#I need to resolve this or cut them out forever

[neverendingford]

.

blind intentions

committed to duty

dedicated to a life that no longer lives

what are you to me?

what am I to you?

you hate the people who are just like me

yet claim to love and value my life

what inequality lies unspoken?

who do you see when you look at me

what creature do you refuse to acknowledge

I leave my message

a final ultimatum

change your mind

or lay me to rest

I cannot live split in two

you cannot have the half of me you prefer

I did not kill myself

so you will have to do the job yourself

I cannot live a separate life in your mind

[emeraldspiral]

So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is its take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

[rebelumbrella46]

Let’s just be honest—The Umbrella Academy was essentially cancelled after Season 3, but given the massive fandom, Netflix gave them the chance to wrap up the story with a final season. It’s similar to what happened with Shadowhunters—it was cancelled, but after the outcry from fans, they were given two more episodes to tie things up.

For me, the first two seasons were masterpieces. They truly became my comfort show and introduced me to my comfort characters. This might sound cheesy, but it’s true—when the first season aired, I was going through a rough time in my life, and I held on to this show like my life depended on it. Season 2 arrived amidst the pandemic, and it was a light in the darkness for me as well. Even with the massive success of Season 2, I think Netflix hesitated to greenlight another season. I remember waiting for an announcement, and it felt like it took forever.

Season 3 was filmed during the pandemic, and if I recall correctly, Netflix cut the budget for visual effects. So, the season didn’t quite live up to the expectations set by Season 2. Regardless of its flaws, I enjoyed it, but I would have enjoyed it more if the writing hadn’t been so sloppy and, at times, cheesy.

But this last season? It feels like fanservice—and not even good fanservice. For example, the Lila and Five thing? The enhanced powers? The Jennifer Incident? All of it fell flat. Klaus’s storyline this season was basically what I wanted to see in Season 3, but it was delivered too late and added nothing meaningful to the plot.

But was the main plot really supposed to be about Jennifer? Who cares about introducing a new character in the final season instead of focusing on saying goodbye to the beloved main characters?

The subplots were boring. Klaus’s storyline was fanservice, but it felt like they just threw us a bone to appease years of fans asking for Klaus to get his comic powers. And it was insulting. Ben and Jennifer in love? Unrealistic and boring. The train station? Who came up with that cheap idea? I thought it would be a place built by Reggie, but there was no explanation at all.

The apocalypse no longer feels exciting or even important. There’s no sense of urgency anymore.

The family dynamics—the strongest part of this show—felt odd and weak. Pairing Viktor with Reginald was boring. Lila and Diego’s drama? Nonsense. And what was the point of Claire? I thought she would be the main conflict of the season, with everyone banding together to save a character we’ve known since Season 1, who has emotional ties to every Umbrella.

And where were the villains? To make it as interesting as Seasons 1 and 2, you need a great antagonist. Like Hazel and Cha-Cha, The Handler, Reginald, or even an antihero like the Sparrows, Harlan, or the Commission. Why not make Abigail the greatest threat? Or bring back some of the former villains?

What about resolving old family drama, so that if the show’s end was going to be the family sacrificing themselves, they could all go in peace?

Instead, they didn’t address Allison’s betrayal at all. They created a huge rift between Five and Diego. Nothing for Klaus and Ben. No Umbrella Ben. No Sloane. Why is Lila even here anymore? Why didn’t she just ditch out like Ray and leave Diego with the kids to be a single dad? That would’ve made more sense coming from Lila than from Ray, to be honest.

For me, the writers, producers, and directors knew this show was cancelled, so they didn’t even try anymore. For me, the ending of season 3 was meant to be the ending of the show.

I watched Game of Thrones after it ended, so I didn’t experience the same level of rage, disappointment, and betrayal that fans felt. But now, I do.

[theemporium]

blue-"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." nico being devastated he’s hurt and just needs to be held by his girlfriend

i made it a bit more emotional hurt than physical! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

29. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

.

It was bittersweet. 

He knew it was coming. The team knew it was coming. The fans knew it was coming. It had been a rough year with messy strategies, tough injuries and bad luck slapping them in the face after the season they had the previous year. It was rough and it weighed down on everyone and it was shattering. 

But, deep down, there was this little spark of hope in his chest. 

Hope that they could pull through and do the impossible. Hope that they could defy the odds and make it through to the playoffs. Hope that they would click and be the amazing team he knew they could be. 

He had so much fucking hope and it was completely washed away the second that final buzzer went, the reality that they had been eliminated finally settling amongst them as they looked at each other on the ice.

But Nico stepped up. He was the captain. He had these boys looking up to him and seeking him out as a pillar of comfort and reassurance. He couldn’t be moping around the locker room, not when he had to take care of his boys first. Not when he had to face the media and drag the interview out as long as he could so the other boys didn’t have to spend too long with them. Not when he had to deal with whatever debrief meetings and logistics the coaches and team wanted to have.

They may have been eliminated but he still had his duties to perform. 

He felt like he was running on pure muscle memory by the time he left the Rock, settling behind the wheel of his car with a heavy sigh. His brain was racing with a million different thoughts as he drove home, plaguing him with what if’s and could have been’s. Despite the exhaustion settling in his body, his mind felt far too wired and overwhelming and, fuck, he just wanted it to stop. 

And then he walked through the door and saw you cuddled up on the couch, drowning in one of his hoodies and a blanket his mother had gifted you both when you moved in, and the last of his resolve crumbled.

“Hey, baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and sweet and soothing as he dropped his bags at the door and quickly made his way towards you. He didn’t even hesitate as he practically draped himself on top of you, burying his face into the fabric of your—his—hoodie.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out because the words had been on the tip of his tongue. They had been lingering in the back of his head since the season had started, had been lingering after every loss and hardship the team and fans had to face. 

“Shhh, it’s not your fault, Nico,” you cooed, your arms winding around his body to hold him tight. Because somehow you knew what was going through his head, you knew the way he was spiralling, you just knew him. “None of this is your fault.”

“Just their faces—” he cut himself off with an unpleasant sound, something stuck between a sob and a scoff. Instead, he nuzzled himself closer like he could bury himself between your ribs and stay there forever. 

“I know, baby, I know.” Your fingers ran through his hair, your nails lightly scraping along his scalp in an attempt to soothe him. “Last year wasn’t a fluke, okay? This year was the fluke. Next season will be your season, I just know it.”

“You don’t know that,” he murmured, his words twisting the self-deprecating knife lodged in his heart since the season had started going downhill. 

“I know everything,” you corrected before lightly tugging on his hair until he lifted his head. You flashed him a soft smile, your hands gently holding his face as your thumb smoothed over the small scar on his cheek. “You’re gonna lead that team to the win you all deserve, Nico. I know that. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He could only muster a small smile.

“And I will happily remind you until you believe in yourself again,” you added before leaning over to peck his lips, feeling the tension in his body finally start to leave for the first time since he entered the apartment.

“I love you,” he murmured when he couldn’t find any other words to capture how he was feeling.

“I love you too, baby.”

.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

“Are you blind? I love you!” (“I Love You” Prompts List) + “kiss/touch me, everywhere” (Praise/Soft/ETC Smut Prompts) with Tony Stark please? 😃

Secretly in love

PAIRING || Tony Stark x Bounty Hunter!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 950 words

SUMMARY || You and Tony have been madly in love with one another for years, but to the outside world, it looks like you're harboring a deep-rooted hatred for one another. Feelings are revealed when it almost goes wrong during a mission, and the sexual tension between you two is finally resolved.

RATING || Explicit (E)

TAGS || Enemies to lovers. Idiots in love. Mutual pining. Misunderstanding. Use of Y/N.

SMUT || Oral (F receiving). Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!).

A/N || This drabble is part of Nicoline's Summer of Drabbles. I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for giving me this amazing idea as well as proofreading! I am forever grateful for you, bestie! 🤍

EVENTS @anyfandomaubingo || Bounty Hunter!Reader @fandom-free-bingo Maritime May || 'My Old Man's Got a Problem' @kinky-things-happen || Cunnilingus

@marvel-smash-bingo || Enemies To Lovers @mcukinkbingo || Trope: There's only one bed @sweetspicybingo Hurt/Comfort || Human shield

Photo: @ccbsrmsf1 || All other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

As soon as you got Steve's phone call about a meeting at Avengers Tower, you were on your way, knowing they would need your help once again. A few years ago, you were hired by SHIELD to do your job as a bounty hunter for them when they needed you, and today's one of the rare occasions they have asked for your help.

By now, you knew the drill. Get changed into your tactical gear before heading up to the meeting room, as they will brief you right before going on the mission. Just as you're about to head into one of the gym's changing rooms, you spot the man you're always looking forward to seeing: Tony Stark. However, you'd never tell him that because, to the outside world, you both have a deep-rooted hatred for one another.

He doesn't say anything as he goes to change, though he wishes he could. He has to hold up this facade of not liking you, but he would love to do nothing more than fuck you right then and there as he tells you how badly in love he is with you.

The moment you walk into the briefing room, you're greeted by the happy faces of Steve and Natasha and the seemingly emotionless face of Tony. He's less than impressed with your presence, but you're used to it by now.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Stark?" Natasha asks, making him glare at her when you can't help but chuckle at her question.

"My old man's got a problem with me being here, Nat. You should know that by now," you say, making her laugh aloud, and Tony rolls his eyes at your joke. Once you've taken your place next to Natasha, Steve explains the mission you've been called in for.

"Y/N, you're here to take Nat's place during the mission. While she's an amazing spy and fighter, we need someone with your abilities, so you'll be going on the hunt with Tony. This will be a perfect bonding moment between you two, and I hope you two will finally learn to behave during the mission. There's no one to save your asses when it goes wrong, so you two must work together to finish this mission successfully."

Once the briefing is over, Tony and you go to the Quinjet, accompanied by Steve, who gives you the last instructions before it's officially time to leave. During the trip, neither of you says much aside from a few short comments, and when you're there, the only messages shared relate to the matter at hand.

Only when Tony throws himself in front of you as a human shield is he getting a reaction out of you, and not one of hate. As soon as the mission is successful, you get to the hotel room and immediately turn to him to give him a piece of your mind.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Stark? I could handle it perfectly-" is all you can say before he cuts you off.

"Are you blind?" he asks with a pointed tone. "I love you!"

