and asks if he could fix it as you eat breakfast but as soon as you open the door for him, you start crying.

“I'm sorry, it happens a lot during rainy days. I should've warned you.” Perhaps he’s thinking that an urban girl like you would deem living in this wooden cabin overwhelming, but it’s rather far from it. “I’m thinking of replacing the roof with cement instead of mere iron strips, but I can only do that when summer comes. you might not be here anymore by that time, though.”

“Can I just live here for good? I don’t want to go,” you wail, the attachment and adoration you have for this new friend flowing through your tears. “I want to live here for good!”

“Because you want to witness the renovation of my roof…?”

“No!”

Erwin is surprised at your sudden rise in tone, but eventually he smiles—he smiles despite not understanding it all, “I’ll consider, but only after you let me fix the hole in your room.”

It took you five minutes of wailing (and Erwin’s gentle taps on your shoulder) before you stepped away from the door and let him in, with which he whispered a small praise, “Good girl. Now come on, eat your breakfast and drink your coffee. We’ll talk after I'm done here.”

His voice sounded so warm, deep, and gentle in that particular remark.

You manage to do what he asked of you, albeit with little hiccups. To be honest, had Erwin lacked the academic knowledge to help you finish your research, your stay in his home would’ve lasted longer. but he’s such a smart man—even on par with your actual research professor—that it even makes you wonder if his parents were formerly part of the academy, too.

When Erwin learns of that fact, he laughs in guilt, “I'm sorry! I admit I got too caught up with your research. You should’ve shooed me away when I got too invasive! Is that why you were crying?”

“No! It’s because I want to stay with you longer!” you cry, albeit impulsively, because you are drenched in cold water as soon as you see Erwin’s surprised face.

Nonetheless, he’s able to compose himself, “Seems like you loved living in Trost, hm? It’s okay, you could visit us here even after your research is—”

“I meant you! I want to stay with you specifically!” 

Oh god, did bathing in the river give you a bravado as strong as Erwin’s? You’re not usually this blunt.

“Why, if it’s fine to ask?” Erwin starts, his face more serious this time around, albeit there’s a tinge of expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

You wouldn’t be able to take this back. You wouldn’t be able to take this back. You wouldn’t be able to take this ba— “Because I like you!”

You wouldn’t be able to take that back!

“Oh god,” you covered your face in embarrassment. “I-I’ll be back! I’m sorry!” then you stand up from your seat and hurry towards the door.

You run to the secluded river to wash your face from embarrassment (or perhaps drown in it for good), but after a throaty scream of shame, you notice a presence behind you.

“E-Erwin!” you screech in surprise. “I told you I’ll be back soon!”

“Repeat what you just said.”

“The what?”

“What you said before running off. Repeat it.” 

“Are you angry?” you weakly mutter.

“What? No! I mean—” the unusual stuttering made Erwin chuckle in defeat. “Please, I just want to hear it again.” 

His soft eyes on the ground, one you couldn’t quite decipher earlier, is much more understandable now. It gave you more courage to admit more, “I said I like you.”

“As a host or…?”

The question almost ruins the mood, and yet you think that’s the most adorable Erwin has been since you’ve known him. All this time you thought of him as someone who knew everything astutely.

“What do you mean ‘as a host?’ I know we have a bit of a generational gap but I’m certain what I said was clear enough!”

He walks closer until you’re centimeters apart, eventually he smiles in realization. Then he cups your cheeks and says, “Finish your research and come back here. you’ll hear my answer by then.”

“Huh?” you scorn, “Why don’t you answer now while I’m still—”

A kiss on your forehead cuts you off. It lasts for ten seconds or so—you know because you started counting it out of fluster. While on it, he rubs his thumb on your cheeks in circular motions. The sensations render you in a haze. As soon as he withdraws, you bury your head on his chest, taking his scent in even though you don’t understand what’s happening.

“What I could offer to you is nothing in comparison to the life ahead of you in Stohess. Do what you must there—submit your research, advocate for your principles until your voice reaches more people, and if by then you still can’t stop thinking of me, by all means, stay by my side for good.”

“How can I be sure that you’re not married the moment I come back?!”

He chuckles, then places your hand on his chest. His forehead bumps on yours, a knowing smile plastered on his lips, and his eyes reeking of adoration. “Because my heart has been yours the moment you set your foot here.”

p lease i encourage everyone to continue this fic for me because as much as i love the prompt i donT HAVE THE TIME TO TURN IT INTO AN ACTUAL THING 😭😭😭 PLEASEDKDKSED

also here's a majestic fan art of idrawr16yt that helped me visualize what a retired-commander-living-in-the-countryside erwin smith would look like

🔖 @xiaotopia @cadenza-damour @rinamars @grimistheangerinmystares @suntizme @onasvigo @inkofteyvat @aeanya @watyousayin @collinnmckinley @frenchdyer | SUBSCRIBE/UNSUBSCRIBE TO MY STORIES

[thewertsearch]

Ask Comp 12/8

@williamjakespeare asked: One of the recent posts concludes that the circumstances around Vriska's god tiering were "so much worse than anything I thought was going to happen" and I'm curious. What exactly did you think was going to happen?

Back before I knew how God Tier ascension worked, my theory was that Vriska's Quest Bed might grant her access to a special dream moon, and that Tavros's presence there might throw some sort of spanner into the works. I wasn't sure what kind of spanner, and my theories were very vague.

Vriska's a huge taskmaster, and I thought she might have given him an instruction that he was unwilling or unable to carry out. Like, maybe she told him to leave her God Tier Moon, and he was unwilling to abandon her to a fate he didn't understand.

I guess I was right. In the end, she did give him an instruction he couldn't carry out.

Anonymous asked: For the kid who was the most vocal about her 'distaste' for their guardian, having Mom be the reason that Rose snaps is actually very sweet, in a sad way. ~DJ

The above line from Rose implies that she had a lot more affection for her mother than she was letting on.

Their relationship was complicated, but if Rose viewed her as a sister, I think there had to have been some camaraderie between the two. We just never saw it on-panel, because the narrative began on the most stressful day of Mom Lalonde's life.

@elkian asked: So, fun fact about that time John joked about rescuing Rose from the Broodfesther Throes and you were going "yes it's a joke BUT IT'S ALSO SERIOUS JOHN!!!": Hussie's author note for that page is almost verbatim your reaction. Homestuck is as serious as it is silly and typically both at once.

Every time Hussie and I share the same thought, a subtle chill runs down my spine.

@gl1tchypyr0 asked: In regards to the thing about LOWAA potentially corrupting Eridan, itd be a little smart to remember what Sollux said in his conversation with Terezi about a prophet has to go blind to earn their stripes or how an angel earns its wings, Sollux states that 'angels are terrible feathery demons that paradox space uses to usher in the end' and Eridan was actually killing them even if he wasn't Supposed to. If you really think about it I actually kinda find it sad? If he was already a troubled individual Before Sgrub and then was on a planet of 'terrible feathery demons' that whisper prophecies in his earfins for an entire month that he was made to feel he Had to kill, honestly it makes me nervous imagining just how many doomed timelines there are where Eridan snapped far earlier. Not to mention the fact he's also on the Blue Team ie Derse players ie most susceptible to waking up in his sleep and seeing tentacles and eyeballs staring back at him (not that he wouldn't be /used to that/ back on alternia with his job of feeding glybgolyb so Feferi wouldn't have to). Not really defending eridan but just, food for thought kinda? About how LOWAA might have affected him enough for Doc Scratch to bring up such a hypothetical. The idea that Eridan was already pretty bad before the inevitable Sgrub trauma and then LOWAA made thinks /worse/.

Oh, don't get it twisted - Eridan's just as much of tragedy as any of the other trolls. He's certainly written to be less sympathetic, but he didn't deserve to be raised in the Alternian Empire. Just like Vriska and Equius, he could have been a much better person, if only he was raised in a less violent and oppressive culture.

Of course, he could still be an asshole if he was born on Earth - but at least he'd have a chance to be better. Alternia stacks the deck against you in ways that simply aren't fair.

@galaxa-13 asked: It is very satisfying watching you pick apart everything Doc Scratch says without playing his game. Rose wishes she could, but unfortunately she is a child and not as smart as she pretends to be. Usually it's fun to watch people theorize because of what they don't know, so it's extra fun when someone as smart as you doesn't have the pieces I already do. Just chortling to myself, "Oh ho ho, just you wait!" @elkian asked: I may have sent this before but I ADORE your Doc Scratch dissertations. What few liveblogs (and fandom during/after the run) I've followed have other strengths and focuses, so these moments where you stop everything to shred his dialogue to see if fhere's even a GRAIN of truth are novel and absolutely fascinating. I think you've done the most thorough analyses of any 1 of his convos let alone all of them and I'm here for it. Rip that shady motherfucker apart! :D

Despite myself, I am enjoying puzzling out the true meaning of what he says. I've just got to remember that he is fully capable of lying.

I do think, on balance, that there is some hidden meaning to his words - it's just hard to find. His '50% chance of ascending' statement is definitely foreshadowing something, I just can't figure out what. I think it has something to do with the reboot session, but I'm waiting to learn more about the reboot before I really start theorizing about it.

Anonymous asked: In case the 7 Gates haven’t been fully explained yet — the Gates over a player’s house are all either entry (transport to somewhere on their planet) or exit (destination of a gate on the planet of the previous player in the chain). Using John as example: Build to gate 1, which takes him somewhere on LOWAS. Find gate 2 elsewhere on LOWAS, this will take him to the matching gate over Rose’s house — build up to her gate 3, which will lead to somewhere on LOLAR, then find the planet’s gate 4, etc.

Here's my old interpretation of the Gate system, from way back in Act 4. I'm fully in agreement with you about John's path here - the problem is that when you use it to extrapolate Rose's path, things start to fall apart.

