#Idk if it's in my head but it feels like maybe my previous post made people feel that way

[nprescott]

// Anyway lis au where Nathan chickened out of helping Jefferson and Rachel is alive (possibly)

Or even an AU where he wasn't a massive coward and turned Jefferson in knowing he was also going to get in trouble. Literally all he had to do but he was too cowardly and scared for himself.

[savannahsdeath]

haiiiiii, this is my first time requesting 😖😖😖😖😖 what ab boxer ellie and boxer reader fucking ts out of each other 😖😖😖😖😖

BOXER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X BOXER!READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! just.. smut

writers note: im so proud you trusted me with your first request??!!?!! omg also idk im no boxer so.. but i tried !! also this is some short drabble or whatever buut im posting it anyway because.. yes

you always admired ellie at the gym, what usually made your workout session worthless. you were a boxer, just like her. you knew every punch or kick you saw her do, it wasn't anything new nor special. yet, the way she did them brought your attention. her movements were fluid, quick, and precise. there was no hesitation or wasted energy. everything was a perfectly timed, deliberate attack. the way she moved was like liquid, weaving through the air with ease. she was art in motion, each strike a beautifully crafted, deadly dance.

and then, she saw you looking at her. her determinated expression got replaced by the playful smirk that made you lose your mind.

"hey!" she chuckled. "anything interesting?"

her green shirt was clinging to her body, exposing every curve and muscle. it was difficult not to keep staring at her.

you tried to compose yourself, to play it cool and not let her get to you. "just watching you, and thinking about all the ways i could beat you." you gave her a cheeky grin, and raised your eyebrow to let her know you're not one to be messed with.

she laughed and approached you. "care to show me on a practice session later?" she asked playfully.

"of course!" you smiled back at her, your heart racing as her body draws nearer to yours with each step. still, you played along, pretending to be confident and totally-not-impressed. "who knows, maybe i can show you a thing or two that you haven't seen before." you added with a smirk on your own face.

as she got close, you could feel the heat from her body and see how her shirt clings to her curves like second skin. your face flushed with blood and you had to look away, unable to keep a steady gaze as she drew your eyes back to her with that inviting smirk.

that's how you ended up between her legs, showing her 'a thing or two she haven't seen before'. your tongue dipped inside her cunt, collecting everything in your mouth. then, you moved to lick her folds sleek, carefully moving up and down, stopping at her clit to suck on it. she was trying her best to stay quiet and keep her 'unbothered' facade, but you thought it's useless after she failed once. oh, how oblivious she was to the fact that you could feel how her hips moved closer to your face.

"are we- fuck, do we practice the same boxing?" she mumbled, trying to sit up and look at you but ending up squirming even more.

the air, disturbed by the vibration of your laugh, hit her inner thighs. she squeezed them around your head, but your hands quickly parted them back to their previous position.

"i don't know about you, but that's what i practiced." you replaced your tongue with your fingers, rubbing her clit while you pulled away and sat up, letting her see you. "is that something... new for you?"

she whined and moaned out a; 'fuck you', before regaining her composure and adding a more confident; "i can do just as much."

not long after that, your places swapped. you admired how full of energy she was, even though she struggled to speak not long ago.

"what happened to the 'no fucking before an important fight'?" you taunted - your breathless state wasn't enough to stop you from teasing her.

after that, she pushed two of her fingers into your puffy cunt. you gasped as your ability to speak went missing, your cheeks shining with not even bright red as an uncontrollable groan in form of her name escaped your mouth.

"i was just about to ask you 'what happened to you stuttering and blushing everytime you talk to me?'" she made a dramatic pause, letting her fingers pump in and out of you, closely watching your reaction to every move so she would figure out where your sensitive spot was. it took her about two times, or more but really fast ones, your sense of time got ruined and you weren't sure. "but there you are."

[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[restinslices]

.

Can I request a scenario where the lin kuei brothers, after rescuing the reader from an enemy who was torturing the reader, react to the hijacked!reader(idk, if you read/watched the hunger games especially mockingjay, if you didn't then hijacking in hunger games is a form brainwashing involving the venom of tracker-jackers(mutated wasps whose venom can cause hallucinations and can painfully kill a person) to alter the memories of a person in a negative manner), who reacts violently towards them and bring afraid of them, calling them a monster and verbally berating them.

I haven’t seen those movies in years but I watched some videos and looked at the wiki so I hope I got it right! I also added a Drabble for everyone as a “my bad” cause I took so long.

Also it is 5:09pm. The danger time (look at previous post. Weather shit) is until 7pm. I’m hoping we stay fine but bitch it’s raining and I hear thunder and saw lightning. Send help😭

Bitch I’m proof reading and my lights flickered-

Anger is much easier and better to feel than sadness or grief, so he forces himself to feel that instead 

The second he realizes that you've been taken by enemies, he's in a rage 

He's visibly more angry and harsh towards everyone 

He hardly sleeps or lets himself relax because that means he's not looking for you 

Someone could take a break to sit and he's asking why they aren't doing anything to help 

Once you're found he's relieved and wants to see you immediately 

All that stress slips from his shoulders when he sees that you're alive and safe 

That stress is immediately dumped back on his shoulders when instead of pulling him into a hug, you run at him and wrap your hands around his throat 

As you can imagine, he has no problem pushing you off, but he's thrown so off guard because why would he ever expect you to attack him?

You don't come to your senses and his confusion rises when you attack him again by jumping on him and trying to strangle him again 

If you weren't trying to murder him, he'd be impressed with how you hang on despite how many times he's hit you 

Having to knock you out takes a lot out of him mentally. I mean, come on y'all. You were missing for so long and instead of hugging and loving each other when you finally saw each other, you attacked him like a wild animal and he actually had to defend himself 

When he's told what Hijacking is, all that anger comes back 

Some sick fuck took you from him, tortured you in various ways and managed to change your memories to something negative. How could he not be angry? They destroyed you with such precision. It was sick. 

Bi-Han is advised not to see you again. Anyone could guess that he wouldn't listen 

He had hope that maybe you just needed rest, but that didn't seem to work 

You forgot you were strapped down and tried to run at him again. You fussed with your straps in an attempt to get free and yelled in frustration 

Bi-Han doesn't know what to say. In an attempt to comfort you, he says “we'll fix you”

“There's always something wrong with me, isn't there?” You sneered with resentment. 

He kept talking to you and it seemed like no memory was left safe. Every single memory was tainted. The image of him was tainted. Why? Why did this have to happen to someone as kind as you? Why not to him? Or, as dick head-ish it sounded, a random Lin Kuei member?

All his efforts go to finding a way to reverse it. And I can see him being angry at Liu Kang because he can't reverse it. It fuels a resentment he already holds for him

“Grandmaster, I have been instructed to not let you in this room” a Lin Kuei member said in his best stern voice. Bi-Han didn't have time for this. He had just been informed that somehow Liu Kang couldn't save you, which made absolutely no sense to him. Liu Kang, this powerful god that created the universe itself couldn't fix this one person in the universe? Someone who deserved to be saved the most out of everyone?

“Your Grandmaster didn't give you this order, did I?”. The Lin Kuei swallowed hard and tried to stammer something out, but Bi-Han pushed him out the way and went inside the formally blocked room. 

You looked over at him, still with hate in your eyes. Your brows were low, your mouth in a deep frown, your arms and legs strapped to the bed. Your face was less bruised than it was when you first arrived, so he guessed he was thankful for that. 

“You look like shit” you said. 

“I've been worried about you” he answered honestly.

“Bullshit. You lie. You always lie”

“Who told you that?” he stepped closer to you although he knew he shouldn't. “Our enemies made you think this. They lied to you. They tortured you because they knew it'd hurt me. Because I love you”. He wasn't sure he's loved anyone as much as he loves you. But you wouldn't believe him. You kept saying he was lying and you had no idea how much it killed him to see you, but not have you. 

You stared at him blankly while thinking. You smirked at him and motioned for him to come even closer. He didn't though. The various wounds he had kept him from keeping hope of you changing. 

“Do you think your father let out a sigh of relief when he realized he was dying and getting away from you? Your mother as well? Being around you is the worst torture imaginable and I can't wait until I'm set free too”. 

Kuai Liang vows that he'll find and bring you back home no matter what 

He's also uneasy and on edge the entire time 

No stone is left unturned. He's checking every possible area and is suspicious of everyone 

He knows you'll have some sort of trauma, so when you're found, he tries to give you space 

Just enough time for doctors to look you over 

When he visits you the last thing he expects is for you to do is scream and try to get away from him 

He tries to get closer to you and comfort you but you keep screaming and accusing him of trying to hurt you 

He's confused. He would never do such a thing to you. He hardly even play fought with you because he was so worried about him accidentally hurting you 

You keep clinging to the doctors and yelling at him to stay away 

He just doesn't understand how something like this can happen. He keeps trying to comfort you but you're terrified of him

He has to be dragged out because he doesn't wanna leave at all 

When he's told what's happened to you he's confused how this is even possible and he wonders if he can ever get you back 

It's not necessarily just “I want my partner back”. It's also “they didn't deserve to have their light taken away”

You stay terrified of him so he tries to stay away from you 

He checks in when you're sleep and he peeks at you when you're not paying attention 

A two way mirror is a way to watch you as well 

Honestly he'd rather have you angry at him than afraid of him

You look so broken and shaken and it's killing him 

The same way he vowed to find you is the same way he vows to save you 

Meanwhile he has other people talk to you for him. He's trying to see if maybe someone else can make you realize that he's not some monster that you've been brainwashed to believe 

It doesn't seem to work, but he keeps trying. He refuses to give up on you. 

Kuai Liang was warned that this could possibly be a bad idea, but he didn't care. What was he supposed to do? Not try? Just let you sit and rot? No. Maybe he didn't have any magical abilities that could cure you, but he could still try. 

He watched through the 2 way mirror as Tomas approached you. You were a lot nicer to him and more comfortable around him. As bad as it sounded, it made him feel awful that Tomas was your comfort instead of him. 

Tomas tried to ease you into a conversation about Kuai Liang and he watched you tense and sit up. Did you think he was going to rush in and attack you? No. There had to be some parts of you still in there. 

“Kuai Liang isn't a bad person. You've been lied to-”

“He killed your family”. 

Tomas cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Kuai Liang was too young to-”

“They’re all killers!” You snapped. “They'll kill me! He'll kill me! Did he send you in here to weaken me?!” You looked around the room in fear and Kuai Liang stupidly ran in there to comfort you as a reflex.. He realized his mistake when he caught your eye and you fell out of your bed trying to get away. 

“HE'S HERE!” You screeched like a banshee and crawled to the farthest wall. “HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!”. Tomas gripped Kuai Liang’s shoulders and pushed him away. He knew he shouldn't have been in there, but a part of him still fought back against the younger man. 

“GET AWAY! GET AWAY FAST! HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE! HE'LL HURT ME!” You kept screaming and clawed at your face. 

Tomas closed the door in Kuai Liang’s face with a remorseful look. The man stayed there and listened to you scream and destroy things around you. He didn't move or cover his ears. He deserved to listen. It was his punishment for not finding you in time. 

This is gonna sound bad, but when you go missing, he already assumes you're dead 

Hope for the best but prepare for the worst type shit 

He's no stranger to death and obviously he doesn't WANT you to be dead, but he prepares himself for if that's the case 

Don't think he's not searching tho. He’s always looking for you. He's not even eating 

When they find you he's so relieved 

He has the doctors tell him how you are because as much as he wants to see you, he knows he gotta let them do their job 

He feels so bad because all the reports he's getting are terrible. Each bruise he's told about shatters him 

He brings flowers when he's finally allowed to visit you 

When you attack him he's thrown completely off guard 

He doesn't even really defend himself at first because he's never had to defend himself from you 

At first he thinks you're angry with him because he failed to protect you. When he's told what really happened, he wished it was the first one instead 

He blames himself for not protecting you, so he'd understand that 

You being tortured and your memories being toyed with? It was terrible. He'd say he wished the tables were turned and he was tortured, but he'd never want you to feel how he feels 

He keeps trying to communicate with you but you keep screaming and trying to kill him 

Honestly he'd deal with all of that without any complaints. He just keeps being told it's not a good idea and not good for your recovery 

The insults, the foul language, the physical attacks, none of it hurts as much as the knowledge that there's a possibility he won't get you back 

He has gifts sent to you but never says it's from him 

He has old pictures sent to you too hoping that it'll spark something 

He'll keep trying to save you even if it kills him 

Tomas’ heart thumped hard and rapidly in his chest as he walked to your room, bouquet in hand. He knew flowers wouldn't solve whatever happened to you, but he hoped it'd cheer you up somewhat. He had finally been allowed to visit you after what felt like forever and while he wasn't happy to see how bad you looked, he was happy to see you alive. 