"You... love me?" you ask him, your entire demeanor softening as soon as the words leave your lips. After holding up this facade of being enemies, letting the mask slip momentarily feels good.

"I do, Y/N. However, when I first met you a few years ago, I thought you didn't like me, so I put up this front. I guess it was easier to hate you than to show anyone - and more specifically, you - how I'm feeling," he says as he walks closer. With every step he sets closer, your heartbeat steadily rises.

Rather than returning his words, you close the gap between you two as you grab his hair, your lips molding together with his perfectly. The moment your lips are pressed on his, a new world opens for you two, and you're not sure how you ever could've lived without him.

"I love you too, Tony. I want you to kiss and touch me. Everywhere."

With those words, Tony pushes you back onto the bed you were in front of. You land with a smile, enthusiasm, and a need for Tony seeping into every fiber of your being. With skilled fingers, he undresses you completely, leaving not a single inch of your skin covered, before stepping out of his clothes, too.

"I can't believe I finally get to have a taste of you. I've dreamt of this moment so many times, and now I won't let you leave this bed until it's time to go home," he grumbles as he gets onto the bed, your legs spreading as you're waiting for his arrival. As soon as he's comfortable between your thighs, he dives in with an enthusiasm that has you arching your back and pulling his hair, your hips grinding against his face, seeking the friction he's willing to give you.

"Close, I'm fucking-" is all you can say as he latches onto your clit, pushing you over the edge with a scream of his name. He doesn't waste any time as he climbs over you, his cock immediately lining up as he carefully works his thick length into you.

"That's it, you're taking me so well, Gorgeous. It's a good thing there's only one bed here because there's no fucking way you're sleeping anywhere else from now on," he tells you, and you nod as he pounds into you, only prolonging your high with every thrust.

When you two return from the mission, Steve and Nat look at each other approvingly, knowing their plan worked perfectly, and you two are happier than ever.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

The season is kind of a blur for me at the moment, and I'm sure I'll have a lot more to talk about as I rewatch it more slowly and with less hysteria, but here are my current overall thoughts! Under the cut for spoilers

Beginning with the things I liked, because there were many of them:

The voice acting was phenomenal. Everything with Claudia? Soren's tirade at Viren? Every single speech of Janai's? Top tier. I've rarely been moved by a performance as much as I was this season

Additionally: the music was on another level, especially in the final episodes. It made already-breathtaking scenes absolutely haunting, and I'm praying they do another soundtrack release soon

I adored everything about the janaya wedding. Their outfits were so good, their expressions were so full of love, and their speeches were absolutely adorable. I also loved Kasi and Gren as officiants, Gren's little "what are they going to do? Come with an army?" joke made me cackle. (Also: hearing "and her wife, Queen Amaya" made me cheer so loudly my throat still hurts a day later)

I've been a passive sorvus shipper since season 4, but episode 2 ratcheted that up about ten levels. Every one of their interactions was so good, I love how they have the stoic/silly dynamic but also establish that Soren understands Corvus's sense of duty and Corvus has just as much of a ridiculous streak as Soren. They have to get together next season, please please please

Rayla and Callum! Back together at last!! And we have (hopefully) a full season of them being together to look forward to after this. It was really nice to see them fully on the same page at last, and the mix of ease and nervousness in their affection felt really cute and authentic

Speaking of things I've been waiting for forever: RUNAAN IS FINALLY FREE. I'm so happy that plotline was finally resolved, and I'm very intrigued about where he's going to go from here in regards to his relationships with Ethari, Rayla, and Callum. I really like that they addressed how he treated Rayla during their last encounter and established how deeply he regrets it

In general, I really liked how many loose ends we came back to this season. It was great to get the whole story of Viren, Lissa, Soren, and Kpp'Ar, especially for people who haven't read the comics or novelizations. I was thrilled to see Aanya again and loved her prowess in battle and her friendship with Ezran

I love that Claudia's hair actually looks like it got cut by a knife. No magically even cut for her. Somehow she really pulls it off, though, so good for her

Things I wasn't as much of a fan of:

I wish we had gotten to see Callum and Rayla actually talk the whole leaving-for-two-years thing out. Callum seems to think he was in the wrong for giving Rayla the cold shoulder when she first came back, but in my eyes he did have a right to be upset, and I wish they would acknowledge that. I was thrilled when they got back together, but I think it would have landed a little better for me if I felt like their "breakup" had been fully resolved

Has Sol Regem's mate ever been brought up before? It felt like a weird thing to pull up in the middle of the climax. His scene with Aaravos was written and presented very powerfully, but I didn't really feel the impact of it because I was busy going "where did this come from?"

And finally, this is really just a nitpick, but if you wear a blindfold for your entire life, you will not be able to suddenly see when you take it off because your brain doesn't know how to translate the shapes and light around you into cognitive images. I know I can suspend my disbelief, it just kind of bugged me

Overall, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, and I think it was the most completely engrossed by a season so far. I'm begging and pleading for season 7 to be released sooner rather than later, because I need more and I need it now

[lumiheartszz]

I have a Revivebur prompt should you want it.

Imagine the reader, who use to be Revivebur's secretary back when he was president and was rather close to him (in more ways than one ;) ), finding out he came back to life then rushing to find him.

It's a nice reunion, but, well, 13 and a half years in limbo is bound to cause Revivebur to feel some pent up urges that he would love to resolve with the reader.

Im so desperate for this man.

MINORS DNI !!

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His lips were on your neck as you two held each other under the covers.

"Been so long, angel... I haven't seen you in forever..." He was touching you so much. He was starved for that physical contact. After all, 13 years of being alone messes your head up.

He trailed his tongue along the side of your neck, reaching the area under your ear.

"Oh, c'mon, Will... what's with you being so... affectionate, hmm?" You gently nudged his stomach.

"13 years of being isolated, not having anyone to spend time with... it really did fuck me up." He sighed, fingers fiddling with your waistband. His lips met your clothed stomach, kissing up to just below your tits.

"Getting touchy, are we?" You grabbed both his cheeks in order to get him to look at you.

"Come oooon, sugar... jus' let me..." Wilbur grabbed your waist, positioning you just above his crotch.

"I've been so needy for you in limbo, y'know? I've been so... deprived... of your delicious body." He cooed.

"Yeah? Sure you are, doll." You rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a kiss. You slowly grinded on him, making him nearly choke with your lips against his.

"Fuckin' hell, baby..." he hissed.

You watched him struggle to keep himself sane with a smug grin on your face. "Be a good boy, yeah?" You harshly pulled on his hair, resulting in him wincing in pain.

"Oh, you little shit," he spoke with gritted teeth. He was obviously pissed at how you tried to take control. He grabbed you, shoving you under him. Wil's hand gripped your neck, a choking sound being ripped right from you.

"What I say fucking goes, whore." He growled as he bit into your neck like an animal. You squirmed in pain, and at the same time, felt slick coat your pussy.

"Let me take a wild guess. You... you're getting turned on like the filthy slut you are, aren't you? Fucking answer!" He pulled on your hair, using it to shake your head when you wouldn't answer.

You gathered enough courage to talk back to him. "What if I am? Don't act like you hate me, you're as much of a kinky slut as I am." You had a mischievous glint in your eyes, and Wilbur loved it. Wilbur loved how you fought back to him. He loved you two's banter in bed. It turns him on in ways you don't get.

His lips crashed against yours at an alarmingly fast speed, his tongue moving in dizzying rhythms against yours. The kiss was sloppy, pulling moans from the two of you.

You both made out under the gleam of the moonlight, teasing and bantering with one another as you both hungrily stripped each other's clothes off.

He bit into your neck, hungrily claiming you as his, his for all eternity. You bit your moans back. You didn't want his already big ego to expand if you did, no, that was for later. This didn't go unnoticed, however.

"Make some sound, princess, make them know who you belong to." He dived into the crook of your neck once more, sucking more purple hickeys into it.

"Don't you- hah- think it's be hotter if you moaned too? I love hearing what I'm doing to you, y'know?~" you pulled him into a kiss, to which he reciprocated with equal fervor.

"Oh, I do, alright." His hands kept touching every inch of your beautiful body, but not where you need him the most, which made you involuntarily whine as he touched your inner thighs.

"Is something the matter, dollface?" He smirked. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Cut the crap, Wil." You hissed at him. Finally, his finger slipped inside your hole, making you gasp. All words from you immediately disappeared.

"Aww, cat got your tongue, princess?" He mocked. You became even more speechless when he sped his fingers up with a smirk on his face.

"Oh you bi-- AH!" You nearly lost it when he added two fingers at once. You gripped the sheets with all your might, squirming as you held your sounds back.

"You really wanna play this game?" His tongue suddenly licked against your clit, finally making you moan out.

"That's my girl." He kept on licking your swollen clit whilst he fingered you, and your orgasm fell onto you like a thousand buildings.

"Sh-shit, Will..." you shakily muttered, watching as he put three of his fingers in his mouth to take your slick in.

"You taste as sweet as always. Brings back certain... memories." There was a devilish glint in his eyes, one you noticed.

Suddenly, an idea appeared in your head. "Well, you definitely got worse at eating me out." This, as you planned, angered him.

"Yeah, if I got worse at eating you out, then maybe I can make up for it by fucking you." He spat with held-back anger.

"Do your worst, president. Ex-president? I don't kn--" he grabbed you by the thighs, suddenly thrusting into you. It did effectively shut you up.

"Look who's talkin'. You need to fucking remember who alone made you cum. Who's fingers did you cum on? Mine. Who's cock did you cum on multiple times? Mine again. It's. Always. Been. Me."

With every emphasized word, he thrusted deep and hard into you, involuntarily making you moan.

"I'll make you cum so many times that all you'll remember is how good I made you feel."

He started thrusting hard into you, somehow even harder than he had in the past. Embarrassingly, you're already so close. He easily caught onto this, of course. He felt you clench around him, and it really did boost his ego.

"Aww, you gonna cum already? But it's only been a few seconds, baby." He cooed in mockery. Almost coincidentally, you came as soon as he finished that statement. But oh, did he stop? No, no he didn't.

"Will, slow down~!" The next few words you babbled were incomprehensible at this point.

"What was that? I can't hear you, sweet thing." The feeling of overstimulation left you, and you soon felt your third orgasm coming.