See, this ordering method implies that in a four-player chain, your own Seventh Gate is located on the Land preceding yours, rather than your own. This means that Rose's Seventh Gate is the one that got John killed on LOWAS - the one which leads to his Denizen. It additionally implies that John's Seventh Gate should have been on Jade's Land instead. It's all very confusing.

Anonymous asked: Something I love about how this god-tier immortality system is described, however it works, is that "remaining neutral" will PROBABLY keep you alive… but when you think about it, remaining neutral means not making a REAL DIFFERENCE. As a God, if you want to make a difference in the world around you -- good or bad -- you have to be willing to stake your life on it.

True! It's an interesting balancing mechanism, where each God Tier has to decide whether their life is more valuable than their personal agency. Gods who avoid Heroic and Just situations are almost invincible, but they're also completely ineffectual.

I'd obviously try to game the system somehow, but the vague, subjective definitions of Heroic and Just make this a difficult system to game.

@spyril4132 asked: with the reveal of the heroic-just system, there's now a reason you might not want to god tier immediately: sacrificing one of your selves for a heroic cause and then doing what aradia did (but intentionally)

Good point. Although, I'm not sure I'd want to rely on the Quest Slab for my resurrection - at least, not yet. We don't really know the rules are, and how they differ from normal Quest Bed rules.

Anonymous asked: "I don't really care if Paradox Space sanctions his actions - he needs to be taken down, and if that upsets the natural order, then it's time for a new natural order." i think you for sure lean more lifeways on the life/doom player axis lol. oh, the laws of the multiverse say death is inevitable? well, that fucking sucks and i hate it, so i'm gonna wedge myself into the cracks and loopholes and *make* it evitable one day at a goddamn time, life finds a way motherfucker.

Life finds a way, motherfucker!

I actually find both Life and Doom fairly interesting, as Aspects go. I think, at this point, I'm committed to giving one to my kidsona, and the other to my trollsona.

If another Aspect ends up catching my eye, we'll have to start workshopping a Carapaciansona!

Anonymous asked: I think you got it kinda twisted what's going on with Rose. Yes she is slightly corrupted by the Horrorterrors powers/boons and Scratch's… Sheer Existence. But in her mind, she's doing this to Save her session, so if she does go God Tier and gets killed, her death wouldn't be Just, it would probably be Heroic. As she probably would've died tryong to save her session, which would cancel out the corruption from Scratch and Horrorterrors. Either way she still dies, but it's the difference in Why she dies that's important. […]

See, this is the whole problem, isn't it? These terms are incredibly subjective.

I personally think Rose's attempt to save her session is extremely Heroic - but Skaia couldn't possibly approve of her assault on the game, so I don't think it would cancel out her Horrorterror corruption. Sburb itself is probably the last word on what qualifies as a Just death, so I think that's what she'd get tagged as, if she died as a God Tier in the Green Sun's explosion.

I'm also not sure if getting tagged as Heroic would cancel out a Just tag. They're not necessarily opposites - Vriska, for example, is designed to have a controversial alignment, and could easily die in a way that counts as both.

@ben-guy asked: Small correction, you referred to the Alternian empire as "intergalactic" when it only exists within one galaxy as far as I'm aware. Yes, kind of a silly nitpick, and one that I could be wrong about, but I happen to enjoy thinking about the comparative scale of space faring societies lol. If there is a quote contradicting that, I'd like to see it! Pretty sure it's merely a galactic empire tho :)

Nah, that's fair - that's the kind of nitpick I'd point out, too.

Galaxy, singular. I think I parsed the Empire as intergalactic because massively faster-than-light travel is clearly possible in this setting, via time manipulation. We don't actually know if Alternia had access to time manipulation before Sgrub - but Earth seemingly did, so who knows?

@abacusdictator asked: Found your liveblog a few days ago and furiously binged it. Happy to find another Homestuck liveblog! Especially one I can see happen in-progress! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

Thanks - and you're certainly coming in at an interesting time!

Anonymous asked: Scratch "chooses not to lie," but he also has the privileged position of knowing in advance that Rose will misunderstand what the Scratch is, leading to her doing what he wants. If he knew that not lying wouldn't get him what he wants, or even if he didn't know for certain that it would, would he lie? If so, that basically means it's pointless to try to figure out his true meanings, because if you succeed, he'll have retroactively lied about it anyway.

Yeah, this is pretty much my take.

Does it really matter if he 'doesn't lie' if he can foresee all the truths that will mislead you? When you're playing at his level, the actual truth of your statements barely matters.

@skelekingfeddy asked: to my knowledge this has never been commented on by hussie, but i feel like doc scratch doesnt lie in part because he was made from the cueball. its a fortune telling device that predicts the future with remarkable precision and accuracy. you wouldnt expect it to lie, would you? its just that the difference between scratch and the cueball is that he can pick and choose WHICH truths to reveal at which moments. (his penchant for jokes thus probably comes from cal (‘haa haa hee hee hoo hoo’) i feel like him never lying is also a way to feed his own ego. its a self-imposed(!!!!) restriction, and yet despite it he effortlessly plays everyone like fiddles. and he KNOWS it. he CHOOSES never to lie. he VOLUNTARILY hands the people he manipulates an advantage on a goddamn silver platter, and he STILL wins. ‘Isn't it funny how during our various matches, I can tell you what my moves will be in advance, and still win?’ hes so fucking smug. what a pompous dipshit. i love him Anonymous asked: I think that when Scratch say he don't lie, he mean it, and not because of some vilainous valor but out of sheer ego. Scratch is prideful, he love beating other by "playing with cards face up" and tricking them with exact word, he doesn't tell the truth because it's "honorable", he tell the truth because he doesn't need to lie to win.

Also, this. He's just a smug fuck.

Do we know for sure if the cueball is always truthful, actually? Scratch heavily implies it here, but he's only stating it as a hypothetical.

Anonymous asked: Scratch is like a fae, he doesn't lie but you better watch out how he word what he say.

I'd be so screwed against the fae. Not because I couldn't parse their statements, but because I'm only halfway competent with human social customs, let alone weird alien ones.

@manorinthewoods asked: Honestly, I think it's great for his character if Scratch is actually completely dead of emotion inside, possibly even thoughts, and is just near-mindlessly carrying out the necessary parts of his role in the story so that his desired outcome is achieved. He's omniscient, he doesn't need to think. On the other hand, he does seem to have experienced genuine emotion, on occasions… ~LOSS (24/7/24)

A pseudo-omniscient character, mindlessly following the optimal path to their ultimate goal? This smells suspiciously like a Certified Contessa Moment...

Anonymous asked: In the trolls game all the trolls got to see and speak to their lusi after they died because they put them in the sprites. Meaning Gamzees dad coming back wouldn’t get him sober. Ideally Gamzee would be able to interact with his dad way more then he ever had in the past because his dad now had to guid him as his sprite.

Fair point. Although, we know that prototyping tends to affect your personality, and shifts your priorities towards guiding your Player through the game.

Goatsprite's sprite knowledge might have informed him that Gamzee needed to be on Sopor Slime, or game would become unwinnable.

@heliotropopause asked: "Well, no! That’s the problem! The cueball’s omniscience is completely redundant, because the MEOW code already contains an omniscience gene! According to the Scratch loredump, any ‘intelligent’ host for the MEOW code will be granted near-omniscience. Scratch didn’t need the cueball," I think it's worth considering the what exactly he meant with that- it seems perfectly plausible that the teleportation-based powerset established for bequerel would make an intelligent agent very good at observation, either by physically hopping around, or by teleporting light around to see distant places, or by sending out telekinetic "feelers"; we know bec has the capability to separately manipulate individual objects in physical contact from afar. None of this would give him knowledge of the future, or of physically disjoint spaces like the human session, so the cueball is not at all redundant.

It's possible. See, this is another situation where we're really being hampered by our small sample size. We've only seen two First Guardians, and only one of them has been a 'standard' First Guardian, unaltered by HONK. As such, we don't really know how First Guardian clairvoyance is supposed to function.

Another Guardian with human-level intelligence is desperately needed, for science. It's almost enough to make me want the Scratched Guardian of Earth to be made from a human...

@manorinthewoods asked: As an alternative explanation for the double-omniscience problem, one could say that the cueball, in being used to create Scratch, retroactively and conceptually gained his omniscience - so effectively, any use of a cueball allows you to attune to Scratch's awareness (as long as he's alive, perhaps?). This would subsequently imply that First Guardians are all linked to their components - for instance, there would be some link between Bec and all dogs, or specifically Halley. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

As this ask points out, I might just be drawing the causal arrows in the wrong direction. If the cueball is omniscient because of Scratch, rather than the other way round, then there's really only one root cause for his clairvoyance.

I'm not sure why it would work like that, but I do like the idea of Colonel Sassacre running around the early 1900s with a suspiciously powerful dog.

@manorinthewoods asked: The link between 'Skaia's final gate of defense' and 'first to find Alternia' is something I just didn't notice (because I didn't really pay attention to the words and botched my experience by not watching the Flashes), but it would imply, to me, that the gates run in reverse order, Skaia to World - first meteor in, last meteor out. This would mean that the moon which dropped on Jade was the last meteor to hit […]Skaia. ~LOSS (23/7/24)

Hey, good catch!

Jade's meteor was the last to arrive on Earth. By this logic, wouldn't it have been the first thing to leave the session, rather than the last?

That makes a sort of sense, actually. A meteor this enormous would dwarf the entire Incipisphere, so the game would probably want it out of the picture as soon as possible.

