#I've been holding onto this for some time

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ examination table

pairing: gynecologist!rafe x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; aside from having to do a strange amount of research about ovulation, iui and me overall being against male gynos; this was fun.

rafe masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." doctor cameron said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor cameron noticed how skittish you were being, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his blue eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor cameron said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, his hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor cameron's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown.

"orgasms." his hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of your doctor's wedding ring a pleasing contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor cameron had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, sweetie?" he mumbled against your skin, rafe's words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad of his thumb found your your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come on, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

rafe tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, holding him there as tightly as possible "god, rafe..." you moaned out, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, sweetie... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while rafe's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. cameron so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails against the desk, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. cameron."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor cameron's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

[airagorncharda]

I hear you, and I largely agree, but 11 years ago I wrote a very similar post, with the same passion and furver, specifically largely in favor of AGAB language because that was the up and coming language at the time that was replacing worse language. And what I've learned in the interim years is that older trans people often hold onto language that made them feel seen and safe when they discovered themselves, regardless of what the newest best practice terminology is, and that that's okay. There are going to be trans people who use terminology for ourselves that younger people cannot FATHOM being comfortable with, and that is okay.

Personally, there are situations in which I can see the use of AGAB language being an alternative to dysphoria inducing anatomical language (saying "I was assigned female at birth" is a shortcut that doesn't center my existance on my genitals in a way many would find uncomfortable, nor does it give permission to call me a girl in the way "I was raised as a girl" sometimes feels like it does), or being a way to bridge the knowledge gap when talking to someone who's new to understanding trans people (it sets specific expectations about how to precieve gender vs sex: I wasn't one thing and became another thing, I was incorrectly-designated at birth).

I am not highly well read on intersex language and concerns, but my understanding is that at least at one point AGAB language was used by both the trans and intersex community to discuss/reference the commonality between the communities.

I believe this language is most commonly used AGAINST trans women, but I've also seen it used a lot to self describe experiencing in the transmasc community specifically. I cannot speak to the transfem community's experiences, though I recognise how this language has been harmfully used against them (terf shit uses any opportunity to link them to maleness, this is as viable towards that goal as any other language, and perhaps in some ways moreso). But discussions of transmasc specific experiences have undeniably benefitted from access to this kind of language. Being raised with specific expectations and limitations placed upon you is something that people need to be able to talk about, and of course being specific is clearer but sometimes you just need a shorthand. Studies show that parents treat children differently depending on the percieved gender of the child even from the moment of ultrasound confirmation, down to how the pregnant parent EATS-- being assigned female at birth DOES have a specific meaning and holds specific implications that nothing else does.

So while I agree that this language can be and has been use harmfully against trans people, especially trans women, I also know that it's been used to ease suffering, communicate more comfortably, and describe specific experiences. I think telling people not to use it anymore is well intentioned (truly, 11 years ago I wrote basically the same post, I hear you and I see you and I get it) but ultimately a short sighted example of throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

People are still going to use the language that makes them comfortable, and they should.

The post you've written has value, as a reminder that this language is not a substitute for all other gender related language. It isn't a one to one replacement for all cisnormative or simply gendered terminology. It's not a direct replacement for FTM/MTF, or transmasc/transfem, or male/female, or any other term. It has its own meaning.

But if what you're saying is to remove it entirely, then I urge you to consider why that isn't necessarily the answer. Make sure you're not just attacking trans people's ability to use our preferred language for ourselves.

replace AGAB language with what you actually fucking mean 2025

"AFAB/AMAB bodies..." -> say what body part(s) you're referring to or that are directly relevant to the conversation you want to have

"as an AFAB/AMAB..." -> is the gender you were assigned at birth actually relevant here? do you actually mean "as someone who was raised as a girl/boy"? are you sure that this experience is AGAB-specific?

"AFAB/AMAB presentation of [neurodivergence]" -> firstly I assume you probably mean "high-masking/low-masking" or "early/late diagnosed". secondly shut the fuck up

"AFAB/AMAB socialised people" -> "I have bought into terfism and am actively speaking terf language"

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Consequence

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel understands how it feels to regret; he understands it most as he holds you and he prays.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence, this has a lot of grief in Azriel's pov but also subtle pov shifts and memories

a/n: This is part of a mini-series with one part left <3 I've honestly been using this series as a way to explore angst and loss in depth so thank you all for being addicted to angst. Last part coming soon (but also considering doing an alt ending too). Thank you for reading ily!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

Azriel was digging. His hands were raw and specked with blood, and it took him a moment, but he was faintly aware that his throat felt raw as well. He was digging and he was screaming. 

The rubble of the cliff was unforgiving. Sharp rocks and misshapen twigs caught his skin and he pushed and pushed and pushed. His shadows had escaped him, weaving their way through the debris, slinking into the crevices Azriel so viscerally despised. 

He had to get you out. 

The bond was still there—still glowing in his chest. 

Every morsel of time you had spent with him this past year was on a painful loop in his mind, reminding him of the progress you’d made, of the life that had settled back in your eyes. You were so perfect, had always been so perfect, and Azriel was hoping you’d find that truth in an existence without your wings. 

He thought you might’ve been close. 

But then you’d discovered what had been kept from you. You’d learned that he and the others knew where your remaining attackers were, and they hadn’t told you. 

There had been a plethora of reasons. 

For Rhysand, it was your continued safety in the face of the uprising camp. He was a leader, which meant keeping information from you to ensure what you could not. For Cassian, well—he was pissed off. Cassian wanted to kill the men himself, and it had been a battle with the rest of the circle to keep him tame. And Azriel. Azriel knew what the life returning to your eyes would mean in the face of such news. He knew it that first day in Rhysand’s office when the spies made them privy to that first bit of information, and he knew it when the weekly meetings began, his informants closing in on the vile men’s location. 

So, he knew, with all certainty, that if you knew about these men, you would have gone after them. And then you did. 

You had never been the most sly at eavesdropping, so Azriel knew you were listening in the second your unsteady gait closed in on the High Lord’s office door. He let you listen, and then he confronted you when you were preparing to leave. It had been a few months of you walking on your own, but he still caught the way your right foot fell too quickly in front of your left as you skirted around your room. 

He had begged you. Gods, had he begged you to stay. To calm. To allow other people to take the lead on this. He had promised you would still have the final blow, but Azriel knew this had never been about your attackers simply dying. This had been about something else entirely. 

Was it worth it now, he wondered, as your once broken body—now healed with time—was slowly uncovered by Azriel’s bleeding hands? 

His throat stopped aching for a moment, a momentary reprieve as a sob soothed the ripping pain in his vocal cords. Some rendition of your name left his lips, slipping past the screams and the sobs that punctuated the guilt within him. He had been caught off guard, rendered unable to reach you when you needed him most. And he had had to watch you fall. 

Eventually, the rubble cleared enough for him to pull you onto his legs. His shadows blocked his view of your body, but they were whispering to him. You were alive, they told him—alive but hurt hurt hurt. He couldn't parse out exactly what was broken about you, but his shadows had never been calm in the face of your danger. 

That should have been a sign to him. He should have been protecting you far sooner. 

“Y/n?” Azriel croaked once more, his hands, still ruined, brushing along your face. “You’re okay. You’re fine,” he whispered to no one, his forehead coming down to meet yours. 

The scene was reminiscent of one he was quick to push from his mind, the blood and loss you had experienced in such a similar fashion something he wished not to relive. 

His body was shaking, he realized. Adrenaline and fear wracked him, turning his nerves into live wires that would spark at the touch. Azriel watched the subtle rise and fall of your chest as you lay against him, cursing his inability to command his shadows to bring you home. Faebane still influenced the power in his veins. His shadows remained, if only for you, but he had less pull over them. 

Azriel held you close and he prayed. 

You would be fine. You had to be fine. He had a lifetime more of taking care of you, even if only peripherally, even if you never knew what you truly meant to him. Azriel had set that fate in motion from the moment he chose to believe you about the camps—from the moment your wings had been torn from you and your existence felt less than. 

He knew you had been struggling with that. That the delicate furrow of your brow each time you passed a reflective surface was not a simple coincidence. 

It was his fault. You were his mate, and this had happened to you while he was off living in some fallacy. 

Azriel tugged you closer, watching the world go by through the small feats of movement on your face. 

You had told him once, about a month ago, that life was different now. You had said that it made less sense, that you were trying to make meaning of things that had once come naturally, been intuitive. Azriel had chalked that up to your inability to fly; it was difficult, he presumed, to conceptualize such a thing being taken away. 

But now Azriel realized what you meant. Breathing did not feel intuitive. How he positioned his body beneath yours did not feel natural. He did not know how to move, how to care for you, how to make this better. He kept passing over your face and body with his hands, but life felt different now—between an hour ago and now. 

He had feared you would never return from the dark abyss that consumed you when you first lost your wings, but then you had healed and coped. 

He had gotten too comfortable with the idea of you being okay. 

He had foolishly believed that nothing bad would ever happen to you again. Not now. Not with the magnitude of what you meant to him. 

You let out a small cough. Azriel’s breath sputtered. 

“Angel?” he called, his gaze scouring every inch of you. His thumb rubbed along your hairline. “Tell me if you can hear me.” 

A long pause punctuated the air between you. Your eyes fluttered but did not open. 

“Please. Please, please,” Azriel pleaded, tears unknowingly falling from his cheeks and scattering on your skin. 

He only needed a few moments. Rhys would come. He knew he would.

Right? 

“This isn’t s-supposed to happen like this,” Azriel cried, his touch imprinted along your body. “I needed more time. I was supposed to tell you. I was supposed to—” 

Azriel’s shadows were becoming frantic, swatting at his head and twisting along his dim siphons. Do something, they seethed into his ear, save her. 

To an onlooker, Azriel would seem as though he were talking to no one as he stressed, “I can’t. I don’t know how. I don’t… I can’t…” 

Azriel heaved you up into his arms as he stood. He was desperate, clinging to the thread that was growing fainter and fainter within him as he began taking steps to nowhere. He kept talking to his shadows, shouting to them when he knew that wasn’t necessary. 

“Help me then!” he demanded, tucking your head into his shoulder as he kept an unsteady pace. “Take her, at least. Help her.” 

As much as his shadows had an affinity for you, they would not take such large action without a direct command from their master. Azriel remembered his wings then. He had been refraining from using them for so long, not wanting their presence to deter your healing. They had been glued to his back for the better half of a year, and so he had forgotten them. 

He was unpracticed as he unfurled them and shot into the sky, eyes racing down to your figure to catch any change in your expression as he went. There was still nothing, no indication that you were present in the living world other than the dim feeling of you within him. Azriel had the fleeting thought that he might be sick. 

He pressed on. 

“What, do I look weird?”

Azriel’s chest panged as another memory flooded him. 

“No, of course not,” he had assured, brow furrowed at the obscene thought. 

“You can tell me if I do. I’m trying out a new wardrobe now that… you know. And Mor’s always been a bit flashy.” 

The dress was impressive, to say the least, a clear product of Mor’s eye. But it wasn’t the dress that made Azriel take a second look. He had seen you in much gaudier attire; the blue and white was saintly compared to what you wore in Hewn City.

To be frank, it was your posture that first caught his eye. You held yourself taller than normal as if a weight had been lifted. He hadn’t seen you with your shoulders pulled back since you lost your wings, and if it was the result of this damn dress he was going to kiss the ground Mor walked on. 

“I think you look beautiful,” Azriel candidly replied. 

You had blinked and looked away, giving Azriel some sarcastic remark that held no bite. Azriel gazed down at you in his arms and he regretted. He regretted so many things, but with the memories of the time after—of the time after you had been solidified as his—he regretted wasting so much time. He regretted ignoring the pull to you, being so quick to sign it off as familiar love. He regretted chasing after women he couldn’t have, didn’t even really want, and making you a spectator to his ridiculous failures. 