He pushed the door open and your frame came into view. Bandages covered the bruises on your face and body, but thankfully you had showered since you arrived. He hoped feeling clean gave you a sense of relief or peace. He just hoped you felt better. 

You saw Tomas and your brows furrowed- no. That couldn't be. You wouldn't look at him like… nah. 

“Tomas?” You said. 

“It's me”. He turned to set the flowers down and immediately heard people yelling your name. He turned, scared he'd see you having some sort of medical complication. What he didn't expect was to feel you shove him against the wall then onto the ground. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!”. He screamed as he felt something pierce his shoulder. It was a scissor. He hadn't even seen you grab it. How were you that fast and why were you doing this?

“Stop!” he shouted. You stared at him with loathing and hatred, which was something he couldn't wrap his head around. He winced when you pulled the scissor out. 

He blocked you from stabbing him in the chest. You looked angered and pushed on your hand to try and stab him. “What's wrong with you?” he whispered, his eyes wide in fright. 

The scissor was ripped from your hand and you were pulled off him by multiple doctors and others who heard the commotion. He got to his feet and watched as you kept trying to break free from their grip. 

“MUTT! POISONOUS MUTT!” You repeated. “HE KILLED HIS FAMILY! HE'LL LEAD US TO OUR DEMISE! POISON! TOXIC!I HAVE TO KILL HIM!” You screeched and kept struggling. He held his bloodied shoulder in disbelief. 

What had happened to you?

Once again, apologies it took so long. My writing break was timed POORLY

[viviswtings]

Alcohol wet.

So I've just been drawing Neteyam like the simp I am, and it's going great. He's inspiring me so much I got to write a whole thing for him.

Words: 2627.

Warnings: suggestive fluff? Is that a thing? Also not proof-read. Just finished and posted. English isn't my first language and there are words I'm iffy about all over. Tell me if something doesn't make sense.

The characters are aged up. Like, in their twenties sort of aged up. Don't come after me. Or do. Idk.

“Shit, you’re beautiful “

He exhaled against her face, his breath smelling of the sweet, fruity liquor he had been sipping all night.

Up until this point he had been slurring his words, letting them fall off his purple stained lips, all buttery and soft- his speech, that is- without seemingly any care for if she could understand them or not.

But this. This he said clearly. Like a cloudless day, after a particularly dark eclipse. She understood every single word, and she was exhilarated when she did.

How sweet his voice came out, how his plushy, swollen lips had caressed every word like he knew exactly what place in her heart they were meant to fit into. Taking that little space she had once made for him and making it bigger and bigger, so all her feelings may fit within her chest.

He was staring at her from up close, his nose almost touching hers. Those big, golden eyes that let her see her own reflection in the dilated pupil. She hoped he meant it, that, in his eyes, she truly was beautiful.

But alcohol did its thing as the warrior pursed hisr lips and got closer. She turned her head as quickly as she realized, for she had reacted too slowly, having been immersed in his gaze and almost gotten lost in it.

The peck on her cheek was wet, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the distressed sound off Neteyam’s chest once he figured he had failed his attempt. Leaning back to look at him, it was impossible not to smile.

His face was turned towards the ground, while his stare remained on her, brow furrowed and lips pouted. His ears, now flushing almost pink, laid tense flat against his braided hair, all the muscles in his body were tense as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. It was comical. The great, mighty warrior Neteyam te Suli was butthurt. Because she had denied him a kiss.

Maybe it was right at this very moment that a part of her mind, in the furthest back off it, has come to understand she had some power over him. But perhaps she didn’t, and it was all the liquor’s fault, for it had made her delusional.

Seconds in silence had passed, which, given the previous circumstances, was unusual. The young warrior had started bragging about all his feats as soon as the alcohol had settled in. Talking nonsense about how his father barely had to teach him anything, how he was a natural, fishing when he was still using a children’s bow, being the youngest hunter to make his first kill and finishing his ikniyama at the ripe age of just thirteen years old. He almost made her ears fall off, but she did have a special soft spot for him and his slurred, rhythmic and almost-purr like nonsense. So, she had listened attentively all the same.

“Do you not want me?” Was the first thing that left his lips after his failed strategy. She did not expect the look of doubt carved into his features. Like his worst nightmare had become true, like he was… afraid.

Her heart skipped various beats that made her throat close, so no words could come out. She couldn’t flat out reject him just because he was drunk, but saying she did-and oh, she did want him- would risk him not remembering the next morning. Even worse, he could regret it, stop talking to her altogether and leave her with the hope of finally fulfilling her one wish.

It could also escalate and she was not about to take advantage of a drunken man twice her size.

“Nete” Her voice came out as an exhale, like she had been holding her breath all along. “You… ask me tomorrow” Was her final answer, hushed, but with a bit more confidence. If he didn’t ask, she could just presume he didn’t remember and not risk her own heart being shattered.

His ears twitched, his tail stopped, and he got closer again, to which she retreated, trying to avert his eyes. What would happen if she even dared to look back at him? It scared her, so she didn’t.

Then the rough skin of his fingertips came in contact with her forearms, making the hairs on the back of her head rise up and her body tense even more.

“I will” He pressed another kiss to her cheek, a little bit further away from the corner of her mouth, much softer and velvety and leaving no trace of wetness. At least, not on her cheek.

“Alright” She muttered, barely above a whisper, much too afraid of the people around them finding out the oloe’ytakan talking in such an intimate way with her. Both of his hands on her, caressing the skin of her knuckles with his thumb while he kept hold of her forearm, as if to keep her close, to not let her distance herself too much.

He had been resting his chin on her shoulder, face almost cradled in the hollow of her neck, when he was rudely interrupted by a deep, guttural grunt he knew all too well. It would’ve had him standing straight and knocking the air off him in any other situation. But Neteyam was way too comfortable, skin all warm, hands busy and mind fuzzy with the sweetest smell.

Then he felt a hand around his neck, the woman almost under him getting impossibly straight and tense when she pulled her arms away from him. Breath tickled his ear, making him uncomfortable. “Up, boy. Don’t make me repeat myself”.

So he did. All his body screamed against it, but Neteyam got up, not looking down, unable to see the flustered girl he had left on the ground, fidgeting with her tail and head low in shame. He would’ve sobered up in a second if he had. Or so he’d most likely want to believe.

But the older man did see her. As a matter of fact, he always saw her, he did see all of the members of the clan, old or young, gatherer or warrior, it was his duty. He took pride in it. He loved his people.

But that girl, ever since she arrived, she had his eldest running around like a headless chicken. He wasn’t blind, nor a fool, the kid was sweet and very pretty indeed. That, and he knew better than to meddle with young passions, given his own record. His son had crossed a line, though. As he himself had witnessed his son make a fool of himself all night.

“C’mere, sweetheart” He offered his hand to the girl, smiling her way when she looked up at him. “How about we walk you home and I’ll take care of this one for the night”.

She smiled back, taking the five-fingered hand with her own, to which Jake pulled her up, ready in case he had to help her with her balance. But she did just fine, maybe a bit wobbly on her feet, but not a major inconvenience.

The walk to her hut was almost silent, with Neteyam’s head hanging low, too immersed in his own thoughts to even mind his step. If he didn’t know the paths of High Camp like the back of his hand, he might have found it really difficult to find his footing.

Jake only ever broke the silence with politeness, asking how they were doing- to which his son only grumbled-, and making small talk with the girl. He knew her just enough to know what to ask and keep the light smile with jokes as long as the small walk lasted. If he could make his girls laugh, this one shouldn’t have been too much different. Thankfully, he was right.

Once they got to their destination, he stepped back, leaving way for his son so he may have his privacy.

Neteyam knew he should thank his father for the chance, but forgot all about it once he had to put two words together.

“I will ask” He repeated, lowering his eyes to meet her own. He had thought about what he should say all the way there, yet he found himself dumbfounded, incapable of remembering a single thing.

“Alright” She answered back, just as she did before, hands clasping in front of her, knuckles a yellowish shade of green as she gripped onto her own fingers, her nails drawing recent shapes on her palm.

“You will accept” He sounded far more confident than his beating heart would’ve ever let her know. But this surge of confidence lasted long enough for him to hold her hands in his, so she wouldn’t hurt herself anymore. “Then I’ll have you, as you have me”.

She was choking on thin air. The way he was staring her down, brow stern and lips sealed tightly into a line, while making those statements as if he already knew. As if he was laying his head against her chest and hearing her breath catch and her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Like it was the only possible, reasonable outcome.

She had him? Never in her life had she dared to bluff such nonsense. While every young woman almost paraded around him: the nicest singers, the prettiest dancers, the most skilled healers… Every single woman with the least bit of status within High Camp took the slightest chance to be near him. She simply existed, not particularly away from him, but afraid to get so close it would end up hurting her.

Why wouldn’t they? She may laugh at her “mighty warrior” comments, but she knew they were true. He was mighty, and as tall as he was slim, agile and strong. His hair was thick and his hands looked almost heavenly when he put it up for hunting parties, his long neck and the line of his shoulders in display while the muscles in his back flexed, almost knocking the air out of her lungs.

Just as he did now. Luminous freckles making a soft path around his features, down his nose and over his cupid’s bow. He felt so soft pressed to her skin it made her tail move behind her nervously and her loins burn.

“Can I kiss you?”

He had gotten closer to her face once against, big eyes open in question, as he now held her by her arms, pulling her just a tad bit closer as he waited for an answer. If his father had heard him, he didn’t show. He cut her short before she could attempt to answer. “Not your lips”. The remark caught her off guard, but she didn’t know how to mind while he kept his beautiful, gleaming irises on her, like an expecting child asking to go play.

So, she nodded, in fear her words would fail her. Pushing far the thought of the man’s father being mere feet away. How could she deny him? Was she even supposed to? She did want him to kiss her, even though it felt wrong, knowing he was under the effects of the drink he had been having. A kiss it’s just a kiss, isn’t it? It only has the meaning you want to grant it.

All her facade fell precariously as Neteyam’s hands caressed her arms, heavy and warm, up to her shoulders, making her shiver as they made their home on her neck and held her jaw with his thumbs. Keeping her right where he wanted.

He kissed her left cheek, slowly, without making a noise, and she felt his eyelashes against her burning skin. When he went to the other cheek, she saw his eyes closing softly, as he pulled her closer by her neck. She let herself go, closing her own while his lips kissed her. As he looked at her again, she found her own hands clasping around his arms and a smile on his face. He kissed the bridge of her nose, letting out an amused huff.

His fingers made way into her hair, massaging her scalp, when she felt them lightly touch the base of her queue. Her whole body arched involuntarily into his, making her eyes close with her lips parted as he kissed her one last time in the middle of her forehead.

She looked delectable and Neteyam felt famished. Like a starved man, just torturing himself with the meal he could not have, as it wasn’t his for the taking.

He hadn’t meant to hold her like that, but the hazy look on her face had him in a chokehold and he couldn’t help himself. By the time he felt her queue against his fingers he knew he was utterly fucked. The way she molded against him, throwing her head back while she held onto him like a lifeline, her tail caressing his thigh absent-mindedly, just letting herself go in his arms like that. How was he to keep himself away from her, his father here or not. It was only her word holding him back from devouring her whole, just as she was right now.

He knew better than to approach a woman when she had drunk, but he also knew better than to drink himself stupid and there he was. If it wasn’t because he was holding onto her as much as she was onto him, he’d probably be face first on the dirt.

“Neteyam.” What a damn beautiful sound she had just made. He opened his eyes, pulling himself with all his might so he could look at her. “You should head home”. Home? Where was that place again? He’d rather not remember the way back and stay the night. But she wouldn’t have him, not then. “Your father is waiting”.