"Wilbur, I'm--" "close? I know, baby." You started panting, tilting your head to the side. You felt him finish inside. With only a 2 minute break, you felt him start moving again.

Fundy and Tommy noticed your legs slightly shaking the day after.

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[itsabouttimex2]

Hi! I hope you're having a nice evening today! ♡♡♡♡

May I request for a platonic Yandere Chang'e with a son or daughter reader? either by blood or bond I'm ok with it 👍 she's one of my favorites characters of LMK (☆▽☆) Thank you! And sorry if my english it's kinda bad 😅

Moon Rabbits

(Thank you for the request, and your English is just fine, friend!)

Many things have made their way to your mother’s home over the years, she says to you. Offered from thousands of varying sources and souls, a collection of offerings and letters and antiques.

“But you, my little bunny,” your mother says with a loving smile, “are the greatest of all my treasures.”

With practiced motions, she combs through your tangled mop of hair, humming an ancient lullaby whenever she’s not verbally doting on you. It’s an old ritual for the two of you, your mother happily talking about how she had found you years ago nestled on one of her lunar shrines, wrapped in a bundle of blue silk.

“I have no clue who sent you to me, my sweet lop, and I might never… but they have my eternal gratitude, forever shining softly upon them.”

As always, she’s perfectly gentle with you, her hands careful so as to not damage even a strand of your hair or fur. Chang’e sets down the ivory comb and takes up a sapphire-encrusted hairbrush, lifting it to the tips of your leporine ears. She brushes slowly from the top to the bottom, smoothing the soft fur into place and grooming out tangles. Occasionally she’ll pause to softly pull out a tiny bit of soil or foliage- that you no doubt acquired from playing in her bountiful garden.

Occasionally you’ll receive an instruction to turn your head this way or that, allowing the lunar goddess to more thoroughly arrange the pristine fluff of your ears. Aside from that, her words are spent solely on adoring you.

It’s a routine you’ve long grown used to, spending each evening in front of your mother's mirror as she tends to your appearance. Chang’e finishes each grooming session with a fistful of sparkly hair-clips, the polished metal studded with glittery beads. Some in the form of rabbits, some in crescents, some mimicking constellations. Each one is carefully clipped into your hair, in part to keep your appearance tidy, in part proof of her influence over you.

It’s only when she presses a kiss to your forehead (because she loves the human part of you) and both of your tall, fluffy ears (because she loves the rabbit part of you) that she allows you to stand up and leave.

Both sides of you, flesh and fur alike, are worthy of being loved, she always reminds you.

Her love is conveyed through more than just physical touch, of course.

Your nature as a half-rabbit being provides you with several impediments, in diet and behavior and clothing. Each of these issues Chang’e tirelessly works to resolve.

On account of your strong leporine ancestry, your stomach struggles with meat. You lack all the proteins needed to break it down properly, which means that eating any leads to having it sit around in your stomach until you throw it back up.

Chang’e keeps an incredibly varied kitchen that never seems to run dry of unique dishes- she accommodates for your dietary restrictions with ease. There’s no end to what she serves up, each meal designed to be both tasty and nutritious. Fruit and veggie platters for snacks, usually cut into the shape of rabbits and stars. (She does this no matter how old you get. Cooking is her personal love language, after all. She never wants you to think of eating as something trivial or unfun.)

In terms of clothing, the only real restrictions you have are with your scut and ears- mild, all thing considered. Most of your wardrobe consists of skirts and shorts to prevent any restriction, and your ears are barely an issue. It's not like you need to wear hats- you live on the moon. You're hardly at risk of getting sunburned.

It's your temperament that proves most infuriating. The rabbit aspects of you go far deeper than the skin- they bleed into your brain, even. You find yourself skittish and easily startled, jumping at the smallest of shadows. Even a mild creak has you bolting off to your mother, who's always ready with a warm hug and a mug of something hot and sweet with a hint of bitter that just barely comes through.

And you’re always so sleepy afterwards.

Waking up on your mother’s bed is a common occurrence, frequently awakening to find yourself bundled under a load of cozy blankets. There’s always a snack on the bedside table, usually a sweet variety of fruit cut into hearts, paired with a refreshing drink.

It’s all so very loving.

So much so that it’s hard to know that something’s wrong. You have no frame of reference for a truly healthy relationship, having lived on the moon for all your known life. It’s only you and your mother and her dozens of bunny drones, equipped with cameras to send constant streams of your current activities back to her phone.

Only you and your mother and her cooking show, you standing in the background and helping her chop veggies, sift flour, stir pots, and decorate cakes. It’s enriching enough that you don’t get bored. It’s fulfilling enough to create a sort of satisfaction.

Is it really so bad here that you’d think of leaving? From what you know, Earth is worse- war, famine, disease, poverty- none of that exists in your mother’s domain. There’s no suffering or pain in your life. You drift through peaceful days with good food and a loving mother.

Is it really so bad here?

[balkanradfem]

So as you mayhaps now, I'm spending my summer preserving and drying food, and a big part of it is cutting up and drying zuchinni, which comes in every day and is impossible to keep up with. I made my own little drying stations by taking some produce nets that my roommates brought home, and sewing them onto cardboard boxes. This meant the net was suspended and I could put tomatoes, zuchinni, mushrooms, peppers or whatever I wanted to dry, on top of it, and leave it in the sun, and it'd be dried in two days.

Now this worked for the first few years, but now my plastic nets are falling apart. I've been trying to mend them, sew multiple ones together, but the plastic is too weak and is no longer staying in one piece. I have one little drying box left, and have to figure out a new solution to this (current produce nets are so weak I can't use them).

So, yesterday when I was heading to the garden, I found this big round netted-looking thing left next to a trash container. At first I couldn't tell what it was, but I was immediately thinking, omg, I could dry food on this thing, look at it, it's strong. Coming closer, I recognized it was a piece of a cooling fan; apparently someone's fan broke and they threw the wire bit away. The net wasn't fine enough to be good for drying vegetables; I could see how my small cherry tomatoes and mushrooms would fall trough. So I left it there.

But I couldn't forget about it. It just looked... so neat. I liked that netted circle. I became obsessed with figuring out various ways I could make a basket out of this, and harvest produce in it. I wanted to use it for something so badly. Finally, my mind conducted a perfect idea; I could tie strings onto the edges, suspend it, and hang it from the ceiling, and then keep all my fresh produce on it. This way, my produce wouldn't be taking up any counter space, it would be so beautiful suspended in the air on this round net circle, and since it's metal it could last forever. I could come home and put all my produce on a hanging basket and then just stare at it for hours.

Incredibly excited, I headed out and got my beautiful piece of fan.

Carrying it around my apartment, it immediately became obvious that there's no potential place where I could suspend it from; the ceilings in the building only have light bulbs hanging from them, and that's it. Nobody thought about how I might want to hang a basket and suspend it from the ceiling and keep my tomatoes in it, and I think that's on them. When I'm making my future home, I'm going to fill the ceiling with support for stuff hanging from it. That's how I'll use this, I decided, it's going to be a hanging produce basket for the place I build for myself. It'll be perfect and I'm already excited for it.

But then, I was confronted with the amount of zuchinni I needed to dry that day, and had another realization; while this net is too wide for cherry tomatoes or mushrooms, zuchinni slices are wide. They can fit in there no problem. And this is so big, I could dry a lot of it. I just need to wash it. I can put it on top of a cardboard box and not worry about it. They can't even slide off because the edges are curved in. And then later, I could weave my own hanging basket for the produce I want to suspend in my future kitchen.

And so, the problem of deteriorating plastic net was solved. I am now drying zuchinni on this incredible round net object. I am going to have so much dry zuchinni this winter. I feel like I resolved this issue in the funniest way possible, but the solution is effective and long-lasting.

[atopvisenyashill]

i’m seeing some discussion of the daemon / alyssa parent child thing invoking your interpretation of the fucked up saera / old man jae dynamic, but also of the alysanne / baelon dynamic, which i had never thought very deeply about. do you have any thoughts? really appreciate how you recontextualized jaehaerys btw, it’s well thought out and compelling and really plausible to me

It's definitely one I find fascinating and interesting, if kind of...opaque I suppose. I think Alysanne is very much projecting onto Baelon and Alyssa, in that she sees herself and her relationship with Jaehaerys in them, but like, she's also purposefully making their relationship into an echo of hers with Jaehaerys.

I think the fact that Alyssa is technically the second daughter is what really helps Alysanne project onto them - Aemon was meant for Daenerys, so when Alysanne sees Alyssa displaying very typical childlike behavior where she wants to play with her brother who is near in age to her, she decides this must mean they are in love the way she was "in love" with Jaehaerys, younger son. I think this is also why she gets so weird about Viserra attempting to seduce Baelon...for her it's almost like someone attempting to seduce Jaehaerys away from her. I think it almost ties back to her conflict with Rhaena and the way it never resolved. Rhaena and her have that argument about how Alysanne stole her crown - and Rhaena isn't wrong because there's no reason Jaehaerys shouldn't have married Rhaena or Aerea if he was so dead set on incest marrying, but he chose Alysanne, the "ugly" sister, just like Baelon "chose" Alyssa, the "uglier" sister...and then Rhaena and Alysanne never make up. Rhaena blames Alysanne for Aerea's death. Rhaena blames Alysanne for her unhappiness. Rhaena is not allowed to truly own Dragonstone. Rhaena retreats to Harrenhal and seems to completely ignore her family for the rest of her life. I think Viserra (and Saera) resemble Rhaena in look, while Alyssa obviously favors her mother, and Baelon likely favors Jaehaerys. So for Alysanne it's like,,, this is how it was meant to be. The "pretty" sister needs to get over herself, it's not the ugly one's fault that the Handsome King chose her, it was love!

For Alysanne, it has to be love! It can't be grooming, it can't be lust, it can't be because anyone wanted the throne. Love absolves her of every bad thing she might have done to make Rhaena's life worse. Baelon is not allowed to have loved another, to have lusted after another, but Alyssa. She has to be his true love, to prove that Alysanne is Jaehaerys' true love, and Alysanne has no responsibility for the way Rhaena's life exploded. This is why I think it makes sense that Baelon would have a bastard he refuses to claim like Ulf - he can't let his mother know that he still feels desire, or even wants companionship, it would break her heart. He has to be a grieving widow forever. I genuinely don't even buy that he wasn't interested in Viserra. I think he rejected her because he knows Alysanne had a plan for her, knows Alysanne would never approve of him remarrying, and doesn't want to let her down.

