#I honestly would have loved it if we had had like a fight between the two and then cut back to Earth and Aaron Paul's character returns

[alextydaisuda123]

Pepperman PT + MLP Creepypasta [WARNING!: Lots of text] Let's admit honestly that MLP Creepypasta has already become a separate fandom, existing separately from MLP itself, whose stories are one better than the other. I've had an image of Pepperman in the role of "Lil Miss Rarity" in my head for a long time. Why her? Well, explanations in the studio! 👏 1. There is something in common between the characters of both, and both are creative natures and love themselves; 2. Both have cats (this is not a reason, but just a fact); 3. I can imagine Pepperman as the same sado-masochist, but in his "role"; 4. Let's admit that Pepperman can be a "Daddy" too 🌚✨️ 5. Lil Miss Rarity used to be one of my favorite creepypastas (which I only knew a quarter of, it turns out, because the rest of the story was shrouded in darkness for me for many years, and... I just didn't understand the rest of the events when I learned the rest of the story, so for me only a part of it exists and that's enough for me). Well, if I explain the image, then... I took from the original Lil Miss Rarity only scars with scratches and a black eye. As for the brand, sorry, but I removed it, because there is nowhere to put it on Pepperman, but the question is, would he have made it as a "sign of devoted and mutual love of fans and himself", the answer is "yes", damn it!>:) For some reason I wanted to remove his shoes and gloves, exposing his paws and hands, replacing them with something else (I don't know what it is, like... the remains of his shoes and gloves? I have no idea how to explain this😐), like for the sake of convenience and "beauty". As for the doll, I'll go into a little more detail about it, because I slightly changed the events in the story, if Pepperman were like Rarity. I'll start with the fact that the wounds were not left by his kitten Chili (because he, logically, is a kitten, not aggressive and physically cannot scratch him), but by Noise, who ruined his paintings and statues once again. During the fight, Phil got injured and he killed Noise, and in fear and panic, in order to cover his tracks, he made a doll of Noisette because of Noise's connection with her (now Noisette's phrase: "You will always be in my heart" played with irony, lol) and placed his heart there, hid the remains (he does not remember where), and disguised the blood as paint (which he later drew with due to carelessness, but from there came the pleasure of drawing with this, and then a tendency to cruelty). Don't ask what I smoked to come up with this, I just wanted to speculate on this topic, to bring his image to at least some logic. And finally, I made the style of the drawing almost like from the comic about Lil Miss Rarity herself. I thought it was appropriate here. Yes, I didn't color Pepperman himself, he was originally in b/w, but I colored him in digital format, just to show the approximate shades of his palette as a whole. Is this necessary at all? 🤔 No, but if someone was still interested in finding out, here it is. And while I was drawing, I listened to 2 songs dedicated to this creepypasta (and I took the phrase written next to it from the song and replaced the word "mommy" with "daddy". So yes, now we have a cruel, but "loving" daddy😏.

Color version:

[tanoraqui]

now that this fic is all published, I can ramble about the things that happen afterward in the timeline! Feel SO free to ask about anything you want more details of.

First off, all three posts about Dave the Balrog are 100% canon to this au, except for where they sometimes contradict the fic's worldbuilding or plot bc I hadn't settled on every detail yet. Also, Dave’s name is probably more like “Drav”, from the Sindarin “drava-”, “to hew.”

That happens much later, though - about 1980 TA. FIRST, immediately, as Celebrimbor says: it's time to save the orcs!

That is, wildly self-indulgent crossover with @ceescedasticity's fic(verse) elves, once, which isn't 100% my headcanon for orcs but it's essentially canon for this au because it makes everything VERY FUNNY in a tragic irony way. I've thought about this so much that it really deserves its own bullet-point post, but highlights include:

- Annatar attempts to conceal the fact that Curufin and Celegorm are orcs, and, y'know, have been since they died. This works until Celebrimbor identifies a bunch of the orc army's weapons as made by his father, even if the style is strange and fell, and the two of the have a HUGE fight in front of representatives of every Elvish kingdom in Middle Earth and most of an army of orcs.

- Bellow/Turgon is having the single strangest, most uncomfortable road trip of his life, and he counts the crossing of the Helcaraxë in that total.

- Turgon tries to convince Galadriel to take Celebrían and Elrond and get out of here, because inevitably this must be a cruel trick and all the orcs will be forced to turn on all the Elves. Galadriel is like, "Honestly, I've been watching Celebrimbor's slow corruption and Sauron's slower un-corruption for about 2,000 years now, and I think we actually have a shot at this. Also, bold of you to assume you can beat me in a fight."

- Curufin and Celegorm had BOOKED IT when Annatar's summoning-compulsion snapped, on the reasonable assumption that any plan the Dark Lord had for them + Celebrimbor could only be cruel to the extreme...so Celebrimbor and Annatar go on a bonus road trip to retrieve them.

- Everyone meets up by the Sea again, but instead of taking (or, obeying) the offer of escape into Ulmo's hands, Turgon and probably a bunch of other orcs volunteer to come help break the Crucible. They Deserve This.

- In the end, as usual, the day is ultimately saved - as are the souls of thousands of trapped elves - by the power of love and overwhelming violence.

AND THEN...

Celebrimbor & Annatar don't actually rebuild Ost-in-Edhil and Eregion as they were. Those days are over, and also the surviving Númenoreans kinda...regard Annatar as Absolute Evil, for some mysterious reason. And those who knew about the whole or even partial conspiracy - namely Tar-Miriel herself - aren't too keen on Celebrimbor, either.

They leave whoever wants to stay and rebuild in Eregion, leadership tbd based on the traditional system of craft-based meritocracy, and take a few decades off to lay low from geopolitics, work on their marriage, and for Celebrimbor to learn a little bit of necromancy so he can manipulate his own fëa and hröa, thank you very much.

They stay with the Witch-Queen of Calador for a while, discreetly because officially that kingdom is also not on good terms with its “former” evil-ish overlord. (The Witch-Queen of Calador and her not really sane, almost certainly unsafe, but arguably consensual relationship with Annatar really deserves her own post, too. She’s my favorite OC of this au. She really loves bats.)

Elrond & Celebrían get married! Elrond always knew his wedding would have to involve stopping drunken brawls from erupting between people who love him but hate each other, but he’d assumed it’d be Iathrim and Fëanorians, not an elderly Queen Miriel going for Annatar’s eyes with a butter knife.

Annatar regards the birth of Elrohir and Elladan with some concern, this alarming lineage now augmented by the blood of Arafinwë (cut off Melkor’s foot) and Galadriel (Melian’s pupil, hates him). But that’s nothing to how freaked out he is by Arwen, who is such an obvious Reprise of Lúthien that it’s now CLEAR that this was all a Melian scheme to assault him, personally.

He can’t just kill her now—Elrond and Galadriel and both right here, not to mention Celebrimbor. And then she’d absolutely be his enemy when she Returned… No, the only solution is to stay in Imladris for a while and become her most beloved uncle whom she would not dream of assaulting, whom she could not bring herself to injure even if circumstance and conscience forced her hand. Love has ever been the undoing of Melian’s line. The Reprise is obvious, but not so established that he cannot twist it into irony, Lúthien’s heir as his devoted student and companion rather than foe.

[smash cut to late 3rd Age Annatar watching the Music settle into place as Arwen interacts with the newest, currently toddling scion of the House of Elendil and nearly killing the child right then because no, no, thats not how this was supposed to Reprise—that’s his jewel of an elf-queen, Singer and trade-manipulator and niece, and he’s going to lose her forever? Killing the brat won’t even work, that would only make her follow him sooner, one way or another—]

Celebrimbor doesn’t want to build a city (and have his heart broken by the loss of the city) again, but he very much does want to ImproveThe World, and also to Make Things With His Hands. So he and Annatar, and whoever of the Gwaith-i-Mírdain wish to join them, set about… “Traveling” is too loose a term; just because they’re not city-building doesn’t mean anyone here wants to live on the road. They need workshops, forges, and ideally a maia-sized cat tree tall tower from which to survey their domain. They are a highly skilled work crew/technical, artistic & management consultants who change cities every 5-200 years, throughout Middle Earth and perhaps even other continents.

This what Celebrimbor and Annatar do, for most of the rest of their time in Middle Earth. A few of the Mírdain travel with them all the time. Others strike out on their own, or in similar small groups. Others stay in rebuilt Ost-in-Edhil, or Rivendell or the Havens or another Elvish kingdom, and come lend a hand when their particular talents are called for. Everyone who “died” in Númenor and was “resuscitated” by Annatar walked away with a strengthened, basically permanent osanwë connection to the simulated workshop group chat, which they’re aware of, and a location tracker and fëa-stamp saying “PROPERTY OF MAIRON, FUCK AROUND AND YOU WILL FIND OUT” which only an Ainu could detect.

They're the mysterious stranger(s) who accept an offer of hospitality on a stormy night and reward you with a magic ring that blesses your farm with fecundity. They arrive in a city in the middle of a cholera outbreak and inform the local rulers that they're here to overhaul the whole wells & sewers system in exchange for room and board; no, the local rulers do not get a choice in this. One time they do oust an evil ruling dynasty and just kinda take over the kingdom for a few centuries, but then Celebrimbor starts to get paranoid of his own growing attachment so Annatar reluctantly agrees to find and raise some honorable candidate for kingship [gender-neutral]. One of the Mírdain with them says, what about the choice of the people? And then after a lot of discussion, partly in collaboration with their local Men, they write up and seal with Power a Constitution that establishes an oversight body of political, economic, craft and etc. experts to oversee and have veto power over popular elections to kingship from a slate of candidates chosen by the current/soon-to-be previous king, on a strict thirty-year schedule. There, that should stabilize the whole messy business of mortal succession!

Also, 1300 years or so into the Third Age when this version of Gondor hits its equivalent of the Kin-Strife, Annatar takes advantage of its weakness to initiate a plan he's been contemplating for a while, especially while gaining local insight into a variety of nation-states and their management, and returns to Oroduin to forge what may he his last Great Work...a new standard of currency.

It’s called, in the common tongue developing from Adúnaic and Sindarin, the “mira”, pl. “miran”, from Quenya “mírë” (“jewel, precious thing). Where pettier currencies are based in gold or silver or the might of some particular empire, these hold value Because a Great Maia Said So—indeed, Sang So, Sang a new line into the Great Music that these coins would always have a value of…whatever he said so, if he updated a petty lyric or two of their Song. Those who use the coins don’t need to know this; they simply intuit, with coins in hand, what they are worth.

(You can lead even the mightiest empire by the nose if you control the price of grain alone, much less other commodities, or one currency relative to another. Each minute adjustment takes Power, especially to shift the natural balance of multiple interlocking goods…but Annatar is a master of the perfectly placed lever with which to shift the world.)

Maybe at some point the Valar are like, “okay, I think they don’t irrationally hate us anymore, I think this could work” and send a small group of Maiar to openly, humbly approach Annatar and Celebrimbor and ask if they might be apprentices in the craft of…whatever the fuck is happening here. Or maybe something adjacent, because Pallandro and Alatar would really like to fuck off into those excellent looking woods and hunt the remnants of Ungoliant’s spawn, and Radagast actually wandered away 5 minutes ago to talk to a bird. He’s gonna be a while. But Curumo and Olórin are listening politely!

…Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just the Jewelsmiths, slowly becoming folklore, bettering the world (and manipulating wide-scale economics) one stone at a time. (They’d still be the “Jewelsmiths” anyway, even if they included those who, in another universe, were called “The Wise.”)