You had always been so forgiving of it all. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you,” Azriel spoke into the wind. He could feel tendrils of his power licking at his fingertips. A little bit longer and he could reach Rhysand. “Even if you never want to see me again.” His lips were salty as he spoke. “I’ll—” 

His next promise was lost behind the whisper in his head, a fleeting echo of Rhysand’s voice like an answered prayer. Azriel searched for the inkling of power within him and surged it forward, creating a beacon with his mind. Azriel was weak, but there was enough. 

He landed in the snowy dirt with a resounding thud. He viewed the world through watery, unseeing eyes as his High Lord usurped his vision. It was only a beat before Rhysand was there. Azriel watched as he took an unsteady breath in, taking in your form as Azriel held you close, and then steadying himself with outstretched hands. 

Something inside of Azriel tensed. 

Rhysand only shook his head, an argument clear in his eyes, his hands motioning for you to be transferred over. But Azriel’s jaw was quivering and there was no way he could let go of you. Not if it was going to be the last time. Not if the last time he felt the bond you were anywhere but his arms. 

“I can’t,” Azriel whispered, and even though it wasn’t the safest means of travel, Rhysand’s defeated breath was followed by a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. 

This was familiar. 

Back in the House—back with you broken in his arms. Only you weren’t bleeding, not as you were the first time. He hadn’t taken stock of your injuries, too overcome with the shock of trying to get you out. He had grabbed you and ran and nothing else was clear in his mind. 

“She looks stable,” a voice noted with urgency from across the room. Azriel looked up to find Feyre rounding a chair to meet where he was standing, you still firmly in his arms. 

She had been hesitant last time, Azriel remembered. Someone had thrown up and the room had been in chaos. 

“What happened?” Rhysand urged, catching Azriel’s eyeline as Feyre maneuvered herself around Azriel’s tight grip. “A healer is coming. You need to tell me what happened, Azriel.” 

Azriel figured he was still in shock. Feyre attempted to tug you from his grip and he snapped at her, a nasty look shot in her direction and a wing coming around to push her away. Azriel’s shadows disapproved, weaving around your midsection and the disruption of your skin along your head. 

You were bleeding, he realized. 

Azriel choked on nothing. 

“Azriel,” Rhysand tried again. “I’m not even sure where you both are coming from. You left with no explanation.” 

“Just look,” Azriel gritted out, eyes unable to leave you. 

And Azriel knew that with his power still dimmed from faebane Rhysand would see everything. He couldn’t put up the barriers that guarded the important, private moments of his life, and those moments were front of mind as you lay in his arms. 

Rhysand sifted through them as he entered Azriel’s mind, but they were unavoidable. Rhysand passed the moment Azriel discovered you were mates, the first time he saw you out of your room after the incident, the first time you ate a full meal, when you fell asleep on his shoulder and didn’t look at him with distrust after you woke in his arms; Rhysand felt the overwhelming emotions that accompanied each of those moments and he pressed on. 

He pressed on even as Azriel’s mind pushed forward memories of before. They were each tainted with regret and longing and Rhysand could see the parts Azriel highlighted. The blush on his face when you spoke to him; the urge to press closer to you as you sat on the couch after dinner; the light feeling in his chest as you laughed over coffee in that ridiculously small teahouse. 

Azriel wished he could stop. He swallowed—hard—and attempted to quell the onslaught of memories that wouldn’t stop, but it was impossible as he stared down at you and continued to regret. 

Finally, mercifully, Rhysand reached Azriel’s memory of just an hour before. He saw the way you packed on weapons in haste and the futile attempts Azriel made to get you to stay. He watched Azriel winnow you through his shadows and the near-instantaneous ambush that was waiting for you at the camp. They had gone after Azriel, pushing you closer and closer to the cliff’s edge as you tried to get to him. 

He felt Azriel’s panic—watched the cliff disintegrate with you along with it. One last cruel lesson from the men of Illyira; women should not have wings, should not have independence. 

Rhysand removed himself from Azriel’s mind, eyes flickering over you now. 

“Do you still feel her?” he asked.

Azriel gave a short nod of his head, his cheeks glistening in the faelight of the room. 

“Good. That’s good.” 

From the depths of your mind, you could hear it all. You couldn’t register the words or the happenings of the space, but you knew you were somewhere. It felt safe. 

There was pressure on your face at times, low murmuring that your brain was working overtime trying to interpret, and there were aches in your body that you weren’t sure of the origin. Wading through the confusion was one broad feeling that rose above the rest. 

A tug at your chest, just below your heart, pulling you closer and closer to the sounds and the discomfort. 

Someone was asking you for something but you couldn’t make out what. 

You wanted to give in to the pull at your ribs. You knew it would bring more pain, but it was enticing and spelled every good thing you could conjure up in your muddled mind.

You must have made a sound, or moved, or made some indication that you were fighting for consciousness because the voices became louder, more direct. You were moved slightly, pain radiating at the motion, and several apologies followed. 

You tested the path to your eyelids, blinking once and then twice to get used to the light assaulting your retinas. It wasn’t bright, you noted, but everything felt like too much. It felt like too much to be working this hard, but you needed to see something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you needed to before… 

“Y/n?” 

Your eyes slid towards the voice. 

Azriel. 

Your senses knew him before you did, tugging you toward his presence. Only—only this time something felt different. His hands kept your face steady as you fought past the pain to get a better view of him. You needed to see before… 

Something shifted. Aligned. The pull in your chest sprung to life. 

In your delirium, the muscles in your mouth twitched into a smile. 

“Angel?” Azriel called. He tapped a hand against your cheek, thumb brushing the upturn of your mouth.

This felt final. You took in the deepest breath you could manage. 

“My mate,” you whispered. 

You caught the shaking of Azriel’s chin before your eyes closed once more. The answer you wanted was just there, and the world made more sense as you chased the exhaustion that lingered ahead of you. 

You forgot about your wings. You forgot about the cliff, the men, the months of healing that hurt. 

The peace that blanketed your face was not comforting to Azriel. Panic seized him instead. You were bleeding, yes, but not like last time. He didn’t know where you were hurt the most and you only stayed awake long enough to whisper those two words. 

His life was slipping away. 

This was not supposed to work this way. 

With dread threaded through his fingers, Azriel’s trembling touch moved across every inch of your face. “Yes,” he choked out, nodding to your closed eyes. “Yes, I am yours. And you are mine so you have to stay awake.” 

He had moved to a couch, leaning over your figure. “We can… we can fix all of this.” Azriel moved his touch down to your chest, hand pressed to the plane. “You worked so hard to get here. You—life is different now but I’m here and I can help you make sense of it.” 

Across the room, Rhysand stood with his hand over his mouth, feeling like an intruder in a moment that might not last. Feyre had fled the room in a desperate search for the healer. 

“Okay?” Azriel asked. When you didn’t answer Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, his forehead coming to rest on your chest. This was somehow worse than the first time—more calm, more final. 

The door opened, smacking against the back wall with a resounding bang that Azriel could not hear. He was pulled away from you, just as he was the first time, only this time he was not covered in blood or confused or desperate for answers. 

He had answers. 

He had you. 

Well, in some ways—in the ways that mattered. 

“I forgive you, you know,” you told him, thumb pressing into the page edge.

Azriel turned from his mission report, brows lowering over his eyes. “What?” 

You kept your thumb on your page as you closed your book. “I know you blame yourself. I want you to know that I forgive you. That it’s not even your fault to begin with.” 

“Y/n—” 

“No, I’m serious,” you moved to your knees on the loveseat you shared with him, giving this conversation your full attention. “I made decisions that day. I knew you would have come with me if I told the truth. I chose to lie.” 

Azriel abandoned his work on the end table, turning his body to face you fully. “Yes, but I made you feel that you should lie. I put my inconsequential desires over you. You—Y/n, you have experienced loss because of the choice I made. I always go with you. That’s my job—to protect you.”

“I don’t think they were inconsequential,” you whispered. 

“What?” he said again. 

You flitted your gaze between his eyes. The fire behind you was strong, reflecting orange on your skin. “You wanted to be in love. To be loved. I don’t think that’s inconsequential.”  Azriel held your stare, chest caving in a way you couldn’t understand. “No,” he replied. “I suppose it’s not.”

[cloudyynebulas]

Hi there!

May I request a part 2 for "We'll meet again, Y/N Cookie!"?

Your writing style is so lovely and I'm very excited to see how this story could play out!!

…ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

❝ DON'T KNOW WHERE, DON'T KNOW WHEN - BUT I KNOW WE'LL MEET AGAIN SOME SUNNY DAY ! ❞

shadow milk cookie x reader.

reader is gender neutral.

cw: slight yandere themes (?) , implied mind control, manipulation, obsession, possessive behavior, generally unhealthy relationships

this is a part two! if you'd like to read the first part, you can find that here.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

"C'mon, there's no way you've read this book!" You laugh, holding up yet another one of the library's books. A soft gold color decorated with elegant drawings of blooming flowers decorating the book's cover, with the title script titled, 'Earthbread Gardens'.

Shadow Milk Cookie chuckles, a hand covering his mouth at your antics. "I've.. also read that book, Y/N Cookie."

"This is the tenth book I've shown you! You can't possibly have read alllll these books in this library!" You huffed, placing the book onto the table in front of you, next to your half-empty cup of tea, its comforting aroma of blueberries wisping out from the top.

Shadow Milk Cookie shrugs, hands moving towards his own teacup, softly grabbing at it's glass handle with delicate movements. "I'm only being completely honest with you - I've read practically every book in this library."

He took a small sip of his tea, raising the cup to his lips with satisfaction.

"I've been around on Earthbread for quite some time," he added on further, lowering the cup away from his lips. "Truthfully, I've read so many scripts and texts ... I fear there may not be many things left I've yet to actually put my eyes on."

You take note on how his voice seems to falter near the end - as if, hinted with a slight undertone of disappointment. Your once playful expression morphed into one of concern for your friend, as he placed his cup back on the table, looking .. almost forlorn.

Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes trailed towards the book on the table.

"I was baked to be a herald of Knowledge," he spoke, and you stayed quiet, allowing him to speak his conflicting thoughts that begged to be heard. For someone to listen. "I was never given the chance to .. be like other Cookies."

His hands, resting on his lap, began to clench tightly on his robes. Even with his head tilted downwards, eyes glued to anything but you, you could feel his expression shifting into one of almost.. frustration and shame.

He was too ashamed to look you in the eyes as he admitted his own inner turmoil.

"It's not something I should be complaining about though, right?" he chuckled. "Being gifted this power.. to carry such responsibility .. I should be thankful. Thankful to even be considered with such power for the good of all Cookies."

You frown.

"Everyone relies on me - and my friends." he sighs, hands beginning to release from his robes, letting the soft cloth relax. "Yet .. is it too much to ask that sometimes.. I wish I was just like everyone else?"

Nothing but silence filled the Library for a moment.

Shadow Milk Cookie's head quickly moved back up to face you - his expression full of shame as he so easily allowed himself to express such selfish desires -

"Shadow Milk Cookie," you speak, before he can even mutter out a word.

Slowly, you scoot yourself forward, carefully reaching your hands out. His eyes follow your movements as your hands gently reach over to his - and, with only a brief moment of hesitation, do your hands interlock with each other.

"I cannot possibly begin to understand the burden you carry, the responsibilities and challenges you face every single day." you speak softly, your hands gently rubbing against his as a way of silently comforting him. "Like you said - I am not like you."

You hum.

"Just imagining what you have to do for thousands of Cookies each and every day just makes me stress. How you've been able to manage that for years makes me look at you in awe."

Shadow Milk Cookie's gaze widens.