@manorinthewoods asked: You seem to have run with the interpretation that all First Guardians run on the same fundamental genetic code, identical to MEOW but using different letters. Not really how I thought of it - I interpret that every FG's code is different, although I also didn't think too hard about the FGs. No reason that they'd necessarily all have to have the same genetic code - after all, Bec's a dog and Scratch's a Scratch. You'd only really need a single gene to code for Green Sun powers… ~LOSS (23/7/24)

It does say they share a genetic sequence, rather than an entire genome. Becquerel presumably contains some dog DNA - the 'host' - which is absent in Scratch, so their genome can't be identical.

Unlike Becquerel, Scratch's hosts were entirely synthetic. They didn't have DNA - which, to me, implies that his entire genome is just an amalgamation of the BR8K H34DS T1CK T0CK HONK sequences. His DNA is just the First Guardian sequence, plus whatever is in HONK.

...what the hell is in HONK, then? If it's DNA, it has to come from some living thing, and I have a horrible feeling that Gamzee spliced his own DNA into the sequence. Why else would he call it HONK?

@skelekingfeddy asked: ‘…the fucking bow-tie! He’s wearing Cal’s Alternian clothes! The proof’s been staring us in the face this entire time, and we were none the wiser!’ look at what regular cal is wearing underneath his blue ‘CAL’ shirt :)

My guy's been pulling the long con.

@morganwick asked: "#but now that i have an antimatter pellet I can feed it to my bees. they can create nuclear waste honey without all the fission rigmarole" Minecraft, Sollux style. (Or maybe Minecraft, Problem Sleuth style?)

Sollux would be a Productive Bees specialist, wouldn't he? That, alongside every computer mod in existence.

@elkian asked: Sorry if I'm the 80th person to mention this but Vriska's 8r8k could also refer to the act of shooting the cue ball at the group of pool balls at the start of a game, known as a "break". @ben-guy asked: Fun fact: In pool terms, the "8r8k" actually refers to the opening shot that sends all the balls flying everywhere. Additional fun fact: The game of pool has a history of being used as a metaphor for causality, which lends some interesting metaphorical weight to Doc Scratch as a cue ball.

Oh, that's true - pool balls are often used as an analogy when talking about causality. Surprising that that's never occurred to me before.

I like to think that when the Felt storm a rival gang's lair as a group, they call their maneuver The Break.

@manorinthewoods asked: Oh my god, Aradia uses Jack to go to the Green Sun. That's such a cool detail. It's so fast, I didn't even see it. To be fair, although the timing is ridiculously impressive, Aradia is both a god and specifically a god of time. Although it's never stated, perfect timing is an obvious power for Time God Tiers to have, which does mean that Aradia would be a half-Flechette. ~LOSS (18/7/24)

And Kanaya's a fashion designer, too. Aradia x Kanaya when?

Anonymous asked: Hey, unfortunately the reqs list link seems to be janked out on my mobile client so I hope this is ok but if you haven't already heard of it I highly highly reccomend Jon Bois' 17776: What Football Will Look Like In the Future It's about football in the same sort of way that homestuck is about video games

Love that story - and I still have to read the sequel, actually!

Anonymous asked: Forwarding another question from the person without a Tumblr account: ~DJ. [I think the change in Equis and Nepeta's behavior is explained by "being together and solving problems together for a long time was great for Equius' and Nepeta's relationship" and "the destruction of Alternia helped Equius realize some facets of Alternian culture he believed where false" (because unlike Eridan he is able to change his mind about stuff like this). - RM]

I really want to see what Equius and Nepeta got up to for a month, as well as all the other trolls. It'd be great to get an 'untold stories of Homestuck' anthology at some point - and hopefully, that's something we'll see in some of Homestuck's tie-in media.

Anonymous asked: I’ve been thinking about Bec prototyping himself and I think I’ve got an answer that works for me - not necessarily the whole answer or the only answer, but I think it’s got something. Basically, Bec knows he can’t / shouldn’t get rid of the meteor entirely (he came down in a meteor that built the frog ruins, so even if we’re just going off what he’s experienced we can say that he probably on some level understands that these meteors landing is important) but he also understands he doesn’t have the type of power or the finesse with that power to only delay it until Jade can take the shot. After all, he could’ve just teleported the living room junk to a different part of the house, but he sent it into deep space because his doggy brain can only deal in absolutes when it comes to perceived danger to his best friend, and the only power we’ve seen First Guardians use (to my recollection) that would in any way help with slowing the meteor is teleportation. He can’t reliably teleport it back only far enough that it will keep falling, but won’t yet land, and he doesn’t have anything else at his disposal - except becoming a sprite, who we’ve seen use beam attacks, which allows Bec to push the meteor back as a delaying measure. Don’t know if he knew it would help so specifically, but even so, I can see Bec understanding it as the only option he has that isn’t either ‘send thing as far away as possible’ or ‘let thing squish most beloved person’. I do think the weakest parts of this theory are What Bec Understands, but puzzling through that devilbeast’s thoughts is hardly a new impossibility. If nothing else, we can all understand that he did this to save Jade, because he loves her, and we love him for that. -Megido (am a new anon, just spent the past couple days catching up and have enjoyed this liveblog immensely)

I think this theory is a good one, and Hussie's comments support it.

The meteor needed to be destroyed in a very specific way for the timeline to retain its integrity, and Bec should instinctively know that, born from Sburb as he is.

Anonymous asked: There are three lenses I think you can view troll romance through: the Xenopsychology lens, the Propaganda lens, and the Parody lens. The Xenopsychology lens is that trolls do in fact experience alien emotions which cannot be felt by humans. It's not just that troll society chooses to categorize the same types of feelings and relationships that humans have differently; these are genuinely unique and original emotions, like a new color that a human couldn't imagine. Describing kismesissitude as hatemance or rivalry or abuse, or moirallegiance as bromance or besties or queer platonic partnership, or auspisticism as third wheeling or mom friending or refereeing are all fundamentally incorrect, because there is no human analogue. You can take this a step further and say that matespritship is also fundamentally different from human romance, even if it appears similar. Therefore all attempts to analyze or write troll romance should be forays into xenofiction, attempting to understand things within a nonhuman framework. The Propaganda lens is that actually troll emotions aren't really any different than human ones, but the quadrant system benefits the hemocasteist militaristic empire by keeping trolls divided enough to become either fucked up killers or submissive victims by the time they reach maturity, but have the minimum support structure needed to actually reach maturity. Kismesissitude is fundamentally unhealthy, auspisticism serves as a counterbalance to keep everyone from killing each other, and moirallegiance serves to prevent trolls from having multiple close friendships or from being fully open with their matesprit by arbitrarily sequestering who it’s appropriate to have certain positive interactions with. None of this is really romance except the one that’s analogous to human romance, but trolls are raised to buy into the system under threat of death. It’s hard to form community and contemplate uprising if everyone confines the meaningful relationships in their life to like 4-5 other people, half of which are based on negative interactions. Also it’s a commentary on how human rules about love and relationships and where the platonic ends and romantic or sexual starts are socially enforced rather than wholly natural and can be arbitrary and unhealthy. Anonymous asked: The Parody lens is that this is all Hussie making fun of fandom shipping tropes. All sufficiently devoted rivalries are actually romantic love. All sufficiently strong friendships are actually romantic love. These two are so hopelessly oblivious to the fact that they actually want to get with the guy they hate, or that the other person they think just wants to be friends actually feels the same way, they need a third party to push them together. (Okay this one doesn’t work because auspisticism seems to basically be the opposite of that? Maybe auspisticism is supposed to be like, contrived elimination of competing romantic options to assure an OTP. Idk if anyone really knows what auspisticism is supposed to be, least of all Hussie.) Also because this was early 2010’s Hussie, there’s maybe a certain level on which trolls being societally obliged to polyamory and bisexuality is also making fun of shippers, although if it was I think Hussie turned around pretty quickly to actually being cool about it. Much like how light is a wave, and a particle, and a ray, all of these are true at different times. This is because the nature of Hussie's writing is that even when things are serious business, they are also jokes. And this is also why the Homestuck fandom will never agree on the correct way to understand and depict the quadrants.

Great breakdown. As you could probably predict, I lean a lot more towards the Propaganda lens, with a healthy dose of Parody mixed in.

The Xenopsychology lens isn't necessarily untrue - it's just that, as I've discussed before, the trolls read as extremely human to me. I honestly believe that if you raised a human on Alternia, they'd probably be compelled to form the same quadrants as everyone else.

I once got an ask stating that, according to Hussie, each of the quadrants are meant to be exaggerated versions of human relationship dynamics. I'd really like to check out that full quote, so if anyone's got a link, send it my way!

[yuyu1024]

Cherry lips

Pairings: San x Y/N

Genre/tags: idol dating, au, establish relationship

Warning: 🔞 a little smut, cursing, sensual touching, making out, pet name, fluff too

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: just random drabble again. I made these a few days ago or probably a week ago.. but just posted now coz i forgot..? 😂

Also side note.....Adulting life is hard 🥲 hehe

Struggggling hahah anyways Have a nice day and night to everyone.

Brb.

***

San messaged you, saying he's not feeling well today. So after finishing your work, you hurriedly commuted to get to his dorm so you could check on him and see if he needs anything.

"Huh? Y/N, what are you doing here on a friday?" Seonghwa asks, surprised to see you standing at their front door.

"How's Sannie?" You ask

"Ahhh...." he chuckles. "He's in his room... acting like a baby." He moves yo the side, gesturing you to come in. "He already ate. Mingi cooked him a soup dish to make him feel a bit better."

"Does he have a fever?"

Seonghwa shakes his head, "He's a lot much better now. He has been deligent taking his medicines, drinking water and eating well."

You sigh a big relief. "Thank goodness..."

"He just finished showering and going back to bed to watch a movie... he is basically okay now actually.. so I'm not sure why he asked you to come?" Seonghwa says scratching his head.