As stated in the third Dave the Balrog post, they do Sail eventually, several centuries after Arwen’s death. Celebrimbor just gets tired, and Annatar can’t fix it. Ossë spends the whole voyage backstroking next to their ship and sarcastically quoting Annatar back at himself, Years of the Trees insults about being made weak and pathetic by love, until Annatar nearly lunges over the side as a wolf to tear his throat out.

[pacificwaternymph]

I. ADORED. S2 of Arcane.

Final thoughts on the season below the cut

Season two was incredibly emotionally fulfilling. The climax was amazing. I loved the constant butterfly effect throughout the entire show, starting with Jayce as a child in the snow and Vi and Powder pulling off a heist leading up to all of this. All of it felt like a natural progression, so many threads of fate being woven together into one.

But there is a part of me that almost wishes they hadn't raised the stakes quite so high.

I know it's literally the namesake of the show and therefore this was probably always the plan, but there's a part of me that wishes they had left the Arcane out of it and just focused on the class war that got kind of... brushed over in Act 2?

It feels like they had to brush aside the themes of classism and oppression for the sake of making room for this bigger climax. And I think a big part of the reason I feel like this is because season 1 chose to focus so much on that part rather than the Arcane plot. So maybe I would have felt this way no matter what they did. But in their defense, they didn't forget about it entirely.

The shot with Sevika joining the council and several councilors giving her disgusted or mistrustful looks is a wonderful way to show that while they may have temporarily joined forces to defeat a bigger threat, the tensions between Piltover and Zaun are not automatically resolved. And I do like how Sevika is still the only councilor from Zaun. Everyone else is still topside. It's a good way to show that while a little progress has been made, it's only the beginning, and Sevika will likely have to fight tooth and nail for any reform.

Jinx's death... well I suppose I should have seen it coming. It was a good conclusion to her arc. But I still wish it hadn't happened. I am of the personal opinion that it didn't need to happen, and now I'm just left wondering how the hell Warwick/Vander was still alive when every other construct or whatever the hell they were had already died.

Vi... my darling. Even at the very end, couldn't catch a break. She really did lose everything. I'm glad she has Cait. I'm glad we got the sesbian lex scene. I just wish she could have ended the show genuinely happy, after having suffered so much throughout her entire life. I know for Arcane it's kind of a long shot for anyone to end up truly happy, but... I still really wanted it for her.

And on a lighter note: just when I thought I couldn't be any more attracted to Mel, the character designers decided to take that as a personal challenge.

I LOVE that they gave Mel more attention this season. The whole witch plotline and Mel having magic came kind of totally out of left field, but I still really enjoyed it. It gave Mel an actual role in this season which was less focused on internal politics, which I am glad for. It meant that she wasn't pushed to the side when the final climax came up. And I liked how her being a black rose put her in direct opposition to Ambessa, as opposed to the subtlety both of them had been employing up until that point. I liked the juxtaposition between the two of them, and I liked how she became the leader of Noxus following everything. Returning home after a long exile.

The completion of Viktor and Jayce's arc together was so fulfilling. I wasn't even sad about their deaths, I was glad that they were together, and that they could finish what they started together, just as both of them had always wanted.

I know everyone ships them but honestly I don't. I don't think their bond needs to be romantic. It transcends the need for those kind of labels. What's important isn't the exact nature of the relationship, it's the depth of it. It's the fact that their destinies, their souls have always been and always will be intertwined. And honestly the fact that they weren't explicitly romantic is almost better to me, because it defies the idea that relationships that deep always have to be romantic.

Ekko, as always, was perfect. My only complaint about him at all this season is that we didn't get more of him. I so adore him, I loved his episode in arc 3, it felt so perfect for him. To see what could have been, having just briefly everything he could ever want, and then knowing he had to leave it behind in order to keep moving forward.

And gosh, what a way of tying his time travel abilities into the story. It does make me kind of question what was going on with his fight with Jinx in season 1, if it wasn't actually time travel, though? Maybe we were just seeing another timeline, and he wasn't? Idk.

I'm so glad that at the end of the day, it was him that managed to save everyone. It wasn't perfect. He didn't bring anyone back to life. He didn't reset any timelines (which I am immensely grateful for, I would not have wanted everything that happened to be erased, it would have been such lazy writing), but he turned back time just enough to let Jayce snap out of his trance and free Viktor from the emotionless shell he'd surrounded himself with. He gave them one last moment together. And that's all they needed.

I don't know how I'm ever going to be the same after this. I am so glad for Arcane's existence.

[valkyurii]

it’s funny how things have gone full circle with malenia. she was so hated when the game first came out, but then people grew to like her. then the dlc came out and now people hate her again lmao

[marfian]

I feel so dumb for expecting gays in space when literally Aaron Paul plays a character in the episode. SPOILERS! Of course his wife will die, of course he'll be miserable, of course he'll cry. Fucking hell.

[luveline]

would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹

You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve. 

“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you. 

“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple. 

“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.” 

You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling. 

“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you. 

You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?” 

“No. They gave me tramadol.” 

Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper. 

Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why. 

The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day. 

“You okay?” 

“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod. 

“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.” 

“I’m your Unit Chief.” 

“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”

He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.” 

You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you. 

You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.” 

“I’ve been busy.” 

“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.” 

“I wish I did something that sensible.” 

You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle. 

“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.” 

His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.” 

“Not enough.” 

“No, I guess not.” 

You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder. 

“It wasn’t purposeful.” 

“No? That’s good.” 

“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.” 

“Morgan’s a big boy.” 

“As opposed to me.” 

“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”

“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.” 

“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.” 

Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess. 

“I don’t like him,” you say. 

“As opposed to me.” 

You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek. 

“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say. 

Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.” 

It’s an obvious lie. 

“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested. 

His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully. 

“You can finally get some rest.” 

He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours. 

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[bueckers]

UNFINISHED BUSINESS ━━━ paige bueckers

i don’t wanna fight, but you got the wrong vibes. let me get you right, it’s how i apologize. ✶

synopsis: she broke it off, but has since had a hard time leaving her alone… especially when having to see her in person.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem oc

warnings: smut with plot, p eating ( p is literally EATING ), fingering, thigh riding, and slight angst.

notes: this is ridiculously long. in honor of her fit here, enjoy.. i loved writing this almost as much as i love the song lol. lmk if i should make a part two or maybe a series!

Nervous, excited, and borderline bald from tugging at my hair—these were all the things I had felt the moment I stepped into the WNBA 2024 All-Star Game.

I would be seeing Paige tonight. Paige would be seeing me tonight. Paige knew I knew she would be seeing me tonight, and I knew Paige knew she would be seeing me tonight.

When Paige and I first started hooking up, it was never supposed to be anything serious. She was sidelined with a torn ACL, and I knew she was in a dark place, struggling with everything that came with being forced off the court. I think that’s why it started, honestly. She needed an escape, something to make her forget for a little while, and I was there.

Paige and I have known of each other for years, though. We both came up in the basketball world at the same time, our names being tossed around in the same circles since high school. We’d cross paths at AAU tournaments and national showcases, always on different teams but always aware of each other.

Back then, our support for each other was more from a distance, and it wasn’t until college that things started to shift. We crossed paths more often, whether it was at games, media events. The rivalry between our schools added a new layer to our interactions, but by then, we had leveled up from distant competitors to something more like casual friends.

Those moments were what led us to where we eventually ended up. The more we talked, the more we realized how much we actually had in common—our experiences, our struggles, the pressure to perform, and the constant scrutiny. It felt natural, easy, to let our guard down with each other, which is why when her injury happened and everything else in her life felt like it was falling apart, I wasn’t surprised when we fell into it.

We had an agreement. Not one that was ever talked about soberly, but the way it happened just fell into place so perfectly that we didn’t need to. We’d meet up when it was needed, no commitments, no expectations. Just two people finding comfort in each other, filling a void that we couldn’t fill on our own. It was convenient, effortless, and most importantly, it worked for the both of us. I guess I figured if I kept things casual, I wouldn’t get caught up in something messy. I didn’t want to be the one to complicate her life even more.

We’d cross paths after games, during off-season, or whenever our schedules aligned, slipping into each other’s lives for a few hours at a time. She knew how to keep me at arm’s length, just close enough to keep me coming back but far enough to never let me in too deep. She knew exactly how to make me feel needed without ever giving too much of herself away. It was maddening, really—how she could be so vulnerable one minute, showing me sides of herself that no one else got to see, and then switch off just as quickly.

The more we hooked up, the more I started to realize I was getting too close. I could see it in the way she’d look at me sometimes, like she knew I was starting to care too much. And the worst part was, she didn’t seem to mind pushing me right to that edge. She’d say something that made my heart race, or she’d touch me in a way that felt like it meant something, only to pull back and remind me of our status. She was always in control, always the one with the upper hand, and I hated how easily I let her have it.

And then it was all done. She cut things off with a cold finality that I still can’t even believe. No explanation, no soft letdown—just a sudden, brutal end. It was like she knew exactly when I’d reached that point and she didn’t hesitate to remind me that it was never supposed to mean anything at all.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks, alright? Try to look a little more happy for the jumbotron,” JuJu teases, getting up from her seat. I gasped, barely having any time to process her insult as she scooted between me to get to the stadium stairs.

“Very funny,” I muttered, watching her walk away.

Alone now, I focused on the game, doing an extremely good job at hiding the gnawing in my chest. I’d say I have a good poker face, but Paige would agree to disagree. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. It was her and she’d finally found you. She was on the other side of the arena, clearly getting a kick out of having you in her view.

you mad at me or just deep in thought?

I rolled my eyes back to the deep depths of hell. Another text from her.

you look good tonight

you too. how’s the game?

As soon as I hit send, I regret it. I should have ignored her. I should have said something snarky.

Her reply comes almost immediately.

could be better. thought about coming over

what stopped you?

You watched her text bubble practically stutter, making you quirk an eyebrow.

juju. i didn’t wanna make it awkward.

lol. okay.

actually, scratch that. leave w me.

I shifted in my seat, my hands suddenly clutching my phone a little tighter.

paige, no.

why not?

I shut off my phone just in time for JuJu’s return, watching as she squeezed through mounds of people to get back to me. She handed me a cherry slurpee, which would however be gone in ten minutes.

“Thanks, sugar,” you teased her, wrapping your lips around the straw and taking a nice, long sip. She shook her head at me as she focused on the game again, nachos in hand. Ping.

Tell her don’t get too comfortable 😂

I could even feel her eyes boring into me from the other side. I could picture the stupid smirk or gummy smile she’d have. I turned my ringer off and silenced Paige’s notifications before slipping my phone into my back pocket and reverting my attention back to the game. It’s almost over.

Fast forward to the final buzzer, and Juju and I made our way down to the court, weaving through the crowd of fans and players. I always loved the energy in a room of women’s basketball players and fans— there were always a million things going on at once. As we reached the court, we spotted Caitlin, who was already deep in conversation with a couple of other players.

“Great game, Cait,” I said, pulling her into a light hug. “Guess nobody busts your butt as good as SC, huh?” I pulled back first, resting my hands on my hips. I could say I’ve known Caitlin as long as I have Paige, but Cait doesn’t know me the way Paige does.

Caitlin laughed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah, Miss Championship. but don’t get too cocky now.”

Juju laughed alongside me, adding a quick comment about how USC would give her a run for her money next time. The conversation flowed easily, a mix of post-game analysis and friendly banter. I scanned the court for a brief moment, knowing exactly who I was looking for.

Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Flau’jae and Paige making their way over. I braced myself, knowing the cameras would be all over this reunion, and the media would have a field day with it. Paige looked as confident as ever, her stride always one that grabbed attention.