"You are strong - beyond any strength I've ever seen." you smile, your hands raising - the two of you holding your hands up together, your forms much closer than before. "You have no reason to be ashamed for wanting to imagine a life where you're like everyone else."

You pause for a moment.

"..but.. you don't have to flawless. You don't have to be perfect."

"Everything you've done for Earthbread, for Cookies, for me, has always been enough."

"You don't have to meet these high expectations you've set for yourself. What you do now is already enough."

You smile.

"You may not believe it yourself - but I believe it."

Slowly, your hands and his begin to separate, gently and carefully.

Your hands move towards the book you'd left on the table, a soft chuckle emitting from you.

"You mean everything to me, Shadow Milk Cookie. Virtue of Knowledge or not - you're just.. Shadow Milk Cookie to me."

"You're my friend. Nothing has ever made me think otherwise."

Shadow Milk Cookie stares at you; his expression soft - gaze speechless as he finds himself struggling on what to say.

In all of his time on Earthbread - he's continuously faced a constant battle of Cookies unable to truly see him for what he actually was - the Cookie he was underneath all his glorious titles and fame.

It created a wall that prevented anyone from truly understanding him. Leaving a gaping hole in his heart that could never be filled; and that's what he thought for countless years.

And then you showed up, breaking that endless cycle of inner torment. You saw him for who he was - outside of the Virtue of Knowledge.

You saw Shadow Milk Cookie, and Shadow Milk Cookie saw you.

"Y/N Cookie.."

You hum.

He chuckles, reaching back down for his tea once more.

"Thank you."

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

You felt yourself choking back on a sob as you listened to the guttural screams of Cookies below, begging for mercy as they'd be slaughtered and crumbled to bits through twisted games of cards and chess.

They'd look up at you - pleading for help, yet all you could do was watch idly by as their jam stained the floor.

You wanted to do something. The guilt filled your dough like the plague - kicking and screaming to help the countless Cookies that suffered through the fiery chaos that filled all of Earthbread.

But you could not. You were forced to play your part - to be a spectator, witnessing thousands crumble and wither away. That was your role in his twisted play.

You felt a tug on the near-transparent puppet strings that pulled you aside, and you were quickly wrapped in a warm embrace of poisonous venom.

Shadow Milk Cookie ran a hand through your hair - his other hand moving back behind your head, pushing it into the crook of his neck.

"Just let it alllll out, love." you hear him speak, softly and soothingly, comforting you from the horrors as if it was not him who had caused it all.

Just like the typical routine.

The waterworks spilled and tears flew down, your cries muffled as Shadow Milk Cookie rubbed his hand through your hair, the other wrapped around your waist holding you closer.

"..why .. why.." you mumbled out between sobs, pathetically trying to push yourself away from his tight grip - your feeble attempts at escape not budging his embrace in the slightest.

"It's all just a game, dollface." you can't see his face - but you know he's smiling. "I thought you loved games!"

You only cried more. Shadow Milk Cookie whispers sweet nothings of blissful comfort. The hand on the back of your head seems to pulse for a moment, a brush of his magic sweeping into your mind - pushing your worries down and clouding your head.

"There, there.." he chuckles, moving himself backward - his embrace still tight, but now the two of you were able to properly look at one another. Shadow Milk Cookie brushes a strand of your hair out of your face, softly caressing your cheek, brushing away globs of tears.

"You're as beautiful as ever." he hums, analyzing every part of your face like a delicate painting, making sure not even a single scratch or microscopic bit of dust stained your perfect form. "I'm so, so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting for so long!"

A small glimmer of light in the farthest corners of your mind begged for you to run, to scream, to resist - but such attempts were beyond useless. Maybe it was the spell that clouded your thoughts, but even without the influence of magic - was there truly any point to escaping?

You'd tried countless times before. Back when the terror upon Earthbread had only just begun in it's infancy, you recall many days of running and hiding, thinking you were finally safe, only to instantly be dragged right back into his clutches.

You wanted to hate him. To tear apart his dough and scatter his remains across the desolate ruins of the old Academy, and yet - you couldn't. You could never dare test such dangerous waters, and even then, his face- dark and twisted with lies and deceit, still resembled the same face of the Cookie you once knew and cherished with every fiber of your dough.

You tried to speak - but your words came out as incoherent mumbles, muddled by the pressure weighing down on your mind.

Shadow Milk Cookie lets out a playful hum, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly. "What was that, Y/N? I couldn't quite catch thaaaaaaaat!"

His voice was playful, almost like it was mocking you. He knew damn well his own spell and his magic muddled your mind into exhaustion and compliance, and that small light within you that wanted to fight back so desperately pulled and fought against the bars of its enclosure, but its fight was snuffed out like a candlelight on its last breath.

You felt your eyelids droop - and Shadow Milk Cookie allowed your form to fall limp, his embrace supporting you and keeping you close.

With your consciousness fading as exhaustion had begun to finally take over - you could feel yourself being lifted into the air as the world around you grew dark - nothing but Shadow Milk Cookie's chuckles filling your mind as everything disappeared.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

You find yourself standing in front of that same Silver Tree.

How long had it been? You'd lost track of the years that had gone by since you saw the Witches themselves, looking down upon the ruins of Earthbread with nothing but disappointment.

The holy forks of punishment that rained down from the skies, imprisoning each Beast within mere moments - their reign of terror coming to a halt. Your eyes watched as each Beast Cookie tried to flee - to escape divine punishment that was long overdue, but the powers of the Witches themselves were not ones to be meddled with.

The Silver Tree was born - and Elder Faerie Cookie soon came along with it as the Guardian, swearing a sacred oath to protect the tree with his life, to keep the Beast Cookies imprisoned till the end of time, and with time, Earthbread began to recover.

You recall seeing Shadow Milk Cookie's last look toward you before he was imprisoned.

He was gone - but his clutches on you were still there. You could feel his presence still holding onto your soul, refusing to let go.

No punishment would ever free him from you.

Your mind was always filled with whispers - promises of his return. How one day, he'd return, embracing you with open arms, never to let go of you again.

You feel a soft tap on your shoulder. Your train of thought is shattered, and you turn your head to face the Cookie who was trying to get your attention.

"Doughbrain!" Apple Faerie Cookie huffs, playfully, hands on her hips. "I've been trying to get your attention for a while now!"

You hum. "Sorry, I was.. thinking."

"Thinking about him?" she smiles. You know exactly who she's talking about.

There's a mischievous glint in her eye. You stare back.

"..yeah."

"Don't worry so much!" Candy Apple Cookie reassures, hands moving behind her back. "He'll be free soon. I just know it!"

The light that once shined within you - your spark of fight, your resistance - it had long since been snuffed out. Contorted and twisted into Shadow Milk Cookie's desire, what he wanted you to become.

You were supposed to fear him. You should've been afraid. But that Cookie was long gone - and the Cookie you were now was the Cookie that Shadow Milk Cookie had so delicately crafted.

Whispers of deceit fill your mind again. His voice.

Candy Apple Cookie .. or, Apple Faerie Cookie, giggles. "C'mon, Y/N Cookie! We've got a job to do, remember?"

She's already begun leading the way, her energetic footsteps skipping along the path.

You nod, following after, toward the direction of the Faerie Kingdom's Library.

Behind you - the Silver Tree shakes - and deep inside it's pale bark, a jester laughs as his shackles begin to shake and tremble.

⋆° .☾ ⋆ .ೃ ࿔* : ⋆

[ericshoney]

The fifth brother ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets, ft.Nate Doe

Summary: With your anxiety at a high and your brothers in LA, you turn to the next closest person. Nate.

Warnings: Possible swearing, anxiety, crying, platonic nicknames, school struggles, fluff.

Reader's age: 17

Requested by: @tswizzleindahouse

You were under a lot of pressure recently. You had some exams coming up, along with tons of homework. School was taking it's toll on you. It was times like this you wish your brothers were home.

But sadly they weren't. Nick, Matt and Chris were in LA and Justin was away at a poker tournament.

So you sat at your desk, staring at all your text books, your brain hurting from all the studying. The tears getting ready to fall out of pain. You knew you needed a break and comfort from someone.

That someone ended up being Nathan.

Nate was like another brother to you and always welcomed you with open arms. So you knew in a time of stress and anxiety, he was the person to see.

You sent him a quick text asking if he was home, to which he responded with a simple yes. You then slipped on your shoes and headed over to his place.

When you arrived, Nate was sat on the doorstep, as if he was waiting for you.

"Hey." You waved as you walked up to him.

"Hey kid." He replied.

Before you could say anything else, Nate stood up and pulled you into a tight, comforting hug.

And that's when you broke. The flood gates opened and the water ran free. You cried into his shoulder as he held you tightly.

Nate didn't say anything as he held you, letting you release all the stress you had been holding onto. Once you stopped to small sniffles, he led you inside where you both crashed on the sofa.

"Is it school?" He asked.

"Yeah. It's just, I've got exams coming up and a shit ton of homework. It feels like I can't study enough." You answered.

"Aww, I'm sorry, kid. I get it, school is a pain in the ass, especially exams, but you're really smart, you'll pass easily." He replied.

"Thanks, Nate." You said.

"Anytime. I get your brothers not being around all the time can be hard, but I'm here." He said.

"You're my brother too, Nate." You said, making the boy smile.

"And you're the sister I never had." He responded, hugging you once again.

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann @mrvlxgrl @lottieluhvs @cl1tlover3000 @melaniesturniolo @lovesturni0l0s @blahbel668 @emely9274 @nicksloverrr @pancjfrjb @luvr4miya @artloo123 @n0aa @sturn-rose @ivysturnss @thetriplets3  @itsjulzandmydiamonds @sturniolos4life16 @courta13 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @sturniologirly @mandmilovehim

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[ao3cassandraic]

Flooding the zone

Like many in the US right now, I'm having trouble holding my shit together. It's a day-by-day, night-by-nightmare thing. I do not read mainstream news. I have what social media I have left (including this hellsite) filtered to hell and back, because it doesn't take much to send me into a spiral.

So if that's you too right now, I feel you, and I swear I'm not writing this post to make it worse.

I'm writing it to ask us to think about what we're saying and doing and how we're spending our energy.

I'm not a political scientist, but I read a few. I'm not a labor theorist, but I am a union member and officer. Our situation in the US rhymes with other situations, geographically and historically, and one thing that's crystal clear is there are ways to stop this shit and it takes numbers and actions and often time.

The numbers are maybe smaller than you think? That one surprised me. Active resistance from maybe 5% of the population has stopped coups cold.

The rub is, best I can tell, that it's hard to say exactly which actions are gonna turn the tide, never mind when -- this shit's complicated and contextual and frequently opportunistic (as with President Yoon's faceplant in South Korea) such that even hindsight gets a bit murky.

So it seems to me that what it makes sense to do is flood the zone, as they say in American football, and keep flooding it. And yeah, that's a Steve Bannonism too, but what our enemies lack in ethics and care they make up for in cold hard strategy, so why not steal it from them?

(Part of my thinking is George Lakoff, too. Smart dude. Decent one, too. Check him out.)

Flood the zone with truth. Flood the zone with defiance -- it's our country too! Flood the zone with hope.

And not just once, but many times, because we can never know in advance the one time that'll put us over the top. Also because like almost any serious endeavor, resistance takes practice. As we practice, we get habituated to the practice and we get stronger and better at the practice!

I can attest to this myself. I spent most of my adult life pretty lousy at civic engagement (never mind resistance), if I'm honest. I voted routinely, but that was about it. I started switching it up in 2011 (I'm a Sconnie and Scott Walker sure did happen), though -- protests, donations, working the polls, union membership and then service, contacting my legislators, more protests, campaign work, some other stuff.