"What else? San probably wants some cuddles from Y/N...and get babied even more." Mingi says as he comes out of his room. "He even asked for a hug from me yesterday when I gave him his food..." he chuckles remembering how San acts.

"Probably..." you agree.

"If you two get hungry... There is food in the fridge. I cooked something for lunch earlier... just heat it up." Mingi says as he ties his shoes. "Imma go to the studio... so..."

"Be safe... you and manager." Seonghwa says

"Bye!" You wave to Mingi.

And as soon as Mingi is out

"I'll be in my room and watch a kdrama... I'll put my speaker on... and if I do get out I'll put my headset."

You title your head to the side. "Why? What for?"

Laughing softly, "We all know how San is... when he asks for you..."

You suddenly felt your cheeks heat up from what Seonghwa just said. "Oh dear!" You cover your face.

"Don't worry... We don't judge... it's part of human nature and..."

"Does that mean... you guys could hear... oh dear!" You panic

"Yah... don't worry about it... we don't really hear it all out..  probably just once time... and we learned from it."

"Oh God!" Your cheeks and ears are totally red now.

Seonghwa pats you at the back. "Sorry... I should've not said anything..."

Shyly looking at Seonghwa. "No it's fine... if ever... hmmm... we.... well... I'll try to tell him to be more quiet... and.. me too..."

"Cute." Seonghwa pinches your cheek.

Caressing your cheek after Hwa pinches you. "I'll go and check on Sannie..." you say

"Okay... I'll go and make myself busy now." He scoffs before turning his back.

You waited for Seonghwa to totally shut his door before you march towards the opposite direction, where San's room is.

"San?" You call as you knock lightly.

No answer. It's quiet.

"Sannie...?" You twist the doorknob and slowly push it open. "Sannie??" You whisper while your head is slightly tilted to take a peek if he's there. "Hmm... maybe he's asleep..."

You slide one foot first and then the rest follows. You are very cautious, trying your very best to not make any loud noise that could wake your boyfriend.

Scanning the whole room, you see that the room looks okay, nothing to clean so far. The TV is on but with a very low volumn that you barely hear it.

'He must've forgot to turn it off or probably fell asleep without him noticing' you say to yourself as you carefully walk further more in and look for the remote to turn it off.

"What are you doing?"

You screach a bit loud the second you hear someone talk just as you turned off the TV, making the room completely dark.

"I've missed you."

It's San.

"Fuck! You scared me!" You're heart is beating out of your chest.

"I can feel it..." he sounds amused by you getting scared. "You're heart is beating so fast..." he have you in his embrace from your back. "Sorry if I scared you... I was just waiting for you to get close..." he sniffs you by the neck. "I didn't thought that you'll turn off the TV..."

"Well... me too...I didn't noticed that your mini light weren't open... now it's completely dark."

"Just turn on the TV again so we can see..." he snuggles onto you more while he wrap his arm around your torse. "You're wearing a blouse?" He asks as he let his hands feel your top.

"I came straight from work..." you say. "I was so worried about you when I read your message..."

"Sorry if I got you worried..." his slides two of his fingers between the gap of your buttoned up blouse. "Mingi and Seonghwa took care of me well... but the reason why I did texted you still is  because.. I miss you..." his fingers gently touches your breast. "I miss you so bad." He breathes in your scent from your nape

"I miss you too..." you take his other free hand and kisses his knuckle. "You're schedule have been hectic and I got bit busy too..."

"I'm free tomorrow and on sunday..." he hums, brushing his lips all over your exposed neck. "Stay with me..." he breathe the words as he turns your head towards him so he could kiss you. "Your lipgloss... taste like cherry..." you could hear him smile as he pulls away from the kiss

"Sannie... I need light... I want to see you..."

"You do?" He suddenly lets you go

"Hey!" You try to catch on and grab him as he moves away but you lost balance and fell off the bed. "Aw!!" Your knee hit the frame of the bed.

"Baby!" San panics and hurriesly switches on the soft light from the side of his bed.

You are wearing a black skirt with a slit on the side. And the expose knee hit the edge of the bed real hard.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yeah..." you are holding on to your knee. "It will be fine... though I'm sure I'll get a bruise..."

"Baby... I'm sorry." San grabs your face and kisses you on the lips and then on both cheeks.

"Hey... I hurt my knee...not my lips..." you chuckle.

A smile spreads across his lips and his cute dimple showing. "Please... stay..." Then he goes to kiss you again making you smile.

"Okay... But..." you raise your index finger and taps the tip of his nose. "No sex..."

"What? Why???" He pouts

"Well... unless we're not alone." You sit down and suddenly remember how embarassed you felt earlier. "Just... I don't want them to hear us..."

"But they already did..."

"You know?!?"

"Baby, how can they not? We are loud... what do you expect?"

"Fuck!" You fall down on his bed, face down. "No! I didn't want them to hear." You mumble over his duvet.

"Baby..."

You suddenly got up. "No... control yourself okay? No sex... until we are completely alone."

"You're saying that but your face shows you are not happy with what you're trying to implement." San burts to a laugh looking at your troubled expression

"Fuck! I miss you too and of course... I nee-- no... I wan--- no..." you are trying to breathe in and breathe out. "No... I'm here to cuddle and take care of you. We can play games and watch movies... to divert ourselve."

"Whatever you say, baby." San leans in and kisses you on the lips again. "I'll do whatever you say..." he hums those words like he's testing if you will break seconds into your pep talk.

"Don't lure me, Sannie. You already opened my blouse... yes... but no..." you smile into the kiss...

"I can try again later." He then pinches your cheek as he pulls away from the kiss. "I love you."

[mahs-dumpster]

A glimpse of the future

a/n: I'm at my aunt's house with nothing to do so I'm just doing random stuff on my phone to pass the time; I remembered I wrote this a while ago so I might as well post it

cw: uhhh idk man mentions of future children?? Is that a warning. I guess if u don't have patience for children maybe. Oh and oc x canon (Daisy x Ruggie), also like suuuuuuper self indulgent like it's kinda cringe low-key

words: 2k+

When Ruggie felt two small hand tugging on his pants, he wasn't expecting to turn and find someone so similar yet so different from the Ramshackle prefect, let alone a child. Her eyes were the exact same color and shape as Daisy’s, but her smile was different, more mischievous, something the prefect, due to her sweet personality, could never pull off.

“Papa, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” The kid said, her small arms hugging his legs tightly and Ruggie stopped on his tracks.

I’m sorry, what?

“Uh… kiddo, I think you're mistaking me with your dad.” He tried to clear the misunderstanding up, his hand lightly touching her head as his ears twitched nervously. “Do you know where your mama or papa are so I can–”

“I'm not mistaken!” The little girl said, her nose wrinkling exactly like Daisy’s. It was almost freaky the amount of similarities the two had. “I was so scared, I couldn't find you or mama, but now I finally found you!”

Ruggie’s eyes twitched. He looked at her one more time and, granted, she was, in fact, a hyena beastwoman, but there was absolutely no way that was his child. He was 17 for goodness sake, and trust him if anything at all happened between him and Daisy he would remember. 

Great, now he’s blushing at the thought.

The boy sighs and crouches down, holding his groceries on one hand and the other fixing the small girl’s hair – same shade as his – as if it was instinct. 

“Kid, what's your name?”

“Magnolia Bucchi.”

Ruggie stopped his hand, taking it off of the girl's hair. What. 

“Do you know who I am?”

“You're Ruggie Bucchi, my dad!” She smiled again, a bit to the side, exactly like his smile. 

What the actual heck was going on??

“Ruggie.” Ruggie flinched at the sound of the prefect’s voice. She was walking towards him and holding Grim on one hand and a bag of her own groceries on another. Upon seeing the kid, she smiled softly, letting Grim jump off her arms as she crouched down beside Ruggie, taking a good look at the girl's face. “And who would be your little friend? She looks so much like you.”

“What?”

“Yeah, look!” Magnolia didn't care about the girl touching her nose lightly, in fact, she giggled happily at it. “This little cutie has your nose, and your ears–” she played with the small child’s ears and she giggled again, Ruggie’s heart melted at the sight of them playing. “–and she has your smile. What's your name, sweetheart?”

“Mama, why are you and papa playing such a mean game?” Magnolia complained, crossing her little arms as her ears went down. She was starting to get genuinely upset. “You already know, I’m Magnolia Bucchi!”

“Wh– mama?” 

“You have a child?” Grim asked in shock as Daisy denied it, saying she had no idea what was going on. As soon as she heard Ruggie groan beside her, her attention moved to him.

“I-is she someone from your family? L-like a distant cousin or–”

“No, no. My only family is my granny.” Ruggie looked between her and the child, as he tried to settle his heartbeat. “I don't know what's going on but this kid looks scarily similar to… well…” he struggled to say, scratching his neck as his cheeks went pink. “Us.”

Daisy felt her face getting warm as she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. The kid just stared at them both in confusion.

“I already said. You're my papa.” Magnolia pointed towards Ruggie, making his ears shot up in surprise, despite already hearing that. “And you're my mama.” She pointed at Daisy, making her stutter as she tried to deny it. “Ruggie and Daisy Bucchi.”

“Daisy Bu– w-wait, hold on–” Daisy waved her hands in front of Magnolia, extremely embarrassed, but Ruggie just touched her shoulder lightly and moved his head.

“Let's just… bring her to school for now. We don't know what's going on so let's stay close to her for the time being.”

He got up, offering his free hand for the child to grab, which she happily did, asking for Daisy to give her her other hand. The blonde got up and gave the small child her hand, nervously, as she tried to ignore Grim’s complaints about not being able to stay in her arms all the way back to NRC.

Ruggie had so many questions.