“Hey, y’all,” Paige said, her voice smooth, effortless. She exchanged hugs and high-fives with everyone, her presence commanding attention as always. When she reached me, she didn’t hesitate to pull me into a hug, her hand resting on my hip before snaking around to my lower back.

And then I felt it—her hand slipping lower, fingers grazing the fabric of my mini skirt. I could hear the smirk in her voice as she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Good to see you.” Just close enough to keep me coming back.

I pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was that smirk. My heart was pounding, a mix of frustration and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You too,” I managed, keeping my tone as neutral as possible, pulling back with a tight-lipped grin that looked friendly enough to anyone who didn’t know what was going on. Which was everyone.

The group continued chatting, oblivious, obviously. You’d found out the one thing you hated about being around Paige was the overwhelming current of being the only ones in the room who knew how each other was feeling. Paige, ever the actor, kept up her usual easygoing demeanor, but I could feel her gaze on me, like she was waiting for something. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it was impossible with her so close, the warmth of her hand still lingering on my skin.

When the small talk finally wound down, and the others started drifting away, Paige moved closer, her eyes locked on mine. She leaned in again, her voice low, almost a whisper. “C’mon. Meet me,” she coaxed, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers brushed lightly against my side, tracing a path.

I hesitated, the resolve I’d built up over the past hour crumbling under the weight of her presence. She was testing me, pushing every button she knew she could. And damn it, it was working.

I finally nodded, barely audible. “Okay.”

It was all she needed. A single, one-word confirmation that I wanted her as bad as she does. She took my phone out of my pocket for me, placing it my hand as she said her goodbyes to everyone else, leaving me there. I suppose it was smarter for her to do that anyway.

Shortly after Paige’s departure, I made my way out as well. JuJu wasn’t a tough barrier to get past. I told her to finish up her conversations, and that I’d see her back at the hotel. I wasn’t quite show how long my excuse would suffice, but I hoped she’d find her way to the bar or something after.

I don’t know why I listened. Watched my fingers click on her contact and give the driver her hotel’s address. It was like I was compelled from the moment she’d touched me, and to be honest, I don’t think I’d be surprised if that was the case.

The Uber ride felt interminable, each passing moment only heightening the anticipation and anxiety. I could barely focus on the city lights flashing by outside, my mind consumed with the impending confrontation and whatever would follow.

Finally, I was able to make my way to her room, feeling the cool air of the hallway against my skin as I knocked on the door. When Paige answered, her smile was as infuriatingly charming as ever, and she pulled me inside with a warm, yet testing glint in her eye.

The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Paige’s demeanor shifted. Before I could voice any protest, her lips were on mine, kissing me with an urgency that made my heart race. I barely had time to process the sudden change before she deepened the kiss, her hands roaming possessively over my back.

I tried to pull away, my mind still reeling from the fact that I was even here, but her grip tightened, pulling me closer. “Paige,” I murmured against her lips, trying to catch my breath. “We need to talk—” but as much as I tried to voice it, I knew that isn’t what we both really planned to do.

She silenced me with another intense kiss, her fingers tangling in my hair, guiding my head to tilt for better access. Her touch was relentless, her body pressing against mine with all the need in her body. “I don’t wanna fight,” she whispered between kisses, her breath hot and heavy against my skin. “Jus’ wanna be close to you.” She breathed in my scent, and I melted.

The words were almost lost in the heated moment, but I could feel the sincerity. She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her gaze smoldering with an intensity that made me rethink actually standing on business. She waited, trying to see if I was really against this. I licked my lips, glancing at hers.

I didn’t stand a chance.

Her lips found mine again, and the world narrowed to the press of our bodies. Our kisses were feverish and desperate, each touch holding some type of meaning. Paige’s hands roamed over my skin like there were so many options in a candy store and she couldn’t pick just one. In this case, one spot to focus on. Her mouth trailed down my collarbone, leaving a path of pinkish marks.

Our bodies were pressed together and refusing to let go. Paige guided me towards the bed, her hands never leaving my body, her lips continuing their assault on my skin. When she finally lowered me onto the bed, I was needy and breathless and finally feeling a little more realistic.

“P, I’m still mad,” I tried to insist, though my voice wavered as I watched her begin to undress. She unzipped her Nike vest slowly, the sound of the fabric sliding down her body making my pulse quicken. It fell to the floor, and she ripped off her shirt with a sudden, breathless intensity, revealing her sports bra. The sight of her, partially unclothed and vulnerable in front of me again left me speechless.

“I know,” she murmurs, her head slightly tilted as she looked at me all-knowingly. “And ima’ make it up to you, I promise. Just let me get you right.” Her fingers trailed up my bare legs, eliciting a small gasp from my lips. She tugged at the hem of my skirt, pulling the fabric down and grabbing my panties in the process. I watched her do it, in utter disbelief that this was how I was spending my night.

Her fingers graze teasingly against my kneecaps, sending shivers through my body, before she gently but firmly peels my legs apart. I look down at her. “You’re just trying to distract me,” I say, but there’s no heat behind the words.

Paige smirks, a knowing look in her eyes as she falls to her knees, her hands sliding over my thighs. “Maybe,” she admits, her voice dropping into a low, sultry tone as she tucks her lip between her teeth. “But you can’t say you don’t want this too.”

She’s right, and we both know it. The way she’s touching me, the way her eyes are locked onto mine with that look. The same one that knows she’s getting her way tonight. My worries seem so distant now, nothing more than a whisper of irritation in the back of my mind, easily drowned out by the way Paige’s hands are moving.

I begin to say something, but she easily cuts me off by diving into me with no warning, immediately humming against my cunt in satisfaction. Her eyebrows were furrowed as her tongue made some deliberate strokes, seemingly in disbelief of the way I tasted. She looks up at me as she delves in, a sight beautiful enough for the Louvre but way too sinful.

She says something I can’t hear, but I do catch a, “Can’t leave you alone, ever. Fuck.”

“Yeah?” I muster out, my breath a careless whisper.

Paige smiles against me, loving the cocky tone in my voice as she responds with a fast nod, the movement making me gasp. “Yeah.”

From there, every moan and gasp from me seems to fuel her desire, making her work even harder to drive me wild. Her hands grip my hips firmly, keeping me in place as her mouth and tongue continue their relentless assault. In the haze of ecstasy, all I can focus on is the feeling of her between my legs, making good on her promise to get me right, leaving me utterly consumed by the pleasure she’s giving.

I come, loud enough that the neighbors might know Paige’s name, but she keeps going. It becomes too much, enough for me to whine and pull away, scooting a little bit higher on the bed. She isn’t going for it, though, and immediately brings me back to her mouth, wrapping my legs in her thick arms.

“Where you tryna’ go, princess?” she teases. The sensation of her mouth and fingers on me is so intoxicating that I can barely respond before she pulls back entirely, rising to her feet. She begins to peel off her pants, her movements slow, leaving me breathless and frustrated.

“Seriously?” I complain.

“Chill,” she responds with a husky chuckle, towering over me in the sexiest way explainable. It’s like she contemplates something in her head for a moment, leaving me dripping wet and needy before her.

Finally, Paige steps closer, her hands sliding down to her sports bra. With a teasing glance, she pulls it off, revealing her bare chest. My eyes widen as I take in her form, unable to tear my gaze away. She then sits back down, positioning herself comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Want you to get on my thigh, baby, m’kay?” And there was no room for argument.

I crawl toward her, a mixture of urgency and anticipation in my movements. Once I’m seated on her thigh, I start to ride it slowly, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. I truly can’t believe we haven’t done this before. The way she flexes, the way I can feel her muscle.. it’s all too much.

I roll my head back, needing more. My hands find Paige’s boxers, slipping into them with ease as she watches, her eyes moving more than her actual head. My fingers find their way to her core, exploring.

Paige’s breath hitches, her fingers gripping my hip as she watches me intently. “You like that, don’t you?” she breathes, her voice filled with a mixture of desire and all things Paige. “You’ve got me exactly where you want me.”

I stare at her. My body and arm moving repeatedly, my hair a bit puffy at this rate, and a panting mess. Paige raises her thumb to my plump and parted lips, slipping it in. I moan out, forced to suck around it as I squeeze my eyes shut.

Paige is in a trance, completely focused on the warmth around her thumb and how your small fingers disappear into her. “So, so, so good. Love seeing you above me, baby. So pretty.” I couldn’t understand how she could say things like these, and happen to not mean them, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Mfmfmm, I’m gonna come. Again.”

Paige’s response is a series of breathy moans, her hands gripping my hips tightly as she keeps me pressed down, every thrust and touch pushing us both closer to the edge.

As she finally shudders, her release crashes over her like a tidal wave, her body trembling violently. The sensation of her coming around my fingers makes my own climax come shortly after. I cry out, my own pleasure peaking as I grind against her, my fingers thrusting in and out.

Our combined releases feel explosive, a storm of heat and passion that has us both gasping and moaning. I feel her tremors against my fingers as I continue to move, riding out the last waves of ecstasy before finally collapsing against her, both of us spent and tangled together in a sated, sweaty mess.

I think I’ll regret this in the morning. But right now? I’ve never been happier.

[baphometsss]

I don't wanna sit here and act like I'm a professional or anything, because I'm not, but as someone who has had to do a lot of work to overcome trauma and reconfigure my brain more or less from the ground up, there's a lot I have to say about Solas's mental state

We know that Solas was essentially used and abused by Mythal for millennia. Even if he wasn't under a geas, he was twisted from his purpose by being made to fight, and then created the Wolf's Fang which was used to make the Titans tranquil and started the Blights. He made those choices himself, but it's important to understand that no choice is ever made in a vacuum. She took advantage of his vulnerability when he was given a body after however long as a spirit semi-existing peacefully in the Fade, and moulded him into a weapon.

He is broken, because Mythal broke him. I'm not incapable of seeing why she did what she did because like I said, no one makes choices in a vacuum and I could write about her for a long time too (in a similar way to how I have had to do myself in my own life in understanding why others abused me). He was so traumatised by everything that happened and he was trauma bonded to Mythal pretty much from the minute he gained a body. Trauma bonds are not about love. He definitely interpreted it that way, as most people do, but that's the weapon abusers use to keep the victim under their control. Abuse abuse abuse show a scrap of love and then abuse some more. If I just take it, I'll get the love/attention I need. I will earn it, because love is suffering, and I have to suffer to earn getting my basic needs met from my family/friends. Mythal, as his creator, was the one who he would've attached to in a similar way to spirit Cole/human Cole.

Trauma bonds are pathological. Mythal made him believe that if he did as she asked, and kept supporting her, then eventually he would gain her favour and they would be able to free all the elves, and he'd be able to live according to his true nature, which is one where he doesn't have to fight. (Remember his personal quest in DAI? He actually kills the rebel mages for corrupting his friend--another Wisdom spirit--into Pride.) In reality, she was just using him. She always kept the bone just out of reach for her lapdog. The line from Rook where they say (paraphrasing here) 'you know, I was actually excited about getting your approval... That's how you do it, isn't it? Keeping giving little scraps of approval to keep someone loyal, and then you turn around and betray them' is so telling too.

Where--or from whom--do you think he learned to do this?

It literally reeks of a pathological trauma bond and honestly, with how isolated, 'grim and fatalistic' Solas is, it is not a surprise that he's so broken.

Solas, essentially, is little more than a lap-dog to Mythal. He followed her like a lost puppy, because especially in his early days, that's kind of what he was. You have to remember that most of the insight we get about Mythal is from Solas's perspective, and he is not a reliable person when it comes to her after so long being repeatedly terrorised and twisted and manipulated. There are several instances where he describes being betrayed by her, and mentions some of the things she did, but he never quite holds her fully accountable and ends up directing his rage elsewhere. (The parallel between Mythal/Solas and the rebel mages/Wisdom is important here.)