And now a lot of the above list is plain old routine, for me? It's ordinary as weather. It's just part of how I live my life. I bet civic engagement, including in the form of resistance, can become that way for you, too.

I believe a fair few of us can step onto the same road I've been on if we redirect some of our existing efforts -- because doomscrolling is an effort, venting is an effort, doomsaying and amplifying doomsayers is an effort. Let me gently suggest:

Instead of doomscrolling or ruminating: meditation, spiritual or religious practice if you have one, exercise if it's available to you, reading books or fanfic, doing puzzles or brainteasers (I have developed such a Squaredle habit).

If you can't scratch the doomscroll itch unless you're looking at something political, try Mariame Kaba or Rebecca Solnit or even Ezra Klein. If the problem is the doomscroll finding you, filters and blocks and getting away from algorithm-personalized platforms can likely help, and that last is a good idea all by itself.

Instead of venting to social media or into the void: vent at elected officials! You don't have to start with phone calls, or do them at all (I rarely do) -- remember, we're flooding the zone, and the zone's pretty big. Email or Resistbot or postcards are totally fine. More fun in groups -- postcard with friends!

If you can, try to angle your conversational contributions online and off-, including what you reblog/retoot/boost, away from venting and toward action and hope. This doesn't have to be because you're actually feeling hope -- it absolutely can be (and for me often is) a conscious strategy to develop fellow travelers and discipline my own mind and hands.

Instead of doomsaying, express hope and love and solidarity. Again, you don't always have to feel it -- it's a conscious organizing strategy, get me? If it helps you feel more hope and more solidarity yourself, and it may (especially as others respond to it), that's a grateful bonus.

Or consider a swear-jar strategy. Catch yourself doomsaying? Make a donation or email a legislator or whatever -- just decide on a useful action you'll take when you slip up, and hold yourself to it. Every time.

It's not hard to find people who say that all the above is performative, it's not action, it's not effective, ka-blah-ka-blah-ka-blah. I say that we damned well don't know that and that lots of small efforts from lots of people is totally how zones get flooded.

I also say that everyone starts somewhere, and that the zone ain't gonna flood itself.

Redirect even a little effort to flood the zone with me, please? Thank you. And my love to you and to all of us in these times.

[vanillarosekiss]

his sweetheart cake | john price

warnings: smut!! but it's kinda unfinished tbh, younger reader x price but it's not really noticeable at all, maybe it as just intended to be like that, language, i've been obsessed with f!receiving oral and simon recently so i've tried to switch it up a bit and give old man john some love, enjoy! This is NOT proofread.

The sickeningly sugary scent of cake wafted through the air as you slid the last sweetheart cake onto the cooling rack, the golden-brown crust perfect with a light dusting of delicate powdered sugar. You'd spent all afternoon baking, hoping to surprise John after his long day at work. When he finally came into the kitchen, freshly showered and looking somehow better than ever, you couldn't help but smile at the sight, tired eyes gazing over the tray of treats you'd put so much love into making for him.

"You've made this all for me, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and still carrying the day of work through it.

"Of course," you slipped him a quick kiss on his cheek, "Figured you deserve something sweet after all the time and effort you put in."

You took one of the cakes gently and lifted it toward his mouth, feeding it to him. He took a decent sized bite, and let out a small mumble of appreciation before pulling you in by your waist and kissing you. You tasted the sugar on his lips, the sweetness of that moment infecting you like a fever you never wanted to break.

"S'delightful baby. Like always. You sure I'm the one who deserves a treat?" he said playfully, with an amused smile to tease you.

"I'm definitely sure. You treat me too well." you said, and truthfully, you were right. Particularly in the bedroom area, John would never dream of leaving you unsatisfied. He would go to the greatest lengths for you, even to the point where he was eating you out for hours just to make you cum more than once. It was never about him, only you.

"Could nev'a treat you too well, pretty angel" he argued, squeezing your hip a little.

"You do! I feel bad. Wanna make it up to you."

A low chuckle rumbled from him, and he pulled you closer.

"You don't have to do that, love. Seeing you happy is enough for me."

You were relentless with it though, and that said a lot when you both went to bed later in the evening.

You decided to treat him a little, making sure to wear his favourite lingerie of yours - pure white with intricate lacing around the hems. And God did he love every second of seeing you in that, his precious cherub. You were being so good for him, after he'd had such a gruelling day at work.

As he laid against the backboard of the bed, you straddled his thighs, hands on his chest whilst dragging your hips back n'forth his boxer clad crotch. Your pretty little whimpers and whines of wants and desires sent him to heaven, causing him to close his eyes and squeeze your hips a little tighter as he guided you on top of him.

"Tha's perfect, baby." he managed, getting worked up by your sultry movements.

"Wan' you!" you whined and pawed at his chest a couple times, hands fumbling to take off your tiny lace panties. Laughing slightly, he helped you out of them, feeling how soaked you were for him, before taking off his own boxers and realising that he was painfully hard. More than usual.

His cock was big, springing up to his stomach, blush pink tip leaking messily in pre-cum. You ran your hand up and down his length a few times, even going to the lengths to move back so you could suck him for a bit. He didn’t push you too hard, just holding your hair back whilst you tasted him, licking long stripes down his shaft and sucking on the head of his cock. But you didn't for long, so eager to get him in you. He could sense how needy you were, helping you back onto his lap and lining himself up with your slit, before you sank down on him almost entirely in one go. This did it for John, as he let out a hiss of pure pleasure; his head was now fully leant back whilst you moaned softly against his chest, cockdrunk after a few mere seconds. You moved slowly at first, and then fastened your pace, grasping for any sense of relief as he talked you through it all.

"Doing so good f'me sweet girl," he grunted as his hands held you, moving you up and down his cock.

"This pussy's sweeter than any cake you could make for me, love."

Tag list 𖠋: @punkkture @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @siphon07 @figthoughts @mlthree @decaffeinateddelusionbread

[radioisntdead]

Reader forces Alastor to go to the dentist

Warnings: this is the result of me drinking four cans of pineapple juice to reduce swelling after the dentist, reader is Alastor's spouse but this could be read as platonic as it's only mentioned once or twice, OOC and lazily written this is literally just me projecting. SHOULD CLARIFY I ONLY HAD FOUR CAVITIES, DO NOT USE CHARCOAL TOOTHPASTE.

Well, well,well who knew not brushing your teeth and eating sinners would land Alastor with a toothache?

You did, that's why you booked him multiple dentist appointments in advance, no doubt he had cavities and you didn't think he would appreciate having dentures despite being old enough for them.

You had to recruit Rosie to help you drag him to the dental office because he kept trying to do his whole fade into the shadows bit

It didn't go as well as he'd because you tackled your spouse down then had Rosie wrap him up in a carpet like a chicken wrap and carried him out of the hotel.

You hoped Alastor would be out of commission for a good minute because Angel dust was not holding back on the jokes,

And Alastor would get him back.

Anyways you managed to get a very pouty Alastor in the dental office, the stares other sinners and hellborn gave him were a mix of horror and confusion.

The poor woman calling the patient's names looked horrified as you picked up a still carpet bound Alastor and walked to the room where the teeth inspections would begin.

And the poor dentist! You had made sure the dentist you chose wasn't in hell for uh, unsavory reasons, such as torturing people or scamming them.

Nope this one was here for just plain ol' tax invasion.

And murder.

As you unraveled Alastor onto the chair he did try to escape once more, unfortunately for him, you did go with him.

Which meant he couldn't do his regular escape methods.

You had to help hold his mouth open because he kept trying to bite the dentist and their associates.

He did bite you but you came prepared wearing cushions on your wrists.

"You have twenty-two cavities, dear lord, do you even brush your teeth??" The dentist would say poking around his teeth

"he doesn't, I have to make him."

Cue Alastor trying to bite everyone again, kicking his legs up in an attempt to free himself.

This was NOT good for his ego.

He was the RADIO DEMON, he was FEARED, and HE WAS SCARY HOW DARE SOME ORDINARY SINNER SIMPLY TOUCH HIS TEETH LIKE IT WAS NOTHING?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE HAS TWENTY-TWO CAVITIES HE CAN STILL EAT YOU, yOU DARE-

He was so focused on his temper tantrum that he didn't notice one of the dental assistants knocking him out with a unhealthy dose of anesthesia.

Cue him coming back to consciousness back in the waiting room with several filled cavities and you signing paperwork and check up dates.

They give you a little chest to pick goodies out from and you get Alastor a sticker with a smiling imp with a thumbs up yelling 'smile!'

You put it right on his suit. Giving him a little pat pat to insure the sticker stays on.

He will bite you for this later once his teeth are no longer aching but it's worth it!

You have to carefully get him back to the hotel, calling a cab to take you there before you were NOT WALKING THROUGH HELL with a sluggish Alastor!!!

By the time you got back to the hotel and got Alastor nice and tucked into his bed he was back to being alert, since he couldn't really speak with a swollen mouth and sore gums his shadow was just making mildly threatening movements while he essentially pouted.

You left him there to sulk while you got him pineapple juice and a straw to drink to reduce swelling.

He's not gonna be happy when he has to go in again the next week because he didn't stick to eating soft foods and instead decided to eat a sinner behind your back, causing him to chip a tooth on a bone.

Good evenin' folks! I've been to two dentist appointments this month and I got one next week, somehow I got four cavities and they filled two today, they're waiting a week for the other two because they numbed my gums with a syringe, my dentist suggested bringing a stuffed animal next time [I'm planning on bringing Fizzarolli, my frog build a bear]

also getting my wisdom teeth out soon enough so if anyone can tell me what to expect that'll be great! Especially if one is dopey because I'm genuinely scared I'm gonna go on a fanfic ramble or something, anyway.

As always thank you for tunin' on in and I hope you have a wonderful night!

Psst! Join our discord! We do NOT have dental insurance

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ GRIEF , WALKING

you do not have flowers growing out of your veins. you do not have to be stuck in the dark corner of some room, some mind, some garden left to rot and fester.

ଓ.° ・ zayne. love & deepspace. comfort fic. quote cr : mabel podcast

the depths of the ocean almost resemble the finalities of life, the ebb and flow of the tides turned to violent waves : vicious, furious— temporary, and yet everlasting in the moment. one second beneath the surface becomes ten, then a hundred, then a thousand — because in desperation for the saving, you quickly learn that there is no way out, only through. but resilience is a fickle being, and the heart is not always meant for such turmoil. to carry the weight of it all places burden on the self, and in the strings of a humanity that lays heavy in your chest, the frailty grows and grows until it breaks. and it breaks and it breaks and it breaks.

to live, you think, is to breathe— and yet your lungs ache with a burning so intense that you almost wonder if you are drowning in the act of survival. something has gone terribly wrong. you know this. day after day, you stay afloat, but somewhere in the space between your ribs, there's a drowning somewhere, somehow. but the water isn't in your lungs, not yet, so it's okay.

it's okay. you're not drowning. not yet. so pick up the pieces and go. just go. it'll be fine.

but it's fine until it's not. you don't really break, not yet. it's almost a strange numbness, like some kind of quiet surrender, some kind of quiet defeat. quiet. quiet quiet quiet— because things are just easier that way, staying quiet. so you do. you keep such sorrows to yourself, holding them close to your chest, because they're your burdens, so why should anyone else have to be subjected to such a thing?

zayne finds that you've been too silent lately, too unlike yourself. it's the subtle things : the way you lose yourself in thought all too often, the way he carefully brings you back, that forced smile with that semblance of resignation. the way you toss and turn late at night, the way the brightness in your eyes is just a little dimmer these days. he knows. he always does. his soul has always been bound to yours, after all.

tonight, you do not lose yourself to the comforting hands of slumber. your mind races, and if anyone asked what you were thinking about, you don't think you could even truly answer. you don't know. it's like a weird emptiness— a haunting hollowness that gnaws and gnaws until it makes itself known and remembered.