•••

“Here sweetheart.” Now at Ramshackle, Daisy finally came back from the kitchen holding two hot chocolates, giving one to Magnolia and another to Grim. The two happily got their drinks, stopping their little playtime for a moment. Ruggie looked at Daisy judgingly, asking why there wasn't a drink for him, and she explained saying he wasn't a cute kid nor a cute cat. “Now, could you explain this situation again? If you don't mind?”

“What do you mean, mama?” Daisy wanted to correct her, as the word ‘mama’ made her embarrassed, but she assumed that it made the girl happy, so there was no reason to tell her to stop. 

“We wanna know how you're here, kiddo. I mean…” Ruggie glanced at the blonde beside him, clearing his throat. “Me and Daisy here aren't together, so if you're really our cub there must be an explanation, right?”

“You two are not together?” Magnolia’s expression changed to sadness, her eyes shifting between both of them. Grim stopped drinking and said a small ‘oh-uh’, imagining the kid would cry at any second now. “Do you not love each other?”

“That is–” 

“Well–”

Both of them stopped, their eyes meeting for a moment, before Daisy was the first to give up, looking at her lap as she fidgeted her fingers and felt her face heat up. Ruggie let out a small smile upon seeing her reaction, his own cheeks slightly red.

“I… really like Daisy, kiddo.”

“You do?” Magnolia asked, and Daisy looked at him for a moment. He wasn't really saying he loved her, but he guessed a kid wouldn't really understand the difference if he said he liked her. 

Plus, there was no way he was going to confess in this situation.

“M-me too. I am quite fond of Ruggie.”

“Oh…” Magnolia let out a small smile, her expression back to being cheerful. 

“Now, could you explain again? You said you were looking for your papa, did you lose hi– I mean, me?”

“Yeah… I was playing hide and seek with Kyra in the castle–” Ruggie nearly had a heart attack at the word ‘castle’, Daisy needing to put her hand on his shoulder so he’d act natural and not alarm the kid. “Suddenly, I saw this huge light! I was scared at first but I ran towards it and once I opened my eyes I wasn't at the castle anymore!” She explained, moving her hands to express herself. By that time, Grim had already finished his drink, deciding to get out of his chair and onto Daisy’s lap. 

“Honey, which castle?”

“Uncle Leona's castle.”

“Leona’s castle??” Ruggie’s eyes went wide. He sensed a headache coming from the new information, but took a deep breath. “Alright… this Kyra, who are they?”

“Oh, you must remember her, silly!” Magnolia let out the sweetest laugh both of them had ever heard. “She's uncle Leona's child and my best friend.”

“That big annoying cat has a child too?? Since when??” Grim said, earning a ‘shh’ from Daisy.

Daisy sighed herself as she tried calming her friend down. “Ok, so you passed through a light and suddenly you were here? Is that it?”

“Yeah! I don't know what happened…”

“Well, maybe it was a portal.” Daisy simply said. “I’m not from this world either, maybe there's portals that open up to other… time frames.” She explained, but decided against looking at Ruggie’s direction. “Maggie, are you certain that we’re your parents?”

“Duh!” She confidently said, a smile to her face.

“Well… there we have it.” The blonde chuckled and Ruggie rested his head on his hands, groaning. Daisy put on a hand on his back, asking if he was alright.

“I'm fine, it's just–” he looked at her and at his… daughter? He guessed? “We have to send her back to wherever she came from. None of us can handle raising a child at our age.” 

“I mean, she could be fun. A mini hench-human.” Grim joked and Ruggie glared at him. He rolled his eyes and rested his head again on Daisy’s lap. “Tough crowd huh…”

“I agree but… I'll talk to the headmage about this, maybe even with Mr. Trein. She’ll stay here at Ramshackle with me until we find a way to get her home.”

“What? You're gonna take all that burden on yourself?” He asks, a bit in shock. “Absolutely not, this kid’s half my responsibility. She's staying at Savanaclaw with me for at least some days… just gotta figure out a way to bribe– I mean, convince Leona.” 

Daisy chuckled and smiled softly at him, Ruggie suddenly felt at ease, like this crazy situation could be easily solved in the blink of an eye if she was there with him.

“Thank you. But you don't have to, there's plenty of rooms here at Ramshackle and it's just me, Grimmy and the ghosts.” She explains. “I think it's less troublesome to let her stay here with me.”

Ruggie stared at her for a moment, he then looked at Magnolia and made up his mind.

“Then I'll be staying here too.”

“What?”

“I can't let you take care of her all by yourself, but it’d be troublesome for her to stay at Savanaclaw, so I'll just sleep here for a few days until she's sent back home.” he explained, then he looked at the kid who seemed to be a bit confused, and asked her: “would you like that? To stay here with me and Daisy for a while?” Magnolia nodded, a big grin on her face, so Ruggie looked at the blonde beside him. “No excuses.”

Daisy seemed a bit nervous. Ruggie? Staying at Ramshackle for who knows how long? She could barely hold it together around him on campus, now she has to act all natural at Ramshackle as if she didn't have any feelings for him? And taking care of a child who proclaimed to be their own?

She would have white hairs before she reached 20…

“Mama, can I sleep in you guys’ room?” The kid happily asked after finishing her drink, giving the cup to Daisy and saying a small ‘thank you for the drink'. What a polite little girl.

“Oh. Well, uh… Grimmy, you wouldn't mind another little one sleeping with us, would you?”

“I mean if there's no other option… but she better not be pulling on my tail or something while asleep.” The cat-like monster said, crossing his little paws as he frowned at the girl who simply laughed, talking about how funny Grim was. 

“Alright… I’ll go talk to the headmage and Leona. Keep watching her until I come back, ‘kay?” Ruggie said, already getting up, his groceries at hand. Daisy nodded, a smile on her face as she started petting the kid’s head.

“Okay. Take your time.” 

As Ruggie nodded and began walking towards the door, the little girl eyed both of them in confusion, a small frown on her face, not comprehending why they were being so strange.

“Papa!” Maggie called and Ruggie stopped in his tracks, looking at the small hyena that was currently looking at him with a confused expression. “You forgot Mama's kiss goodbye!”

They both froze, and Grim held in a laugh, knowing what was about to ensue was gonna be gold. 

“S-sweetheart, Ruggie really needs to go quickly at th–”

“But he always makes sure to kiss you goodbye… one day he forgot and you got super upset the entire day!” Daisy’s face went a deep shade of red as she went to cover it so they wouldn't be able to see it. This girl…! She was going to make her so embarrassed her entire stay there, she just knew it!

Ruggie on the other hand let out a laugh at what Magnolia said. What? Whatever other version of Daisy got upset because his counterpart forgot to kiss her goodbye? That was the most hilarious — and endearing — thing he had ever heard.

“S-stop laughing, you…!” Daisy tried, but knew nothing she could say would stop this situation from being anything else other than a nightmare… she sighed, looking away from the boy in hopes he'd just leave already. “J-just go, you have stuff to do…” 

Ruggie looked at the child, a small frown on her cute little face, waiting for him to do something, then looked at the embarrassed girl sitting on the couch. He really couldn't believe he was doing this, but…

“I don't think I can leave.” He said, making his way up to the blonde and stopping right in front of her. She looked up at him and tilted her head in confusion; his hand slowly cupped her cheek as her eyes widened and Ruggie chuckled. “I don't want you upset now, do I?”

Quickly, he kissed her forehead. His lips were warm against her skin and Maggie made a small squeal of joy as Grim rolled his eyes at the display of affection. Ruggie separated himself from her and looked aside, a dumb smile on his face as a pink hue started spreading to his own cheeks. Daisy held in her breath the entire time.

“Well, I’ll… be back in a few. Take care.” 

[epickiya722]

So, I just read a posts about how some male anime/manga characters that are loved will be hated if they were female. And it got me thinking. What do you think will happen if Gojo, Sukuna or Bakugou were female characters (with the same power and same personality), will they be hated? For me, yes they will be hated. But, the same can't be said for Yuuji or Midoriya. Like, for me, even if their characters were female, somehow, I think will be loved... But what do you think?

Oooooh, I feel like there would be some mixed reactions with some of these characters. No, scratch that, all of these characters.

I'm tackling the MHA characters first.

With both Bakugou and Midoriya, I feel like the treatment they have now would relatively be the same, but there would be changes. Especially, depending on the type of fans.

Now, for sure, there would be people dragging Katsuki through the mud and cursing his name even if he had been a girl.

Remember, female characters aren't allowed to have flaws! If they do, somehow they're the worst person in existence! (Sarcasm, by the way, for anyone who thinks I think this of female characters. Like, some of you are quick to change the narrative of what someone is trying to say.)

But then at the same time, you can't tell me there would be people just being down bad for him had Bakugou been a girl. Like "Oh, I can change her", "oh, I want a girl who can dominate me like she can". If Maki gets the the "mommy" treatment from certain fans for simply being a girl with muscles and can kick ass, hands down Bakugou would, too.

Now with Midoriya, I feel like people would "tolerate" him a little more. There have been people who haven't even seen MHA, like actively watched or read it, and jumped on the train of "Midoriya is annoying because he cries a lot" and outright hate it because he is a boy. Had Midoriya been a girl? Oh, more people would have flocked to "Oh, she's so cute when she cries" and because "she's a girl, she's supposed to cry".

And you know how, especially during earlier years, Midoriya would get that "I need to be saved, I am a damsel" treatment? Who know the fic where he has to be saved Todoroki or someone else by Bakugou? Oh. That would come tenfold had Midoriya been a girl. Hell, with the ending, people who wanted Uraraka to be a wife so bad who definitely want the same for Midoriya.

They would ignore that, in this case, this girl isn't all fragile and can fight. Midoriya is a wild card and feral, and that would totally been ignored by the fandom. "She's too cute to not be a wife."