This awesome post by @mythalism only reinforces this. He is so messed up in that scene, he is broken, he is holding the Wolf's Fang up, trying to give it to her because it symbolises the burden he has carried for thousands of years trying to avenge her death. He never wanted the Fang, like he never wanted a body. Mythal just stands over him, fully aware of what she did to him, and only getting him to stop because Rook petitioned her successfully, and the reunion with the more benevolent Mythal within Morrigan tempered her anger. She was a goddess, with the unequal power dynamic, right to the end.

As a side note, on the potential romance element between Mythal and Solas, I read an excellent breakdown of it on Reddit a while ago about how out of character it would've been for Solas to keep something like that from a romanced Lavellan, especially in Trespasser when he comes clean about his plan/past. I can't find it now because it was pre-Veilguard release, but it made a lot of sense to me. Solas and Lavellan never have a love scene in DAI because Solas didn't want to 'lay with them under false pretences'. Lying about who you are when sleeping with someone is nonconsensual. You can't consent to sleeping with someone if you don't know their true identity, and someone who knowingly lies about who they are to get into your pants is a sexual predator. For someone who led a slave rebellion (no doubt many of them being sex slaves), and a former spirit of Wisdom, Solas would've been well aware of this. In the unsent letter from Solas to Lavellan he says he came so close to breaking and desperately wanted to stay with them as Solas, with the implication being that that is where he planned to sleep with them once he'd come clean. But because he stops, because he's still unable to forgive himself or release himself from his trauma bond with Mythal, he breaks away, and they never have sex.

Bottom line: Solas would've been honest about it. Especially that. As the Inquisitor says, he can't lie about his heart.

And it's why the Solas/Lavellan romance is so powerful because quote, 'you change everything'. Solas thought he knew what love was, that love was loyalty, devotion, worship, etc. It's not just his plans or worldview that Lavellan changes. Lavellan sees him for who he is, without the mantle of Dread Wolf, and because of that he's able to express his true nature to her, even if he's not being totally honest in Inquisition. Lavellan got much closer to the real him than most, as he says, and changed his understanding of love completely. Unfortunately, he has unfinished business, an unresolved trauma bond, and his crushing sense of duty to the past is what keeps him from taking that final step towards letting go of it entirely. Trick also says Solas doesn't think he deserves love, which tbh is kind of a hallmark trait of people who have survived abuse.

And honestly? Call me a simp but I think he really was trying to get the Inquisitor to stop him. He saw himself being unable to let go because he was so broken and burdened by his guilt, and knew he couldn't save himself--was too proud to admit that he couldn't, because how pathetic does it make him look? And how could he stop now without rendering all the damage he'd wrought pointless? Yet here was someone who had changed him right down to his core, who understood him in a way few people ever had, whom he trusted, whom he loved in a way he hadn't loved anyone else before. It took him 'centuries' to build up rapport with the members of his rebellion. The man doesn't not know how to form attachments without trauma, and suddenly he forms a strong one with someone who loves him completely and without condition. It's a jarring change.

Lavellan says that maybe they're being prideful themselves, refusing to see their own folly. But I think in admitting that they might be wrong, that it might be wishful thinking borne from misguided love to a truly terrible person, they've rendered the point moot. It shows self-awareness, which isn't folly.

If anyone can make Solas understand true love, it's Lavellan. Lavellan loved him when he was being his true self. Lavellan loved him after his betrayal was revealed. Lavellan loved him when his guilty conscience and terrible actions almost destroyed the world. Lavellan loved him because they knew the real him, and knew that his heart and spirit were broken, and knew that their love would endure, that their love would heal him.

And that's exactly where they end up. Healing the past, soothing the Blight, and loving one another completely.

[indecisivemuch]

The Pact

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: Seeing you yearn for a relationship and dejected over the lack of one, Luke Castellan proposes a dating pact. Little did you know, he was going to do more than just wait until the day the pact could happen (friends-to-lovers, fluff, pining, a lot of longing, lowkey jealous luke).

Note: Sort of inspired by Monica and Chandler's pact thing from Friends.

Word count: 3.4k

You were spending some time alone near the lake, trying to enjoy mid summer sunlight as well as the silence from the lack of campers and couples around. For some strange reason, the number of people dating at least tripled in the last three weeks. If you were honest, the sight of happy couples was starting to irritate you.

Your eyes glided through the lines in the novel you were reading, though you could barely get past a few pages before a degree of bitterness seeped through. You set the book down and sighed. Your head leaned against the tree behind you while shutting your eyes and furrowing your eyebrows. 

Oh, if only someone could love you the same way love was portrayed in books.

Before the scowl could grow permanent on your face, you felt light finger tips setting on the crease between your eyebrows. Instead of getting scared, you remained calm. You knew immediately who it was because there was only one person who would do that. The person sat down next to you and you turned to see them already smiling at you. 

To most, Luke Castellan was just the Hermes cabin counselor and best swordsman. But to you, he was a close friend and confidante. He has made it a habit to press softly against your scrunched eyebrows to prevent you from scowling further. It was somewhat sweet to you.

“What’s got you so bothered?” Luke asked, peering at you while tilting his head in a boyish manner. The look alone somehow made you blush. There was no denying that Luke was cute. You knew at least a handful of people at camp who would agree. It honestly surprised you that he was still single. Though you were somewhat relieved at that. For about a year now, you have had a little crush on the Hermes cabin counselor. It was not hard falling for his kind words and sweet actions.

“This is going to sound so stupid…” You let out a deep sigh.

“Oh, come on, since when have I judged you for being stupid?”

“Oh, so you do admit I’m stupid sometimes?”

“Yes, but is that really a problem, considering I find it endearing?” You hope he did not see the way your face heated up at his words. 

Little did you know, Luke did notice it, just like he has always noticed little details about you. Knowing he was the reason behind your pink-tinted cheeks filled his heart with joy. In fact, throughout the last year, it got to the point where he would grow very bold with his flirty jokes, disguising his feelings in between them. Honestly, he was surprised you had not caught up to the truth yet. 

“Okay, well, so many people have gotten together lately, and it’s got me a little bit annoyed.”

“Why?” Luke questioned.

“Because, I want that experience, you know? The teenage love thing. We already have a strange life, fighting creatures and going on quests that could kill us. I just want to at least experience an aspect of a normal teenage life,” you watched him nod and digest your words. “I didn’t want it, want it. But seeing everybody else experiencing it makes me wonder when it will be my turn, you know?” You sighed before adding, “To make matters worse, it seems like nobody is interested in me that way, so…”

Luke almost let out a chuckle of disbelief at your last remark. Oh, many Demigods found you cute. But if only you knew to look right under your nose. He has always been here. If only you could see him how he wanted you to and give him a chance.

Ever since the day Luke Castellan met you, he became a dreamer. During the night, every dream would be of you, while in the morning, he’d daydream of you until he would see you next. You filled in every thought, walking in his mind like it was your home. But even if it wasn’t your place, he’d still give you the keys without hesitation.

“So…you just want to experience teenage love?”

“Well, that, and ideally, to be loved too. I don’t just want some casual teenage love, but at the same time, I’m tired of waiting around.”

A lightbulb practically lit up inside Luke’s head as an idea popped up. The logical part of his mind was yelling that this was a bad idea, though the more chaotic side was pushing him to just give it a shot. Though, he spent little time contemplating.

“What if we make a pact? By the end of summer - so maybe in about a month - if you haven’t started dating anybody…let’s date each other,” Luke blurted out before his mind could talk him into backing out. It was stupid, and he knew it. But if that was one way to potentially date you, then so be it. 

Luke’s heart squeezed when he saw you completely frozen. He started panicking. Maybe he made it too obvious, and perhaps you didn’t like him in that way and were trying to find a way to back out. 

“I mean—just so the both of us could experience teenage love, you know? I think it will be great. We already get along well. We’re good friends. What could go wrong?” Luke tried in a more casual voice.

A lot could go wrong — you thought. A possible thing that could go wrong is that you would fall harder for Luke, and that feeling would absolutely destroy you when you two break up because he finally becomes genuinely interested in another girl. Or, it has you so hung up that you would confess to him, only for him to say that whatever you two had was just a pact. But Gods, your heart must actually be a fool to whisper to your brain, ‘I mean…at least you would no longer have to imagine how it would feel like to be his.’

“Sure,” you said before you could think twice about it. “Deal,” you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Deal.”

Now…Luke just needed to do a couple more things in the meantime.

During the first week, you asked Clarisse to set you up with somebody. She introduced you to one of her friends, Dean. However, when you mentioned Dean to Luke, he clicked his tongue before warning you.

“I just think you deserve better, Y/N. I’ve known him for five years and have never seen him bring one person on a date twice. Last week alone, he went on a date with five people.” Since then, you haven’t spoken to Dean again, deciding that you don’t want to try and date a playboy.

Two weeks later, you asked this guy on a date. He came to the picnic you had set up with a bouquet of flowers. However, your smile faltered slightly when you realized they were the type of flowers you disliked. You shook the negative thoughts away. After all, it’s the effort that counts.

Things quickly went downhill as the guy started sneezing…a lot. His eyes were watering, and it seemed like he was borderline getting sick. You noticed him trying to stop sneezing. You could feel the guy trying—you really did. But the last straw broke when he turned away to sneeze mid-sentence but didn’t do it fast enough. 

Three days before the day that marked the day the pact would be able to begin, you attended a party hosted by the Hermes cabin. You were honestly done with trying to find someone to date. Perhaps, this pact thing was not such a bad idea after all, even if Luke might not like you as much as you like him. But at least you knew he would treat you well.

However, your numbers must have turned because somebody had walked up to you and struck up a conversation. With similar humor, your jokes bounced off each other’s, and you almost started crying from laughing at one point.

The sound of your laughter caught the attention of the Hermes cabin counselor. Luke could feel his lips slowly curling up into a smile at the sound of your giggles and laughter. He has always found the sound so endearing.

However, when he turned his gaze over at you, his eyebrows scrunched at the sight of you conversing with another Hermes boy — Oscar, who was also one of his friends. Luke was no longer paying attention to the conversation in his circle right now. His ears were busy trying to make out what that boy was saying to make you laugh like that. However, he almost left his friends when you touched Oscar’s arm while giggling at another one of his jokes.

You always tend to physically react to Luke’s jokes, from small touches while laughing to you playfully slapping his arm at his cheekier jokes. They never fail to make the tip of his ears grow red while his cheeks match the same color. Though Luke swore he had never seen you this way with anybody else. Hence, he was less than enthusiastic at the sight of you doing the same with another guy right now. 

You continued talking to Oscar, but your conversation stopped when somebody bumped into Oscar and spilled their drink onto him. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip…” the guy who bumped into Oscar apologized.

“Chris, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Oscar said, though a sigh quickly followed his words. “I’ll just go and wash the drink off, but I’ll talk to you in a bit, though?” Oscar looked at you. He smiled when you gave him a sweet nod.

“Sorry again, man,” Chris said before watching Oscar exit the cabin. He turned to you now. “So, how are you? Are you enjoying the party?” You answered Chris and started catching up with him. You and Chris met through Luke, though as the years went on you two became friends as well.

With your focus now on Chris, you did not notice the figure of the Hermes cabin counselor zooming past you two and outside, following a certain someone. However, your conversation with Chris didn’t last long because Clarisse swooped in and borrowed you from Chris. 

“So, I saw you talking to Oscar. Give me the details,” she said, dragging you down to sit beside her.

“He’s great! It’s so easy to talk to him and be around him.”