1am. 2am. 3am.

you almost think you could cry. you shift slightly, turn on your side— only to face an…awake zayne. you pause.

"…how long have you been up, zayne?"

had it not been for those bleary eyes, you would have thought he'd been up this whole time, his expression as calm and composed as ever.

"i've only just woken." comes the simple answer, though there's that lingering affection you always sense. "you should have told me you couldn't sleep."

"didn't want to bother you."

you expect a simple response — it wouldn't have been a bother, and that'd be it. somehow, he'd lull you to sleep, just as he always does. but the silence that fills the little space between you is different, and you can feel the heaviness of his gaze. you don't like it. you don't dare meet it.

you're not sure what lessens the hurt : the way your name falls from his lips or the kindness in the way he speaks it-- or maybe it's the way his fingers lift your chin ever so slightly, a subtle plea laced in the warmth of his touch.

"…look at me?"

so you do. you do. you look at him, and all you can see is all the love in the god damn world and so much worry. and maybe that's what makes you break. maybe that's what makes you realize that you've been drowning all along, and that you need help, that you don't want to drown anymore, that you need something to hold onto to get back to the surface. you feel that familiar lump in your throat, but you cannot ignore it, no matter how hard you try. you feel the way your eyes suddenly sting, but you cannot ignore it.

you feel the way the devastation sinks in all at once, but you cannot ignore it. not this time.

his brows furrow ever so slightly as he studies you, watches the way you struggle. he's never been one to push too hard when it comes to expressing your worries, always waiting patiently until you're ready. but you're not, not yet, and you cannot even bring yourself to say that. not right now.

he understands. it's okay.

a warm hand on your chest, gentle. the feeling of the heart beneath the grief, beating and beating and beating : slowed, loved, endlessly, tenderly, and painfully so. zayne says nothing for a long while, and somewhere in the midst of a silence between two lovers, there is an aching felt and understood.

"…is it heavy?" he asks, quiet. "your heart?"

your hands tremble. you find yourself clutching the sheets in faint attempt to hide it, but he knows. of course he does.

yes, your heart is heavy. but so is the fear of being known and vulnerable.

you swallow hard. you nod, and even admittance in such a feeble way is enough to break your heart all the more, the pain stronger than your ability to stifle the broken sob that escapes.

"you can cry. it's alright." he says, shifting closer until the distance between your bodies is practically nonexistent. delicate is the way his fingers trace over your skin, resting over your pulse point for only a moment before his hand cups your cheek, thumb gingerly wiping your tears away. "i'll help you carry it."

you can't speak. can't respond, can't plead, can't say thank you. you just cry and cry until your throat feels raw, until your shaking hands clutch onto him like a lifeline, until your cries die down and you're left in his arms, surrounded in warmth and comfort and reassurance and sorrow all the same. he holds you close, fingers tracing circles into your skin.

"we aren't meant to carry grief alone." zayne murmurs. "you know that as well as i do. so please," a kiss to the forehead, then the cheek, then the corner of your mouth, "please let me help. i am here for you. if you're hurting, then trust me to tend to you. if you're tired, lean on my shoulder. if you need help, tell me what to do. if your heart is heavy, then i will hold it for you."

you think you could almost laugh at the way you begin to cry again with every single word. you are so tired, yet the weight on your chest is just a little bit lighter.

"…thank you, zayne." your voice cracks ever so slightly, and he smiles just the faintest bit. you wish you could say so much more, express your adoration and gratefulness, but the words remain on the tip of your tongue, stagnant. "i love you."

a pause, then the subtle way his arms tighten around you.

"you're welcome." another kiss to the forehead, reverent. "i love you, too."

he holds you like you're something precious, like you're something he's always loved and will forever love. he doesn't dare indulge in the thought of falling asleep— not until you have. and even when the fatigue has worn you down and you have slipped into yet another rest, he stays awake despite the late hours, just watching you, hoping that this slumber will grant you a moment of deserved peace after everything you have been through.

you haven't told him everything yet. that's okay. in due time. whenever you're ready, he will listen. for now, he thinks, taking in your serene expression, your fingers clutching onto him a little tighter even in your dreams, this is enough.

[moody-sunset]

A Poppy Playtime "Save Everyone" Au

Chapter Selection

Prologue

-

A thick heavy air lays itself across the room. The warm light buzzing faintly from a nearby stove lamp only manages to lay strange shadows of darkness against deeper darkness. It is there she sits in a worn-down old kitchen chair.

Tick tick tick

An old clock clicks away at the seconds. Her hands tap lightly on the oak table, her throat swallowing thickly as she tries to stop her slightly shaking.

‘Am I really doing this?’ she asks herself. Her eyes turn to the bag she packed with nothing but essentials. Food, water, medicine. She almost felt over-prepared for the one night out, but the worries of what could happen were what had driven her to the frantic packing in the first place. Perhaps it was only for her own peace of mind, but she wouldn't be leaving without it.

“I am…I'm doing this” she speaks to herself as she steadies her nerves. Only a bit longer and she'd leave. She just had one thing left to do. She finally reaches out, hands messing with the buttons on a dust-covered camera.

Click

“Is…is this thing on?” Her voice echoes against the slight whirring of the old machine. She stares intently at it, a deep sigh leaving her when she realizes it is, indeed, on.

“Good. It's been years since I've had to work with one of these” she sits further back against her chair, though her posture remains as stiff as a board, eyes holding the gleam of something wrong.

“I uh, I guess I should keep this quick. My name is Eliza Sun. Eleven years ago I was hired at Playcare. Eleven fucking years” she mutters the last part to herself, hesitating a moment before she continues.

“I saw things there- things I shouldn't have. The kids…god” she's hardly able to speak through a shaky breath.

“I don't know what they were doing there, but I sure as hell know blood when I see it. And all I could think about at the time were the missing kids and- and I hope to whatever's out there that my assumption was wrong but…but what else was there to think?” She holds her head in her hands for a long, long moment. Trying to find some sense of calm. She only manages a distant numbness.

“They threatened me when I left” she mutters through her hands, soon reaching to grip onto her hair.

“Threatened my life, my friends, my family. I'm sure that if I hadn't had so many connections both in and out of the facility they would have just killed me. I was young myself, hardly halfway into my twenties and just…scared out of my damn mind. I was so worried about what they'd do to everything I cared about- I couldn't risk pushing it. So I-…I did nothing” she pauses a moment, the reality of that fact only truly sinking in as she spoke it. Her face wrinkles into a mix of rage and devastation, a pressure behind her eyes threatening tears.

“The guilt doesn't leave, it never has. Something like that doesn't just leave you!” she fails the fight to hold her tears back and they begin flooding down her rage-written features.

“All I think about is what might have happened to those kids. What I could have done, what I didn't do” she finally turns to look back into the camera, her rage soon replacing itself with something darker.

“It's ruined me” her words are spoken through gritted teeth and harsh breaths.

“But now…” her face softens and her voice quiets.

“Now I have nothing left to lose” her voice cracks despite the determination that now gleams in her eyes.

“Everything I’ve ever loved is gone. All that's left is that place…that guilt” she takes a deep breath and tries to wash away the emotions that plague her every movement, instead trying to find a line of focus.

“So I'm going back. Whatever answers I'm looking for have to be there. I'm not sure what they'll be, hell-” she lets out a desperate laugh.

“They probably got rid of everything!” She seems almost manic momentarily before forcing herself to dial it back down.

“But it's the only place I'll find out and I…I have to know. I have to do what I should have done years ago” she grows quiet again, hugging herself in some vain attempt at comfort.

“I might die tonight, but I don’t think that matters to me anymore” her tone didn't portray any amount of fear in those words, only resignation.

“I just hope I’m wrong” she reaches for the camera, shutting it off with a simple click. The only sound left is the buzzing and the never-ending.

tick tick tick tick tick tick

Next Chapter ->

[phoenix-eclipses]

Chocolate Covered Love

Picking your nephew up from school three days a week was an easy job. You got to spend more time with your nephew, but one of the benefits you weren’t aware of was his teacher.

Teacher! Koushi Sugawara x GN! Reader

5.2k words

Warnings/notes: fluffy, maybe OOC idk I've never written Suga, one of Suga's students is your nephew, Valentine's Day special

@nectardaddy asked for Suga fic recs and I wasn't sure which they had read, so I decided just to make my own <3

When you had first agreed to pick up your nephew after school, you had never considered where it would lead you. Your sister had just started a job that would create conflict with her picking up your nephew, and your brother-in-law could only do so on Thursdays and Fridays due to his own work schedule, so you were the next option they thought of before falling onto a babysitter or after school program. With the promise of monetary compensation and more time with your nephew, you took up the offer in a heartbeat. 

The first day you arrived was the most difficult. While they had been informed of you being another trusted individual to pick up your nephew, there was a more thorough process to ensure your identity before you could welcome him into your waiting arms. But the smile on his face when he saw you made it all worth it. 

It soon became routine, the receptionist would welcome you every day you’d pick him up and you’d leave with him in your arms, heading to your sister’s house to spend time with him before she got home. 

One day though, when you arrived the receptionist simply told you to head into the classroom as your nephew was busy talking with his teacher and may be a moment. 

“Mr. Sugawara will know you’re not some kidnapper if you’ve made it this far,” was all she waved you off with when you voiced your concerns. Left with no other option, you found yourself for the first time heading to the classroom. It was what you would expect for an elementary class, decorations scattered around the room with different lessons. The whiteboard covered with a lesson, soon to be erased due to the end of the day. Over to the side, a teacher’s desk was set where you could see your nephew engaged with a conversation with his teacher. It was mostly one sided, your nephew rambling on as his teacher listened.

You found yourself awkwardly standing in the doorway. From a distance, you find your eyes entranced by the teacher, a small grin on his face while he listens intently to whatever your nephew happened to be rambling about. It was only when you had to squeeze out of the way as a child raced out of the room that you were able to move your eyes away from the man briefly. It only took another moment before ‘Mr. Sugawara’ found his eyes landing on you, which makes your eyes meet his for the first time. He gives a smile, but there’s some confusion laced in his expression as he stands up fully. His attention on you shifts your nephew’s focus as well and you soon find him running towards you, barely giving you a chance to prepare before he launches himself at you. When he’s safely held in your arms, his teacher stands before you, the confusion mostly gone with the familiarity your nephew greeted you with. 

“Hello, I had heard Kenji was getting picked up by someone else, but I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet. I’m Koushi Sugawara.” He offered a small bow and a bright smile, a slight bit of mirth in his eyes watching your nephew happily stay in your arms. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Sugawara,” you gave him your name and explained your relation to Kenji which he gave a small, understanding hum. 

“It’s nice to meet you, but I suppose you must be wanting to go now, have a good day,” he finishes his statement with your name, the sound sending a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You give a small bow to him, holding tight onto your nephew while doing so, before leaving the building. 

It’s not until your sister gets home from her job that you complain to her for the lack of warning about your nephew’s teacher. His very, very attractive elementary school teacher. 

You had originally hoped that would be the first, and only time, you’d find yourself standing before his teacher. While he was definitely your type, you were embarrassed to even admit to anyone besides your sister that you found your nephew’s teacher attractive. Fate would not have it your way however, as soon everyday you’d find yourself back in the classroom picking up your nephew and speaking to his teacher. Overtime, you find conversations flowing easier and even head into the class naturally without being instructed to. 

This routine with him fell in so naturally that when you walked into the classroom one day to find a sub in his place, the only thought that went through your mind was how you didn’t have any way to contact him in case something was wrong. You left that day, your nephew in your arms, and a slight sour taste in your mouth. 