I wish desperately that we had a glimpse into whether this dynamic changed after he was named heir. As his mother's health is declining, does Baelon reach for her? The mother who resembles his long dead wife? Or does Alysanne perhaps associate him so much with Jaehaerys and with her own projections that she rejects him? After her marital rape, after everything she's worked for regarding Rhaenys inheriting coming crashing down, after Aemon's death, after Baelon doesn't attempt to give the crown to Rhaenys in any way...does Baelon become Jaehaerys in her mind as well? The son she worked so hard to turn into her Perfect White Knight is just like every other man. How can she look him in the eyes again? I've always felt that she cuts him off. Him, Viserys, Daemon, Aemma, I think she writes them all off in her mind and I think she never makes up with any of them. There's no argument, it's just a sudden wall she puts up between them. Baelon doesn't know how to bring it down because he's always taken his cues from her, so he doesn't try. Viserys wants it taken down but every time he tries it makes things worse. Daemon is too young to care, and then too angry to bother. She dies only on speaking terms with Rhaenys and Maegelle and Jocelyn, because she can't stand it, can't live with the fact that maybe these lofty ideals she'd been working towards were an illusion. She's only ever been drawing a charcoal window on the wall of her prison instead of breaking down the walls to be free.

[pocket-watcher]

I have a request maybe like a 'love sting' (a love poison/bee sting) type thing?

Your wish is my command!

It was dangerous travelling this far into the woods alone.

Countless magical creatures lived here, half of which he couldn’t even identify. He didn’t really care though. There was only one he was looking for.

The Bee.

You’re probably thinking of a normal honeybee; stripes, wings, cute little buzzing sound…

Stinger.

But these? Oh, you do not want to be stung by them.

He trekked deeper and deeper in search of the sweet honey that was needed.

Doubling over in pain, sweat upon his brow, he stiffened his resolve and marched on forward towards his goal.

Towards the honey to save him from his illness.

The branches snapped under the pressure, harsh wind roaring and cutting through his thick coat. But he continued.

Deeper and deeper.

Before he heard the faint buzzing…

This is it, he thought. A terrifying creature ahead but if he was strong enough he’d come out with a new life to live.

A future.

He peered through the branches and spotted a woman.

Which was strange. No human could survive the sting of a bee.

That was when he noticed her fuzzy skin. The antennae protruding from her head. The wings.

The stinger.

He ducked down quickly as she turned.

Okay.

The buzz of wings grew closer.

Right, well. It’s human-like, right? You can negotiate with it.

Right?

She parted the bush and revealed him.

“Oh, hello!” He said nervously. “Don’t mind me, I went on a walk and got very lost aha…”

Her bug-like eyes narrowed at him. He smiled weakly.

“Okay… you caught me. I’m here for some honey. I promise I mean you no harm!” He held his hands up in case she didn’t understand his words.

Her head cocked to one side.

Then she turned to move away from him.

He let out a sigh of relief before -

“Ow!”

Her stinger was buried deep in his abdomen.

She smiled as he felt the poison seep into his vein. He writhed and screamed, thrashing about until.

Wait a second.

He should be writhing in pain, but all of his pain had disappeared.

His body felt healthier than it had in years.

The loud thoughts and worries were quiet, replaced with a soothing comfort.

She stretched out her hand to him.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His thoughts were rewritten, transforming him from the inside out.

There was no pain. Not even where the stinger was still lodged inside of him.

He only wished to bask in her beauty.

No need for her honey.

Just her love.

Her gaze.

She pet his hair as he sleepily curled into her lap.

To stay with her.

Forever.

[hopefull-mindset]

Finally understanding Beast Mori (as Asagiri intended)

Hello everyone, I am hoping you’ll be nice about me talking about Mori for two seconds and express my thoughts about such a guy like this. This isn’t going to be some fancy analysis picking apart stuff like I’d usually want to or even me addressing every trait he has because I definitely don’t go into everything. This is me finally being at peace with Mori’s humanity.

Before you say anything, I’d just like to share my own peace of comprehension. So if you were similarly confused the way I was, I think you’d appreciate this (Or if you’re looking for a different approach on Mori).

Im sure most of you have read the manga adaptation, so just to let you know, I am going to be using passages from the official Light Novel translation and if anyone needs it, I can send it to them!

For anyone who’s decided to read, hello! Nice to meet you. I’m sure we’ve all shared the same confusion when confronted with Beast Mori’s difference in personality and approach. Thoughts like “Why is he so much nicer?” Or “Why does he care much more about how kids are treated, when he himself has treated kids the same way he describes in the past?”

How could this person be the same guy who was Mori the Port Mafia Boss? The war veteran who used Yosano the way he did? So we came up with many idea of why he’s different to justify it, but here’s the thing: Mori is the same person he always was, this is a universe where everything is the same, but different where Dazai chooses to intervene.

After a few days, I was able to recognize it but I couldn’t hold myself to acknowledge it. It’s hard to see a man who represents the dark, the Port Mafia, to the Armed Detective Agency’s light. I couldn’t wrap my head that such a controlling, manipulative man could have humanity like the rest of the characters.

Why was this so hard for me to see? Well two reasons— the fandom and how the anime cuts down Mori’s emotions when adapting canon material. This happens to Dazai too, but people are much more willing to talk about it compared to Mori. Now the fandom really does love blaming everything on Mori and that’s not the most constructive thing to do when talking about abuse narratives. I can’t blame anyone for taking this route when it came to Mori because of Asagiri’s poorly thought out choice with him…. we all know what I’m talking about. Elise.

However, I need some of you to understand that abuse narratives are never as simple as “oh, it’s all this persons fault because they’re a horrible person, so [character] is resolved from any guilt or responsibility”. This not only dumbs down the situation and seriousness of it, by mischaracterizing the abuser, you’re also mischaracterizing the victim as well and what they’ve gone through. You’re putting their story in jeopardy.

Bungou Stray Dogs is a story about human beings, morality, and what it all means. Mori, and in turn Fukuzawa, are important to understand Bungou Stray Dogs because they are in two pinochle positions that start this discussion of Morality. I am baffled that a story like this, one that approaches these topics with so much appreciation for humanity and nuance, has a fandom that doesn’t want to talk about what it has to offer.

Asagiri’s poorly thought out writing decision of a joke is going to have lasting effects with how Mori is going to be approached forever and I see this, but I think the little girl jokes are the least important thing to talk about because they have as much impact as the Tanizaki siblings do. He’s also written to be not a good person either, so you can dislike him easily, but how many of these characters are traditionally good people? Kouyou, for example, is not a “good person” and emotionally abusive in example to how she treated Kyouka. That doesn’t stop people from liking her friendship with Chuuya and making content with her.

So this attitude toward Mori had me lost when it came to him because I could see how much thought Asagiri puts into writing him the same way he does with so many, but I’ve seen so many disregard his humanity that I had no way to express any of my thoughts to sort out what to think about through anyone else when faced with Beast Mori. Everyone was as lost I was, and the people that weren’t never explained it in a way I could break that barrier.

So what finally made me wrap my head around Mori? It was exactly one conversation I had with a friend and it wasn’t even about Beast Mori in particular, it was just about Mori and his poor humanity while navigating how to lead. Everything just clicked with that.

(Dazai, Chuuya, age Fifteen)

This right here is where Mori tells us what he thinks his position means after the struggling we visibly see him go through. Is it an inherently correct conclusion to make? No, but does it make sense as someone who’s a leader of a huge, dangerous underground criminal organization? Yes, it does.

We have no backstory on Mori, but his poor humanity is easy to explain when he’s been in positions that require him to disregard his own and everyone else’s humanity for years now. As someone who’s seen war up close and a physician, these jobs require him to take control of the other person. Well in his mind at least, he sees these jobs and chooses to the route that’s most efficient.

It’s never positioned to be for himself though, he doesn’t take glee in what he does for self serving purposes, it’s always for the country, the city, the organization. His thought process is never the power hungry yearning we see everyone mistake it for. It’s never that he wants it, it’s that he needs it for everything to go well.

That’s exactly how he treats Yosano because even though it’s creepy to base your abilities looks on a little girl, that doesn’t stop him from seeing her use before her age and humanity.

His clinical utilitarianism is his core trait but also most disliked one from what I can tell in the fandom, and people tend to misinterpret it to make the more non-favorable view of him. But again, he’s not supposed to be the greatest guy ever and you can understand where these traits started forming. And again, to paraphrase another’s words: he’s cunning, but not power hungry.

He’s also not disliked by his subordinates and actually respected, he respectively enjoys the company, but there’s a mixed answer to that and that it is… nobody is going to listen to you if you don’t treat them with decency. Why would you expect a tool to work if you break them? One of his earliest lessons he learned with Yosano and leadership.

(Dazai, Chuuya, Age Fifteen)

For example, we all know this scene is manipulation. He’s baiting Chuuya with information while still treating the teenager with respect and enough honesty to form a bond. Chuuya is perfectly aware that he’s being used in the present and in the past, but he respects Mori as a leader objectively after his own considered failure and lack of control over the sheep, even if he didn’t consider himself one. I don’t think this honesty comes from nowhere because that quote, “only a Diamond can polish a Diamond”, came from Natsume in reference to himself and Fukuzawa.

He sees himself and Fukuzawa in Soukoku fondly, but I tend to rethink this quote time to time because at first it comes off as a quote about partnership and building off of each other’s good qualities to perfect their own, but the way Mori uses it here feels as though it’s positioned to mean that one of them comes out perfected and the other weared down. Pretty competitive if you think about it.

(Bungou Stray Dogs BEAST)

We’re finally at the part you’ve been waiting for guys! So what was my point for analyzing canonverse Mori? So as I said before, these are the exact same guy and all that word jumble? That was an extended version of what was communicated with me to finally get what was going on with Mori in this universe and why he’s suddenly in an orphanage.

Now I couldn’t tell what was going through Beast Dazai’s mind and where this decision came from instead of actually killing him like the rumor’s implied, but I can come close. I think that Beast Dazai recognized this potential of change either from the multitude of universes he was able to witness or recognized it in his own considering canonverse Dazai never does anything against Mori (even if he visibly dislikes him).