“Damn him.”  He thought out loud. “He can wait”.

She let out the giddiest of laughs and his heart could explode for all he cared.

“We can talk tomorrow”. He already knew. But right in that moment he felt nauseous at the thought of parting. Might as well hold onto her like a child so she’d coo him to sleep and calm all his worries.

“We will.” He remarked, kissing her forehead again.

“I know”. She ushered. “So go and sleep, so tomorrow may come sooner.”

Neteyam looked at her, like he had done so many times. At her pleasing features and her dimpled smile that reached her eyes. The Great Mother had made her all for him, he had no doubt. She couldn’t have made the most precious creature just to rip it away from him. She’d accept him, take him for herself and he’d be the happiest man.

But, of course, he couldn’t drag the whole affair forever. His father was, indeed, waiting for him and his patience was running thin. “Kid, c’mon. You need a nap.”

So, he hugged her, tightly, so close to him she would feel his heart against hers. He needed a home for it inside her, he reasoned, that’s why it yearned for her so much.

When he let go, she felt shaky. Her pupils inspected his face, but she let go rather easily. Her parted mouth was screaming for him, but he couldn’t drag the affair any longer, so he let her go. His hands fell on his sides in fists and he turned around, with a willpower only years under his father’s stern stare could accomplish.

He felt the man’s hand on his back, cold and somehow soothing against the burning skin of his shoulders. Like a kid, he let his father’s presence reassure him, he’d be fine. Even if it meant another night tossing and turning thinking of her, and now the very real prospect of her skin against his and her lips on his, her legs around his waist…

“Let’s get you home, kid”.

He definitely had to get home.

[kkpup]

Dream and Nightmare are creatures

My take on guardians from the perspective of it being more like a species than a role.

So there’s alot of feral twin stuff out there (well, not alot, but a good amount) but it’s usually in a “they were ‘raised’ outside, they have no people manners” and that’s great and all and also a contributing factor but I wanna see legitimately feral shite, I wanna see these guys chase down a rabbit because their low on magic and need a snack, I wanna see them rear up on their tiptoes when they feel threatened.

In particular, I like the concept of blue and dream becoming actual friends and blue losing his assumption that dream is a well mannered and put together individual. Like the first time he invites dream to stay the night and dream absolutely refuses to sleep in the guest room and blue simply cannot comprehend what the issue is but just, idk, assumes they’ll sleep on the couch or something, right?? Nah, blue would get up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and dream isn’t anywhere to be seen- but it’s the middle of winter! He wouldn’t have just left. But they did, and is in fact sleeping in a tree outside the house in the snow, head tucked into his cape like a cat.

he wouldn’t really understand cooking too. Like, they would get the concept and partakes in pastry’s (village definitely gave them sweet bread and the likes) but blue would try to feed him an actual meal and he would just stare, because why does it have so many smells? And why is the meat so dark and has little bits on it? Has it gone bad and blue didn’t notice, or maybe doesn’t care??? They don’t want to be rude so they wouldn’t say anything but that just confuses blue more. He hisses when stretch looms threatening, bares his tiny fangs as his magic sparks (technically effective, stretch would be too flabbergasted to keep posturing). It’s not that blue never saw it before because it wasn’t there, it’s more that being and doing something so drastically different than what dream was literally made for (protecting Nim at all cost) that he’s in a constant state of disassociation, living day to day in the 3rd person. But blue made them feel safe, made it ok to be present even if everything was still so much for them. Down side: blue has to deal with his silliness now.

Nightmare of the other hand;

He has had a whoooole lot more time to, mayhaps adjust is the incorrect word, but certainly learned to mask his reactions (ie, pain, instincts, mobility issues) he’s just very good at hiding things. As discussed in a previous post of which I’m unsure how to link, Nightmare would eventually start acting like his real self around the boys, that would also include him acting like a feckin gremlin. Nipping at people when he’s been touched for too long, tilting his head to and fro when he’s listening very intently, making little noises when he’s talking to indicate tone (incredibly appreciated, if not a bit amusing, to the gang because Nightmare is VERY monotone). He would also be a little bit overwhelmed by processed foods but it wouldn’t be obvious because he won’t eat in front of anyone outside of the boys. sometimes. (Think anxious dog squirreling away food)

uhhhh, that’s it for right now. Will anyone actually read all this? Nope, but it got it off my mind 👍

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Okay I’ve been toying with an idea for a Six of Crows au post-Crooked Kingdom where Van Eck won for a little while now and yeah idk but I had a scene idea come to me just now so I’m gonna write it here to see what you guys think and if there’s any interest then I might add it to my list of fics to write

This feels like a weird introduction but, er, here we go:

Inej knew the moment Kaz got home. There were no longer any crowds in the house to come to attention at his entrance, or if there were then no-one had bothered to come down to the half-room and tell Inej, but she could hear his voice drifting through the vents as soon as the door upstairs banged shut behind him.

“Where’s Inej?”

“Where do you think?” Matthias’ reply came roughly, and Inej could all but picture the disapproving grimace that must be crossing his face about now.

Let him judge. She didn’t need to leave the half-room, and for as long as that was true she wouldn’t. The vents did not give her every room though, and she did miss gathering her secrets. She wondered if there was anyone else in the house, but the five of them. Five? She stopped and counted them on her fingers. Yes, five. Hopefully still five. Inej had not bothered to leave the half-room in days, and no-one had been down to see her since yesterday morning.

She heard the door click open behind her, of course, but she did not bother to look up as Dirtyhands entered the room.

“Wraith,”

“Don’t you read the papers, Kaz?” Inej asked, without turning, “The Wraith is dead,”

She stood up, hand wandering across the table for her little pot of jurda. It tasted like shit and it wasn’t nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, but it took less than a month for the price of the blossoms to surpass the height of the stars so she’d have to make do with whatever they had left.

“Inej-”

“They found her body on the steps outside the Church of Barter almost three months ago, remember?” she finally turned to face Kaz, unscrewing the lid on the little silver pot as she did so, “Killed by some mercenary called the White Blade, who still hasn’t been found by they way in case you haven’t seen the latest. I guess it’s difficult to catch a ghost,”

Difficult to catch a wraith.

“We’ve had this conversation several times, Inej-”

“And we’re going to have it again,”

Inej placed an orange jurda blossom on her tongue, then offered the open container to Kaz. It was almost empty. He waved her off.

“I thought you didn’t go in for that sort of thing,”

Inej shrugged.

“Gotta stay awake somehow, haven’t I? We’re busy,”

“We’re not on a job”

“We’re never on a job. Unless the reason you’ve bothered to grace me with your presence is a proposition?”

Kaz shook his head.

“I just wanted to tell you there’s no news,”

Inej looked away. There was never any news. And yet somehow she always expected differently.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Probably,”

Inej caught another jurda blossom between her fingers. She needed to stay awake, because if she slept she would see him. She would see all the ways she’d failed.

“It wasn’t your fault, Inej, we’re having the same conversations on repeat can’t you see-,”

“And we’ll have them again,” she shrugged, “We will have this conversation again, Kaz, because I made a mistake and you are coddling me like a child who won’t be able cope if you tell them something was their fault. Tell me it was my fault, Kaz! We both know that it’s true,”

Kaz shook his head.

“I’d rather repeat the previous,”

“Then let’s,” snapped Inej, because hell if this jurda wasn’t strong enough to keep her awake then maybe an argument would be, “Let’s repeat the goddamn conversation, Kaz, because you’re right. We have the same two conversations on repeat and do you want to know why? Because I am owning up to the mistake I made and I am trying to deal with the consequences of it, but you had no right to do what you did, do you understand me? You messed up and you need to take some damn responsibility, because if you think-”

“You always knew Tailoring Dunyasha’s body to look like yours was a possibility for your escape option,” said Kaz, calmly.

She hated how quiet his voice was, how slow and deliberate he sounded next to the and ramblings that she could not stop from stumbling out of her.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she hissed, slamming her jurda back down on the table.

“I couldn’t have done anything to stop that,”

“You could have tried,”

“Inej-”

“Shevrati,”

Know-nothing.

She waved a hand vaguely at the door.

“Get out,”

Kaz turned to leave, then paused.

“I am sorry, Inej. They’d like to see you upstairs, you know. Nina misses you,”

“Nina can come down here then,”

“Inej… I can’t do anything for you but apologise,”

“Keep you apologies,” she snarled, and when the door had closed behind him added: “Choke on them,”

Kaz could apologise all he wanted. She would not forgive him. What right did he have to expect anything different from her than this? Did any of them? Kaz had not had to watch his parents cry, as they carried home the body of a child that wasn’t theirs. Kaz had not had to feel the ironclad grip of the person he thought he’d trusted most in the world as they held him back and told him to swallow his sobs and keep quiet. Kaz had not given up and gone limp in their arms, a mess of tears and useless prayers, as he saw his parents slip from his grasp once again and knew that he would not have the chance to tell them truth.

Kaz had also not failed the others, and did not have to feel the truth of that choking him every time he saw them. Kaz had not spent almost three months barely daring to venture out of the half room, just so he would never have to lock eyes with Jesper Fahey. There was a scream inside Inej that had been slowly building itself since the day of the auction, and if she did not find a way to release it soon it may very well eat her alive.

[notomys-mordax-blog]

I've let my thoughts marinate for a while after finishing up Dragon Age Veilguard. In the spirit of contributing to a fandom that I love, I'm going to be shouting my general thoughts about the game into the void instead of having the decency to keep them in my head.

TLDR: it's complicated. Better than expected, but still pretty flawed.

Things I liked:

I was initially pretty meh on the toonier direction they took the character art in. It felt like ... knock-off overwatch. However the style really grew on me as I played the game and I found that the character models were really expressive in a fun way.

The environment design was really colorful and fun! One of my biggest critiques of DA:O was how ... brown and ugly the game was. While I think it was probably the right artistic choice to remove the hilariously over the top post-combat blood splatter effects, I do miss it. This game had some really interesting visual design.

Watching Solas's worst memories like episodes of Real Housewives with the crew.

The combat was also more fun than expected. I definitely prefer tactical combat in games, and don't generally enjoy action games, but I had fun with it and felt like it struck (for me) the right balance between difficulty and frustration.

There were some really interesting and subtle things in some of the writing (especially when combined with character expressions). There were little characterization details that I thought were really well done (for example: the fact that Lucanis was obviously the most rattled at weisshaupt) . The prison of regret was a high point in the series.

I really liked a lot of the big lore reveals.

It was fun seeing some of the environments that we've only heard about. in the previous games.

I actually really enjoyed how direct Taash's gender adventure was. There was no room for "well actually, they aren't non-binary, they are this unique fantasy term that isn't actually queer". I also enjoyed how it acted as a vehicle for the other gnc characters in the story to have their moments. Bonus points for also having non-binary characters doing something other than gender with their lives.

The game was functional, complete and ran well on launch! I had to put down BG3 for like two months because it was unplayably buggy when I picked it up, and the ending of DA:I really doesn't have any impact without Tresspasser, which came out much later.

Things I didn't like:

The writing was very uneven and pretty awkward at times. The number of times the phrases "Gods, Rituals and Artifacts" were uttered by different characters, often without any further explanation, really made me itchy. It was really weird to me why the characters kept calling the Evanuris Gods (especially with a non-elven Rook). I also wanted to grab Neve by the shoulders and shake her whenever she talked about the venatori doing a ritual. WHAT KIND OF RITUAL? GIVE ME SOME JUICY LORE TIDBITS BEFORE I CHEW MY ARM OFF.

The venatori and the antaam were straight out of Saturday cartoon villains. Their motivation also made absolutely no sense from a world-building point of view (maybe if they leaned more into the fact that the elven gods were also the Tevinter old gods ...?). This whole conflict really felt ... underbaked.

I can respect the game design choice to want the player to be completely heroic, and frankly -- given that most people don't pick the "evil" path, it makes sense to devote more effort in creating permutations of the good path ... but I do feel like they really could have pushed the themes of "as a leader, sometimes you won't have any good choices" a little bit harder (idk -- I think it would have been interesting if instead of the blight dragon, you would have to chose whether or not you'd ally yourself with the venatori and leave Treviso to the Antaam or vice versa).