The next day, it was with some embarrassment that you arrived at the school with a thermos filled with soup. It wasn’t anything special, you’d never claim to be a cook, but you spent your day on call with your mom to try and recreate her recipe that she always cooked for you and your sister when sick. You had spent some time before leaving your place pondering on whether or not to actually bring it. There was no guarantee that he was absent because he was sick, there were plenty of reasons someone could miss a day of work, a funeral, an injury. You also didn’t have any guarantee that he was back to the school today either, there was a possibility you were bringing this thermos of soup just to walk into the classroom and see the sub in his spot once again. 

Those thoughts were difficult to toss out, sticking in your mind even as you walked in the doors and greeted the receptionist. She didn’t even comment on the thermos, simply giving you a wave as you walked to the classroom as normal. The door was open, welcoming you in and immediately you see the man in question, crouching down while talking to your nephew. You find yourself standing in the doorway, just like the first time you ever saw him, studying his form as if something would pop out and confirm whether or not he was sick. This only ended when his voice reached your ears, your name coming from his mouth as he looked over at you with his smile. 

“Hey Sugawara!” you greeted, struggling to cover up the fact you were looking intently at him. “Missed you yesterday, everything all good?”

There was a slight tease in your voice, hoping that it covered up the concern you felt yesterday. The small chuckle he gives you makes it feel like it did the job well enough. 

“Everything’s alright, I just needed a day off. As much as I love these little rascals, it’s nice to get a little break every now and then, y’know?” Despite the joking nature of his words, you can’t help but find slight eye bags. You find yourself wondering if they were always there and you had just never noticed them before. 

“Ah, well now I feel a little silly…” you let out a small chuckle. He gives you a small hum, clearly prompting you to continue. “I thought you may have gotten sick. I mean, you work with kids all the time so I’d be more surprised if you didn’t get sick occasionally… so I made you some soup. It’s not anything special, but my mom gave it to my sister and I whenever we were sick.” 

You held the thermos out, fighting back the thought of just turning away and never speaking to him ever again. There was a splash of surprise in his expression before his smile widened and he grabbed the thermos from you. 

“Even if I’m not sick, I appreciate it, thank you,” he spoke your name once again and you felt the butterflies return. He placed the thermos on his desk, next to his bag. 

“Can… I ask a really stupid question?” your heart was racing as you spoke, begging for the floor to swallow you up as his eyes returned to you. His first response was a laugh, before he spoke up. 

“Now, now, I tell the students all the time that there’s no such thing a stupid question, so go ahead. What’s bothering that pretty head of yours?” he leans against his desk, both of you hardly paying attention to your nephew who wandered away to play with some of his classmates who were still in the room. You felt as though the butterflies had welcomed some friends in at hearing him call your head ‘pretty’. You struggle to collect yourself before speaking up. 

“Well… I was wondering if there was some way I could be in contact with you? I know you’re assigned a phone number to the phone in your classroom, but for when you’re out… or if something happens! I mean, it might be easier for you to contact me than to reach out to my sister and for her to then have to contact me if it’s not a Thursday or Friday…” you find yourself rambling, tossing out words as you struggle to form an explanation without crumbling in front of him. This only stops when your hands are enveloped by his own.

“Hey now, let’s take a deep breath, okay?” his gaze finds yours easily, squeezing them lightly. It easily ends your rambling and when he takes a step back, his hands leaving your own, you find yourself missing the warmth. “...hm, contacting me outside of my school number… my school email might be a close second but I don’t always have the notifications on.”

Despite the way he acted to be contemplating, you had a feeling he was just playing with you because after another moment of letting out a small hum, he pulled out his phone and offered it to you. “Might as well go with the most convenient, hm?”

You fight off a blush as you take his phone, typing in your number with shaking hands. He takes it back with a soft smile, typing in what you assumed to be your name. There was another silent moment as he continued typing and you felt your phone buzz. He gives a wink before pocketing it. 

That was how you found yourself returning to your sister’s house, your cheeks aflame. Your nephew none the wiser to why you kept staring at your phone so intently. 

There had been no plans to send him any messages that day, hoping for it to not appear like it meant something more to you - it definitely did - but as you were preparing dinner with your sister, your phone buzzed once again. Unaware of who it could be, you told your sister to read it aloud as you were cutting tomatoes. However, it takes her a moment to even read the message because she starts laughing instead, making you confused. She read the name first, which was enough for you to feel your cheeks start to burn once again but she continued, ignoring the fact you told her that she didn’t need to read it anymore. 

“‘Thanks for the soup, it’s delicious. I’ll definitely bother you for the recipe when I’m sick.’ And he even put a heart!” She’s barely able to keep herself from laughing as you find yourself trying to hide your face. “When did you even get his number? And soup? Please don’t tell me you bought some store soup to give to him!”

“Of course not!” you turn and pout at her. She simply gives a pointed look, clearly waiting for you to give more context. “...there was a sub yesterday and I was worried that he was sick, so I had asked mom to guide me through her recipe because it always made us feel better when we were sick. He wasn’t actually sick yesterday, but he still said thank you for it.”

“...and?”

“And what?”

“And how exactly did you get his number, hm?”

“I asked him for it… because I thought it’d be more convenient for him to inform me of any issues that happen to Kenji during the day than for him to call you only for you to have to call me,” you put the knife down to turn to face her, trying to defend your story.

“Uh huh, and you totally couldn’t have just noted down the phone to his classroom and given him your number to use for that. Or.. I don’t know, given it to the receptionist instead?” There’s silence in the room before you sigh, giving in. She laughs at you. “Well I don’t think Kenji will be complaining if you start dating Mr. Sugawara, that man has become his favorite teacher.”

“I said nothing about dating him!”

“But you were thinking about it. And I’d say you have a pretty good chance if him giving you his number says anything. Everyone knows that man is attractive, I’ve heard my fair share of the parents talk about him,” she waves your phone around as if to emphasize her point. “So, what do you want to say?”

“...you can just say that I’ll happily share it with him-”

“Boring.” She cuts you off before you can even continue. “Please, let’s make some attempt to flirt with the poor man.”

“...how do you even flirt in response to that?” 

She lets out a groan, shaking her head. “You’re helpless…”

She doesn’t say anything else as she starts typing. You immediately move over to her, peeking over her shoulder to look at what she was saying. 

“Don’t say anything weird.”

“I won’t.”

With your supervision - a lot of anxious adjustments - the message gets sent out before she guides you back to the tomatoes. You dice the tomatoes, the message burned in your mind as you anxiously await his answer. 

‘Why would I give you the recipe? gotta give you some reason to want me while you’re sick, even if it’s just soup delivery’

Messaging Sugawara, or Suga, he’s now forced you to shorten it to, was a constant in your life now. You’d send each other a morning message, he’d send a little update during the school lunch break - a thing that started as an update on your nephew but now focused on the man - and even send each other good night messages. It even began to turn into early morning and late night calls, usually featuring one of you two falling asleep on the phone. You in the morning, unused to waking up so early in the day, and occasionally him at night due to getting up so early for the school day. 

This advancement was why when his number popped up on your screen the day before Valentine’s Day, you didn’t question it when you answered the phone. 

“Hey Suga! Earlier call than normal, missed me that much?” you tease lightly, the show you were watching paused in favor of talking with him. There was silence on the other end for a few moments, raising some confusion. “Suga…?”

“Hi, sorry sorry,” there were some noises in the background as he spoke. “Are you free right now?”

“...yeah? Is everything alright?” you’re already sitting up off the couch before he even gets the chance to speak. 

“Could you come to the school to help me with something, please?” his voice is a little hesitant, clearly embarrassed for whatever he needed. 

“Sure, I’ll be there in ten minutes, is there anything you need? First aid? …soup?” you’re grabbing your shoes and putting them on while you’re speaking, trying to keep your tone light to help with his hesitancy. It works when he lets out a soft chuckle.

“No, no, nothing like that. You just need to bring yourself, I just think I bit off more than I could chew tonight and had no one else to call,” his voice is more sure now. You fight off the butterflies at the idea that you were the one he thought to call out of anyone else he could know. You weren’t even sure what he wanted from you, for all you know he could secretly be luring you to the school to kill you, but even with that in mind, you’re soon driving over to the school. 

Arriving at the building at a later hour was strange. While it was only two hours from when you’d come to pick up your nephew, the building was noticeably empty compared to how it normally was. The door was locked, but after a brief knock a janitor appeared at the door. 

“Ya here for Mr. Sugawara?” there was a knowing look in his eyes as he held the door open for you once you nodded your head. “All the way down the hall to the right, ‘s the kitchen.”

After a thank you to the man, you follow his directions to where the kitchen was. Your thoughts swarming with why Sugawara would be in the kitchen, and why he’d be asking for your help. They circle back to the idea of him planning to kill you, maybe cooking you into a soup of your own and the janitor was his accomplice. A chuckle escapes your lips, echoing slightly throughout the empty halls as you arrive at the kitchen and step in through the swing doors. 

The moment the door is out of your line of sight, the reason for his call makes sense. Throughout the room, bowls of chocolate, strawberries, and even some other treats are scattered about. By the stove top is Sugawara, intensely staring at a pot of what you assumed to be chocolate given the evidence around the room. 

“Suga…?” you call out while walking over to him. When he turns to face you, laughter escapes you before you can even help it. Splotches of chocolate on his cheeks and even his forehead. He simply pouts at you, attempting to wipe it away. His hands manage to wipe away some of it, but smeared the rest. You grab a paper towel, wet it, and reach over to wipe his face for him. You hold lightly on his chin to keep him still while you wipe off the spots of chocolate. “I don’t think you’re a strawberry.”

“Are you sure, maybe I’d be delicious?” his easy grin returns to his face, ignoring the state the kitchen was in. “Thank you for coming…”

“What’s even going on? Are you asking someone to be your Valentine or something? I don’t think you need this much chocolate and strawberries for a single person,” you gesture to the bowls full of strawberries prepped to be coated in chocolate. Despite your words, you find yourself severely hoping that it wasn’t the case. You obviously hadn’t made any steps towards being considered valentine material for him, but you wished he’d ask you instead of whoever he was considering. 

“No, nothing like that. Most of the staff here, myself included, like to prepare things for the students. Normally I can get away with those packaged candy hearts or maybe a thing of candy for each student, but we read a book that had chocolate strawberries in it and now they won’t stop mentioning them any chance they get. I thought it’d be nice for them to all get their own chocolate strawberries but… I’ve never made them before,” he lets out a sigh, leaning against the nearby counter, staring at the mess he had made. 

“That explains why Kenji came home one day asking if we could make some!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him. He holds his hands up defensively, but he can’t help but laugh. His own laugh makes yours come out as you lower your hand and smile at him. 

“Yes, yes, I admit that would be my fault. Though you would not be bothered today if Kenji hadn’t told me you had made him some,” he teasingly baited out, pointing the blame to your nephew. 

“Oh yea, it’s truly Kenji’s fault for having such a cool relative who happily learns how to make chocolate strawberries for him,” you bump into him jokingly when going to investigate the pot on the stove top. Just a simple glance is enough for you to let out a small laugh, but you force it down while turning the stove off. “Do we have free reign of the kitchen or is there anything I should make sure not to touch?”

“Free reign, as long as you don’t break anything,” he spoke while peering at what you were doing. Paying him no mind, you grab another pot, letting the other sit on the stove top to cool off. You fill it up with some water before setting it on the stovetop and turning on the burning to let it boil. Once it’s boiling, you turn down the heat and move one of the bowls of chocolates over it. 

“This is a double boiler. You could just toss them in the microwave as well, but I prefer this method since you can keep a constant eye on it while it melts. You’ll want to occasionally stir it,” you direct him over by the stovetop with a spoon before taking his spot, leaning against the counter. “You’re here to learn, not admire me making the chocolate strawberries for your students.”