“Easier than with Luke?” you gave her a warning glare. You might have told her about your little crush on Luke, though you confessed that to her out of the belief that nothing would ever happen and that it would pass soon. Fast-forward to a year later, your feelings have not changed. 

“...No, but—”

“I’m telling you, Luke’s the best one for you.”

“He doesn’t like me like that.”

“If he doesn’t like you like that, he would have never made that pact with you." When you didn’t reply to her, Clarisse decided to bring something else up. “Alright, let’s move on and talk about something else then…another candidate. Dean told me you didn’t show up.”

“Show up to what?”

“He wrote you a note asking you to meet him?” the look on your face must have told Clarisse you had no idea what she was talking about. “He wanted to ask you out on a date in person after that talk you two had three weeks ago.”

“Where did he leave the note?”

“Apparently, he was planning to get me to give it to you, but he passed Luke on his way to me, who offered to give it to you.”

“Well, I never got the note. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Luke told me he’s quite a player.” Clarisse pondered on the information you just provided her. Dean was in no way a player. She knew he has only been on one date with another person at camp. However, the puzzle pieces quickly clicked for Clarisse and she leaned back with a smirk. 

Before you could question the look on Clarisse's face, Oscar came back to the party. 

“Well, if you don't mind, Oscar is back and I have a good feeling about him. So I'm going to go and talk to him,” you left Clarisse, walking in the direction Oscar did. Meanwhile, Clarisse only silently chuckled. She knew exactly what Luke was up to and it made her shook her head in amusement.

“Hey,” you touched Oscar’s arm, though the cheery grin on your face fell when he slightly flinched and shrugged your hand off. “Uhm, it’s good you got that stain off your shirt,” your eyebrows furrowed when you realized Oscar was not even making eye contact with you.

“So, tell me more about that quest you went on last year?” you asked, hoping to start a conversation again. However, Oscar quickly broke out the truth.

“Listen, you seem very lovely, but I don’t want to put myself in the middle of anything. I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not the type of guy to steal girls my friends are talking to or having a thing with,” you scrunch your eyebrow in confusion. Just as you were going to question what Oscar was referring to, his eyes betrayed him and looked at someone. You followed his eyesight only to see Luke already looking at you while glancing between you and Oscar. Though realizing he had been caught, Luke looked away and back to his friends.

That was when everything made sense.

“Uh oh…” Chris’s voice snapped Luke from whatever his friends were saying. He followed his gaze to where Chris was looking, only to see you storming over.

“We need to talk,” Luke tried not to think too much about the way your hand felt on his wrist as you pulled him through the crowd and outside. As always, he blindly followed you to wherever you were taking him. 

You released Luke from your grip and stood with hands on your hips. You took a deep breath. 

“Are you kidding me? Have you been sabotaging me? You told me Dean plays around, but apparently he doesn’t. He also gave you a note to give to me, but you never did it. Then, Oscar, who I was getting along with, came back acting weird, wouldn’t even look me in the eye, and then told me we have a thing going on?”

Oh, Gods, you found out about what he has been doing.

“Listen…” Luke started off while rubbing his neck, though he was unsure what to say next because he was indeed guilty of every accusation you were throwing towards him. But how was he meant to trust fate that you would still be single by the time the pact would be able to come true?

So, he intervened in his own way. That included throwing away Dean’s note, having Chris spill a drink on Oscar to get the boy away from you so Luke could have a talk with him. He might have also suggested your date two weeks ago to get you flowers, despite knowing that the boy was allergic to flowers.

All he wanted to do was to make sure the pact could happen.

“Luke…why? You know I wanted this. I wanted to experience things and date someone.” You weren’t mad, but you were slightly disappointed and confused. You didn’t understand Luke’s intentions behind his actions.

However, Luke misinterpreted the look on your face. He thought you were genuinely upset, and that alone pinched Luke’s heart. He gulped at the idea that he might have disappointed you or made you sad. Screw waiting until the pact happens before confessing. What use would that be when you might somehow start hating him?

“...Maybe I wanted it to be me,” Luke confessed, watching your eyes widen. “You told me you wanted to experience teenage love and feel loved, and you’re tired of waiting until it’s your turn. But I have never told you what I want.” Luke took a step closer to you before starting.

“I want to be the one to take you on dates and give you your favorite flowers every single time. I want to be your personal hype man and be your shoulder to cry on if you ever need one. I want to sit with you by the lake while you read. I also want to read the books you read and those little annotations you make. I want to learn about the things you love and the things you don’t. I want to do things you love. I want to show and tell you just how amazing you are every single day. I want to let the feelings I have right now grow cause I really like the idea of loving you, and I want to get there someday.”

You stood there shell-shocked. This felt almost surreal, like something you read from one of your novels. You have always wished to have someone who practically walked out of a romance novel.

“I want you.”

And here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance to be yours.

“And I know you just want teenage love, and I could offer you that. But just know I’m also offering so much more, even if you don’t treat the pact the same way as I do and will only view it as a casual relationship. But I suggested that pact and chased all those guys away because I like you a lot, Y/N. And in hindsight, it was stupid and selfish. But I did it because I felt like it was the only way I could have you.”

“I like you too, Luke,” the words slipped out so easily like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to be my teenage love. I want you too.” You’ve been walking around asking when it would be your turn. If only you had paid attention and looked closer instead, you might have noticed he felt the same way. You wanted everything he has spoken of and be just the same for him — to be there for him and learn to love the things he does.

“And I look forward to every single one of the things you’ve told me, and be the same for you. I really can’t wait for it. However, there is one thing I really want right now,” you said as you walked closer to him, one hand taking his own into yours.

“What?” Luke rasped out, looking so tentatively at you. Gods, whatever wish that spills from your lips this second will have him scour the world for it—whatever guarantees your happiness.

“I want you to kiss me.”

Oh, you could ask him for a thousand kisses, and he would give you a million.

Luke’s cheeks grew rosy at your request. He stepped closer, tucking your hair behind your ear without breaking eye contact. 

“Can I?” He whispered in a honey-like tone, and you knew right then that if he kept talking to you in that voice, you’d do absolutely anything he asked.

“Mhm,” your quiet hum granted Luke permission to his next addiction. Without hesitation, Luke attached your lips together with both hands caressing your face tenderly. In return, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled you both closer until your bodies were flushed against one another. Slowly but surely, you also tangled your fingers in his curls. Luke almost immediately melted against your touch, sighing in contentment against the kiss.

Luke was convinced this was now his new favorite thing to do. He wondered if you could taste it through the kiss—his feelings and borderline infatuation for you. Either way, he intended on making every kiss like this: wholeheartedly and as if it would be your last. 

Now, if you were to ask Luke Castellan how to get the person of your dreams, here’s what he’d advise you:

Step 1. Be stupid and propose a dating pact (tick).

Step 2. Chase away every other potential candidate (tick).

Step 3. Confess (tick).

Step 4. Fulfill all those promises you have made about loving the person (To be continued...But, he’s intending to do this for as long as you’ll let him).

-------------------------

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[nxuvillette]

“I PROMISE, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.”

GENSHIN MEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FIGHT

synopsis: you and your boyfriend hardly ever fight, so what happens when you finally have one?

❥- including : tartaglia (childe), cyno, kaeya, wriothesley

❥- note : hi guys !! sorry if this post is kind of shit, i kind of rushed it. i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, angst, arguing, hurt with comfort, use of pet names (baby), fluff, dumb fights, lots and lots of fluff at the end.

♡ TARTAGLIA (CHILDE)

you and childe hadn’t spoken for much of the day, and this was due to an argument that happened between you two just before you sat down for some breakfast.

it was stupid, genuinely. 

childe had completely misinterpreted something you had said that morning. you were talking about one of your friends and their relationship. for some reason, childe thought you were comparing your relationship to the one your friend had, and it made him question if he was doing enough to make you happy. one thing led to another, and the two of you bickered over the encounter. you tried to explain yourself, but your boyfriend, being the stubborn man he was, didn’t bother to listen and went off on his own accord.

you and childe hardly had any fights. they would usually resolve after an hour or two, but you hadn’t seen him all day. part of you began to grow worried from his sudden absence. did he go out and do something to hurt himself? was he with somebody else? no, there was no way childe would ever cheat on you. he didn’t even look in another woman’s direction when he saw you that day. 

it wasn’t until sunset when childe had finally returned home to you. he had a few scrapes on his arms which seemed like they came from him battling another enemy, but regardless, he seemed to be in one piece. you were very relieved to see that he was fine. it made you run into his arms the moment he came into the door, which took your boyfriend by surprise. he was under the impression that you were still pissed off at him for the shit that he had pulled early on in the day. he knew he was wrong and he should have apologized, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. sometimes he wished he wasn’t so air headed. 

his arm went around your waist, bringing your body closer to his. the smell of his skin made you calm down. “i thought something bad happened to you..” your eyes didn’t move from the floor. 

childe could sense the worry that was in your voice. he shouldn’t have done that to you. he would never want to make you feel scared or put you under the idea that he would leave you. he wasn’t going to ever leave like that again, ever. “i’m sorry, baby..” he whispered, running his fingers along your backside. “i’m such an idiot.. i shouldn’t have said that shit. i love you way too much to hurt you..” 

you lifted your head to meet his ocean blue eyes. he had this frown on his features. you could see how guilty he felt for putting you in such a position. no matter what, you would always be in love with childe. no small argument would make your feelings for him shift, ever. you knew he could be stubborn at times, and honestly, so could you. all that mattered to you in the end was that you two made up and forget the whole thing. “it’s okay.. i still love you, okay?” you smiled at him, which made his heart skip a beat.

childe couldn’t help but smile, too. he leaned towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. he didn’t ever want to see you frown again. he would do anything to see a smile on your pretty face. “let me make up for it.. how about we take a bath together, hm?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 

you nodded your head. “sure..” you grinned.

♡ CYNO

you didn’t expect cyno to get upset earlier. 

cyno was in a bit of a rush that afternoon. he had a lot of things to tend to as the mahamatra, so he typically had a busy schedule. at the time, you had no idea that he had to be somewhere at a certain hour, so when you saw your lover wandering around aaru village by himself, you decided to go and talk with him to ask how his day was.

he kept his responses to you a bit shorter than usual, but that’s how he usually was. cyno was more the type of man to listen more than he did talk, but the more you kept speaking, the more he grew somewhat irritated. he had to meet with candace and discuss something that had occurred on his way there. he had to return as quickly as possible, though, because there were several people who needed his help out there. 

cyno had accidentally snapped at you, which in turn made you fire back at him.

it was very out of the ordinary for him to ever get angry with you. cyno was very patient, and he was especially with you. he was never the kind of man to be rude to you or yell at you, ever, so this threw you off completely. before he could even apologize, you left and went back to the place you two shared together. 

he didn’t return home until later that night. he had been thinking about what he had done all day, and it made him feel guilty for being that way towards you. you were his girlfriend. he loved you more than anybody else, and he managed to hurt your feelings because he was unable to control his very own. cyno hoped you wouldn’t want to leave him. anxiety plagued him the entire day. he wondered if he would return back to you and find that you deserted the home you two stayed in. 

much to his relief, you were lying in bed. you were turned on your side that was facing the window which exposed the vast desert outside. he sat down beside you and watched as your eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight taking over the bed. 

“i’m sorry..” cyno whispered, looking down at you with amber eyes. 

you sat up, crossing your legs on the mattress. you didn’t think he would come back being so apologetic, but you couldn’t help but forgive him. it did hurt your feelings a lot, but he was dealing with so much. it didn’t excuse what he did, but you two never fight. he wasn’t argumentative everyday. “it’s okay.. i just felt like shit for bothering you. i should have considered your schedule..” you didn’t want to look at him, but he tilted your chin to look into your eyes. 

cyno leaned in and hugged you, which took you by surprise. “no need.. i was an asshole for not controlling myself. you didn’t deserve any of that..” he squeezed your body. “i love you.. i hope you can forgive me.”

your hand rested on his shoulder blade. his skin felt warm from the blazing heat of the sun that he was under constantly. “i love you too..” you spoke. “i can forgive you, no worries.”