Well, Miss Midoriya has the goal to be a hero and help people, thank you very much!

Now onwards to the JJK characters.

Okay, with Gojo and Sukuna... yeah, I can see them being hated. People would hate, hate, hate to see women acting the way they do. Bashed left and right.

Know how Gojo has a complicated life? How he was practically born to be some trophy to show off and a weapon to be used? None of which is his fault?

Yeah, the fandom would just throw that out the window. Female characters don't get sympathy from some of these fans. Gojo would be reduced to nothing but "alpha rich bitch" status. (Which, now that it's hitting me, Gojo doesn't throw around his wealth like that. Sometimes I forget he is rich because he doesn't bring up money a lot. Or, shoot, at all.)

I can already seeing the fandom not taking their foot off a female Sukuna. Evil women are like the bane of some of these people's existence. The fandom already can't handle a complex, obviously meant to be judged female character like Mei Mei. (I get why she's hated, before anyone gets a hissy fit.)

Female Sukuna's saving grace would be her hotness. But that's taking a gamble given that most of the story Sukuna possesses Yuji's body.

A character that the fandom acts as if isn't allowed to be a main character. I agree that Yuji would be a little bit more loved as a girl, but I also feel like some people wouldn't still take to Yuji.

Some already hate him, yes, hate him because he's "boring". (I still don't understand those people and I don't want to. I'll leave it at that.) Had he been a girl... oooh, boy. I can't even begin to put into words.

Maybe Yuji being a girl would flock in more fans if everything was kept the same. And I mean everything. As in fans would immediately clock in his... well, her taste in women and that probably would be one of the few things that people would constantly talk about. That and her fighting skills.

Yuji as a girl would get the Maki treatment, hands down. "Oh, she's so hot when she's kicking ass! What's that? Trauma? Terrible family? I could look at more to her character than her looks and how badass she can be? Yeah, no, I'm not going to do that. She is only there for me to look and fantasize over for the role I assigned for her to the point she's practically a whole other character."

You know, all these characters would get that treatment. They get it even now sometimes.

Like, Sukuna would still be hated because he's evil and whatever other reasons, but he would still have his fans. Some people are fans of him because he just so happen to be that great of a character for them.

Same for Yuji, Gojo, Midoriya and Bakugou.

Male or female, boy or girl, man or woman, non-binary, genderfluid... no matter what these characters identify as, it's a winning and losing situation for them.

What changes would be how the fandom chooses to view that particular character.

Personally, for me, I would still like these characters for what they are.

While a character can be interesting because their gender can play a role into their story or maybe that kind of character isn't often seen in a specific gender, that character also shouldn't just be appealing because of and only their gender.

Sometimes, a character's gender just so happen to be a normal trait just as much as their hair color is.

It just sucks that a character's gender is what determines for some people if they'll love or hate that character.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

monster - haegeum, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: Mafia boss Min Yoongi. Bodyguard Jeon Jungkook. And the weapon. The monster. The violent creation of the shadow king. You.

--

please, read the following.

As you can see, this is not the story. This is your warning. Only this post should be tagged / reblogged and not the actual post. This is intentional.

Some of you have read the 'monster' AU. The 'monster' AU is based off the world within the Daechwita MV. It was also written back then, in 2020. What many of you don't know is that the three parts on this blog (part i | part ii | part iii) are only some of the sex scenes of a much larger story. Mhm. I have never posted 'monster' in full anywhere. It would be misconstrued and misunderstood too easily. It is not for unprepared souls.

The gist of the story is that black-haired mafia boss Min Yoongi wants to kill the blond-haired Mad King, and he does.

I often get requests to revisit this AU.

My original intent was to not write anything more. I thought about taking the posts down at one point, as they are technically parts to an incomplete story I will never publish on here. Eventually, I decided to just let it be. People enjoy guilty pleasures. As long as you have your head straight and know this isn't real.

If there was any time to revisit these three, well, it would be after the release of Haegeum, wouldn't it?

Again, this is your warning. The following is not for the faint of heart. I am not holding back. If you click forward, that means you have read the following warnings below and you still wish to proceed. You know what you are getting yourself into. This is violence. This is insanity. This is 'monster' and there is no redeeming them.

Remember, everything is fiction. Read the disclaimer in my masterpost.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; premeditated killing and mass death with all three contributing; graphic descriptions of murder; blood; gun + knife violence; arson > explosion; thievery (money); mentions of reader placed in solitary confinement as punishment; physical abuse; sociopathic and manipulative behaviors; intense smut (fem reader, threesome, unprotected penetrative sex [reader is medically sterile], restrained [arms pinned down], choking with leather collar and with hand, heavy bite / scratching / bruising, stimulation to climax with the handle of a switchblade and said closed switchblade inserted into reader's vagina; reader being spit on and licked degradingly; cum-covered switchblade and later fingers in JK's mouth by Yoongi; standing sex, standing doggy, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, m-masturbation onto reader's face); non-idol!AU - mafiaaboss!AgustD!Yoongi (long black-haired Daechwita/Haegeum AU), longhaired!tattooed!bodyguard!Jungkook; mercenary!reader; m/m tension between them; JK has a praise kink; you have a pain kink

-

This is after the death of the Mad King.

Now, Min Yoongi has all of South Korea within his clutches, puppeteering the dirty money that goes in and out of this country. The underground ruler of the inhumane ruthlessly takes out anyone that is stupid enough to step forward and challenge his rule. Oh, they will always come, their greed tempted by the prosperous forbidden fruit flourishing in the darkness. Foolishly thinking, ah, but who could stop me? After all, no one knows who the shadow king really is – not until they are already locked within the fangs of death.

--

by proceeding, you are verifying that you have read all warnings.

--

masterpost

[mayuichi]

“Darling, I'm home.„

Kazuha Kaedehara x Reader. Warnings: somehow angst, mention of self harm and suicide

Do not read if it makes you uncomfortable, I'll post more fics in the future without those!

Note: the few next posts will be repost and rework over the fictions i first wrote on wattpad (around a year or two ago), and i felt bad to not bring them here. but i need to rework on some first bc theyre cringe now... and i can only focus on that and not create new one since my health isnt getting any better for now

Official art from Hoyoverse.

It's a bright and sunny day. You're at the Kamisato Estate. You're used to come here now, especially whenever you aren't feeling too well. The scenery is so peaceful it calms even your noisy mind. And today? It's one of these days.

Unfortunately for you, Thoma is away with Ayaka, and Ayato is busy inside. You wouldn't believe the Kamisato siblings would be avalaible for you, after all, would you?

Sitting on the bench, you look up to the sky. You sigh, pulling up your sleeves. When did it all started? And why did you even started it ? Do you remember? All you know is you've done it too much by now. And it isn't the soft cuts anymore.

They're so deep. Even if it ends up healing, if you ever succeed in not opening them again, you'll always have their marks on your arms. But who can you share your burdens to?

Everyone in town loves you, yes, thanks to your business. You're nice and sweet, you wouldn't even hurt a fly. You always seem so confident and sure of yourself. No one could believe you need help.

Whenever you'd see your body, you only feel ugliness. Who wouldn't? It's decorated with scars. On your arms, legs, even on your hips.

Yes, you do have some friends. First, the Kamisato siblings. Even in the nations you already visited. You even managed to have a somehow beginning of friendship with Scaramouche.

So why can't you at least be truly happy? Why can't you be normal once again? Something within you hate to see them hanging together, getting along so well. Is it jealousy perhaps?

“Of course not. I can't be jealous over something so stupid.„ yet, why can't you believe your own words? You sigh. You know since the beginning in what you engaged yourself. She's just your boyfriend's boss. It's thank to her he can live the life he wants and be able to come back every once in a while with you.

Your eyes become teary as the doubts fill your mind. Does he love you? His life is one of sailing, so why did he returned your feelings if he can't be here?

Just this morning, your short blade grazed against your skin, making new scratches. And you just hide them under your sleeves once more. It's time for you to head home.

On your way home, you're lost in your thoughts. Doubts and self loathe fill your mind to the point you don't even notice Ayaka and Thoma coming back from their business. They had to stop you to be able to strike a conversation.

“Oh, dear... Are you alright? You seem pale...„ Ayaka reaches out to brush her fingers against your cheek, her eyes filled with worry. “Oh no.. It's alright. I just need some rest.„ you fake a faint smile.

“If you need, I'm sure my lords wouldn't mind lending you a room for tonight.„ Thoma's gaze softens. He knows that as long as you don't bother neither of them, you would be able to stay. But you dismiss his words. “I appreciate it but... He comes home today..„

You feel your heart pounding at your words. It's true. That's also one of the reason for your emotional distress. After a month, he finally comes back. And your stress couldn't be higher.

Muttering an apology, you hurry home. It isn't luxurious or too spacious, but it's alright. It's more than enough for you.

When you thought your anxiety couldn't become worst, is when it proves you were wrong. You expected him to be already home, but he isn't. You're there, alone. Walking to the calendar, you sigh. “He said he'd come back today...„

You know it's probably just the ship taking more time than what was planned. But your self destructive thoughts never take rest. The voice in your head keeps the same old speech as always. That he's with her, and he's going to leave you.

What could you do now? Beside wait, nothing could be done. Your shoulders dropping in defeat, you silently sit on the couch, staring at the floor.

Three hours passed. Three hours doing nothing more than staring around and overthinking. In the end, you believe he just left without warning you. And just as you're about to give in your despair, you hear a door, and that familiar voice.

“Darling, I'm home.„ you want to get up and jump in his arms, but your body doesn't answer your command. You're so happy he's here, and yet... Tears sting in your eyes. Why are you crying now? He's here, with you. Do you even know if it's tears of joy or not?