There’s an eyeroll in response, but he listens, stirring the chocolate occasionally. You both chat throughout the time it takes to melt the chocolate. Once it’s melted, you help him coat each strawberry with chocolate. On top of just ones covered in chocolate, you find some sprinkles to coat on some to make them more exciting for the students. Time seems to flow smoothly as you spend nearly two hours making them and then cleaning up the kitchen from the disaster that had stormed through the room before you had arrived. 

“Thank you, again. I almost thought I was going to have to go to the store and hope they had some candy left at a decent price,” he let out a sigh, returning to lean against the counter again. 

“It’s not a problem, just means you owe me,” you tease lightly, moving beside him. “Maybe I’ll require you to inform your students that you needed my help, hm?”

There’s a moment of silence as he stares ahead, thinking. A part of you is tempted to speak up, promise you were teasing but when his eyes move to you, every word is gone. “Say… I have one thing that could make up for it. Do you want to come with me somewhere?” He offers his hand out to you. 

“Go somewhere with you? Are you planning to murder me in some forest?” You accept his hand, smiling when he lets out a light chuckle at your words. 

“I mean, if I destroy the evidence none of my students will know I needed help making their treats,” he jokes back while walking with you out of the kitchen. Despite him knowing he didn’t need to hold onto your hand, he holds it naturally, as if it was meant to be like this. He first guides you to his classroom, where he grabs his bag and thinks for a moment before releasing your hand, asking you to stay in the room while he runs out briefly, bag in hand. You find yourself missing the feel of his hand, but it doesn’t last long when he returns and immediately envelopes yours with his once again. 

With his bag in hand, and your hand in his other, you both walk out of the building, ignoring another glance directed at you by the janitor who had let you in, and head to his car. He opens the door for you, waiting for you to comfortably sit down before closing it and walking over to the driver side. 

When he gets in and closes the door, you speak up, “Do I get to know which forest you’re going to dispose of the evidence in?” Another laugh comes from him, and he shakes his head lightly while putting his key in and starting the car. The bag in his hand is carefully set in the backseats before he puts the car in drive and starts on wherever you both were headed. 

“I fear not, it’ll spoil the surprise of where you end up. But I promise it’ll be worth it,” you give him a pout in response, but all he does is offer his hand to you once again while his eyes remain on the road. 

It takes about twenty minutes before he turns into a parking lot of a convenience store. He ignores the confused look you give him, turning the car off and hopping out of the car. You watch as he runs to your side of the car, opening the door for you with a grin. “I promise this isn’t our destination, I just thought it’d be nice to have some food, haven’t had dinner yet.” 

You hop out, thanking him for opening the door for you. However, you manage to open the door to the convenience store before him, grinning at him while you hold it open for him. He rolls his eyes, but does enter the store thanks to you. You follow behind, glancing around, as if something would jump out and explain where exactly you both were going. 

“Haven’t I told ya kids to eat some real food?” a gruff voice comes out. You turn your attention over, finding an older man looking pointedly at Suga who holds his hands up innocently with a grin. 

“C’mon Ukai! It’s been over a week since I came.”

“And most people don’t come here every week! ‘Specially when they work twenty minutes away,” despite his tone, the man is already pulling out a meat bun and stuffing it into a bag. 

“Actually, I need another,” Suga speaks up, directing his gaze to you. Seemingly for the first time, the man behind the counter seems to have noticed you. There’s silence for a moment before a newspaper is rolled up and hit against Suga’s head. 

“The hell you mean?! You’re out with someone and you’re offering ‘em my food? Didn’t we teach you kids better?” he shoos Suga away, who goes deeper into the store looking for something. “God, can’t believe this kid. Please tell me this ain’t your first time going out and this is where he brings ya.”

“Oh! Well, we aren’t a thing…” you try to explain. The man just raises a brow at you, making you stumble over your next words. “Promise! I just helped him with a few things today so he’s taking me out- wait oh god is this a date…?”

The last bit is mostly muttered to yourself but the man hears you, cackling to himself before leaning over the counter to speak with you. “I’d say so. So you better make sure your next time is somewhere much better, if not come back ‘ere and I’ll make sure to teach that boy a lesson for you.” He gives you a wink before Suga returns to the counter, a basket of stuff covered with a blanket. 

“No looking, that’s cheating,” Suga waves your gaze away, making you pout but you listen and turn away. Once everything is bought, he carries the bag in one hand and holds onto yours with the other. “See ya next week Ukai!”

“Yea, sure- wait no you better not be back here again that soon!” the man shouts back as you both walk out the store. Suga laughs while guiding you back to your seat. He says nothing while you sit down but he reaches over you, placing the bag in the back seat before buckling your seat belt for you. Your cheeks heat up as he simply winks at you before stepping back, closing the door and going to his seat. The moment he starts the car, his hand finds yours once again and you are on your way to your final destination. 

It’s only another ten minutes before he pulls into a small parking lot. The building seemed to be closed, but when you both get out, Suga, carrying both bags, guides you off to the side where there’s a grass clearing and a view of the sky. The sun slowly setting and you could see as some stars took their homes in the sky. You find yourself entranced by the view and by the time you look back at Suga, he’s spreading a blanket on the ground and you catch the view of some snacks in the convenience store bag. When he realizes your attention is back on him, he pats a spot on the blanket that he sits next to. 

“It’s beautiful out here,” you comment as you sit down by him. 

“It is. I used to come here in high school. It was a nice jog for practice and the view was always a great way to destress,” he leans against you lightly while looking at the sky with a smile. “I’ve never taken anyone else here.”

Your gaze falls back on him, a little shocked at the statement. It takes a moment before his eyes look at you, a hesitant smile on his face. He pushes himself back a little, turning to his school bag and he pulls something out but keeps it behind his back when he turns to you. Despite the darkening sky, you find a note of red on his cheeks as he looks at you. He utters your name lightly, hesitance written all over his face. 

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Suga, you of all people should know there’s no such thing as a stupid question,” you give him a gentle smile. By now, you’ve fully turned yourself towards him, patiently waiting for him to speak. When he stays silent, you reach out for his hand that’s not holding something behind his back, squeezing it. He takes a deep breath, finding your gaze before he speaks. 

“It’s a little embarrassing to ask with something you helped me with but… would you be my Valentine?” behind his back, he pulls out a box full of some of the chocolate covered strawberries you both had made. However, unlike the ones you had sporadically covered in sprinkles, there was candy letters spelling out your name and a few had little hearts on them. “I know it’s the day before, so I might be a little late… but I thought I’d ask anyways. I promise this isn’t everything I planned.” 

His cheeks seemed to become even more red as he spoke. Your smile widened, accepting the box before placing it on the blanket beside you. And while the sun disappeared from your view, before you sat Suga coated in moonlight. The man who taught your nephew about the same chocolate strawberries you were gifted. The same man, who just as promised, presented you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in the morning instead of your normal morning phone call. And on this Valentine’s Day, you fell back to sleep in the morning, in the arms of your Valentine.

Divider Credit: @cafekitsune

Notes: this is my first official like full fic on here so I'm like a little nervous to post this... but I hope you guys enjoyed! Again first time writing Suga so he may not be the best but shhh

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the process

pairing: gynecologist!nanami x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; i posted another version of this for another character, but since i was debating between who i wanted it to be about, i pretty much just decided to make one for nanami too

nanami masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." nanami said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor nanami noticed your skittish behavior, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his brown eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor nanami said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, the blond man's hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "do you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor nanami's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown, stroking your skin gently.

"orgasms." nanami's hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of the man's wedding ring a pleasure contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor nanami had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, honey?" he mumbled against your skin, his words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad kento's thumb found your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come ooon, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

kento tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, "god, kento..." you moaned, pressing him against your neck, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, darling... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while kento's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. nanami so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. nanami."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor nanami's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

[midnightshindig]

hiii!! 🩷 may i request cecil x angel! reader dating hcs? ^_^ (i am obsessed with cecil 💔💔) sorry if this is worded weirdly i suck at requesting 😞

Cecil X Angel!Reader

I thought this was a very cute request!

hcs below the cut!

You're not sure why you were went to Earth

all you know is that you crashed down from Heaven into the GDA

scaring the SHIT out of Cecil

"Who are you, where are you from and what do you want?"

You batted your eyelashes from your curled spot on the floor "what?"

Cecil raised an eyebrow, his features softening when he realized you weren't a threat.

He held a hand out to you, pulling you to your feet

My god, you looked angelic

your halo is shining, the white silk gown draped over you sparkling in the sunlight

Cecil blinks a few times before he starts to get the memo

"So... you're... an angel? Like... from heaven?"

this doesn't surprise him nearly as much as it should

He knows hell is real, why wouldn't heaven be?

Regardless, he's left with this powerless angel with no concept of money or lying or sin, in his care

He can't very well turn you onto the street, who knows what might happen to you?

So Cecil ends up volunteering to house you for the time being, not trusting you with a hotel of your own.

You're sincerely grateful and offer to help out wherever you can.

Cecil ensures you this is not necessary, he's very on top of his dishes and laundry

Mostly because he wears one suit and eats takeout

but when he wakes up and you've made a full breakfast, he can't help but be grateful

"So-" he starts, taking a forkful of egg in his mouth "How'd you do all this?"

"Miracles!" You say casually, cutting your pancake into pieces clumsily, knives and cutlery and hunger are new to you

Cecil chokes on his eggs, coughing up a long and slamming his hands on the table "What-" he coughs again, leaning over the table "you do miracles? Like biblical- real ass miracles?"

You smiled candidly "Sometimes."

"Can you do another one, right now?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest

"Well if I did miracles all the time, humans would lose the ability to be good and experience hardship, and they would never overcome it." You grabbed his empty plate, stacking it atop your own, and moving to wash them in the sink

Cecil is dumbfounded

The next few months go well, with Cecil asking you to perform some cursory exams and experiments

What the hell are you?

Why are you here?

You don't know....

Cecil is frustrated at the lack of answers, but your company is pleasant

You make him breakfast and remind him to fix his lapels, and are generally just such a great person to be around

After another set of rigorous testing on your angelic properties and miracle capabilities, Cecil offers to take you somewhere fun

He figures you've been so kind and sweet to him, and so cooperative with the GDA, he sort of owes you.

You respond with a pleased grin and a small clap of the hands, poised and cute as always

Your hair has a pleasant shine to it, and your teeth are bright, with rosy cheeks

have you always been this endearing?

"Oh, yes please! I've never experienced human entertainment. What did you have in mind?"

"I dunno, whatever sounds good to you, Y/n."

After some deliberation, you end up going to the ballet together

Cecil figures ballet is like.... probably the most angelic art form? it's just fancy dancing, right?

So you're sat next to each other, your hands folded in your lap politely as the show starts

But during the performance, Cecil starts to doze off.

Until he feels a soft, well-manicured hand slip into his own

No words are exchanged, except when he looks over at you, your face is bright red

This goes wordlessly throughout the duration of the ballet

Afterwards, when the two of you are walking back to the car, your hand still hasn't left his

He breaks the hold when he's going to drive the car

until you're both in the car, then he holds out his right hand, palm to the air

You smile gently, his eyes avoiding yours

The two of you hold hands the entire drive home.