DA:I does a good job convincing me that Inky is creating complicated alliances between different powerful factions. DA:V falls flat in this regard. I think they were aiming for the different factions to feel small and scrappy, but with the exception of the Shadow Dragons (and maybe the Lords) ... the Wardens, the Mourn Watch, and the Crows are major political forces ... which feel weirdly small.

All of the companions were pretty ... unobjectionable and straightforward heroes. As someone who personally loved the dynamic between Anders and Fenris in DA:2, I was pretty disappointed by the lack of inter-party conflict. Serious cultural conflicts between characters such as Emmrich and Tassh were resolved .... without much fuss. I didn't feel like any of the conversations about the fact that Lucanis kills people for money had any teeth.

In that vein, I felt like the worldbuilding was also pretty defanged. Topics of racism and religious oppression were very prominent in earlier games. I think it's pretty obvious why having an oppressed racial minorities gods being the main villain would be a bad look. Heck, I can also understand and respect these themes being less fun for the writers to explore in the hellhole that is 2025, but I think this could have been handled in a more elegant way. Instead it felt weird and hand-wavy.

The crows really must've hired a PR team after that whole incident with Zev. My headcanons really had to do some heavy lifting.

We finally get to see Minrathous, the biggest magical city in Thedas ... and the area we explore is just a generic fantasy fishing town? We see the cool floating canons in the intro sequence! Give us more of those.

The game was inconsistent about incorporating bits of Rook's origins into the dialog. For example, the seer in Rivain explaining their relationship with spirits felt really weird with a Lord of Fortune Rook. Another (minor) example, Mourn Watch Rook eats the fish, it would have been neat to have the option for him to be vegetarian (given that this is common in Nevarra).

Romance is my favorite part of dragon age, and I felt like all of the romances were very ... paint by numbers.

Dreadwolf would have been a much better name.

Some of the comments from people involved in the game (specifically the AMA -- but also the whole "this is the most romantic dragon age game ever") had a weird vibe.

Where are Solas's agents? What happened to them?!

We were not betrayed by any of our apostate companions, 0/10 this is an important aspect of any dragon age game.

Rook felt like the boss that nobody wanted to invite to do anything fun. The companions seemed like they had a lot of dynamic with each other, but they never really directly spoke with Rook. It was weird how you couldn't talk to them. You had to awkwardly listen in on their conversations. Pretty much all of the companions have more chemistry with each other than Rook.

I have more thoughts about specific characters and plot points that I may share later, but I needed to expunge this from my mind like an exorcism.

[scoobydoodean]

ok lol officially most annoying anon in the world (“mischaracterization” anon who just said they were abdicating from the convo 4 being high as balls which. is real and i should stop cuz atp im p sure the whole point of what ur getting at is going over my head lmfao) BUT in terms of what u said u were getting at in ur poll (like if the writers were cognizant of it or if it’s more a display of their own internal biases? again im stupid and high sorry if im once again missing the point by a mile)… BUT

I don’t have any strong inclinations either way but if I had to choose I’d have to say it’s more their own internal/personal bias’s coming out rather than something they were expecting the audience to pick up on and maybe think about. And the only reason I say this is because the identities/status of the people she killed were never really explicitly stated (at least from what i can immediately recall of the episodes) or brought up again.

like it’s notttt rlly brought up throughout the episode aside from just learning that those people are dead and she killed them? like idk nothing about it rlly inclines me to believe it was anything more than subconscious or latent beliefs in the writers because I do think we were supposed to empathize with her so it does make sense in that sort of lens that the writers chose “criminals” or whatever to kinda “soften the blow”, if u will, of her having killed people?

idk. i wanna know what what u think tho!!! like in terms of the poll u posted what would ur answer be?

I have mixed feelings about it, because I think the previous associations the writers have made with Sam and class (as well as Dean and class—for example—in 2.20 "What Is And What Should Never Be") make it very possible it's intentional. Sam justifies Amy's actions partly based on class, and Dean condemns her actions partly for the same reason—that she doesn't get to kill people and get away with it just because they're beneath her on the social ladder. It seems so obvious that one wants to assume it's very intentionally and purposefully done.

At the same time, you are right that the presentation of the story—told through the mouth of a cop and a few newspaper clippings—is heavily biased against the victims. The cop says the third victim deserved it because he had been in and out of jail for petty offenses, and Sam calls him a "low life". You have to work very hard to capture the story of the second victim in the newspaper article. You really can't capture the story on those pages without really sitting down to read, paused on the correct frames. A prominent part of the article is focusing on the victim being a heroin addict who had relapsed and was high when he went to the park. He was vulnerable and "in the wrong place at the wrong time". What gets me the most though is the prominent headline for the first victim: "Body found in park, victim known to police". What a gross way to poison the well. The barely visible subheading reads: "Man had been arrested multiple times, had outstanding warrant". (Again—these multiple arrests indicate petty offenses rather than felonies—probably another addict). When Amy makes an attempt on another victim in the park (only to be stopped by Sam), the target is drunk and fumbling with his keys, trying to get into his locked car. So in every case, the presentation not just from Amy and Sam and the cop but the episode as a whole attempts to bias the audience against the victims, trying to paint them as people who shouldn't be missed, who deserved what they got, and/or whose vulnerability was to blame for what happened to them.

Amy seems to target people who are high or drunk in the park at night because they're vulnerable and alone. I think some fans jump to frame her choice of targets as vigilantism that helps assuage her guilt, but none of those people deserved to die—and it really isn't vigilantism—she's simply following her own mother's shrewd M.O.—you target people who are alone and whose situational awareness is impeded by substances and whose deaths the cops won't put much effort into investigating because they don't see them as victims.

I also think this episode tries very hard to paint Dean in a negative light even prior to him killing Amy. Bobby insists Dean's concern over Sam's well-being isn't warranted when it is perfectly warranted. (We've seen Bobby brush off Dean's reasonable concerns before in 6.06). Then Sam pops off, cutting Dean off to throw a bunch of nonsense in his mouth, and conflating himself with Amy in an absolutely ridiculous way. Dean's voice is suppressed (which is also imo—a prominent feature of the Dabb era in general later in the series). On top of that, this certainly isn't the only episode where Dabb and Loflin's most overt messages try to bias the audience against Dean.

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 007

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Idk we get our backstory shown that I made up on the spot while tweaking out for my essay

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yall get ready for Chapter 9. It'll be an hour or two before I post it soooo keep an eye out idk

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

“You’re avoiding my question,” she says lightly. “About your old world. You gave me just enough to satisfy my curiosity, but not nearly enough to satisfy me. You told me about politics and the news, but nothing about you specifically,”

You meet her gaze, “Why do you care?”

Griselda tilts her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Because you’re interesting. And because understanding you might help me make you better. Besides, you have a story to tell - I can see it in your eyes. So, go on. Indulge me,”

For a moment, you consider deflecting again. Why does she even want to know? It’s not like it matters here. But something about Griselda’s persistence wears you down. Maybe it’s the exhaustion of the lessons, God she’s just brutal. It’s been like five hours leave me alone please. But… sharing my story won’t do much, will it?

“My mother died giving birth to me,” you say, your voice steady despite the weight of the words. “It was just my dad and my two older brothers after that. My dad… he was always on the move. He’s a famous MMA fighter, always traveling, always training. And my brothers, Hyoga and Haru, they’re rising stars in the film and idol worlds. They had their own lives to live.”

Griselda listens intently, her expression unreadable. You continue, the words spilling out more easily now. “MMA fighter… does he fight for money?”

“Yeah, he’s famous everywhere. I don’t know much but, they don’t fight because they had beef or a vendetta against one another. They fight for money, for fame, for influence. I dunno,” You notice yourself digressing, and you pivot yourself to continue on with the story, “We technically lived in the same house, but it never felt like it. My dad was barely around, and my brothers… they didn’t want much to do with me. They wouldn’t take my calls, wouldn’t respond to my messages. I think they blamed me for killing our mother. Or maybe I just blamed myself.”

I shouldn’t even be telling her this. Why does it feel like I’m confessing to a crime?

“I even have a different last name from them,” you admit, the bitterness creeping into your voice. “I thought they didn’t love me. I still do, sometimes. But I don’t care anymore. At least, I tell myself I don’t. It’d be nice to reconnect with them, maybe even yell at them for how they treated me. Or, for the lack of it. But if I never see them again, I’ll live,”

Griselda’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t interrupt. Her silence feels heavy, almost like she’s daring you to keep going.

“I was doing well in school,” you add after a moment, straying away from the topic of your family, “Before I came here, I was applying to universities. It was the one thing I had for myself, you know? My dad didn’t care, my brothers didn’t care, but I cared. I thought, if I could just get out, I could build something better. Maybe they’d forgive me,”

Griselda leans forward slightly, her gaze unrelenting. “And do you still want that? To build something better for yourself?”

You hesitate. Do I? Or am I just trying to survive here now? Finally, you nod. “Yeah, but it’s too late now. I regret not storming up to whatever country they were in and yell at them. That’s all I can do. That’s all I could do,”

Griselda hums thoughtfully, sitting back in her chair. “You’ve had a hard life,” she says. “But compared to the children here… well, let’s just say you had it easier. Your pain isn’t valid. It just means you’re stronger than you think. And that strength is needed if you’re going to survive in this world.”

Easier? The word stings, but she’s not wrong. The children here, raised by a human demon have endured horrors I can barely comprehend. Still, it doesn’t make my own struggles feel any less real. I don’t care how they grew up. I care about now.

Her words linger in the air as you meet her gaze. There’s no pity in her eyes, only a quiet understanding. For the first time, you feel a flicker of respect for her - not as an instructor, but as someone who sees you for who you are. It’s a shame. She should have appeared more in the story. I’m sure she would have lots more fans.

“Thank you,” you say finally, the words surprising even yourself.

Griselda smiles, her usual mischief tempered by sincerity. “Don’t thank me yet. We still have a lot of work to do.”

And with that, the lessons continue. You shift your focus back to balancing the book on your head, forcing yourself to stand straighter, to take more deliberate steps. But your mind keeps drifting back to your conversation with Griselda. Why did I tell her all that? It’s not like you trust her - not completely, anyway. There’s something about her that feels… dangerous. Not in the same way Lante does, but dangerous nonetheless. She’s too perceptive, too good at peeling back layers you didn’t even realize you were hiding beneath. She’s probably where Roxana got her cunningness, I wouldn’t be surprised.

As if sensing your distraction, Griselda snaps her fingers. “Focus. If you can’t manage proper posture, how are you going to manage anything else?”

You scowl but comply, adjusting the book again. “You really think all this is necessary?”

“It’s an order from father,” she replies smoothly. “You’ll be surrounded by people who will judge you for every little misstep. One wrong gesture, one awkward phrase, and they’ll dismiss you as unworthy. Is that what you want?”

“No,” you admit. Yes. It means I get more time to myself. But I’ll die if I screw this up. Literally. The thought feels too depressing to voice aloud, so you keep it to yourself.

Griselda continues to drill you on everything from posture to table manners to the subtle art of making conversation without revealing too much. It’s boring, but you can’t deny that she’s good at what she does. By the time the sun begins to set, you’re exhausted - not just physically, but emotionally.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

On your way back to your quarters, you replay everything in your mind.

When you finally collapse into bed, your thoughts are a tangled mess. You think about your family - your dad, your brothers - and the life you left behind. You think about Griselda and her sharp eyes, her ability to see through you like you’re made of glass. And you think about the future, the challenges that lie ahead, and the person you’ll need to become to survive them.

Am I really strong enough for this? The question echoes in your mind as you drift off to sleep, the weight of the day’s revelations settling heavily on your shoulders. But even as doubt creeps in, there’s a spark of determination that refuses to be extinguished. You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re not ready to give up just yet. Because I’ll change it all.

[nocasdatsgay]

From the Shadows, the Beast Will Rise CH. 7

Pairing: Azeris | Word Count: 2464 | Chapter Rating: T

Warnings: Canon Typical Mentions of Violence

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | Read on AO3

Fic Summary: Months after that one encounter, Eris receives demand for a response to his summons to visit the Night Court. He ends up with warning for the future and a certain shadowsinger back under his skin.