Possibility is one thing, the why is another. It was either that he saw potential and good that could come out of this in the long run, Mori’s intelligence and expertise still proves usefulness, less dangerous for Oda in the long run if he let Mori stay there instead of the Mafia, or all three.

I can say for sure though that this is better for Mori because after the years of being in atmospheres that require so much of him intelligently and exempt of any emotion involved for the sake of efficiency, being able to rekindle his humanity where nothing is expected of him except to raise kids in a non-exploitative context sounds really freeing to me. Considering he’s been there for 4 years, I find the development understandable.

Okay I’m hearing what you guys are saying again, “What about him saying he wanted to save Dazai? That doesn’t seem like typical Mori.” And I’m gonna say something really controversial: Well maybe he did.

Really though, I think he did care about Dazai and not because he saw a child struggling (think about Yosano and Q for 3 seconds), but because he saw himself in Dazai, which ultimately changed way more about their relationship than you guys think. There’s a lot of comparisons to Yosano and I understand where they come from because I think there’s a lot you can see similarities in, but Dazai is not purely a tool for Mori the way she was.

The avoidance of letting him die do come from his use and overall importance to the original plan of becoming the new boss, but I don’t think he would’ve left Dazai alone like that for 4 whole years after leaving the mafia if he didn’t care in some way way. What strikes me the most is how Asagiri decided to add “the man who raised Dazai”.

For Beast Mori, I think he’s had enough time to actually feel guilt and regret for Dazai as a person like a normal human being does. Oh I guess Elise is important too. Her aging up just meant that Mori has become less controlling and not like the little girl who he literally sees as a tool since kids are easier to manipulate. Can’t bring that energy to an orphanage, nope!

There’s better stuff out there about Mori that I think if you’re more open to thinking about Mori after this, you should check it out, these are just my thoughts recently. To end this off, here are two links to Asagiri’s own thoughts on Mori.

[danikamariewrites]

could i request azriel x reader or lorcan x reader with reader being a vampire and needs to feed but he says to feed on him but she’s scared she’ll hurt him. She finally does and he feels euphoria and it leads to smut👀

Take My Blood and Make Me Yours (SMUT)

Azriel x vampire!reader

A/n: I got two requests that were similar to this so I thought I’d combine them since they were similar. I’m going off my very little knowledge of vampires from Buffy, Twilight, and Supernatural so I’m making up half this shit as I go along lol

Warnings: blood, smut, slight sub!Az

You had held out longer than you expected. But going four months without feeding on a person, human or Fae, was driving you crazy. You felt like you were dying. Animal blood and whatever Amren drunk wasn’t cutting it for you anymore.

You always felt guilty when you fed on a person. It was either turn them or kill them and you didn’t like killing people unlike other vampires.

In hopes that your ‘sickness’, as you called it, would become less extreme. You had avoided being around Azriel. His scent had been too overwhelming the last few days. The urge to drink from him making you itch. Since he was out of the house you felt free to walk around the house.

Although normal food didn’t do much for you, you were addicted to sweets. Chocolates, sour candies, literally anything you could get you hands on. The flavors helped distract you for a while, especially the sting from the sour candies.

Lost in your sweets stash you didn’t hear Azriel come in through the front door. He lovingly squeezed the back of your neck, “Hi love. How are you feeling?” You scramble up from the table backing away from Azriel. A wild look in your eyes telling him not to come near you.

You put your hand out making sure he stayed far away from you. “Az no!” You scream, “please. Please I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t…” your voice cracks as you plead with him.

Azriel hated seeing you like this. You were far too pale, deep bags under your eyes from months without sleep, and your hair looked lifeless. “Y/n, my love please. I need you to listen to me.” You backed farther away from him all the way against the wall of the kitchen.

He kept approaching. Once Azriel was within arms length he gently laced your fingers together. Tears sprung from your eyes as his scent consumed you. Cauldron he smelt divine. And he probably tasted even better. Your mouth started watering at the thought of his sweet Illyrian blood on your tongue. How sweet he would taste. How it would be if he turned and stayed with you forever, as if he weren’t already immortal.

But you had made a promise to yourself when you started seeing each other and again when the mating bond snapped. You would never taste him. You were afraid you’d turn him into something else he would resent or lose control and drain him. Leaving you broken without your mate.

You tilted your head back to avoid his gaze, your tears falling into your hair. “No Azriel. I can’t. I won’t use you.” Like the thoughtful and loving male he is, Azriel had offered himself to you so your suffering would end. You had refused him every time.

“Nothing is working for you. It’s been over a year since you fed from a person. Please let me help you.” You could tell he was in pain seeing you like. Azriel probably felt your pain down the bond and it mustn’t have been easy for him. “Y/n I trust you enough to let you feed from me. I know you could never hurt me.”

Your resolve was crumbling at his sweet words. “Please y/n. My heart breaks to see you like this. Please, just enough to sate the hunger and then you can stop.” You nodded your head whispering out a weak ‘ok’. You couldn’t believe you were breaking your promise. Gods, what was wrong with you.

Azriel was chest to chest with you. You collapsed in his arms letting out small sobs. Azriel kissed the side of your head, scooping you up in his strong arms. After letting out one final cry he asked, “Where would you be comfortable baby?” His question made you pause.

You were about to drink his blood and he was asking you where you’d be most comfortable? This just reminded you of how selfless Azriel is. You didn’t deserve this male. “Wherever you’re comfortable Az.” You mumble into his shoulder.

He started heading up the stairs toward your bedroom. While you were relieved your pain would be over soon, you were terrified you’d harm Azriel.

Before you knew it Azriel was sitting on the bed with you cradled to his chest. “We can take this at your pace.” You nod against his chest. Moments pass as you sit still. Taking a deep, nervous breath you lift your head to meet his sweet hazel eyes.

You cup his face and run your thumbs across his cheeks. “Thank you, my love. You have no idea…” he covers your hand with one of his large scarred one. “I’m doing what any good mate would. I love you.” You were at a loss for words as you teared up again. “I love you too.”

Leaning forward his scent overwhelms you. He’s night, rain, mist, and everything beautiful in the world to you. Part of you was excited to get a taste of him. All your worries left your mind as you pressed your nose into the side of his neck. His soft, supple neck.

You licked from his pulse point up to just under his earlobe. Straddling him, you move your mouth back down so you hovered just above his pulse point. You left a small peck on his warm skin. “If it gets too much or you think I’ve gone too far, do what you have to. Even if that means hurting me.” “I…ok.” You heard the hesitation in his voice.

You gave his neck one last kiss, letting your fangs slide out and scrape against his skin. Finally, you skin your teeth in, biting down on Azriel his blood starts to seep out and into your mouth. The second the thick red liquid hit your tongue an electric shock went through you. Azriel’s shadows were going haywire as they wrapped around you and their master.

He tasted even better than you imagined. Cauldron, he was the sweetest thing you had ever tasted. Having Azriel like this did things to you. The way he willingly gave himself to you and tasting the most delicious blood you’ve ever had, had you grinding down on Azriel.

Azriel moaned, gripping you tighter to him. You were surprised when you felt his hips buck up into you. “Fuck baby. Feels good.” Holy shit, Az was enjoying this as much as you.

You had your fill a few mouth fulls ago but you stayed sunken into his skin, lapping up a few drops. You felt heavenly. Like you were new again and finding out what blood tasted like for the first time.

Pulling your fangs from him Azriel whimpered. The sound went straight to your core making the slick in your panties more prominent. When you could finally focuses on your surroundings you could feel Azriel’s hard cock through his pants.

You sat up, stretching your arms, pushing your hair up and letting it fall seductively over your shoulders as you let out a seductive hum. You much better. Your skin returned to its normal shade. Your eyes vibrant and full of life. You gave Azriel a dark smile, his blood coated your lips teeth.

Azriel’s shadows relaxed, going back to their spot on his shoulders. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Azriel grabbed you pulling you into a bruising kiss, licking at your sharp teeth. You moan into his mouth forcing your tongue into his, dominating him.

You took control from Azriel, ripping your nightgown off and clawing at his shirt with your sharp nails. He rips it off and you undo his pants. Sliding them down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You take him in your hand running your thumb around the head. Kissing up his jaw you stop at his ear nibbling at it. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you? My brave boy.” He let out another whimper, loud and unashamed. “Yes, fuck please baby?”

You run a finger along the ridge of his wing up to the talon. Azriel tenses up under you, his cock twitching in your hand. Getting to the talon you slowly run your finger down the vein, onto the red and gold flecked membrane. Azriel moaned, gripping your ass hard enough to leave fingerprints. “Please y/n, I need you please, please, please.”

You let out a dark laugh. Sitting up you lay your hands on his chest forcing him back into the headboard. “Such a good boy saying please. You’ll get what you want baby.” Azriel let out a harsh breath at the new praise from you. “You like that?” You say in a tantalizing voice. “You like being my good boy?”

“Yes. So much.” You hum running your hands down his abs. “Good Azzy, good.” You peck his lips and line his cock up with your entrance, teasing him by spreading your slick around your folds. Finally you sink all the way down on him. You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being connected.

You start rocking back and forth on him, your eyes fluttering. “Gonna help me ride you baby.” Azriel wordlessly bent his knees and brought his hands to your hips. You started bouncing on him. Azriel picked you up, slamming you back down faster and faster as he chased his high.

The room smelled of blood and sex. The sound of slapping skin echoing as praised Azriel. A few more thrusts and you were coming undone together.

Azriel’s head started to fall backward. You cupped the back of it before it could hit the headboard. His eyes screwed shut. You laid your forehead on his rapidly moving chest while you both caught your breath. “Fuck.” You panted. Azriel lazily snaked his arms around your waist. Slipping into a laying position with you still on his chest.