[vrsin]

~The Embrace Beyond The Veil of Time~

Linked Universe x Reader

Story by @vrsin

Linked Universe by @linkeduniverse

Guess who got the drive to write again? ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Hope you all enjoy!

~~~

✧ Prologue ✧

“I'm tired…”

“I know I know. Just hold on a bit longer! The village is just up ahead!”

The thunder continued to roar, anger behind every flash of light. The clouds rumbled as if gods were battling behind the dark abyss.

You continue to battle the howling wind, your body occasionally being flung back; pushing yourself forward to continue on the trail. The trees at an unnatural angle, some appearing to be on the brink of snapping. You occasionally look back to your partner, to make sure he was still following your light.

His clothes were beyond wet, appearing as if he fell into the ocean itself, his hair clinging to his face, his cape frantically moving in the wind. His hood pressed against his face obscuring your view of him.

“Maybe if I climb that tr-”

“NO! Enough tree climbing! God! You stay outside any longer you'll get sick! Out of all of them I think you're the most reckless with your basic health!”

“Come on! I'm not that bad! You told me one of them would wrestle goats!”

You quickly twirled around to look back at him, even if you couldn't see his whole face you could clearly see his mischievous smirk. It's always that same smirk.

“Wrestle?! No! All he would do is herd them back in their pens, occasionally he would have to grab a straggler or two by the horns but- HEY! get down from that tree!”

“Damn… thought that would work.”

He jumped back down from a tree that looked ready to fall over with the extra weight placed onto it. He clung to his hood trying to grasp any warmth, though even in this horrid condition he still held that bright smile.

“Oh ha ha. Come on, I see the village lights.”

“Can't blame me for trying! I'm.. I'm just so tired…”

You glance back at him, you can clearly see the fatigue. He's practically dragging his feet. Still holding on to that shimmering smile, clearly trying to not make you worry. You always worry anyway.

“ … I know, but that's why you deserve a bed! Not a branch.”

“... Hey um…”

He sounded tired, both physically and mentally. Something is wrong, glancing back at him, his smile fell. He's no longer pretending.

“You ok? Are you feeling sick?!”

His head perked up at the yell of worry, frantically waving his hands in front of himself, still following your light.

“No no! I'm okay, just… Thank you. For looking out for me, even if I don't do it for myself.”

You pause for a moment getting a good look at him, why is he suddenly thanking you? Why do they all do this at some point? Why do they feel obligated to thank you? You care for him, for them. Is it so hard to understand?

Why do they always thank you?

“... Of course. I care for you, you deserve nothing but the best.”

“... You always say that…”

“Because it's true, and it will always be true. No matter when or where.”

“You'll… you'll always stay by my side… right?”

“Of course! Don't even question that! I've been here from the beginning and I will always be here!”

“Then…

Are you still waiting?”

The forest is silent.

The storm has stopped.

The air is freezing.

When did it get so cold?

“What…?”

“Are you still waiting…”

You look back at him, he's standing in a dark abyss. You frantically turn over to look at the village. It's gone, consumed by this darkness. You hear soft ripples of water, you look down seeing your reflection.

The water shifts under the weight of silent footsteps walking towards you. You turn to him, his clothes are darker, his skin is gray, His eyes, blood red.

“Is he still making you wait?”

You stay silent. You've seen this place before, seen him before. But… that was lifetimes ago. Why is he here…

Where…

Where's Link?

“He's not coming.”

You stay silent, staring at each move he makes as he gets closer. He's lying.

A sly smirk grows on his face

“Oh, lying am I? Then…where is he?”

You shift, glancing around.

You don't see him.

Where… where is he?

“Gone. He's forgotten.”

“No… he wouldn't.”

His smile grows unnaturally large. His polished fangs at full view. He begins a deep bellowing laugh.

You look around, scared.

You're alone…

You're alone.

YOU'RE ALONE!

His laughter echoes throughout this cursed place. His bloody eyes unblinking as he laughs.

Then, a roar.

A deep all-consuming roar that beats the sound of the storm you were just in. He's no longer laughing, just staring.

The water moves from slow ripples into crashing waves. You frantically look around.

That's when you see it.

The scales shredding through the water.

It's circling you, waiting.

You glance up at him, but he does nothing. His smile is long gone, his arms crossed.

“He's not coming.”

The water bursts at his feet, the black scaled monster a complete blur as it makes its way towards you.

Opening its jaw, taking you in.

It swallows.

~~~

Next

Tags: @pinkittwice @luimagines @twilightpoison @cafecourage

[altocat]

I was asleep when all the Lucretia stuff was going down but I still wanna throw in my two cents, and it's this:

I think a lot of the hate towards her is people forgetting that she does not have the information that we as an audience do Especially during the time she was pregnant. No one on the Jenova Project knew that Jenova was an alien Aside From Hojo. The discussion around her choosing to experiment on her child has to be predicated by the fact she thought Jenova was an Ancient and Hojo would have Never shared anything that contradicted this to her. By the time she started having those visions and her body started falling apart it was already far too late, and it's not like Lucretia understood Why any of that was happening.

By virtue of the us the audience knowing what Jenova is, that knowledge gets projected onto characters who don't have it and never did which muddies their actions and intentions. This is a phenomenon I've seen many times in different media contexts, it happens all the time. Gast and Gillian (very occasionally) get the same treatment at times but I rarely see the same visceral hatred directed at them (and when Gast gets some side eyeing it's, justifiably, for the other morally dubious shit he did and his narrative being a confusing mess for the past 30 years lmao).

But even bringing Gast back in for a moment when he learned Jenova was an alien it was long after the fact and seemed to send him into a mental spiral. We simply do not know how Lucretia would have reacted to this information, and it more than likely wouldn't have been good. She didn't even know that Sephiroth was going to be taken away from her; acting like she had full information is just wrong.

THISSSSSSSSSSS

Lucrecia isn't even a known sadist like Hojo or a callous bastard like Gast. She's literally just...some lady. Who evidently didn't have as much power within Shinra as she assumed. Hojo likely saw her as a prime opportunity to accomplish a goal. And since Gillian and Gen's mother had already served their purpose to the project, Lucrecia probably thought such actions were logical.

And honestly? Ignoring all that, ignoring her overall knowledge, culpability, etc. When is it EVER okay for someone to be emotionally abused by their husband? When is it okay for someone to have their baby being taken from them before ever even getting the chance to hold them? The person wasn't "asking" for this. They didn't bring this upon themself. No one wants to go through this shit. It's horrible. Losing a child is an unfathomable pain that I hope no one EVER HAS to go through.

Vincent himself, whether out of love or understanding or empathy, decided that telling Lucrecia the truth about what happened to Sephiroth would only prolong her suffering. His own actions, whether right or wrong in your eyes, cemented that there was no point in further bringing Lucrecia emotional damage. He chose to be merciful. He chose compassion because he KNEW that she was in enough pain already.

Why can't we?

[jupiters-starchild]

After the First Kiss

A little Rook x Harding piece I wrote about the scene where you lock in your romance with Lace. Some aftermath and fluff from that scene. Rook uses they/them pronouns

*

"Rook I said stop! I told you not to touch me!" Lace shouts annoyed as a wobbly Rook chases after her, earning laughs from the other lords of Fortune who are there to witness this ridiculousness.

Lace runs past Taash and Davrin who had accompanied Rook to the hall of valor. Taash sniffs the air and grabs Rook as they almost faceplant chasing after Lace.

"Hey, she said stop." Taash says firmly, scolding Rook who just reaches out after Lace with uncoordinated hands. "Why do you smell weird? Rook do something to upset you Lace?" The Qunari asks.

Lace groans and lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes her head.

"No no it's not.....uhg! No Taash, Rook didn't do anything wrong." She groans.

Davrin glances at Rook who squirms trying to get out of Taash's grasp and back to Lace.

"Uh Harding, how did Rook get drunk in like....five minutes?" He asks.

"They aren't drunk." Taash says, "they smell weird but they don't smell like booze"

"Put...me down....I need to....she's right there... Laaaaaace....!" Rook whines, slurring a bit.

"No you idiot! I could hurt you! No touching untill we figure this out! You don't even like being touched anyway!" Lace groans.

"Only by you...." Rook says sadly, still reaching out to her. Lace's heart skips a beat, and she realizes it's true. While Rook would often flinch at the slightest touch no matter how casual or brief, they had never been like that with her.

"It's....it's not safe...."

"someone please explain what's happening....Im lost here" Davrin sighs.

"It's .... complicated....I....kissed them...and I think my new powers gave them...lyrium poisoning" Lace says, embarrassingly covering her face with her hands.

"You kissed Rook--"

"Lyrium poisoning--"

Taash and Davrin say in unison. Lace looks down at her hands, which are still crackling with energy.

"I think....when I touched that dagger...not only was I given those stone powers but...my body was like....infused with lyrium....it doesn't affect me but when I kissed Rook...they collapsed...like I sucked out all their energy." Lace's mind was reeling, she and Rook had being playing this game for months of will they won't they, and now that she finally had an answer to her feelings, and a positive one at that, she can't even hold them.

"I...I need to go back to the lighthouse...to think...Taash can you...make sure Rook is okay for me...?" She asks the dragon slayer. Taash looks down at her seriously and nods. Lace sighs and starts to head back to the Eluvian, glancing back at Rook who seems uncomfortable in Taash's clutch.

Once Lace was out of sight Taash and Davrin looked at Rook who seemed to have started coming back to their senses.

"Taash... you're hurting me..." Rook winces.

"Can you stand?" Taash asks slightly loosening their grip on Rook. Rook nods bracing themselves against a wood beam.

"How you hanging in there boss?" Davrin scoffs, earning him a middle finger from Rook.

"Well, the girl I've been pining after for over half a year kissed me, so that was nice, on the other hand it nearly killed me and I doubt I'm going to get a second....uhg....second chance...any time soon...I'm.... going to sit down a bit..." Rook groans lowering themselves onto the floor of the Hall of Valor.

"You look like shit." Taash says kneeling beside them.

"Thanks Taash..."

As Rook expected Lace seemed to keep her distance from them over the next few days, running or backing off whenever they got too close. After a few days Rook finally manages to corner the dwarf in the kitchen, closing the door behind them.

Lace jumps as she hears the door shut and tries to act nonchalant as she sees Rook leaning back against it with their arms crossed.

"Found you~"

"Whaaat...? I have ...no idea what you mean!" Lace stutters.

"Lace...you know that running from me really hurts my feelings." Rook sighs, "can we talk? Please Lace?"

Lace groans, seeing that look on Rooks face was not making this easier, she felt a itching sensation run along under her skin, maybe more of a prickle.

"Not fair....don't....look at me like that!" She whines, Rook cock's an eyebrow,

"This is just my face."

"Yeah...! Your cute face that....I can never say no to.... damnit Rook...I hurt you! I could have killed you! You knew the whole time and you just let me do that! You just let me kiss you!?" She's shouting, but she's more annoyed than angry.

"You have a face I can't say no to." Rook says with a smirk making Lace groan, and blush simultaneously.

"Would you just sit down? Maybe we can talk about this? Because I don't want to pretend that what happened at the hall of valor never happened. I don't want to pretend like those feelings weren't there, like you didn't kiss me." Rook pleads, sitting down at the table and gesturing for Lace to do the same. She eyes them wearily, but sits down nonetheless, fidgeting and avoiding their gaze.

"So...mind tell me what you're thinking right now?"

Lace gulps, "I'm thinking I wanna curl up into a little ball and disappear."

Rook frowns.

"I'm not scared of you. And I'm not sorry I kissed you back. Lace, we've been going through this back and forth for almost...a year, and now I know you feel the same way I feel about you. I'm not suggesting we rush into things, but I want this. I want you." At their words, the prickling sensation under Lace's skin grew more intense, "you were never imagining things."

Lace pouts, it's nice to hear that Rook still sees her the same way, that they still want her regardless, but the idea that she could hurt them with something as sweet an gentle as a kiss was terrifying.

"Lace, I'm not giving up on you. Whatever this is we can get through it, together. Maybe Emmerich has some answers, he's a well versed mage and a scholar at that maybe we start there." Rook says with a soft smile.

"I did.... mention it to him....he said he'd take a look at me." Lace tells them.

"Good," Rook says with tender smile,"let's start there."