His footsteps creep closer, until his head peeks through the doorframe. “Are you home?„ his eyes land on you. He stares at you. Seeing your shoulders shuddering, hearing broken sobs, he's quick to come next to you.

“Love... Are you crying?„ you don't answer. How could you when your voice doesn't want to come out of your throat? He sits down next to you, carefully slipping an arm around your shoulders, his other hand resting on your thigh to caress it in a comforting gesture.

He doesn't pressure you. He knows better than to force you. So he waits until you speak by yourself. “Why... Why am I so hideous..?„ he doesn't say anything. He lets you go on hating yourself for now. He doesn't even know what to do or say exactly, but if just listening can help you, he'd do it.

You rent about everything, not even caring about anything. Your insecurities, your fears, your doubts, even your self harm. He doesn't mention any of that. It's when you finish speaking that he says one thing.

“... Can you let me treat your wounds?„ he doesn't even wait for your answer. He stands up to get some bandages and alcohol to disinfect. You wince at the slight pain, and he tells you to hang in there.

He clearly has no idea how to comfort you, so he then places down the alcohol and bandages, gently wrapping his arms around you.

“I know I sail a lot. That worries you too, but I promise you there isn't a single day I do not think of you. You know that Beidou is nothing more than a friend, and you're the only one in my eyes. I'd never trade you for anyone better, because no one can be better.„

His words make your eyes light up slightly. It's stupid, but just that makes you feel better. Knowing he looks at you so highly. You lean against him, head resting against his chest. His hand caresses your back in gentle stroke.

“As for your... self harm issues. We can work through it together. You can tell me anything, I'd never judge. Just, don't keep it for yourself. You can lean on me whenever you need.„

He chuckles as your eyes stay on him. He kisses your forehead, taking the blanket on the other side of the couch to place it over you.

“You'll get better, and I'll be here along the way for you. We're going to overcome that together. Perhaps I could make you join me for the next sailing with Beidou?„

And just this way, you stayed in his arms for the rest of the evening, and night. What a great way to finish a stressful day.

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not copy, repost or translate without permission.

[nofomogirl]

Before the Beginning (part 1.5.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.2. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4. |

Part 2.1. | Part 2.2. | Part 2.3. | Part 2.4. |

In this post, I'm going to wrap part 1 up and I won't lie, I'm really nervous. I feel like I've made a tall and wobbly tower of blocks and now I need to make something coherent out of it. Make all this rambling have a point.

Plus, I'll need to talk about Final Fifteen, and that's inherently nerve-wracking.

You say I've already written about it? Whole 9 posts about Metatron's manipulation, picking it apart step by step? Yes, I did. But that's the point - it was about Metatron. I skipped the worst part - the last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley.

I couldn't avoid it forever. Let's scratch and poke at that wound.

Fair warning though: there won't be any stark revelations. I'm just processing things by writing about them.

Let's start with some facts. These are all hard canon:

Crowley used to be an angel

Aziraphale used to know him back then

They both remember it, at least partly

The Fall transformed Crowley

And these are not canonical facts, but relatively safe guesses:

They don't talk about it

Crowley avoids thinking about it

Aziraphale has no clue how Crowley feels about it

Honestly, it appears that Crowley's pre-Fall identity is more of a taboo for him than the Fall itself. Sure, the Fall is still a sore topic, and he doesn't exactly discuss it, but he is talking about it, if only a little bit, and on some occasions he even brings it up himself. But when his angelic past is mentioned he just refuses to go there. He shuts it down on the spot with no regard for the circumstances.

This exact happened in Final Fifteen, except this time Aziraphale wasn't just pointing out Crowley used to be an angel, he also suggested Crowley may become an angel.

Just look at the dialogue, especially Crowley's responses.

M: (...) it might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status. C: He said what? A: He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer. C: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then? A: Not at all. C: Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not rejoining their team. Neither should you.

A lot of people pointed out how they were talking past each other the whole scene, not really hearing what the other was saying. I wholeheartedly agree and I think it started right here, with Crowley refusing to acknowledge and address what Aziraphale had said and ever so subtly - most likely unconsciously - steering the conversation away from the topic and into the miscommunication storm.

I mean, just look at what happened. In slow motion.

Metatron offered Aziraphale the job of the supreme archangel.

Aziraphale said No, I don't want to.

Metatron then altered the offer and said if Aziraphale took the job, he could turn Crowley back into an angel.

Problems start here.

S3 may change my mind but right now I am convinced Aziraphale doesn't really understand what the Fall was. He doesn't understand what it was objectively, and he doesn't understand what it means to Crowley personally. This is why Metatron's offer seems so attractive to him. He sees only pros and no cons. He cannot fathom what could be undesirable about it.

Metatron, on the other hand, knows much much more. That's why he feels safe making this seemingly generous offer - he knows it will cost him nothing because Crowley won't take it. Not only that, he knows the mere mention will trigger Crowley, and make him irrational. That in turn will upset and trigger Aziraphale thus making him more vulnerable and easier to manipulate.

Back to the scene.

Aziraphale goes to Crowley and reiterates Metatron's offer to him. He tells him that if he takes it, Crowley can be an angel again.

Now this is the important part. How does Crowley respond to it?

He immediately gets angry. Not amusingly annoyed or endearingly peeved, but properly angry.

And then he goes on a rant about why he and Aziraphale shouldn't rejoin their old sides. And that's... not entirely relevant.

For quite some time I couldn't figure out why Aziraphale's "Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys" didn't upset me as much as it logically should. Sure, I'm Aziraphale's defender and apologist but this line is objectively unfair to Crowley. I should be disappointed and frustrated. So why would I feel like I wanted to agree with it, even though my brain clearly didn't?

Then it finally clicked. It wasn't what Aziraphale said, especially not the "you're the bad guys" part. It was about his tone. I could relate viscerally to how ridiculous he found Crowley's argument to be. Because honestly Crowley, baby, what are you talking about? What do you think you're proving to your angel here? How is the offer you were made to go back to Hell even remotely comparable?

Sure, they appear to be almost the same on the surface. Beelzebub told Crowley he could go back to Hell, and become a Duke. Metatron told Aziraphale he could go back to Heaven and become a Supreme Archangel. But that similarity disappears if - unlike Crowley - you don't conveniently take bits and pieces out of context but look at the whole thing.

Beelzebub's offer was that if Crowley helped them find Gabriel he would be allowed to go back to Hell and become a Duke. Metatron's offer was that if Aziraphale returned to Heaven and became the Supreme Archangel, he would be able to make Crowley an angel.

Rejoining his old side (with a promotion) was meant to be a prize for Crowley, but a price for Aziraphale.

Both of our ineffable spouses love Earth and given the absolute freedom of choice, they would like to live there forever. Preferably undisturbed by any supernatural institution in any way. I don't think anybody doubts that. Leaving Earth and getting involved with their former sides - no matter the rank - was the exact opposite of that, the exact opposite of what either of them wanted.

Crowley was offered that undesirable thing as a reward, so obviously he said no.

Aziraphale was offered that undesirable thing as a part of a package deal which also contained something he perceived as highly desirable, so obviously he considered it.

But Crowley reacted as if Metatron's offer was the same as Beelzebub's offer. As if it was all about Aziraphale being invited back to Heaven. He focuses on trying to convince the angel not to go, on explaining how Heaven isn't good at all, and finally on confessing and offering to run away together. He tries everything except responding to the actual offer and simply saying he doesn't want to be an angel.

I believe the main reason was what I listed among the safe guesses - that it was too difficult to talk or even think about. So he focused on the other part instead. It came easily because (a) anything that wasn't thinking about himself as an angel was great at the moment, and (b) the idea of Aziraphale leaning toward Heaven yet again was something he had strong feelings and opinions about.

Sadly, Aziraphale helped him steer the conversation away from the point with his response. The infamous "you're the bad guys. But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth. Of Light. Of Good."

I believe that was a point of no return beyond which the whole situation couldn't be saved. Not right then and there. Not without both of them stepping away and calming down. But somebody made sure they wouldn't be able to do it...

And the worst part is, I don't think there was all that much faith behind Aziraphale's words. I firmly believe he honestly wasn't interested in taking Metatron's offer unless Crowley went with him. But as he got unbalanced he fell into old mental grooves.

If you don't mind, I'll stop here. I neither have it in me to break apart the entire conversation (perhaps I'll face this monster one day but no promises) nor is it necessary for this series of posts.

The point of which - in case you've forgotten, which I, admittedly, made very easy for you - is that (1) Crowley was substantially transformed by the Fall, (2) he does not identify with his past angelic persona and is pretty much unable to think about himself in those terms, (3) Aziraphale severely underestimates the depth of the transformation, (4) has very little knowledge and understanding about Crowley's feelings on the entire matter, and (5) it let him to making a lot of assumptions.

Another thing I am not going to discuss here is what Aziraphale thinks he's offering Crowley. Perhaps the subject will get its turn one day. For now, suffice it to say, that what Aziraphale is offering - or rather what Metatron has offered - is most definitely NOT what Aziraphale believes it to be.

In the opening post, I pointed out that angel!Crowley didn't have any visible serpentine traits (he had brown eyes with regular round irises and he didn't have his sigil/tattoo), and I proposed a theory that it's supposed to hint at a lack of serpentine nature. That Crowley wasn't originally a snake but became one during or after the Fall.

If we look at Aziraphale's offer through these lenses, Crowley's unyielding rejection of it takes on a whole different meaning. It isn't about principles anymore or about Crowley's feelings getting hurt or his worth possibly being questioned. It isn't symbolic. It's very real.

The offer to restore Crowley to full angelic status very likely means a repetition of the Fall - a painful transformation that mangles the spirit and alters parts of a person beyond repair.

The offer to make Crowley an angel may very well mean the eradication of snake!Crowley.

I don't believe Aziraphale understands it.