Chapter Summary: Shadow Intervention forces Az and Eris to confront each other.

A/N: Hi, So if you don’t follow my other posts or fics, I apologize for the lack of update on this. Life and the AO3 curse got me. That said for the new year I hope to keep this up and finish this fic. Also did I spell Koshei wrong? IDK lol

Tagging: @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @thisblogisaboutabook @daycourtofficial @ninthcircleofprythian @acourtofladydeath @ysmtttty @pit-and-the-pen if i missed you or added you by accident let me know

Azriel had ignored the tugging of a rogue shadow all day. The others seemed agitated but not as much as the single one tugging on the straps of his leathers. It was a gentle, repetitive nudge. One that he could ignore as he went about his day in the depths of Hewn City. He’d been volunteering more and more to keep himself occupied. And there was no lack of work because Koschei was getting restless with Beron out of the way. 

Azriel spent the whole day with a nasty fae from the continent. He’d delivered a message for Vassa and Lucien struck him unconscious before he could leave. Then he brought him to the Night Court and Azriel brought him to the bowels of the city. Not much was learned. By the time Azriel was done with him not much was left either. 

“The bond chafing that bad, brother?” Rhys looked over the body, scowling. 

“You know how it feels. You tell me,” Az grunted in reply, wiping his hands despite having washed them three times already. 

Rhys snapped his fingers, the body disappearing. There was an immediate sound of the beasts below thrashing about in the water, hissing and snapping. It had been a while since they had a treat of fae flesh. 

“Still no word?” Azriel knew who he meant and shook his head. Rhys relaxed his shoulders. “Maybe you should go speak to him. Request an audience.” 

Azriel scoffed. “He doesn’t want to see me.” 

“You don’t know that-“ 

“I think I do.” Az cut him off. He hated the pity he saw in those violet eyes. Az added. “He’s still establishing himself. It takes time.” 

Inside the bond squirmed. Like it knew Azriel was making up bullshit. Rhys didn’t call him out on it. 

“He’s sent out correspondence since he’s been High Lord.” Then Rhys got a gleam in his eye Az didn’t like. “Write to him about this new development. He is our ally.”

“You’re high lord-“

“And I am busy. I have a date with the high lady.” Rhys smirked. “First real one since Nyx was born. You wouldn’t want me to cancel that to waste time writing letters on information you have, right?” 

Az made a vulgar Illyrian gesture, causing Rhys to throw his head back laughing. 

“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Azriel.” Rhys said before winnowing away. 

Azriel didn’t know if he wanted to thank or punch his brother in the face. Wearily Azriel winnowed to the House of Wind, wings outstretched to catch himself so he could land. Nesta and Cassian weren’t home; both stationed in Illyria after a joint decision with Rhys and Feyre to keep the armies on call. Without Nesta, the house felt dormant. The only indication of it still being alive was the plate of hot food waiting for him in the kitchen.

He almost didn’t take it. 

Resigned, he sat down at the table and forced himself to eat. It was a mindless action- one to replenish the energy he expended in the dungeons. He scarfed it down quickly, mentally preparing for the letter he was going to have to send for Rhys. He still was dreading it when he dropped the empty plate into the sink and made his way to his room. 

Come. A shadow curled around his ear. Another tugged his wirst. 

What are you doing? He tried to stop but more shadows pushed him forward. 

Now he was curious. He entered his room and the shadows scattered. Glancing around nothing seemed different or out of place. The shadow on his wrist tugged him forward. He stopped at his desk. Under the fae light lamp was an envelope he hadn’t seen before. Shadows pushed him to his chair to make him sit. 

“Okay, okay,” he said aloud. 

Read. The shadows hissed and dragging his hand over to an envelope. 

He picked it up. The smell hit him first, making his stomach twist. It smelled like him. There was no writing on the envelope, but when he flipped it over a shock went through him and the bond in his chest tightened. It was an Autumn Court seal- Eris’s seal. He suddenly felt nervous. 

Open shadows whispered. With shaky hands he pulled open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside. 

Azriel

If you’re reading this, you are a better male than myself. I would not wish to speak to someone who denied a bond such as ours. Nonetheless, I apologize for the lack of correspondence. There are obvious reasons, as I’m sure you know, for why I have not been able to formally reach out to you. I am (Azriel noted that ink gathered in a large dot next to the m) sorry, for how I reacted. It’s not everyday you find you have a mating bond with someone who’d skewer you with their knife at any given chance. 

Azriel winced. A shadow curled around his ear. Read. More. With a sigh he continued. 

And it pains me. It pains me that it lay dormant for so long. It pains me that centuries have gone on and I thought the pull to you was a weakness I had to overcome. That the history between us is full of sins I cannot atone for. For that I am content to let it remain as it is, as much as I wished this would work. I do not deserve this sacred link between us but I will never reject it. Despite what you think of me I am not that cruel. Maybe in another life we could try again. I know it isn’t what you want. That I am not what you want.

And yet everyday I am filled with a longing for your presence that all but suffocates me. I dream of what could be if we were different fae. If I had not been a coward centuries ago. It enrages me at times. How the Mother could be so cruel and me so unworthy of my destined half. I dream of another life with you often. So much it’s pathetic-

Azriel stopped reading, and tried to not ball up the letter as realization set in. Eris wants the bond. It played in his mind over and over as shadows whirled around him, whispering things he couldn’t focus on. His wings flared out. The bond in his chest felt heavier than it had in weeks. Urgency rose in him as his thoughts went frantic. 

He needed to see him. 

He needed to tell him. 

We will take you. Shadows startled him with how loudly they spoke. We will see our mate. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris let himself fall back onto his bed, hoping the tonic would start working. His head was pounded- Edith said he needed rest but what rest was there to be had? He’d yet to make his rounds as new High Lord through Autumn. Untangling his father’s previous treaties and laws was proving to be a more daunting task than he anticipated. 

He rubbed his forehead and he smelt it, the air shifting. Crisp evergreens. Azriel. 

Eris sat up. Out of the darkness in the corner of the room Azriel stepped forward like an angel of old. No words left Eris’s mouth, just the bond aching in his chest and Azriel approached him. He didn’t speak as he pulled Eris forward, those blessed hands threading his hair and pulling Eris up into a kiss. The way his body relaxed in Azriel’s hold and the sigh he made as he kissed him back was unlike him. The bond in his chest flared and squirmed, wanting. Eris wanted to lay back and pulled Azriel down with him. Instead he forced himself to pull away. 

“What are you doing here,” Eris panted out his breaths, trying to get a hold of himself. 

Azriel did not move back, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket. “I got your letter.” 

Like cold water tossed on to him, Eris recoiled and his mood dampened. “What letter?”

“It had your seal- Eris,” Eris swallowed hard at the sound of his name on Azriel’s lips and the way his hazel eyes were frantically searching his own. “I want the bond too. I want this. I want you. I don’t care what I have to do- we can make it work-“ 

He shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to get that letter.” 

Az stiffened and frowned. “What?” 

“I wasn’t going to send it. I don’t understand how you got it.” As if taunting him a shadow appeared, poking over his master’s wings. Eris glared at it. 

“But you meant it, right?”

Eris looked back and hazel eyes were practically begging. Azriel wasn’t supposed to see that letter. No one was supposed to see that letter. The things Eris said were never meant to see the light of day. He wanted to lash out- to lie. His tongue was tied; he couldn’t make himself hurt Az. 

“Yes. I did.”

Eris never felt so vulnerable in his life. Relief washed over Azriel’s face and by the gods he’d never looked more handsome. One of those hands reached up and cradled up around his cheek and neck. Eris reached up and grabbed that leather wrapped arm like his life depended on it. 

“I told them about the bond.” Az whispered, eyes lined with a sliver of tears waiting to spill over. He didn’t need to elaborate who them were. 

“And?” 

“Mor is angry.” 

There was a hint of sadness in Azriel’s tone. It felt like it squeezed the bond in Eris’s chest. 

“Of course she is, I do not blame her.” And he meant it. 

“Nesta was…” Azriel shifted his gaze. “Concerningly pleased when I told her.” Eris raised a brow. “She all but said it was hot.” 

Eris let out a laugh- the first one since the mother knows when. Azriel snorted which made Eris laugh harder. By the time they caught their breaths, Azriel had his forehead pressed against Eris’s.

“How did we get here?” Eris murmured. More to himself than to Az. 

“Only the Mother knows,” Az replied. 

When he stepped back, Eris damn near whined. He hated how much he wanted to keep Azriel close. Azriel cleared his throat while Eris just studied him. 

“I was supposed to write to you actually. There’s been a development with Koshei.” 

Just like that Eris shoved down his feelings. “Right. Lucien mentioned he took a fae to the Night Court.  I assume you were the one who interrogated him?” 

Azriel seemed tense when he replied. “Yes. Didn’t offer much. Only that he was hired by someone on the continent. We think someone in Rask may be behind it.”

Eris stood from his bed and paced. “Lucien said the message was that someone would come for her soon. I sent some men to their home to stand guard.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should volunteer the other piece of information he had. 

“What are you thinking?” Azriel asked after a moment. 

“It’s nothing.” He replied quickly. 

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” his gaze narrowed and he crossed his arms. 

Eris scoffed. “And how would you know? Have your shadows whisper to you?” 

“Not even five minutes and your defenses are up.” Az shook his head. “I don’t know what I expected from you.” 

“I don’t either. You are the spymaster of another court. Just because we have a bond doesn’t negate that.” Eris could feel the heat rise- from anger or hurt he didn’t know. He did his best to taper it down. 

“And I have already talked to Rhys and Feyre about that.” Azriel shoved at his leathers on his shoulder, pushing them aside to reveal a tattooed rune. “I made a bargain.” 

He scowled, his eyes lingering on the rune. “Why? Did they make you bargain?” 

“I offered.” Azriel dropped his hand, the leather sliding back in place. 

“Have you lost your senses?” Eris hissed. “Why would you offer a bargain if they didn’t make you?”

“If I choose to pursue the bond between us, I will be relieved from my duties as their spymaster.” There was a hurt in his eyes that twisted Eris’ gut more than a knife. 

“In exchange for?” 

“I keep their secrets.” 

“Just secrets?” Eris could feel his temperature and the room’s temperature rise again as his anger flared. “That’s a broad statement, Azriel. Are you really that daft to place yourself in such a dangerous position? Secrets could be a surprise birthday party for the heir. One slip of the tongue and my mate is dead.” 

“Their court secrets, Eris. I’m not an idiot.” Azriel’s wings spread out behind him. “That’s not the point. That isn’t even why I’m here. I just-“ 

He felt the longing in the bond before Azriel shut it out. That instantly cooled his temper. 

“I’ll tell you. But you will not like it.” Eris sighed. “Trust is hard when you spend half a millenia without it. We get through whatever is coming, then we talk seriously about the bond.” 

Az relaxed his wings and nodded.

Eris continued. “Considering you’re here, that means Lucien didn’t tell you he spoke with Vassa about the conditions of her release.” Azriel’s gaze narrowed, shadows coming out to peer at him. “He thinks Mr. Archeron offered something he couldn’t give. Vassa was tight lipped but he seems to think he gave one of his daughters as a bargaining piece.”

“What?” Siphons flashed on Az’s chest and hands. 

“He has no proof. It was a snide remark from the firebird herself that peaked his interest. Something about Archeron’s daughters not being human anymore and it changing things.” 

Azriel balled his fists. “And sure of this?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I wasn’t. Consider this me trusting you.” Eris needed a drink, the headache already returning. “Tell Rhysand to keep an eye on the other sisters. I doubt Feyre is in any danger.”

Az nodded. “Thank you for telling me. Nesta is with Cassian and can handle herself. I’ll ensure Elain is kept an eye on.” 

“Keeping an eye on a seer sounds redundant.” He said, more to himself than Azriel. 

“Funny,” Az rolled his eyes. “I’ll send word if something changes.” 

“I’ll do the same.” 

Az left in a whirl of shadows. Despite them parting on serious terms, Eris felt a sense of ease he hadn’t had since becoming high lord. Azriel wanted the bond too. He wouldn’t admit it to himself but whatever happened with Koshei, that knowledge alone would keep him going. At least he thought it would, until not even hours later a letter landed on his desk from Lucien just as shadows whirled in his study. 