♡ KAEYA

you and kaeya had been dating for quite a while. since you were his girlfriend, there were some things that you needed to get accustomed to in the relationship.

especially kaeya’s drinking habit.

you didn’t mind that he would go off to the bars some nights to have a few drinks with his friends. hell, you did it a few times yourself with your own friends, but it became an issue when he would come late to your dates due to him being hungover the next day. you knew he couldn’t help but sleep an extra hour or two through the morning, but it had happened a few times and it led up to an argument occurring between you. you claimed it was a bother to you and he wasn’t being considerate of your time and energy.

what made it worse was kaeya usually was the one to make these plans, so for him to just not show up, it felt unfair to you. if he knew he was going to drink a lot, why would he continue to make plans with you the next day? it didn’t make any sense to you whatsoever, and you were tired of him either not showing up or having to go to his house to wake him up.

when you stormed out of his house and the door slammed behind you, kaeya felt immediate regret plaguing his chest. he did everything for you in the relationship and you did the same for him. he felt like he was an idiot for letting his drinking habits get a hold of your relationship. he didn’t have a drinking problem by any means, but he knew when he had too much he wouldn’t want to do anything the next day. you were right. it was unfair of him to miss out on spending quality time with you. he didn’t want to make you feel unimportant or a second priority. kaeya loved you more than life itself. how could he hurt the one person he poured his heart and soul into?

he gave you a bit of time to blow off steam. he knew chasing after you could escalate things further, so he decided to leave you alone for the rest of the day. however, he wasn’t about to let you both go to bed angry with each other.

so, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you were quite surprised. you didn’t think kaeya would even bother making an effort to talk things through with you, but he was standing there with an apologetic expression. “can we talk? i understand if not.. but i just don’t want you going to bed pissed at me.” he clutched the flower stems in his hand, hoping you would hear him out.

you nodded your head, inviting him into your home and watching him step inside. kaeya then turned to face you, handing the flowers in your direction. they were your favorite, lamp grass. you loved the way they glowed in the dark. “kaeya.. i’m-“ you started, taking the flowers from him.

“i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to keep missing out on our dates. i was a shitty boyfriend for keeping up with my behavior, and i shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.” he cut you off, shocking you. “i love you, (y/n), and i don’t want you to think otherwise.”

you stood there for a few moments in silence. you weren’t sure what to say to him, but you could sense his genuine energy in his voice. “i forgive you..” you said, lifting your eyes to meet his. “i don’t want it to happen again, okay? i love to spend time with you and i don’t wanna feel like you dislike my presence.”

he took your free hand into his, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. he had been a gentleman since day one and it seemed like that attribute of him never left his personality. “i love seeing you more than anybody else, please don’t think you’re a burden. i’d do anything to spend any waking moment with you by my side, okay? i won’t ever do it again.” kaeya replied, stepping closer to where you were standing.

you smiled, pressing a kiss on the side of his cheek. he loved how soft your lips felt against his skin. “i appreciate that..” you sounded much happier, which relieved him.

kaeya wasn’t going to do that ever again. he could never lose you, ever.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was quite a busy man. it was something you knew you were signing up for when you started to date him a few months back. his job was tiring, exhausting even. he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders to carry, and sometimes it stressed him out more than he would like to admit.

it seemed like that stress began to reach its breaking point, because wriothesley hadn’t been acting right over the last few days. you assumed he was just dealing with his job, so you decided to try and see if venting would have any relief to your boyfriend. you two had done it many times before when things got a little hectic in your personal lives. plus, you both trusted each other greatly. you didn’t think he would have an issue with it.

well, you were wrong, unfortunately.

when you made the attempt to speak to your boyfriend about what was wrong, he had a serious attitude, and things escalated to you two both having a fight. you didn’t like the way he was speaking to you and he was becoming upset with you for no reason at all. all you had asked him was if he wanted to talk, but it seemed like that question alone must have ruffled his feathers. 

you two never fought, so this had completely blindsided you.

wriothesley then left for work, leaving you by yourself in the apartment you lived in. it wasn’t your intention to make him angry with you. all you wanted to know was what was troubling him to make him feel so overwhelmed. that fact crept up on wriothesley immediately after he entered his office at the fortress. he shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. it wasn’t right, nor was it excusable. he was the one person who was supposed to make you happy, not hurt.

a few hours later, he returned home a lot earlier than usual. things were slow at the fortress, so he decided to leave early and try to patch things up with you. he found you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, seemingly trying to read away what had happened earlier between you. you were a bit taken back to see him standing in front of you, but you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“i’m sorry.. i was out of line earlier.” he broke the silence between you. it was like popping a balloon. “i get it if you’re pissed at me.. i can give you space if you’d like.”

you sat there for a few moments. you closed the book in your hands and placed it on the wooden table in front of you. wriothesley was right. he shouldn’t have been that much of an ass to you. you didn’t deserve such treatment, but you loved him. he was never like that towards you and your friends had told you before that random fights are normal. “it’s okay.. i forgive you.” you replied, standing up to go in front of him. “please.. just promise me you won’t do that again.” 

his hands went to cup your cheeks. his thumbs brushed against your smooth skin. you could see how guilty he felt for doing what he had done. “i promise.. i swear, (y/n), i’ll never do that again. i could never hurt you like that, ever again.” he looked down at you with sincerity on his features. 

you leaned in to hug him. wriothesley inhaled the fresh scent of your shampoo and felt immediately calmed from your touch. he loved you, dearly. he could never do that to you again and he vowed to never pull a stunt like that with you ever again.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[judesprincess]

NSFW ALPHABET – Jude Bellingham

note: hii babes, how are you? look, this is my first time posting something like this and English is not my first language so i ask you to be kind and ignore any mistake pls

ps: let me know if you like this, kisses 💋

a = aftercare (how they are after sex)

he would definitely be extremely careful and gentle after sex. constantly asking if he hurt you and checking your body; he knows how rough he can be (especially when he is frustrated), so he is quick to take care of you right after you are done having sex. he cleans you up while kissing you tenderly and repeating how good you felt; he always asks if you have cramps from penetration and if you do, he makes a nice warm compress to put on you. he holds you protectively and cuddles you until you fall asleep.

b = body part (his and his partner's favorite part)

he loves every part of your body, but besides that, I feel like he's the kind of man who likes curves, so I feel like he's obsessed with your ass, like he can't stop slapping and squeezing it... he also loves kissing and biting it and the sight of it all red from his slaps drives him crazy... I bet he would love your hips, he just loves holding them while he pounds you from behind

you see, when we talk about his favorite part of him i think that this man is definitely very proud of what he carries between his legs (those celebrations and demonstrations don't tell me otherwise), he just loves how impressed you are every time you see him naked (no matter how many times you've seen him like that) and how much you fight to take him every time... i bet he also loves his biceps, especially when he catches you staring at them shamelessly

c = cum (anything to do with cum)

he definitely loves cumming inside you. for him, there is nothing better than finishing inside you and seeing his cum dripping out;  he'd never admit it out loud, but you both knew it was primal, he just loved the idea of ​​claiming you like that and he loved even more the way you trusted him to let him do something so intimate

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he secretly wants to try anal sex with you, but he'll never ask you out loud because he doesn't want to pressure you into doing something just to please him

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

let's be honest, that man is a hoe, he's definitely experienced (especially for his age), but i think he had to hold back in the beginning of the relationship to keep up with you, since you weren't experienced (let's ignore the fact that i'm basing this on my lack of experience) and he didn't want to scare you or overwhelm you with the dirty things he wanted to do to you

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

to me there are two sides to him, one dirty and naughty and the other gentle and caring; so I think there will be nights when he will put you on all fours and fuck you until you beg for mercy and other nights when he will go in the classic mommy and daddy style and make love to you softly and lovingly while whispering in your ear how beautiful and special you are to him.

g = goofy (are they more serious now? are they funny? etc.)

i think he could be the kind of guy who always wants to make you comfortable and easy, so I think he would make a joke or give you a reassuring smile when he sees you are nervous or tense.

however, of course, there are days when he is not in a good mood and maybe he will be more serious and focused.

h = hair (how well-groomed is it? does the carpet match the curtains?)

honestly, he is very clean and hygienic, but I don't think he shaves;  at most, I think he trims it a little (but he's definitely well taken care of)

i = intimacy (how are they at the moment? the romantic aspect)

like I said, for me he has two sides, so it will depend a lot on the occasion and his mood. there will be days when he'll be more naughty and maybe even verbally degrade you, but there will also be days when he'll be soft and nothing but compliments and sweet words will come out of his mouth

i think he likes to set the mood beforehand, even if it's something simple and, even if you say it's old-fashioned, you secretly love how thoughtful he is about it

j =  jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he definitely does this, always thinking about you and your body;  You are far from each other and have no time for FaceTime and Jude can't stop thinking about the nights of sex he had with you and before he can even think, his hand goes up and down his cock firmly, even though he knows that his hand doesn't even compare to anything you were capable of doing to him. Of course, when you are together, he doesn't even consider touching himself, always wanting you instead.

k = kink (one or more of your kinks)

• size kink: jude definitely has a size kink, he loves how different you are physically (in every way), how short and small you are compared to him; countless times you've caught him comparing the size of your hands and smirking at how small your hand is compared to his. let me tell you, that man definitely loves how different you are down there too, he absolutely loves how tight the fit is whenever he enters you

• praisy kink: that man loves to compliment and be complimented; he just loves saying nice things to you and letting you know how great you're doing. he also loves when you compliment him, when you let him know how good he makes you feel or how big he feels or even how gorgeous he is, it drives him crazy

• innocence kink: i might be crazy, but i think he would love the fact that you have no experience or little;  he would simply love the fact that he was your first and had to teach you everything, the idea of ​​molding you to his will would make him dizzy

l = location (favorite places to do the activity)

I think he is a reserved guy and, although he may allow himself to tease you in public sometimes, he always wants to keep his intimate moments away from anyone; the bedroom or any place in his house or yours (as long as they are alone) is perfect for him

m = motivation (what turns them on, keeps them going)

slightly anything; but something about feeling that you need him moves him in an unmatched way and makes him crazy with desire

n = no (something they wouldn't do, turns them off)

definitely nothing that would hurt you; also, i think he would definitely say a big no to sharing you with someone (no matter who it is)

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

that man seems like a spectacular pussy eater and he would definitely make you fall apart with those gorgeous lips

but he definitely loves a good blowjob, he just can't get over the image of your lips wrapped around his cock, he definitely loves to fuck your mouth

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

it all depends on his mood.  if it’s been a bad day or he’s really horny, he’ll definitely fuck you hard and rough (but always making sure the penetration isn’t hurting you), but on those days when things have gone well, he’ll go in slowly and gently, setting a pace

but I feel like no matter what the pace, he’ll always want to go deep, deep inside you so you can feel him completely

q = quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he loves taking all the time in the world with you, he also loves quickies—anything to feel you around him—and will take you anywhere in the house

r = risk (are they willing to experiment? are they risk-takers? etc.)

he absolutely hates the idea of ​​someone catching you in such an intimate moment;  it would be the death of him to know that someone saw you as vulnerable and exposed as that must be for his eyes only

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

let's be real, have you ever seen the way that man runs for 90 minutes on the field?? you consider yourself a warrior for trying to keep up with his stamina; no matter how intense it was, there he is, dying to have more of you

t = toys (do they have toys? do they use them? on a partner or on themselves?)

i don't think he'd be too interested in that, although he wouldn't bug you for having some (although he would secretly be a little jealous); however, if you begged him, i think he might allow himself to use something like a cock ring

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

that man is a tease for sure, he would definitely tease you by blushing around him or being extremely wet and needy for him or even while you were struggling to get him

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he's definitely not the kind of guy who's going to be like a dead man while fucking; he'll definitely moan and grunt while mumbling dirty things to you

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

jude definitely has a "hero syndrome". he loves being your hero, no matter how silly it is; if you can't open a can or something, he's there to fix it quickly. it can be the most trivial thing, he'll want to fix it for you. he just loves the fact that you depend on him in some way – even though he knows it's lame, he can't help but feel that way – he always wants to be the guy who puts a smile on your face and who makes you feel safe and protected

x = x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

i think we have more than enough content to say that he's huge (and he's definitely thick too);  you are absolutely struggling to take it all in

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he is literally never satisfied. he always wants more and more of you and you just love how desired he makes you feel

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will only fall asleep after you, only after he is sure you are completely comfortable and satisfied.

well, i really hope you enjoyed it and feel free to interact with me anonymously (or not), kisses 💋

[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — PROLOGUE + TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • Secret Pregnancy AU

A/N: surprise! Have a first look at Tengen’s installment of my Bundle of Joy series.