“Azzy we need to get cleaned up baby.” You squeezed his bicep signaling for him to get up. He shook his head against the pillow. “Can’t. Just need to lay here with you.” You weren’t going to argue with him. You were spent and ready to sleep for the first time in a while.

tags: @rigelus @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @msiecrane @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

[citrusy-lemons]

pancake-cakes

tasm!peter x reader

summary: late night cravings bring out some deeper feelings.

author's note: HOLY SHIT, count on me to go MIA for a month after posting. honestly tho i'm so sorry, i've got school and extracurriculars and projects and shit and i haven't really gotten time to write and my schedule is still super hectic, hopefully i'll be able to get other stuff out soon but no promises :/

let me know what you think? constructive criticism is welcome and please be nice :)

see, the middle of the night wasn't meant for this. it's to sleep and dream and pee.

not for baking a cake without having most ingredients of the cake. but you'd gotten a sudden craving and it was a weekend tomorrow, so bad decisions were inevitable.

did you have a million assignments to do? maybe. but peter also had a million assignments to do and he was still here, so technically, he's also making bad decisions. he was aware of that fact.

mind you he did try to convince you to go back to sleep at first but you wore him down. he didn't put up a big fight, he never did, against you.

he's convinced himself that he was only there to watch over you and make sure you didn't slice a finger or spill the flour, not to help you out with your late night shenanigans. but he was cutting up the strawberries so, really, he didn't have a strong resolve.

"you know, i think that when the box says 'pancake mix' you're supposed to make pancakes," he said, turning to you, who was reading the back of said box.

were you trying to bake a cake in the middle of the night with pancake batter cuz you didn't have the stuff for the cake and didn't want to go to the grocery store to get it? kinda. would peter have gone and got the stuff himself if you'd asked? yes.

"i didn't listen to you the last 17 times, i'm not gonna listen to you now, and besides," you said, pouring the mix into a bowl, "a pancake is just a cake but made on a pan instead of an oven. we're just changing the recipe a bit," you shrugged, like it was obvious and he was the stupid one.

"there are so many things wrong with that sentence, i dont even know where to begin,"

"here's a hint, don't."

you were being mean, you knew that. you didn't mean it. peter knew that. and you knew that peter knew that but you would apologize later. he knew that. he sighed dramatically.

"you wound me,"

you rolled your eyes at that. pretending to be annoyed at him was easy. wiping the smile away from your face when you were around him wasn't.

"if i had a dollar for every time you're wounded, i'd be filthy rich."

he glanced up at you. he knew that that wasn't completely a joke, it had a bittersweet tone to it. was that the reason why you were up at this ungodly hour? peter knew that you'd been stressed lately, he didn't know he had a hand in that.

"hey, you wanna tell me what's up?"

you didn't meet his eye, but you did stop fiddling with the bowl. almost immediately, you grabbed the knife out of his hand, mumbling, "you're cutting them all wrong,"

you both knew that wasn't true. one of the perks of having grown up with may was that peter was a fantastic cook. he'd been doing this sort of stuff forever. you needed to get better at excuses.

he gently laid his hand over yours to stop you and said your name softly, pleadingly. a long pause. you complied.

"it's just that," you started with a sigh, and dropped the knife, "you're my best friend peter, and i know that being spiderman means a lot to you," hesitation creeps up as you get to the actual issue. peter senses a 'but' coming. you look at him.

"but you come home every night with bruises everywhere, in pain, and i know you say that they'll go away in the morning and they do but," you're rambling now, he doesn't stop you.

"you have to see it from my perspective, i-" another sigh, you look away, "i get scared, peter."

oh. you were worried for him. he wonders how he didn't realise that before. that time he came home with a stab wound and you looked like you were going to cry he thought you were nauseous at the sight of blood. peter was an idiot.

"i know i shouldn't but i dont like the thought of you getting beat up every night." you were talking with your hands now, "imagine how you would feel if i came home with bruises all over my body and told you not to worry and that i'll be fine in a couple hours." you looked at him again. there was a sort of pain in your eyes. peter wishes it weren't there.

"it doesn't feel good peter. and you assume that i'm supposed to be okay with it?" you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, turning back to the strawberries. your hands were shaking.

peter thought about it. about what you'd said. you were scared for him and he understood that. it couldn't have been easy to be with someone like him. but he couldn't very well abandon spiderman. it was a part of him now. he knew that you knew that, but at the same time, he understood your point.

he thought about how he'd feel if the roles were reversed. if you came home with the type of wounds he did every night, he would be terrified. he couldn't blame you, of course he couldn't.

but he was spiderman, he had a responsibility, an unspoken vow to this city. he had opportunities and powers that no one else did, and he wanted to do good with it.

he hadn't asked for it, but he still had it. if he gave up being spiderman, he didn't think his conscience would let him live with it.

"i'm not asking you not to be spiderman," you spoke, finding your voice, "of course i won't do that. i'm just saying..." you trailed off, unsure of what you wanted and whether you were allowed to have it.

peter took both your hands into his, silently begging you to look at him. you did.

"i know what you're saying, and i understand. i don't blame you, i get where you're coming from and i promise, i'll be fine," he said, softly. he knew you were anxious about his safety.

"i can't give up being spiderman, and i know that's not what you're saying, but you have to understand, i can't not do it, it's a part of me, and i swear i will be more careful," his brown eyes bore into yours, willing you to understand. you blinked and unconsciously looked to the floor.

"but what if, being careful isn't enough one day? what if it isn't just some robbers or burglars but some other things? what if it's one of those aliens or mutants or something and you can't defend yourself? what am i supposed to do then, pete?"

you closed your eyes again, trying to stop the tears. peter's heart was tearing itself knowing that he was the reason for them. how could he tell you that him being the cause for your tears hurt more than any knife in the world?

"hey, look at me," he said, searching for your eyes. you shook your head but looked up at him anyway, the tears in your lashes resolutely not giving in to gravity.

"nothing is going to happen to me. i've handled stuff like that, you know. i know you're worried and upset but i promise, nothing will happen. you need to trust me, okay? we're going to be fine. please, I need you to trust me."

he said your name like it's the last time he'll ever get to, not in a way a friend is supposed to.

you sniffed, "i trust you, i do. it's this city that i don't trust," you steeled yourself, "but if you're sure, and you believe we'll be fine, then i do too."

he cracked a smile then, and pulled you in for a hug. a tight one. neither of you let go for quite a few minutes. you relished in it.

"god, okay i know i'm being silly, i'm sorry," you said after you'd pulled away, rubbing at your eyes.

"you're not being silly, don't be sorry. it's completely okay and valid. don't ridicule your thoughts, you're allowed to feel," peter said, in a scold-ish manner that he'd no doubt learnt from may.

"and please step away from the strawberries, and go back to butchering your so-called 'cake'," he said with a teasing smile, bumping his hips into yours to move you back to the bowl of pancake mix.

you scoffed incredulously, back into your playful demeanor, "excuse you, i would have perfected this pancake-cake if i weren't feeling sleepy right now, so, unfortunately for you, you won't get to taste this deliciousness, whenever i do get to make it,"

"oh, what a tragedy, i won't get to torture my tastebuds with whatever concoction you manage to brew up,"

you shoved at him, not that he moved an inch, and grabbed the plate of cut strawberries.

"just for that, i'm gonna eat these strawberries in bed using your pillow as a table, and you know i can be a very messy eater," you laughed like an evil sorcerer and ran towards the bedroom.

peter, horrified at the thought of sleeping on a sticky pillow, ran after you, forgetting that he had sticky hands himself. (pun intended, i'm sorry i couldn't not do it)

"come back here you!"

the pancake mix in the bowl, the half pack of strawberries waiting to be cut, and the anxiety were all left forgotten back in the kitchen.

[ryin-silverfish]

Stray thought: something I found the "SWK is manipulated into the Havoc!" take often obscures is his fear of death. Y'know, the very reason he begins his quest for immortality in the first place, and I'm glad the LMK show at least paid some homage to.

Death is but one of the many sufferings that accompanies existence and samsara itself. So is his fear of death and the desire to avoid it. The problem is? The way desires and attachments work, getting what you want doesn't solve the deeper issues.

First, he sets out to avoid death for himself. Then he did that, and also made death null for as many of his fellow monkeys as he could find. But it isn't enough, no.

His own immortality will not grant the safety of all of his subjects, his friends, and all the good stuff he has ever gained that rightfully belong to him, mind you, and he is responsible for. So he just needs to find a way to hold onto them, forever and ever and ever.

Since he has an abundance of creativity and intellect, but not the wisdom to match, his solution is to find the "Hows" rather than asking the "Whys".

Keep stacking up the powers, the immortalities, the allies, the weapons, the victory counts——which eventually became its own rewards, the thrills, the satisfaction of getting away with yet another daring heist, the feeling of invulnerability.

But let's go on a tangent and talk about book!SWK. When he came back after getting banished, he found his monkeys bullied by the Monstrous King of Havoc, wrecked the guy, and rescued his subjects. Immediately afterwards, he emptied the armory of Aolai Kingdom to arm his monkeys and robbed the dragon kings blind to arm himself.

Yeah, seeing a bit of a connection here. He is pulling off these heists to protect against perceived threats to him and his people. Then, moving on to the First Havoc, when he came back to his monkeys, he was surprised at just how much time had passed since he departed for the Celestial Realm——10+ years in the Lower Realm!

Yet, after the First Havoc is resolved, he happily stayed in the Celestial Realm for half a year, without remembering that meanwhile, at least a century had passed for his monkeys and demon allies. In a sense, he had become detached from his subjects, despite his first instinct still being "bring my buddies all the divine wine" after he got sober and returned to them.

I don't know you, but I feel like he probably expects everything to stay the same while he was gone. He isn't yet selfish, but certainly self-absorbed, in that he doesn't seem to realize that his actions can have consequences for people other than himself.

Like, if he is in his old "Monkey King" mindset, he may have comprehended that the Celestial Realm will treat him and his monkeys as a single entity that will be collectively punished for his misdeeds. But by becoming the Great Sage, he has drifted away from his duties as a king, which sets the stage for his behaviors during the Second Havoc.

After the 72 caves of demon kings have all been captured during the first wave of attack, his reaction is basically "lol, at least they didn't get any of my monkeys". This, I think, is the point where he is showing true selfishness instead of just being self-absorbed. Like, if I were one of his non-monkey allies and I heard that, I'd be pretty pissed.

The thing with the unrestrained freedom of the Havoc is, by cutting himself loose from all the rules and norms and disregarding every potential consequences, he is also unknowingly severing his tethers to others and alienating himself from his people.

Which is how I interpret SWK becoming so disheartened when his epic battle with Erlang terrified his own subjects into a rout, he just turned and fled——he realized that they, too, were seeing a monster.

He is no longer fighting for his people's safety, but an idea of them, who will always look up to him and do okay without him and never perceive him as a threat, and when that idea is shattered, so does his will to fight on.