“She’s gone,” Az said frantically as the shadows parted. “Elain is gone.”  

[your-local-hoemie]

ꕥ Genshin Impact ꕥ boyfriend headcanons, Inazuma edition~ part one.

This is a two part one cuz there’s a lot of characters and my brain only lets me write so many in one go >_<

I’m currently in the process of preparing to move in the next few months and hopefully starting a mortician apprenticeship so I’m exciteeddddd

Summary: Just head-canons about the Inazuma hotties :p

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, maybe a tiny bit suggestive, Gn!Reader, established relationship, not proof-read.

Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Thoma.

Heizou~

Oh no. Suddenly I’m a criminal.

I sure hope no hot, flirty, pretty detectives come looking for me >:)

We all know how, um, Suggestive this man is.

He’s absolutely not subtle about his feelings towards you.

Always giving you little compliments followed by a wink.

He somehow manages to know exactly how to turn you into a giggling puddle within the first 20 minutes of hanging out.

Takes you on surprisingly? Very romantic dates!

His favourite is to bring you on a picnic under the Sakura’s or a quiet night with you both wrapped up in a blanket reading crime novels or cases he wants to share with you!

He doesn’t get jealous often.

Man has a EGO.

But on the rare occasion that he does, you can bet your ass that he’s going to be snarky as all fuck.

Not to you of course.

No no-

He’ll probably be overly clingy and flirty with you!

More than usual-

But the offending person will quickly get the idea that they’re on the receiving side of his wrath.

Might outright call them stupid hfkvjfod.

He’s into fishnets.

I’m sorry (I’m not) but he wears them too much for me to not believe this man would break the second he see’s you wearing them~

Also handcuffs ;)

I don’t think he’s the type to be overly protective of you.

Don’t get him wrong, he does worry!

He just know you’re capable of handling yourself in fights!

If you come back hurt, it’ll depend on the severity of how much he’ll worry.

If it’s just a few scrapes a bruises, he’ll likely patch you up while scolding you to be more careful!

“Man alive Y/N? *sigh* my occupation is ‘detective’ you know. Not doctor. Let’s try and keep it that way, hmm?”

But if it’s more serious then prepared to be babied hdhsjd

You won’t be allowed to do anything until he’s satisfied that you’ve recovered!

He’ll bring you the best food he can get his hands on in Inazuma along with cute plushies and will even work from your teapot instead of the office which makes him surprisingly more efficient-

If you ever get insecure about yourself then buckle up-

He’s prepared to give you his entire analysis on how he thinks you’re better than Celestia herself.

My guy has facts, evidence and probably a bulletin board to prove that to you!

He might be a little scared to say the special three words (aka “I love you”) at first but it doesn’t stay that way for long!

All it took was him seeing you, face first in a case file looking all disgruntled and frustrated with your nose scrunched up and his mouth spoke faster than what his brain could think.

He won’t say it all the time but he tells you at least once a day <333

He can’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to him, no matter how stubborn he is!

Kazuha~

I think I’ve made it obvious in my previous posts how pretty I think this boy is.

Like??????? Hello?????

God he would cHERISH YOU!!!

Definitely a little awkward at first but I head-canon that he’s actually really flirty!

He’s just super good at keeping it subtle enough that no one else notices shdufufuejjrifkAAAAAA

When he first started getting feelings for you Beidou referred to him as a literal love sick puppy.

He’s often sit on the end of the Crux (idk what ship parts are called) and write poems and haikus while looking up at the stars and blushing violently while thinking about you.

He definitely didn’t escape the crew’s teasing whenever he’d follow you around and seemed more giggly than usual!

Beidou was actually the one who got kinda tired of watching him run in circles so she set ya’ll up on a date without telling either of you-

Definitely said some cute poem when confessing!

“Like captured water, You hold me in your cupped hands. I flow on your palm.”

Haikus are confusing man wtf.

He definitely isn’t one for being kept in one place but it’s impossible not to notice how much longer he seems to stay around you!

And when feels the time is right for travelling again, he’ll often ask you to accompany him!

He’ll always bring you back a souvenir if you’re too busy to go with him!

Always tells you how it reminds him of you too!

Like he’ll bring back a red/pink sea shell and explain how the colour reminds him of when you blush or laugh so much your cheeks turn red.

He is protective of you but not overly.

He’ll voice his concerns about any dangerous commissions or quests you take on but if you’re insistent then instead of stopping you, he’ll accompany you!

He’s such a sweet, quiet boy so it comes to a big surprise the first time he protects you.

Actually raises his voice and shouts for you to get to safety (like when he shouted for that one dude to stop hiding)

Obviously he apologises after and explains he just wanted you to move so you didn’t get hurt :(

Completely random but I head-canon that he’s close to Yoimiya and every year for your birthday, he’ll bring you to Inazuma and take you to a really beautiful spot then set off fireworks that he planned with her!

And if you don’t like fireworks then he’ll still take you to a beautiful spot with a picnic and just watch the sunset with you~

Thoma~

Pretty boy, good boy.

House wife, even.

He doesn’t believe he deserves you :(

Reassure this boyo.

He fell head over heels from the very first moment!

Every time you talked he’d get so flustered and stutter on every other word hdjjddjd!

Ayaka obviously knew what was going on and you did as well!

The both of you made out a plan on how you would confess to him and when you did-

Oh boy-

He almost started crying ududieifjck

Hugged you so tight for like a solid 3 minutes!

Ever since then, he always picks a flower from the tea house where you both made it official and brings it home to you!!

He’s a good cook so you can bet your lucky ass that you’ll have breakfast in bed on his days off!!

He’d also help fix your clothes if they get ripped during fights!

Ayato would definitely find the situation amusing so don’t be surprised when thoma suddenly gets the day off~

He does get very easily flustered so pda would probably be kept to the minimum unless you want the poor boy melting into a blushing puddle.

He’s not overly protective of you but he does worry himself into a stupor!

Like he won’t stop you going out on commissions but the second he see’s a scratch or a bruise, it’s out with the first aid and a stern lesson on how to patch yourself up!

He’s even made a personal travel first aid bag for you!!

At night when you’re laying in bed, there’s absolutely nothing he loves more than telling you about his day or listen to your stories while you play with his hair!

You’ve both become somewhat unintentionally popular!

Not to mention the people who are just a tiiiiny bit jealous that you’re the lucky one and not them.

Which you totally don’t relish in, just a little~

He can’t help it!!

He just loves talking about you and how happy you make him! Obviously people are gonna talk about how cute y’all are :p

He’s banned you from playing the pot game.

No one really knows how but you managed to give everyone who played it a stomach ache for a solid week.

Boy also insisted on teaching you how to play chess!!

He totally hasn’t let you win a handful of times just because he couldn’t bare to see how sad you looked when you lost

he also just wanted the table to stay in one piece-

This man refuses to go to work or to bed without giving you a good morning or goodnight kiss!

He adores how cute you are when he reminds you that he loves you even if it’s in a simple gesture!!

Ya’ll, I haven’t slept for three days and the hat man is starting to morph into cyno.

Yes I’m totally fine :3

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn

chapter summary: the morning after the storm, Mrs. Perez and Spanish lessons. also, I used lots of Spanish dialogue, but I made sure to translate everything! hope this doesn't bother you :)

Chapter four

The morning light filters through the windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the living room. The storm has passed, leaving a serene, almost magical stillness in its wake. You wake up to the gentle sound of birds chirping, a stark contrast to the thunderous roar of the night before.

You stretch and blink, taking in your surroundings. Sean is still asleep, his arm draped protectively over Daniel, who is curled up between the two of you. The sight brings a warm smile to your face, but there’s also a flicker of uncertainty. You’re in the home of near strangers, even if they’ve been nothing but kind to you.

Carefully, you slip out from under the blanket, trying not to wake the brothers. You tiptoe to the kitchen, deciding to make breakfast as a small gesture of gratitude for their hospitality. You find some eggs, tortillas, and a few vegetables in the fridge, and you set to work making breakfast burritos.

The sizzle of the frying pan and the aroma of cooking food eventually rouse Sean. He stretches, yawning widely, and looks around, momentarily disoriented. When he sees you in the kitchen, a smile spreads across his face.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You turn, spatula in hand, and smile back. “Morning. I figured it was the least I could do after you guys let me crash here. How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled is fine,” Sean replies, getting up and gently nudging Daniel awake. “Hey, bud. Breakfast is almost ready.”

Daniel stirs, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “Morning,” he mumbles sleepily. “Did the storm stop?”

“Yeah, it’s over,” Sean assures him. “Come on, let’s eat.”

The three of you sit around the small kitchen table, enjoying the breakfast you’ve prepared. The atmosphere is light and relaxed, the previous night’s tension a distant memory.

“This is really good,” Sean says between bites. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment mixed with a touch of apprehension. “It’s my pleasure. I’m just glad we all made it through the storm okay.”

After breakfast, you all pitch in to clean up. The power is still out, but the morning sun provides plenty of light. Sean and Daniel take care of the dishes while you tidy up the living room, folding blankets and fluffing the couch cushions.

As you work, you can’t help but feel a bit unsure about your place here. Sean and Daniel are clearly close, their bond palpable. You’re grateful for their kindness, but you’re still an outsider, a stranger who happened to be caught in a storm.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” you ask, looking at Sean.

He glances outside at the clear, blue sky. “First, we need to check the garage and make sure everything’s okay there. Then, we should see if anyone in town needs help. Storms like that can cause a lot of damage.”

Daniel nods enthusiastically. “I can help, too!”

You smile at his eagerness, feeling a bit more at ease. “Sounds like a good plan. Let’s get to it.”

The three of you head to the garage, stepping over puddles and debris left by the storm. The garage itself seems to have held up well, thanks to your combined efforts the night before. There’s some minor water damage, but nothing that can’t be fixed with a bit of work.

Sean inspects the tools and equipment, making a mental note of what needs attention. “We did a good job last night. This could have been a lot worse.”

You nod in agreement. “Definitely. Let’s get started on the repairs. The sooner we’re done here, the sooner we can help the town.”

By mid-morning, the garage is in order, and you all head into town. The streets are muddy, and some buildings show signs of damage, but there’s a sense of community as everyone pitches in to help each other.

One of the stops you make is at the tiny restaurant owned by Mrs. Perez, the sweet elderly woman who you met a couple of days ago. The restaurant has suffered some damage: a few broken windows, a flooded storeroom, and debris scattered around. Mrs. Perez is clearly distressed.

“Sean! Daniel!” Mrs. Perez exclaims when she sees them, relief washing over her face. She switches to rapid Spanish, her words filled with warmth and gratitude. “¡Gracias a Dios! Necesito ayuda con todo este desastre.”

“¡Claro, señora Perez! Estamos aquí para ayudar,” Sean replies with a smile. He turns to you and translates, “She needs help with the mess.”

You nod, rolling up your sleeves. “Let’s get to it.”

The three of you work quickly and efficiently. Sean and Daniel handle the heavy lifting and repairs, while you help Mrs. Perez clean the flooded storeroom and clear debris. She chatters away in Spanish, occasionally pausing to give you a kind smile or a word of encouragement, despite the language barrier.

“¿Cómo puedo ayudar más?”(how can I help more?) you ask, your Spanish still shaky but improving.

Mrs. Perez smiles warmly. “Estás haciendo un buen trabajo. Gracias, mi niña.” (You are doing a good job. Thank you my girl.)

As you scrub the floors and organize the storeroom, you feel a growing sense of connection to this place and its people. Mrs. Perez’s kindness and the easy camaraderie with Sean and Daniel make the hard work feel rewarding.

By the time you’ve finished, the restaurant looks much better. Mrs. Perez is visibly relieved and grateful. “Muchas gracias, mis niños,” she says, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Por favor, quédense a almorzar. Es lo menos que puedo hacer.”

“She wants us to stay for lunch,” Sean translates, smiling. “She insists.”

You smile back, feeling a bit more at home. “I’d love that.”

Mrs. Perez bustles around the kitchen, whipping up a delicious meal. The aroma of fresh tortillas, beans, and sizzling meat fills the air, making your stomach rumble. She sets the table with care, placing a generous spread before you.