This fic will be multi-part canon-AU. It is a non-linear story (alternating between Then and Now) and double surprise! It will be a slow burn (just because they fuck doesn’t mean they’re in love!)

CW: MDNI • this story features explicit sexual content • secret pregnancy • angst • mentions of injury/head wound • these two are stubborn as fuck lmao

PROLOGUE

“The Sound Hashira is rumored to be in this region. Some mission.”

Your comrade’s off-handed comment freezes you in your step.

“Where.”

Your fellow Kinoe shrugs, unaware of the way your eyes dart anxiously around the clutter of wooden homes and ramshackle shops, as though you half-expect the silver-haired swordsman to leap out from the shadows at any moment.

“It’s not like we get details of the Hashira’s missions shared with us,” he brushes you off with a yawn. His arms fold behind his head, his gait lazy and far too casual for someone of his position as he struts lazily along an uneven path that leads to the small building marked with a fading, painted wisteria crest. “We might be Kinoe, but we’re still bottom feeders compared to them.”

You hum in half-hearted agreement, but your attention to your fellow Slayer — to your mission — flounders as the knowledge you’ve worked desperately ignore explodes out of the mental bottle you’d shoved it into.

Beneath the ever-tightening buttons of your uniform shirt your stomach has begun to swell. Slight; not yet noticeable to the naked eye, but sure as hell prominent when you’re fighting to close the last two buttons or fasten your hakama pants.

You thumb absently at your belt — now loosened two notches. Perhaps you’ll take a cue from the Love Pillar’s book and opt for a skirt. At least the waist would sit higher up, the pleats, offering cover you’ll need while you figure out what the fuck it is you’re going to do. It won’t be long before your secret is exposed; before word inevitably reaches the jewel-crusted ears of the very one you want most to avoid.

You’d be more useful dead.

A callous thing to say to a subordinate, let alone someone who’d risked their neck on more than one occasion to preserve his. And, for all the testiness that had built between you over the years, a resentment born of your mutual inability to confront the other honestly, you hadn’t expected him to resort to that.

You’d known he regretted his words the moment he hurled them your way, but it was too little, too late. And it hadn’t stopped you from leveling his ire with your own, your response a series of poisoned darts you were only happy to launch right back his way.

I look forward to meeting your expectations.

But it was his regret, perhaps, that led him to grab you by the bicep as you’d tried to leave, that yanked you back to face him, breath heavy and pupils dilating.

The crack fissuring across your chest had been dulled by the way his hand swallowed your arm; how his mouth crashed into yours, and the powerful movements of his body. But once he’d collapsed atop you, panting and spent, the wounds he’d inflicted turned raw once more, the salt of his sweat preventing your blood from clotting where he’d torn your chest clean open.

You manage a furtive shake of your head, dispersing the memory of his body and his violence from your mind. This is not the time for you to pick at the scab over your heart, not after you spent the better part of the last two months trying to force it to form. For now, you need to focus on getting the hell out of here; to get as far away from this desolate corner of the earth before the universe decides to throw you back at him.

Before he knows.

Your comrade prattles on, bragging over how he’s been lucky enough to see the Sound Pillar in battle, oblivious to the smirk settling on your lips in spite of yourself. The Kinoe you’ve traveled with seems unaware that in detailing the way the Corp’s great Uzui had appeared out of thin air to save him and the handful of other slayers cornered by a particularly fearsome avian demon, he’s admitting to his own ineptitude in finishing off the beast on his own.

The Hashira don’t come unless hope is lost; the fact Uzui had appeared at all meant they’d been done for. Yet, he wears the boast of having needed his ass saved by one who’d undoubtedly disposed of the demon with a painful swiftness like a badge of honor.

You know better.

For all the ways your fellow swordsman brags over having witnessed the Pillar’s great display of strength, you’ve seen him weak. Not only that, but you’d been the direct cause of such weakness; you’d broken him down, made him give into temptations he believed he’d suppressed.

But that weakness has led you here — chewing on your thumbnail in a fit of anxiety your comrade remains woefully ignorant of as you try banishing the memories of the Sound Pillar’s weakness from your mind.

More, you’d begged him, sweaty and panting and delirious. More.

He’d obliged you — enthusiastically so. And the way you’d fallen apart in his arms showed you that you were just as weak as he.

Not once had he bothered to apologize for what he’d done; what he’d said. And his too casual pronouncement that your death — as gruesome and violent as your profession demanded — would be a better convenience than for him to work through his own bullshit was a slash through your chest even his most fervent apologies wouldn’t be able to stitch back together.

Not that you thought he ever would offer one — but the image of him dropping to his knees and begging you for forgiveness you wouldn’t allow yourself to give was a small comfort to your bitter heart.

Besides, you’d claimed the privilege of having the last word by not saying any at all. Instead, you’d crept away from the inn, leaving him asleep on the discarded heap of his uniform in the room you’d been forced to share.

You’d given him exactly what he’d given you — nothing. And that vindication had been as sweet as it was short-lived. Now, you’re stuck with the consequences of your own pride and weakness without any idea of what to do about it.

Feigning indifference where Tengen Uzui was concerned, however, is your speciality; a skill you’d perfected just as surely as you’d mastered shadow breathing. Thus, the mask of cool neutrality is easy to slip on as you listen to your comrade continue prattling on about skill levels and techniques to improve breathing styles, chiming with a mildly interested nod when necessary.

And you plot; plot your escape from this tiny fishing village, plot how best to guard the secret you know won’t remain such for much longer. Running away from your problems had always been far easier than forcing yourself to choke them down, and this time will be no different. Of that much, you’re certain.

Coward, a voice that sounds suspiciously close to Uzui’s hisses in your head. Coward.

And so, you continue to strategize your best chance at avoiding the storm brimming on your horizon as your fellow Kinoe continues, too consumed by his blustering to notice how your had drifts to your stomach, resting on the hidden curve where the Sound Hashira’s child grows.

—-

BONUS

“The baby — the baby —“

“Where?” Tengen surveys the wreckage scattered around you, ears carefully pricked for any cry, any smaller, weaker heartbeat, but for all his strain, he can discern none. “Was it a village kid?” He jostles you as much as he can, trying to force your eyes into focus. “Where, Y/N?”

But you only keep muttering the baby, your brow furrowed, your head twitching as though in dissent, though it remains limited where it is braced in the crook of Tengen’s massive arm.

He swears under his breath as your eyes roll into your head, your lips straining to form the mantra you cannot stop repeating, even as your breath turns shallow and raspy. Two fingers find the pulse point in your neck, and Tengen swears again at weakened beat of your heart.

“You don’t get to die.” He snaps at you, hand slapping lightly at your bloodied cheek. “You don’t get to run away. Not now. Not again.”

He needs to figure out where else you might be injured — that way he can help, can stabilize you before the Kakushi arrive. You’re not taking the easy way out this time. He would stand at the gates of heaven or hell itself to block your way, ready to haul your ass right back to life so he could chew your ass out the way you so obviously needed. And once he did, he can put this volatile, tempestuous thing between you to rest. He can free himself of the bonds you’d snapped around his wrists the moment you first sized him up and cut him down with a few, caustic words.

Then, he might finally be able to let you go.

Gritting his teeth, Tengen surveys your body. Your head wound is the most prominent, but no matter how much blood mats in your hair and streaks down your face, he knows better than to assume that it’s the worst you’ve sustained.

Gently, his hands smooth along your body, and he notes every odd bend, every lump along your joints that does not belong.

“The ba — baby —“ your voice grows fainter with each word, and Tengen can only see a sliver of white peeking out from between your eyelids.

Beneath the dark crimson of your blood your skin has turned ashen.

“Y/N.” The hoarseness of his voice has nothing to do with the smoldering flames and thick smoke that has burned the village to its skeleton. His hand slides to your abdomen, ready to position you in his arms so he can run with you, can tow you to the nearest Kakushi. You will not die; he forbids it, he forbids you from even trying —

His hand settles on your navel and freezes.

Beneath the flush of his palm is a curve; an outward swelling of your stomach that had been hidden under the loose fit of your uniform shirt, but under his touch, it is unmistakeable.

A bump. A sizeable bump extends from your abdomen.

The grunts and groans of the houses and structures giving way to the crackling flames fall away, his ears filling instant with a high-pitched ring that pulses in time with his thundering heart. The sweat rolling down his neck turns cold, his chest tightening until his lungs burn. Slowly, his eyes drag back up your body until he finds your graying face once more.

For one, brief moment, your eyes flutter open and search wildly before landing on his, wide and frozen in his horror.

“The baby.” You say once more, in explanation and confession. And then your eyes roll back into your skull and you turn limp in Tengen’s trembling arms.

[seresinhangmanjake]

What if feyd's wife brought up the idea of having another child? How will he react? I loved his boy and all of your fics btw. You're a great writer!!!

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: You want another baby, but after what happened with your first pregnancy and birth, Feyd is hesitant. 

Warnings/Notes: Thank you for your kind comments, anon. I hope you like this! Mentions of smutty stuff but not anything extreme. I'm still gonna go with 18+ though. I don't think there's anything else. Typos, I'm sure. This is also part of the His series, but you don't have to read it first.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Your bottom lip is worn raw. You’ve spent three hours nibbling on the delicate skin as you stare at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to rise. When it finally does, your little boy stirs in the bed between you and Feyd—nightmares, poor thing—but he quickly settles back into sleep, his lips parted with light snores. 

Iron seeps onto your tongue. Swiping your finger over your mouth, it pulls back coated in red. “Wonderful,” you mutter.

“What did you do?” Your husband asks, making you gasp and shoot up in bed. He chuckles, his brow drawing close at your skittishness. Careful not to disturb Fionn, he pulls back the covers and walks over to your side. His palm cups your chin. His thumb runs over your lip, collecting a droplet before sticking it in his mouth with a wicked grin that makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Morning,” he says, leaning in to kiss you. 

You press a peck to his lips. “Morning.”

“That’s all I get?” 

You debate not doing this, not dragging down another morning, but you can’t help it. It's an impulse at this point. Unable to be contained. 

“I want to talk about it,” you say.