Crowley couldn't bear thinking about it so he never talked about it.

Thus concludes part 1.

I am very emotionally tired.

Thank you for reading.

[sporco-filth]

Slob City - Part 5

Judging by my poll from a while ago, quite a few people have been looking forward to the continuation of Lee's adventures in Slob City.

Synopsis: Lee is invited to join Bob to dinner at a local restaurant.

(also this is my 200th post so that's cool. hopefully there'll be many to come)

Lee was lying on the couch for his afternoon nap when the doorbell rang. "Guh?" he jolted up, spilling a half-eaten bag of popcorn that had been lying on his stomach. He got up, scratching his bum and yawning. He didn't remember ordering any food, so who could be at the door? He walked over and pulled it open. There in the hallway was Bob. "Oh, what's up?" he asked. "Nothing much," Bob replied. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner. I know a really great place that's just across the street." Lee felt his stomach gurgle at the mention of food. "Sure, I'll just get dressed." Bob scratched his head, puzzled. "But you're already dressed." Lee looked down at his clothes. He was dressed in a white singlet stained with a glob of sauce from when he ate a pizza a few nights before, his lower half was covered only by a pair of dark grey briefs he was wearing for the third time without washing and on his feet he just had a pair of socks. "I can't go out like this," Lee said. "I mean, I look so disheveled and indecent!" "I don't think I know what those words mean, but you look fine to me. Come on!" Not letting Lee say another word, Bob (who himself was wearing only a filthy pair of holey pyjama pants) pulled him out. "If we don't get there quick enough they might run out of all the good stuff!"

Downstairs, on the street, Lee spotted the restaurant in question. He could feel the grease even from this distance. He went ahead to cross the road. "Where are you going?" Bob asked, fishing out a key from his pocket. "My car's here." "But… we can just walk." Bob looked at him like he had suggested they walk through burning coals and into a pit of sharks. Lee decided it was better not to argue and went over to Bob's vehicle. The inside was incredibly comfortable, the chairs in particular were massive and so soft, but the whole interior was filled with trash, the handles sticky with sugary and oily residues and there was a pervading scent of stale farts.

Bob pulled out from the curb, did a U-turn and parked in an empty spot right outside the restaurant. "Here we are," Bob said, getting out. "Velma's, one of my favourite joints in the city. I choose to buy my apartment almost entirely to be right outside it." The two stepped inside and were greeted by a waiter dressed in a t-shirt that exposed his gut and ill-fitting tracksuit pants. "Velma! Bob's here!" he yelled out towards the kitchen. A woman poked out, dressed in an apron that looked like it had never seen the inside of a washing machine and which strained against her burgeoning belly. Upon seeing Bob she smiled and came to say hello. "If it isn't my most loyal customer!" she gave him a hug, still holding a wooden spoon in one hand. "And who's this you've got with you?" She gave Lee a look up and down. "He looks like he's about to fade away!" Lee was suddenly aware, despite the fat slowly building on his frame, he was the thinnest person in the room by a wide margin. He felt oddly embarrassed. "I'm Lee," he said, smiling. "Bob's talked this place up, so I'm looking forward to tasting your food." "I bet he has!" Velma smiled at Bob. She stuck the spoon down the back of her skirt and scratched her arse with it. "Don't worry! It'll be a meal you won't forget!" Lee was starting to feel a fraction queasy and was now wondering if Slob city even had hygiene standards for restaurants.

The two were ushered to their seats as Velma returned to the kitchen. Bob's phone beeped. "Oh! I better be careful," he said. "I'm almost halfway to my daily step limit." Lee looked up from the giant menu. "Step limit?" "Yeah, the recommended 200 steps a day max." "200?" "Yeah, I know! As if you'd ever reach that!" "No, I mean, I used to aim for 10,000 a day." Bob stared. "You're joking, right?" Lee shook his head. "No, I'm not. Look." He pulled out his phone and flicked the calendar in his fitness app back a few weeks. "10,507, 11,005…" "What is that app?" Bob asked. "It doesn't look like the Lazyr app." "It's not, it's…" he paused. "What's Lazyr?" "You don't have Lazyr? It's the best!" Bob gave Lee his phone. The screen was smudged with greasy fingerprints and had crumbs and lint stuck in the crevices. "It's an app where you can keep track of how many hours you've been sitting, sleeping, watching TV and stuff. You can record what food you eat and all sorts of things. If you achieve your goals, it'll reward you with discounts for fast food and groceries and even gaming consoles or TVs! It also warns you when you've moved too much. It's the perfect way to monitor and improve your inactivity." Lee flicked through it. Most days Bob was achieving at 23 hours of sedentary activities, the only days he didn't was when he spent the entire day on his arse. "I see," Lee said, not sure if he should be impressed or disgusted. "Here, I'll send you an invite to download it. If you accept it, I get a month's supply of chocolate for free." Lee's phone buzzed and he saw the notification. With Bob waiting expectantly, he opened it up and accepted the invitation. The app, its icon a picture of a couch, downloaded onto his home screen. He put the phone away. He wasn't planning on using the app anytime soon, but he was happy to humour Bob. "Now let's order! You have to get the burger, it's massive!"

Much as Lee expected, the menu had nothing remotely healthy on it. He let Bob decide on the food, given he knew what was good, and before too long the first few dishes arrived. Their starters were platters of friend onion rings, with an array of condiments and sauces to dip them into. "Wow! These are the crunchiest onion rings I've ever had!" "Yeah, their quintuple fried. The fifth fry is with lard, and it's what really adds to that crunchiness." The next course was the burgers. Lee stared at the stack. "Uh… how do I eat this? I don't have any cutlery." The burger was far too large to fit into his mouth. It oozed with sauces and mayonnaise and melted cheese. Bob had already dug in. "Jusherterah," he said, mouth full of food. Lee had no idea what he meant, but guessed there was no other way forward but to try. The burger was too big for his hands to really get a grip, but he did his best and took a bite. Bits of meat and pickles and cheese slopped out onto the table and down the front of his singlet. But Lee wasn't paying attention; he was in taste paradise. "Ohh…" he sighed. It was the best burger he'd ever had.

Despite its massive size and his protesting stomach, Lee valiantly pushed on and managed to eat the whole thing, licking his fingers and picking up crumbs off the dirty tabletop. "That was so good," he smiled, patting his stomach. He felt a belch brewing and, wanting to be polite in public, forced it back down with a tell-tale gurgle. The restaurant, which had been a hubbub of chatter, suddenly went silent. "Huh?" Lee asked, looking around. Bob stared at him, aghast, as Velma stepped out of the kitchen. "What?" she asked flatly. "Is my food not good enough for ya?" Lee was confused. "N-no! It was great!" "Yeah, right," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Bob, I can't believe you'd bring some lowlife scum like this into my restaurant." "You have to forgive him, Velma, he's new here, he has all these weird ideas, he probably just doesn't know, please he's a good kid, please!" Lee was not quite sure what was going on. He tried to retrace his steps when he felt another surge of gas build in his belly. This time, in his panic, it caught him by surprise and out erupted a massive burp. "BEEE-EEEEE-UUURRRLLCCHHH!!!" The tension in the room dissipated. Velma smiled. She patted him on the back. "Now that's more like it! Sorry if I scared ya, I guess Bob's right about you. I'll leave you two to enjoy the rest of your meal." When she was gone, Lee turned back to Bob. "What was that about?" Bob shook his head. "Didn't your mother teach you never to hold in your burps at the dinner table? It's rude!" Lee blinked. "I see. I-I'm sorry?" "It's OK, I'm just glad nothing bad happened." Lee had just finished off his sides (a bowl of chips loaded with a myriad of toppings and a 'salad' that consisted of slices of cheese, bacon and deep-fried croutons covered in some kind of heavy, cheese-like dressing) when dessert arrived. It was a giant brownie, big enough to qualify as a cake, ladened with ice cream and chocolate sauce. Lee wasn't sure he could get it all down, but once again he pushed his stomach to its limits. "Whew," he sighed, rubbing his distended gut. "Good thing I'm not wearing pants, or I would've had to unbutton them!" Lee's singlet, now dirtier than it was when he'd entered, could no longer fully cover his body. His belly button just barely peeked out from under it. He burped. Bob gave him an approving nod. "Enjoyed yourself?" "Yeah, though I don't want to be eating like that every day." "What d'you mean?" "I mean, imagine how fat I'd get. I'm already putting on weight as it is." Bob cocked his head to the side. "What's wrong with being fat?" Lee flushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it as an insult! I just meant, I like to keep fit." Bob snorted. "What for? I mean, tell me with a straight face that 'exercise' and…" he was at a loss for words. "What do you call it when you eat like… whatever that green stuff is called." "Vegetables? Dieting, you mean?" "Whatever, yeah, that. Tell me that doing that is better than the meal you just ate. The feeling of all that delicious food siting down in your gut, that feeling of fullness and satisfaction. BURRRP! Ah, it's so good!" Lee rubbed his belly in thought. Maybe Bob wasn't wrong, and it wasn't like anyone here would judge him if he put on weight.

They drove home and Lee plonked himself down on his bed. His gut was still hard as a rock and though he was tired he was still too uncomfortable to properly lie down and sleep. With nothing better to do, Lee opened his phone and was greeted by the sight of the Lazyr app. Out of curiosity, he opened it up and was prompted to set up an account. The app then suggested he fill in today's meal. To his surprise, it had a collection of the menus of every restaurant in town, and he simply had to select Velma's and the food he'd had and ta-da: his diet for today was inputted. "Wow that is a lot of calories," he said, staring wide eyed at the number. He looked at his stomach. It was all in there, slowly turning into fat. He patted his gut gently, smiling. "I guess I can see why Bob's proud of his belly: it is hard work to grow it."