“¡A comer!” she says, gesturing for you all to sit.

As you eat, the conversation flows easily. Sean and Daniel talk with Mrs. Perez in Spanish, and she occasionally looks at you, speaking slower and with a kind smile, trying to include you.

“¿Te gusta la comida?” (Do you like the food?)  she asks, her eyes twinkling.

You look at Sean for a translation, but you have a feeling you understand. “Sí, me gusta mucho,” (Yes, I like it a lot.)  you reply, hoping your pronunciation is passable.

Mrs. Perez beams at you. “¡Muy bien! Ahora necesitas aprender más español.”

Sean laughs. “She says you need to learn more Spanish.”

You laugh too, feeling a warm sense of camaraderie. “I’d like that.”

The rest of the meal is filled with light-hearted conversation and laughter. Sean and Daniel teach you a few more phrases, and Mrs. Perez corrects your pronunciation with gentle patience. You start to feel more comfortable, the initial uncertainty giving way to a growing sense of belonging.

After lunch, Mrs. Perez insists on giving you all a bag of freshly made tamales to take home. “Para más tarde,” (This is for later)  she says with a wink.

“Gracias, señora Perez,” you say, your Spanish improving with each interaction.

As you leave the restaurant, the sun is high in the sky, and the town is buzzing with activity as everyone works together to recover from the storm. The sense of community is palpable, and you feel grateful to be a part of it, even if just for a little while.

Back at the Diaz house, you help Sean and Daniel unpack the tamales and clean up from the day’s work. The house feels warmer, and more familiar now. You’re still getting to know Sean and Daniel, but the kindness and hospitality they’ve shown you make you feel hopeful about the future.

“Thanks for sticking around and helping out,” Sean says as you all settle back into the living room. “It means a lot.”

You smile, feeling a deep sense of belonging mixed with lingering uncertainty. “I’m glad I could help. You guys have made me feel like I am part of your family.”

Daniel nods, his eyes bright. “You are part of the family now.”

Sean wraps an arm around his brother, pulling him close. “Yeah, you are. And that means we’re here for you, too.”

The three of you sit together, the events of the past day and night bringing you closer. As the first stars appear in the sky, you know that no matter what storms may come in the future, you’ll face them together. But you also remind yourself to take things one step at a time, allowing trust and friendship to grow naturally, grateful for this newfound bond and the sense of hope it brings.

The following morning, you wake up in your own place, feeling a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. After a quick breakfast, you gather your business plans and head over to the Diaz house, excited to start bringing your ideas to life.

When you arrive, Sean is already in the garage, tinkering with a car engine. He looks up and grins as you approach. "Morning, sunshine. Ready to get down to business?"

"Always," you reply with a playful wink. "Got a lot of ideas to share. Hope you’re ready."

Sean chuckles, wiping his hands on a rag. "Bring it on. Let’s see what you’ve got."

You both settle at a makeshift desk in the garage, spreading out your notes and sketches. As you discuss the expansion plans, Sean’s enthusiasm matches your own. His insights are practical and detailed, complementing your more strategic ideas.

"What if we add a small waiting area for customers?" you suggest. "Someplace they can relax with a coffee while their car gets fixed."

"Good idea," Sean agrees. "And maybe a display for car accessories. Could be a nice upsell."

As you continue brainstorming, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by moments of light-hearted banter.

"So, any chance you’re secretly a car expert, too?" Sean teases, leaning in slightly.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Not quite. But I’m a quick learner. You might just have to teach me a thing or two."

"Consider it a deal," Sean says with a playful glint in his eye.

The hours fly by, and by lunchtime, you’ve made significant progress on the business plans. Just as you’re about to suggest a break, Mrs. Perez arrives, carrying a basket filled with delicious-smelling food.

“¡Hola, mis niños!” she greets, her smile as warm as the sun. “He traído algo para almorzar.” (I brought something for lunch.)

“Hola, señora Perez,” Sean says, his face lighting up. “Perfect timing. We were just about to take a break.”

You help Mrs. Perez set up the lunch spread, the aroma of freshly made tortillas and roasted chicken making your stomach rumble. She chats animatedly in Spanish, occasionally switching to slower, simpler sentences for your benefit.

“¿Cómo va el negocio?”(How is business going?)  she asks, looking at your notes with interest.

“Va bien,” you reply, proud of your progress. “Tenemos muchas ideas nuevas.” (We have many new Ideas)

Mrs. Perez beams at you, clearly pleased. “¡Muy bien! Estoy segura de que tendrán mucho éxito.” (Very good, I am sure you guys will be successful.)

As you eat, the conversation is lively and filled with laughter. Mrs. Perez teaches you a few new Spanish phrases, and her patience and encouragement make the learning process enjoyable.

“Repeat after me,” she says, smiling. “La comida está deliciosa.” (the food is delicious)

“La comida está deliciosa,” you repeat, hoping your pronunciation is correct.

Mrs. Perez claps her hands. “¡Perfecto! Muy bien.”

Sean grins at you. “Not bad. Pretty soon, you’ll be fluent.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, right. But I’m trying.”

After lunch, you return to the garage, where Sean has already started working on a customer’s car. He glances up as you approach, a playful smile on his face.

“Ready to get your hands dirty?” he asks, handing you a pair of gloves.

“Absolutely,” you reply, slipping them on. “Show me what to do, boss.”

Sean raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Boss, huh? I could get used to that.”

You laugh, nudging him lightly. “Don’t let it go to your head. Now, what’s next?”

As the afternoon progresses, you work side by side with Sean, learning the basics of car repair. He’s a patient teacher, and his explanations are clear and easy to follow. You can’t help but admire his skill and dedication, and the way his eyes light up when he talks about his work.

By the end of the day, you’ve made significant progress both on the business plans and in your newfound mechanical skills. You’re sweaty and tired, but there’s a sense of accomplishment that makes it all worthwhile.

“Thanks for today,” you say as you pack up your things. “I had a lot of fun. And I learned a lot, too.”

“Anytime,” Sean replies, his smile warm and genuine. “You’re a quick learner. Maybe we’ll make a mechanic out of you yet.”

You laugh, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect. “I’m looking forward to it.”

The next few days follow a similar pattern. You spend your mornings working on the business plans and helping out in the garage, and your afternoons practicing Spanish with Mrs. Perez. The easy camaraderie with Sean and Daniel continues to grow, and you find yourself looking forward to each day with a sense of anticipation.

One afternoon, after a particularly productive session at the garage, you head over to Mrs. Perez’s restaurant. She greets you with her usual warmth, immediately launching into another Spanish lesson.

“Hoy vamos a aprender sobre los ingredientes de la cocina,” (Today we are going to learn about cooking ingredients.)  she says, pointing to various items in the kitchen. “Repite después de mí: tomate.”

“Tomate,” you repeat, enjoying the rhythmic flow of the words.

Mrs. Perez smiles approvingly. “Muy bien. Ahora, cebolla.” (very good, now onion)

As the lesson continues, you feel more confident in your Spanish skills, the words coming more easily with each repetition. Mrs. Perez’s patient guidance makes all the difference, and you’re grateful for her kindness.

Later, as you help her prepare a batch of tamales, Sean arrives to check on your progress. He leans against the doorframe, watching with a bemused smile.

“Looks like you’re getting the hang of it,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

You grin, feeling a sense of pride. “Yeah, thanks to Mrs. Perez. She’s a great teacher.”

Mrs. Perez chuckles, patting your shoulder. “Eres una buena estudiante. Y Sean, deberías estar orgulloso de ella.” (You are a good student and Sean, you should be proud of her.) 

“I am,” Sean replies, his gaze lingering on you. “Very proud.”

As you finish up in the kitchen, the three of you share a meal, the atmosphere warm and relaxed. The flirty banter between you and Sean becomes more natural, the playful exchanges adding a spark to your interactions.

“So,” Sean says, leaning closer, “how do you say ‘You’re doing a great job’ in Spanish?”

You smile, meeting his gaze. “Estás haciendo un gran trabajo.”

“Estás haciendo un gran trabajo,” Sean repeats, his voice low and sincere. “You really are.”

Your heart skips a beat at the intensity in his eyes. “Thanks, Sean. That means a lot.”

authors note: as always I hope you liked this chapter! I am sorry if any of the Spanish phrases are wrong, I do not speak a word of Spanish :) I hope you like Mrs. Perez as much as I do. Btw Sean and the reader are now getting a little bit more flirty (still sfw tho) just to let you know <3

[wanderingpages]

idk if you do requests outside of jurdan but its been in my head like tattoo artist Rowan and receptionist Aelin? and dating? and like...smut? ahhh thank you bye

∞

Rowan frowns when he sees her, sitting on the step just to the side of his shop. It’s been raining on and off all weekend, only now subsiding to a foggy mist, turning the small town as gray as Rowan’s reluctant to admit he’s been feeling. Aelin is under an awning, so she isn���t quite wet, but the damp strands of her hair is enough to let him know she’s at least ran through a sudden downpour from her car to where she’s currently at. She perks when he approaches, squinting but the pretty gem like hues in her eyes are still breath taking to him. She’s grinning wide and it breaks something in him, something he hates to even acknowledge he’s built up over the past few days. Aelin stands, bouncing from her tip toes as he nears her. Even heightened by the step, he still towers over her. She doesn’t mind tilting her head up, though.

“Hi,” She says.

His lip tilts upward, “Hi,” he responds. She takes a step to the side, and he reaches behind her to open the door. He gestures her first, letting her lead the way up the steps, to his apartment. Her shorts are high waisted, and he’d always tease her about her pairing it with oversized sweaters, much like she’s wearing today, because it made no sense to him - to be only partially warm. He does not point out the goosebumps on her legs, knowing he’d only get a narrowed eye response instead.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” She murmurs, ruffling her hair a bit. “Wasn’t sure if you’d answer, with your appointment today.” As his front receptionist, Aelin is well versed in all the clients booked for months in advance, so he’s not surprised that she knows he had an eight hour session, inking a regular customer of his. She probably also knows he should feel absolutely drained right now -  barely managing to remember to buy food before returning home - but he’s not. Rowan is absolutely zinging with unchecked energy.

It probably started the day she walked into his shop to answer an ad the previous receptionist had posted. Sparked when she’d ask him to pierce her not long after. Maybe it snowballed with her opting to stay behind after hours, using the break room for her class assignments, quietly keeping him company when sessions had flown well into odd hours. It definitely ignited when she’d kissed him goodnight on a whim, running off to her car before he’d even gotten the chance to comment.

It's been kindling when he’d gotten her chocolate during his lunch break one day and then every day after. When she'd left him a note the next day. When he had invited her up for dinner, when he had dropped her off to class the morning after, picked her up some time in the afternoon. When he thought it was cute when she eyed the women who get inked by him, flustered him when he felt jealous over a guy flirting with her.

They hadn’t been shouting it from rooftops. In fact, if Rowan’s honest with himself,  he’d been the one to keeping it under the radar – he’d felt bad enough because of the age gap, but to add the fact he’s her boss as well? Yet, roles applied still didn’t mean Aelin did not have complete control over him, mind body and soul. It took him a while to accept it, but he was all hers.

He just finds himself wondering if she was all his, too.

She reaches up to the ledge above the door, finding the spare key he’d shown her some time ago, and easily opens the door, jiggling the knob just right and giving it a quick kick after turning the key twice. She holds it wide open for him, toeing off her soaked kicks as he enters. He sets the food on the counter, before working on his boots and tugging off his hoodie.

“Were you waiting long?” She leans against the shut door, watching him undress like she hasn’t seen it more than a few times before, still it reddens her cheeks, despite the utter conservativeness of it all. She bites on her lip like she’s waiting for a show and he can’t help the small chuckle he lets out.

She shakes her head, coming back to the moment. “No." She shrugs as if its any consolation for her wait, "I missed you,” she smiles at him, almost shyly. It had been some time since they’d last been able to speak to each other properly. Despite her spending most nights with him, she had requested a few days off of work for finals, and he was at that point of the year where all him and his artists were booked until the end of summer. Still, he’d manage to find a few hours, and eager as he was to finally just be with her, Aelin had turned him down. He’d been too late, apparently, she’d already made plans. He frowns, trying not to think about it, hating the way it makes him feel, if he’s to be honest with himself.