I feel like the same could be said for his pursuit of immortality and power: it started off as a way to rid himself of existential fear and defend against concrete threats, but the list of "things I must do to secure my happy eternity and what is rightfully mine" just keeps growing longer and longer, until he's only focused on that sweet, sweet feeling of reward whenever he ticks off a checkbox and tunes out everything else.

After all, the more you have, the more you can potentially lose. A never ending cycle, exacerbated by his desire to never lose, until it all comes crashing down, figuratively and literally.

Back to LMK: People always point out that Azure worships this idea of SWK, and never quite sees SWK as his true, flawed self. Which I agree, but also: SWK does this too. He, too, loses sight of the actual people he's fighting for.

"I did it for US!"

The thing with a claim such as this is, multiple people can all try to do everything for the idea of "us", instead of something that may actually help each other, then feel wronged when their efforts essentially amount to nothing.

"We were all on a path of self-destruction."

For this statement to land, the self-destruction has to genuinely be each character's own doing. The fallout can, and is indeed magnified by what the others did or didn't do, but ultimately, the causes of their consequences come from within themselves: their own obsessions and attachments.

And making SWK the exception, the innocent figurehead and scapegoat, removes the complexity from the character while outright ignoring the few implications of the show that actually have some basis in book canon and are kinda interesting.

I rest my case.

[distant-velleity]

cat got your tongue?

Summary: Five times Yuhua didn't say what he thought and one time he finally snapped at someone other than Ace (verbally. You don't get the physical beatdown yet). Word count: 3.6k+ A/N: LMFAO okay so. I had this idea like 3 weeks ago but I only got around to writing it recently. It's ... honestly somewhere between serious and slightly crack treated seriously but yk fuck it we ball. No beta. Outsider POV. FloYu crumbs and everything. Let's go. (Also a sneak peek at my new OC :))) ) Taglist (lowk forgot who's on this so uhhhhh. Some people might have been tagged incorrectly): @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @casp1an-sea @nahelenia

@boopshoops @skriblee-ksk @nemisisnemi @nyx-of-night @scint1llat3

@the-banana-0verlord @beneathsakurashade

~

I. 

One day where he can make it out of the cafeteria in peace. That’s all Florian wants. And yet—

“Hey, freak. Where’s that meal combo you promised to get for me? And the homework you said you’d do for me?”

Eeeek!!!

Florian almost bursts into tears on the spot when someone in his grade, a burly bear beastman, grabs him by the back of his collar. It hasn’t even been two weeks into the school year and this guy, Darren, has made it his personal mission to target the weakest student he could find. 

“Uh—um—I—” Aaaahhhh!! Get me out of here!!!!! “M—My housewarden, Rosehearts, he… He caught me trying to do your homework for you, a-and…”

“Bullshit,” Darren snaps, “You—”

He’s cut off when someone bumps into him—that someone being none other than the magicless assistant, Yuhua. 

Yuhua. Florian’s saved! He’s really saved! Surely, the person who’d suddenly gotten involved with Heartslabyul’s tyranny and pulled off such heroic moves can do something about this…!!

“Whoa… Sorry. What’s going on here?” asks Yuhua.

Darren glares at him, and Florian wilts from second-hand fear. “Nothing, just a talk between classmates. Keep moving.”

Florian gives Yuhua the most pitiful, pleading, desperate look he can in the hopes that it’ll communicate a cry for help.

It seems to work, because the TA turns to the other freshman and tilts his head. “Yeah… That’s definitely all that’s going on? No intimidation or anything?”

“How’s any of that your business?”

“Hey—” Yuhua throws up his hands in a placating gesture, although his expression looks very bothered. “I’m just asking…”

Well, that doesn’t work. Darren lets out a low growl from the depths of his throat. “Who the hell do you think you are, seriously? You think a bunch of rumors are gonna make me afraid of you? Fuck off already.”

Yuhua frowns. “Then… Then maybe you shouldn’t consider doing this in the middle of the cafeteria if it’s private business?”

“Are you kidding me?” Another pissed off growl, and Darren shoves Yuhua. “I could burn you to ashes like it’s nothing. Don’t forget that you’re magicless.”

It’s not directed at Florian, really, but he can’t help but wither and shrink into himself even more on Yuhua’s behalf. Scary… He wants to say something to defend Yuhua, to say that everything’s fine, but—when he looks over at the TA…

Yuhua opens his mouth automatically as if to say something, then closes it. Florian isn’t nearly good enough at reading that kind of complicated expression yet, but he seems to consider something deeply for a second. “Jeez… You know what?”

“What?”

Florian stays silent, eyes wide. He mentally echoes the question—what? Did Yuhua come up with a genius plan to de-escalate the situation? Or to retaliate? Please, please, say this knight in shining armor will do something—

“I just remembered, Crewel needs Florian for something~” Putting on a smile that seems fake even to Florian, Yuhua switches up his mood like it’s nothing. “Sorry. Maybe we can resolve this another time.”

Florian and Darren blurt out, “Huh?” at the same time. 

“Come on. He won’t wait forever.” Yuhua pats Florian on the shoulder and uses that to quickly weave them into the crowd of students, making their escape. As much of an escape as it can be called—they’re really only saved by being smaller compared to the beastman, small enough to get through the lunch line mob.

Sigh…

To be honest, Florian was expecting something a little cooler after seeing Yuhua’s defeat of Riddle, but as long as he’s safe for now…

—

II.

It’s a beautiful day outside, the birds are chirping, and the flowers are blooming… something like that. Meanwhile, Ace could be doing something fun right now, but he’s stuck doing an assignment for potions class. Collecting ingredients in the botanical garden… does it get more boring than that? Someone, free him already.

At least he’s pretty sure Yu’s around here somewhere. So, once he’s done collecting a jar-ful of some plant with a name too long to memorize, he’s off to find his yellow-eyed partner in crime.

Making sure to avoid the tropical zone (Yu had warned him about a… uh, certain lion beastman taking naps there), Ace navigates the garden with the ease of a slightly-familiar tourist. The TA had said he’d be near the entrance, so—

“Well? What are you just standing there for?”

…Huh?

Ace turns a corner on the path and is immediately greeted by a sight he probably should have expected—a fight, or something, a commotion smack in the middle of the botanical garden.

“You—Is there some cue I’m missing here?” asks Yu, and Ace realizes with some horror that he’s holding a very obviously bruised cheek. Umm, what the fuck? “Is this suddenly your… territory, or something?”

The other guy, the one who’d spoken earlier, crosses his arms. “No… but I told you to scram already, so scram. Just seeing a magicless charity case here makes me sick.”

Magicless charity case. It’s not the first time Ace has heard those words directed at Yu, and it definitely won’t be the last. Still, it makes his blood boil, and by the looks of it Yu is getting pretty pissed, too. 

Ace steps forward, finding his place next to Yu. “Uh, who the hell even are you?” he asks the other guy. “Don’t talk to Yu like that.”

“Ace?” Yu blinks. “What are you—”

“See? A charity case.” The other guy tsks. “You even need a freshman to help you out.”

No, seriously, what is this guy’s deal? What did Yu even do to warrant getting hit and treated like this? Ace swears the TA is a magnet for trouble. 

“He’s not—” Yu closes his mouth, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, then. Have it your way. Ace, did you get everything you needed?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Even though Yu is a solid eleven or so centimeters shorter than him, Ace finds himself being dragged out of the garden by the coat lapels. He stumbles, but Yu keeps pressing forward, storming away until they’re well out of earshot from that prick.

Finally, Yu lets go.

“What was that?” Ace demands, straightening his labcoat to the best of his ability.

“I don’t know,” mutters Yu. “Some asshole. I don’t even know his name.”

“Okay. And why did we just leave like that? He hit you, didn’t he? And what he called you—you’re just gonna let that slide?”

Ace is, to be frank, nothing short of bewildered. Doesn’t Yu have any sort of dignity, a sense of, what, honor? Yes he does, Ace is pretty sure he’s seen it, so why didn’t he just… you know… let himself be mad?

Yu rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. There were still other students there, you know. I didn’t want to cause a scene.”

Cause a—

“Now, can we go to the infirmary? I don’t like talking to the nurse on my own.”

“You—”

Oh, what the hell. 

Ace doesn’t get it at all, he wishes Yu would have stood up for himself, but fine. That stupid bruise won’t heal itself.

—

III.

To call the Mostro Lounge boring would be inaccurate. With a bustling population of both students and employees at most times of the day, there’s always some entertainment to be had for Jade. Especially when he’s on the job, serving drinks and handling disputes.

But, well… That isn’t to say he minds when there’s a bit of additional drama. Especially on the day when Azul has asked Yuhua to cover someone’s shift.

CRASH!

An Ignihyde student shoves the TA, although it looks like a mere accident—a rush to get back to his well-earned seat after using the bathroom. Consequently, the drinks for their table are spilled… all over Yuhua, who’s been knocked to the ground.

“What the hell?!” demands the student. “You clumsy little bitch—those were our drinks!”

Stunned, Yuhua is frozen, staring at the fallen drinks in shame. “I—”

Oh, dear. There’s a bit of a berth forming around them, multiple people craning their heads to look at the source of the shouting, but Jade can get a good look even from this distance. 

“I can’t believe this.” The student continues to go on a tirade, complaining about the service, about whoever let Yuhua work—and finishes off with, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Oh my—what arrogance. 

Jade is rather certain, actually, that this Pomefiore student was one of many who had been turned into anemones by Azul just a few weeks ago. It seems that he’s painfully unaware of how much Yuhua had sacrificed to save his sorry hide, however.

And Jade is certain that the same thought is running through Yuhua’s mind right now, although he can’t quite see his face. The TA digs his long nails into the fabric of his pants, a clear sign of suppressing anger.

Oh, dear~ Perhaps, it’s time for Jade to extend a helping hand—

Instead of fighting back, Yuhua lets out a soft sigh that blows his bangs out of his face. The action reminds Jade something of a popped balloon.

“Sorry,” the pitiful TA replies, finally raising his head. His expression is neutral despite the remaining redness of his cheeks. “I’ll take care of it. You’ll be rightfully compensated for this.” Said a bit despairingly, resigned. 

It seems to appease the student, who grumbles a little more before sitting back down. 