Feyd’s features solidify into stone and he straightens his spine. “We already talked about it,” he replies before turning for the bathroom. You hop up and follow after him, closing the door behind you as Feyd twists a knob so water can cascade into the deep tub. 

“I want to talk about it again.” Ignoring you, he puts his hand under the water to test its warmth. “I’m not going to let it go.”

“No, you’re not, are you.”

“You honestly don’t want another one?”

“What I want is my wife alive,” he says as he strips off his silken sleep pants. “I already had to watch you die once.”

“I didn’t die.”

Feyd’s chest inflates. He’s been holding in an explosion for days and you don’t know how long he can manage that. “Fionn won’t be up for hours,” he says, getting into the tub and finding a comfortable position. “Come join me.”

“Feyd–”

“Clothes off.”

You sigh and slide the straps of your nightgown down your shoulders until it falls to your feet. With your hand in Feyd’s, you step into the pool of heated water and get cozy with your back to his chest. You lean your head against his shoulder as he takes hold of both of your hands, his fingers playing with yours. 

“I didn’t die,” you remind him, keeping a softness to your voice. You tilt your chin back and plant a kiss on his jawline to ease the truth of your argument so it doesn’t induce a bout of rage. You’re good at that, after years of dealing with his fits. 

“I thought you did,” he says. “For a moment, I felt it as if you did.”

“I know, but–”

“What if it were me?” he says, and your heart leaps into your throat at the suggestion. “Would you want me doing something again that almost killed me the first time?”

That's not exactly fair, and you want so desperately to spit those words right back at him. It’s not as if you haven’t had to catch your breath once or twice when he goes up against a prisoner who has not yet lost the skills that came from years of training on their home planet. You’ve cleaned up a few nicks on your husband’s skin from a blade, and yet, he continues to fight without you saying a word about it. Even if it went against your wishes, he would continue. 

“I watch you in the arena all the time,” you tell him.

“That’s not the same. You know I’m going to survive,” he says, and you hate that you can’t argue his point because you do know that. He’s too skilled. The nearest he’s come to serious harm—harm that would not have even come close to resulting in his death—was against an Atreides. And while it was a harder fought duel, there was nothing sloppy about it. Feyd still ended the life of that man with the beautiful maneuvers of a practiced warrior.

Reaching for the last bit of logic you can, you say, “You don’t know that I won’t survive.”

Your husband groans, a rumble that vibrates against your back. “I don’t know that you will,” he says. “Don’t you understand that? I need you. Fionn needs you.”

“Feyd–”

“I love you and you would dare to leave me. You’re fighting me on this for the second time now.”

You swallow hard, trying to remove the lump in your throat, before you twist your body so you’re facing him. The water sloshes over the edge of the tub as your legs straddle his hips, but neither of you give the mess and ounce of attention. Your fingers weave at the back of his neck. 

“I’m not leaving you,” you tell him. “I’m not leaving Fionn. I just want to bring more into our lives.”

“We don’t need more,” he says. “I don’t want more.”

His words poke a needle through your chest and into pumping organ behind your ribcage. “At all? You’ve never imagined it? A brother for Fionn? A little girl you could train to be as strong as you?”

Feyd’s eyes fall from yours. His fingers tighten at your waist. “Stop it,” he demands, and by the way he continues to avoid your stare you suddenly see that he has, in fact, thought about it; that it has been considered. All this time, you’ve assumed he brushed off the idea without so much as bothering to picture what another child would be like for your little family. But no. You were wrong. And you wonder what images of that future he’s conjured up in that mind of his. What scenarios he’s denied the possibility of simply because he is scared. 

“You have imagined it.”

Feyd huffs. “So what?”

“What’s it like?”

“Without you?” he asks. “Miserable.”

“And with me?”

Your husband takes a deep breath that exhales as a slow but heavy stream of air through his nose. “I told you to stop.”

“I can’t.” You press your forehead into his. His arms wrap around your waist and pull you in closer. “Feyd, I can’t. Can’t we just try?”

Feyd leans back and looks up at you, examining your features with an intensity that suggests he doesn’t already know the shapes and planes of your face by memory. It brings forth a blush that heats your cheeks; a blush he’s always able to work out of you, one way or another, even after nearly seven years together. It makes you want to make your baby right now, and if he agreed, and if your son was not sleeping just in the other room, you would. You’d touch him and harden him and slide down onto him, writhing and shifting your hips until he was groaning and filling you. 

“Please,” you whisper. Your hands plant on his cheeks. Your thumbs run across the sharp edges of his cheekbones and you move in to capture his lips in a kiss that then travels to his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Please,” you say between more kisses. You say it again, punctuating the word with a little nibble on his collarbone. 

Feyd shifts underneath you. You can feel him grow thicker against your core. With a suck in of air, he pushes your hips down harder onto his lap, but then he holds you still. And it’s for the best. You weren’t trying to start something anyway, not here, not now. 

“We’ll talk to the doctor,” he says as you rest your head into the crook of his neck. Relief floods your whole body. “But if he says no, then it’s not happening. And if he says yes but then something happens to you, I’m killing him, so you should be prepared for that.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you swear to him. And you do believe that, genuinely, in your heart of hearts. “And I’m always prepared for you to end someone's life. I wouldn't have married you if I thought you'd be any different.”

Feyd almost chuckles. “You didn't have a choice in marrying me.”

“Yes, but I wanted to marry you anyway,” you tell him. “Murder and all.”

---

A/N: thank you for reading. Let me know what you think. If you have any ideas or thoughts on the His series, I am open for requests.

[findmeinforks]

Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words

"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.

"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.

"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.

"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.

"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.

"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.

"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.

"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.

"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.

He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.

"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.

"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.

"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.

"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.

"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.

Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.

"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"

The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.

"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.

Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.

-

There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.

The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.

But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.

Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.

Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.

Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.

-

You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.

"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.

She returned your same smile.

"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."

You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.

What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.

Emily gestured to each of them,

"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."

You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.

There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.

You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,

"Better luck next time kid."

Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.

After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.

Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.

You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.

"I am so, so sorry. I-"

"No no it's fine, are you-"

Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...

"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"

A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.

Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.

An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.

-

His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.

Paul couldn't breathe.

He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.

You were beautiful.

Breathtaking.

Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-

No.

No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.

Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?

Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.

He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.

-

You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.

But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.

Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.

Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.

That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.

Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.

It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.

"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.

That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.

"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."

Paul.

-

"Leave me alone Sam."

Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.

He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".

That had been when he lost it.

He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.

"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."

Paul scoffed.

"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."

"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.

"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.

"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"

"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."

Sam sighed.

"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."

Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.

-

You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?

You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.

You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.

Damn, wolves must have good hearing.

"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.

He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.

He couldn't sleep either?

You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.

-

Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...

STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.

He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.

"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.

"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."

He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.

You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.

"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."

He chuckled.

"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."

"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.

-

He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.

The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.

"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.

-

His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.

"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."

You smiled.

"I'd like that."

To be continued......

[theminecraftbee]

Doc's about four beers in by now. It's just enough to loosen his lips, especially with Etho eating most of the pretzels so Doc can't eat them. Compared to almost any other hermit under these circumstances, Doc seems barely tipsy at most, but, well, it's not like Beef needs him drunk to vent his latest frustrations at the world, he just needs him tipsy enough not to notice he's talking.

"--and I just don't understand why people are so surprised, man. You--you all have teased me too much to be surprised!" Doc is saying. "Ren laughed at me. Laughed!"

He also, for the record, seems to need to complain about... apparently his husband? Which is new. Beef had been surprised. He's not going to say so, yet, because this is Doc's very belated NHO bachelor party--can they call it that when it's more "sitting around a TV drinking, eating snacks, and not doing anything because they're all too old to be partying", and when Doc is very clearly not a bachelor?--and that would be rude.

"That dog," Bdubs says loyally. "I can kill him for you. I'm the judge so I wouldn't get arrested and I'd make sure you get all his money as a widow."

"No, you can't kill him, man, I still need him for tax benefits!"

"What taxes?" Etho asks, sounding vaguely panicked.

Everyone stops to consider this.

"Beneficial ones," Doc finally says.

"I don't think that's what--I think you're misunderstanding your English again," Beef says.

"No, I'm always right," Doc says.

They sit in companionable silence for a few moments. Someone shouts on TV. The show is in Swedish. Beef has no idea what's happening. He's honestly just kind of waiting for someone else to notice.

"It's just. I don't get it, man! Why are you all acting so surprised I called Ren my husband? You! You all know me!" Doc says, somewhere between accusing and despairing, and hm, maybe these beers were higher alcohol content than normal, if he's already on despairing? "Ren and I have been--after season eight, making it official, it is only a natural thing, yes? But we had--he's asked to have my puppies. You've heard him say our babies would be beautiful."

"That dog," Bdubs says loyally again, this time in a much more suggestive tone.

"More than once," mutters Etho.

"It's not--I mean, we all knew you and Ren were... how do I put this?" Beef says. "It's not surprising that you two are. Er. Help me out here."

"Boning," Etho says.

"EXCUSE YOU?" Bdubs says, scandalized.

"Yeah. Boning," Beef says. "Doing the horizontal tango. Probably some vertical ones too. I mean, you're definitely into some things--"

"Fighting dragons," Etho dryly adds.

"THAT WAS STILL GROUNDS FOR DIVORCE," Bdubs shouts, apparently over being scandalized and moving straight to offense.

"Two seasons later? Man, you just wanted to wring as much alimony out of me as possible," Doc says immediately.

"And? I'm a judge now, I know these things."

"My point," Beef says, before they can start arguing again, or before Etho can point out that they hadn't ever really been married to get divorced in the first place. "My point. We, uh, all knew you two had a thing. It's just, uh, marriage is... different! It's different, and--"

"You didn't INVITE ME TO THE WEDDING!" Etho says, finally unable to hold it in. "Whyyyyyyyyy? Doc, I thought we were friends! I thought we were friends, Doc! I wanted to go to the wedding!"

"It, it was a little thing," Doc says. "A common law marriage as much as--"

"Hey, wait, why didn't I officiate it, huh?" Bdubs says.

"That's not fair, you can't be mad at me for not inviting you to the wedding, the moon had just exploded!" Doc says.

"It had?" Etho says.

"Yeah, well, I exploded too and I still would have shown up," Bdubs says.

"I don't remember an explosion?" Beef says.

"Wait, the moon did something?" Etho says.

"Focus," Beef says. "Look. Doc. Also, love you man, but I always figured that if anyone was going to propose, it was going to be Ren."

Doc scoffs. "Clearly you don't know my husband, then."

Everyone waits for him to elaborate. Ren, after all, is the one known for dramatic emotional appeals. While Doc is equally dramatic--that's why Beef is throwing a bachelor party for the great fit as opposed to off showing him that Big Salmon can still show someone how to sleep with fishes--he's not exactly great at emotions. Surely, he will elaborate on why Ren would never be the one to propose between the two of them.

He doesn't.

"Anyway, I think it's been obvious for, for years, and you all are morons, and--why is the TV in Swedish?"

"THANK YOU!" Bdubs says. "I thought it would be rude to point out."

"Oh, I like it, though," Etho says as Doc changes the channel to a home improvement show. Yeah, sure. Fits the vibes of this bachelor party as much as anything else. Beef grabs another beer. He pauses.

"Wait, you said a common law marriage. That means you haven't actually had a wedding yet, right?"

"Not really," Doc says.

Beef considers being reasonable, and then he lets it go.

"Dibs on planning it," he says.

"WHAT?" Bdubs says, rounding on Beef.

"I--hey, I didn't agree to this!" Doc says, as Beef begins negotiations with Bdubs. Etho laughs, louder than he normally does, and throws an arm around Doc.

"Let it happen, man. Let it happen."

It's a good party, and a good night.