Yuhua’s lips set into a thin line for a moment. He gets himself back onto his feet, only kneeling down again to collect the fallen drink glasses and tray. The other waiters make a respectful, awkward space around him as they walk by.

How… disappointing. Jade would have anticipated more of a fight, based on not only certain rumors but also what he had seen during Azul’s Overblot, but it seems Yuhua hadn’t quite reached the boiling point just now. Instead, he’d settled for people-pleasing.

If it were me, thinks Jade with a pleasant smile on his face, I wouldn’t have let that ungrateful anemone escape with all his teeth and joints intact.

But in any case—

“Do you need any assistance?” he asks, approaching Yuhua.

He gets a surprised look for his troubles, and a rejection. “No, it’s okay…” Yuhua smiles, laughing it off. “The customer’s always in the right, right? I’ll handle it myself.”

Having been brushed off, Jade simply watches as Yuhua scurries back over to the kitchen counter.

Hmm. I wonder if he’s simply playing the long game, then…

—

IV.

Of all the places that Jamil usually expects to hear arguing, the library ranks last. Generally. Not that it’s always free from arguing, but that’s probably on him for having even the slightest faith in NRC students. 

Speaking of which, that’s exactly what he hears when he enters the library one day after classes: arguing. It’s coming from behind a shelf, so Jamil has to guess who it is based on voice alone.

“Please quiet down.” That’s… Crewel’s assistant, Yuhua. “Crewel needs me to borrow this, okay?”

“Uh, hello? Are you not good enough to be his assistant, or something? I need it more. So just hand it over already.”

Jamil stifles a sharp, stressed inhale. That’s a Scarabia student, no doubt—one of his former roommates. Ugh. And just when he thought he could skirt by without having to get involved. What a way to reflect poorly on our whole dorm…

He creeps around the side of the shelf, and what he sees confirms his well-educated guess. A student with a maroon armband towers over Yuhua, who holds a rather thick textbook in hand. The student’s back is to Jamil, but Yuhua’s expression is still visible…

Wait a minute. What the hell? Is… Is Yuhua glaring at the taller guy?

Jamil recalls a conversation he’d had with Ace just the other day: Ace had been in such a hurry to get out of practice that he’d caused multiple… inconveniences for others.

“Yu’s gonna kill me if I’m late for studying!” was his excuse.

“Why are you so scared of Yuhua?” Jamil had asked. Even though Yuhua had been… present, for his Overblot, he still didn’t quite get the control the TA seemed to have over the freshmen. 

“You don’t get it, man,” Ace had said. “I almost pissed myself the first time Yu got seriously mad at me. You don’t think anything’s happening because he’s just narrowing his eyes at you, but it’s like toggling a lightswitch. He gets violent out of nowhere.”

At the time, Jamil had shrugged it off with his normal amount of skepticism. Even though he had proved himself able to be as two-faced and cruel as any other student in this school (Jamil never, in his life, wanted to be on the receiving end of the full Octavinelle trio’s scheming again), Yuhua still seemed too… docile. Too naturally passive to be like that when angry. It wasn’t the first time Ace had exaggerated, either.

But now, he’s seeing all the warning signs Ace had mentioned. How Yuhua is narrowing his eyes like an irked cat. If he allows this to continue, then—Oh, great. A fight. In the library, no less. Another problem he’ll have to clean up because it’s his dorm’s student who likely started this mess and will inevitably get into trouble.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jamil steps forward to intervene—

“...Okay, fine,” Yuhua concedes, although it’s a bit of a reluctant grumble. He holds out the textbook instead of bashing it over the student’s head like Jamil had expected him to. 

A scoff. “See? Wasn’t that hard.”

“...Right.” Yuhua turns as the student walks away, so his expression is unreadable. 

Huh.

Jamil stares blankly for a few moments. That… did not go as he expected, at all. 

So much for ‘explosive anger,’ really. Yuhua had just given up.

Well, whatever. Jamil will just chalk it up to Ace’s overdramatic nature and think nothing of it. As long as it was resolved peacefully without needing him to risk grey hairs…

—

V.

When Vil calls for a rare water break, Rook takes the opportunity to observe the NRC Tribe’s stiffest fledglings. 

Today, again, they’ve taken on pirouettes in a corner where they can still see the mirror. Certainly, it makes for quite a sight: the normally-withdrawn TA trying to instruct two freshmen who have likely never seen a true ballet performance in their lives.

Rook had known Yuhua had a history in dance and music from the start—there was a clear lift to his chin and in his posture when he didn’t feel insecure, holding himself high and sitting on the edge of every seat. He walked with a slight turnout, and was light on his feet; not to mention the controlled expressiveness of his hands. However, the TA didn’t seem to enjoy flaunting these facts, making moments like these all the more enjoyable. 

“Epel.” Yuhua frowns, a little soft and yet a little frustrated. “Are you trying?”

The Pomefiore freshman bites the inside of his lower lip. “Uh, well…”

A sigh. “That’s about what I thought. Vil and I aren’t asking much: just a clean single so you can master the basics.” Yuhua crosses his arms. “Is something on your mind?”

“I just…” Epel grimaces. “I still don’t get it. What’s so manly about any of this turning?”

Ah, there it is again.

Rook does not intervene, continuing to observe, even though he can see Yuhua’s eyes briefly twitch into narrowing and his lips press into a strained smile. Any dancer would start to lose it after yet another generalization of their field, especially an ignorantly derogatory one. After multiple generalizations, in fact.

Like any trained performer, however, he smooths it down. That self-control is beautiful in its own right, no matter how strained.

“Manly, huh…?”

Epel yelps as Yuhua, deceptively calm, grabs his arm to adjust it.

“Your elbows are too stiff. Don’t interrupt the line; make them look round and effortless.” A tap to Epel’s back. “Don’t lean forward when you plié, you’re not about to break into a sprint; if your pelvis isn’t under you, then you’ll be off-balance when you turn.” And then, a nudge to the underside of Epel’s chin. “Don’t look at the ground. Look at yourself in the mirror. Keep your chin level so you can spot properly.”

The foundational advice is given almost clinically, automatically. Rook watches with keen interest as Yuhua withholds the same kind of scathing strictness Vil would have easily dished out, even though this must be the second or third time he’s had to say these things to Epel. 

“Deuce,” Yuhua asks levelly, “did you hear everything I just said?” To the trained ear, it sounds like a test, an I am on my last straw so there is only one correct answer here.

Thankfully, one of his students is more eager to learn than the other. “Yes!” is the earnest reply from the two of spades, who is already adjusting his posture after listening with the utmost dedication.

“Thank you.” Yuhua turns back to Epel. “We don’t have a lot of time. Just focus on improving for the SDC, okay?”

Epel bristles at being treated like a child, but nods. 

A smile spreads across Rook’s face. Ahh, the liveliness of a dancer and his mentees at work…

“Rook.” Vil’s voice snaps him out of his momentary reverie. “Let’s continue practicing.”

Right. Duty calls.

 “Of course~”

—

VI.

By now, Floyd had noticed, most people were learning to steer clear of starting shit with Yu. On top of him making more friends, on top of the (true) rumors that he’d Overblotted, most people had probably just accepted his presence.

(It also probably helped that Floyd regularly finds great joy in standing behind Yu and scaring off anyone who tried to be a problem.)

But, even then… 

Some people don’t take the hint.

Floyd doesn’t know how or why it started, only that when he walks into the courtyard of the main school building, there’s someone yelling at Yu like it’s his Seven-given right. It’s so loud, like a dog’s yapping. So annoying.

Bark, bark, bark. Floyd doesn’t listen to the full thing because it’s not worth his time, but it feels like it goes on for forever. To the point where people are gathering like it’s some kind of show, heads turning.

What a serious mood killer. Maybe Floyd should get involved, start a fight. Let everyone have a piece of this idiot. It doesn’t look like Yu will: he’s just standing there, silent, suffering quietly like he usually would.

“What’s wrong, cat got your tongue?” taunts the nasally little offender. Of course, he’s the worst breed of coward—only able to say these things once Yu is on his lonesome. “No one’s here to defend you now, huh? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

Silence.

“Well?”

“Haaah…” Yu closes his eyes. “I’m seriously sick of your shit.”

“Huh—”

That’s the only thing the yapper can get out before Yu grabs him by the face. His fingers dig into the person’s cheeks, the palm of his hand conveniently muffling any complaints. If looks could kill, he’d be a murderer. 

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? I said I’m sick and tired of your bullshit!” Yu shouts. He angrily tightens his grip. “Listen, buddy, I don’t know who the hell you think you are—I don’t know who half the people at this school think they are—but someone needs to humble you, desperately. Have you heard yourself?” 

His voice reaches a high, mocking pitch: “Ohhh, no! There’s a magicless person at my school, but I think I deserve to be hot shit because I can make a few pathetic sparks with my magic! I’m gonna pick on him to assert my nonexistent dominance because I think he looks like a weak doormat!

“Yeah, well, womp fuckin’ womp. Being chosen by the Dark Mirror doesn’t mean anything. You’re just a copy-and-paste of every other small fry I’ve met at this school. Ego in the clouds, even though your performance is so bad that you reek of failed contracts and the threat of being held back. Am I right?” Yu scoffs without waiting for an answer. “Grow the fuck up already. Aren’t you embarrassed? Don’t you have any respect for anyone?” 

He lets go with a shove, pushing the previously-confident person to the ground. Yu’s heel finds a nice spot to rest on the student’s chest and send a message.

“Do us all a favor and actually have the bite to back up your bark next time. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

And even after yelling like that, Yu walks away like it’s nothing.

Oh, Sea Witch. Floyd feels ready and raring to kick ass again. 

That was great.

—

(bonus:

Riddle has no idea how he ended up in this situation, but here he is. Having ended up next to Floyd, watching Yuhua curse a student out.

For good reason, of course. But Riddle didn’t even know that the TA had that in him.

“...Well.” Riddle turns to leave—that’s enough of enjoying the ‘show’ for today. He makes to weave his way out of the crowd that’s gathered, but something makes him pause. He looks up.

There’s a dumb, dopey, lovestruck look on Floyd’s face. That’s the only way Riddle can think to describe his smile, mismatched eyes following after the exiting Yuhua.

…what can he even say in this situation? Riddle stifles an embarrassed grimace and walks away.)