“Missed you too,” he lets her know, heading to the cupboards to grab some plates. He divides the food, half for him and half for her, while she takes a seat at the table, tucking her cold toes beneath her. They talk idly, comfortably, touching when they can – hands, shoulders, knees. They seem to only gravitate closer to each other, stealing from the other’s plate, talking lower to have their heads meet in the middle, leaning closer to steal quick kisses – it’s all very domestic, so then why is Rowan feeling so goddamn feral?

They’ve managed to move to the couch, he’s leaned back watching a game he can’t quite say who’s winning or what sport it even is and Aelin is turned to face him, kneeling beside him, feet tucked like they had been before and she’s touching the ink on the side of his face tracing the patterns to the scruff of his hair. “When are you going to ink me,” she teases.

“When you know what you want.”

She rolls her eyes. “Your roots are growing,” she comments, tugging lightly at the overgrown locks where dark meets silver. He smiles but it's wary. His hand rests on her hips and he squeezes lightly, and without thinking, he leans his head on her, pleased to find that thump of her heart beating roughly against his ears. Aelin lets out a sigh, raking her fingers into his moonlight locks and finally asks, “Is something wrong?”

“Hmm?” he debates on bottling it up, because maybe this is a generational thing and dating means something different to him than it means to her.

“You seem… out of touch with me,” and her voice splinters at the end, going so soft, it almost gets drowned out by the insistent pumping of her heart in his ears.

He holds her tighter, and finally admits, “I… I walked by the bar after work that day.” Maybe she hadn’t meant to purposely leave out exactly whom she was planning to meet up with, but the guilt ridden look on her face tells him that she’d thought nothing good would come from Rowan knowing this information. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about your date?” he tries to smile but it feels all wrong – he had tried to be teasing, but he’s hurt – angry even. “Or did you think I wouldn’t have trusted you?”

“We were just talking,” she tells him, “It wasn’t anything serious.” Rowan holds his tongue, figuring maybe if he’d been more public with their relationship instead of sneaking in kisses during the day when no one’s watching, treating dates as secrets, and avoiding answering questions by their peers, maybe he wouldn’t feel as shitty as he does now. “I should have told you – but I didn’t think it meant anything – it still doesn’t mean anything.”

He tilts his head to look up at her, holds her steady and reaches with his free hand to touch the ends of her hair, twisting sunlight around his finger almost absently. “This is new – everything with you is new,” he confesses. He doesn’t want to be that guy – the one who’s insecure about his girl hanging with other guys, doesn’t want to second guess when she says she’s made plans. He traces down her arm, grabbing the tips of her fingers and leading them to his lips, kissing them lightly. “I trust you,” he lets her know, “So please,” he begs, watching the flush in cheeks, the tug of her bottom lip between her teeth, “Don’t make a fool out of me, Aelin.”

“I promise,” she says, not even a beat later and just the same, he’s tugging her on top of his lap. The television casts an array of colors like an aura behind her – godly, he thinks. She bends forward, her hair curtaining them, encasing them with a familiar scent. “Maybe I should have let you known,” Aelin says quietly, “That when I'm with you, I'm with you. No one else.” Rowan’s hand glides just under her sweater, fingers splaying where he knows birthmarks hide. His other hand weaves gently into her hair, pushing strands back, behind her ear, palm pressing to her cheek, holding her face steady when he shortens the distance and kisses her so softly. Her toes curl, knees on either side of him squeezing his thighs. He brings her closer to him, so close the fabric of their clothes begin to imprint and indent against their skin. “I’m sorry,” Aelin murmurs against his lips.

She’s rough when she’s kissing him again, desperate, like she needs to show him she means it and this is the only way she can think of. And when Rowan bites at her lips, he knows she doesn’t mind because her hands are at the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper against her, then she guides his lips down her neck when she can’t seem to get air in her lungs. His teeth scrapes against her flesh, her nails against his. He breaks only to get her sweater off, digits immediately at her navel, fingerprints covering the golden charm he had so carefully pierced into her skin. He mouths at her breasts, pulling her bra down enough to latch on to a nipple. She calls out his name in surprise, hips grinding hard against his. His tongue flicks roughly against the nipple before it flattens over her, soothing the ache while Aelin rubs her hips against his, frantic for more friction.

He should slow down, he thinks, biting at the swell of her breasts, blooming pink and reddening marks wherever he can. He’s never been this rough with her before, never thought of his markings as punishment - but she’s guiding his hand to her the buttons of her shorts, fumbling to get them undone, “Rowan… - I, ahh,” she doesn’t mind. More, she wants to say, but she doesn’t have to, his fingers are right where she wants them, working fast and expertise, having her panting and quivering and he’s not even in her yet, just rubbing her between her folds, soft then faster, and when he presses down on her clit, she’s screaming into his shoulder, trying to muffle her cries when she comes.

She’s still breathing rough when he has her on her back, her bra behind the couch, her shorts and underwear right at his feet. His shirt came off, but his jeans are just barely undone, settling below his hips, because he’s feeling so fucking frantic. “Wait – ah,” she throws an arm over her eyes, trying to settle the stars swimming in her vision, “need to breathe,” she tells him, though she lets him spread her legs wide and position himself right between her. Her stomach tenses on the contact alone. Her chest heaves up and down, she’s coming down but not quite there yet. Her body jolts and she twitches involuntarily, knees shaking when the tip of his cock slides right between her folds.

He likes her like this – he likes her in a lot of different ways, but especially this. Her hand flies to his bicep and he has a full view of how her face contorts, how her eyes screw shut so tight that her nose scrunches up. “Look at me, princess,” he murmurs, “let me see those pretty eyes,” she opens her eyes, a wave of colors akin to the sun meeting the ocean, and her lips part as he slides his cock up and down, pressing the tip to her clit. His breath is hot in her ears, “You can catch your breath later,” is all the warning he gives her when he pushes into her.

She cries out, fingernails digging into his arms, eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Ah!” she’s not yet fully back from her first orgasm, but it already feels like an onslaught of much more hitting her in succession, too quickly, too soon. One of Rowan's hand is holding a thigh in place, at angle just right, hitting her fucking womb with every thrust. His other hand is placed against her stomach, and she feels like she’s going to explode – at a loss for words, at a loss for all her senses, Aelin really only knows his name. “Ro – ah… ah! Ro...wan…” She manages to move her hands to his face, pulling him closer, heads touching when she gets lost in his eyes. Tears prick, and her breath catches. Her chest feels so tight but she just wants him to consume her. “Ah…” she manages just hoarse little noises, overwhelmed he’s fully inside of her, and he begins to just rotate his hips enough that his pelvis rubs against her swollen clit.  “Want… it…” she gets out, gibberish in her slurs, “Want you…”

Rowan moves out of her slowly, “You’re so good,” he murmurs, thumb moving to press her clit. She weeps, drawing blood when her nails scrape down the back of his neck. He feels himself sliding in and out of her, the palm of his hand practically caving into her abdomen. He’s fucking her so deep and so hard, he feels like he’s absolutely losing himself in her. “You look… so beautiful,” Rowan whispers, maybe for the first time with the way her eyes flash in surprise. “Look how well you take me,” he murmurs, in place of the awful possessive shit he really wants to say. "So good..." He’ll hold his tongue from saying, “this is mine – you’re all mine.” He makes sure to embed it into her skin instead, makes sure Aelin still feels him when this all over, makes sure he leaves his marks on her like lewd little tattoos.

[exo-raskreia]

hey again, thanks for replying to my previous ask! I have another ask, if you think AiTani (Aizen x Tanisha) have parallels with Ulquihime (Ulquiorra x Orihime?) What do you think are the similarities between the ships?

So in the TCACLOM (the captive and captor's liberation) fan made novel (it's a continuation of post-canon CFYOW events) there is this character named Tanisha Chōdhori, she is appointed the warden of muken and all, she's this stoic and almost nearly emotionless character and then she meets Aizen who she's guarding in Muken obviously and while she guards him, Aizen makes her so infuriated with his words about her true desires and how she desires a path free from soul society that she started feeling emotion in a long time, and she realized that she could openly explore these new emotions if she has Aizen with her so she breaks him out of muken for his companionship while he gets liberation and freedom from imprisonment. For context: Soul Society forced Tanisha as a young girl into this emotionally detached mindset that if she acts the way they want, she'll be a respected member of the Gotei 13 and if she acts in any other way, she'd be criticized for not meeting the standards of how a professional shinigami should be. (The soul society has a bias against Tanisha because of her grandfather named Saphir who ruled the chōdhori clan as the 20th head. The chōdhori clan was a minor clan ruled by the Shiba which was their parent family, so they're basically related ig. The 20th head of the chōdhori clan had attempted to assassinate Kaien Shiba (Before Kaien's Actual Death) to take over the branch of the Shiba clan that Kaien ruled, and by ruling this branch, he could sabotage the other branches of the Shiba Clan but was caught by Ukitake and executed while the rest of the chōdhori clan was exiled to the poorest district of rukongai to repent in place of the 20th head's crime. Tanisha's father named Raiten had obviously escaped Soul Society to the Human World with another elderly chōdhori who was also a Vice Kidō Chief that managed to open the Senkaimon for him, and that's how Raiten started a new life and eventually had Tanisha.) Tanisha has been severely misunderstood for her family's reputation and this damaged the image the other shinigami would have of her, so they became more expectant of her to follow their standards so she can at least fit in with the crowd. Tanisha only developed a strong bond and relationship with Aizen when she became his warden as he challenged her rigid belief that she had no capacity for any other desire besides serving soul society, basically Aizen helped her see a new world and that is why she liberated him from Muken. Tanisha broke Aizen out of Muken if he'd marry her in exchange for liberation, because he's the only one to show her a new world and a new trajectory that no one else has shown her before, and she would explore that path with Aizen).

Oh btw, u got great taste in ships. I love Ichiruki.

I don't have any interest in the Bleach novels (retcons & more nonsense) but this fan novel doesn't sound too bad. Based on what you said, it does sound like this AiTani ship has some similarities with UlquiHime. The girl sounds similar to Ulquiorra in the stoicism & stuff, & both became curious & intrigued by their captive. Aizen was being a manipulator but Ori was just showing her heart to Ulquiorra. I'm surprised Tanisha asked for marriage but I guess Aizen will do whatever it takes to get free, lol. Idk if the novel implies if he will develop any feelings for Tanisha, but I think that Ulquiorra would have definitely developed them for Ori had he lived (or maybe he kind of did?).

Anyway, so yeah, I can see some parallels there. Maybe the writer is an UH fan? Lol.

And oh, lol, thanks. IchiRuki FTW fr. Kubo fumbled big time. None of my main Bleach ships are canon (formerly established canon ships like ByaHisa don't count, for example 🤷‍♀️), and yet are still better than the endgame ones 🤣.

[like-icarus-burns]

Cirelka Chronicles (Original)

i’ve made it my goal in 2025 to write a novel, and i figured that i could maybe post about it here whenever i get the mood, maybe document my progress. you can thank @steadfastsaturnsrings for me posting this bc i wasn’t going to, but they convinced me to. every post i’ll do a previous word count vs current word count. idk how frequently i’ll post, but with any luck, it’ll be consistent. lmao. fingers crossed.

my goal for 2025 is to write at least 250 words per day, or spend 1 hr working on plot/world building/character development/etc per day. on good days, hopefully both!

this scene is between the main character, Cedar Atinson and his childhood best friend, Blythe Griffin, and it takes place in the very beginning :) the word count is NOT how many words i’ve posted. this snippet is probably 300-500 words

prev wc: 0

current wc: 1,441

“Is that Cedar I see?”

Cedar turns towards the voice, a smile brightening his features considerably. “Blythe,” he breathes, rushing the last few paces separating them.

“And to what does the Upper owe the pleasure?” Blythe asks, as though he has no idea that tonight will determine the rest of Cedar’s life. Cedar knows that isn’t the point of the question. They catch eyes for a moment, brown meeting blue.

“I’m on my way to Verda to get Crossroads markings,” Cedar answers, gesturing towards where the older witch lives, although she was still a good ten minute walk from where the two stood. “I’m looking forward to finding balance again.” he answers the other question belatedly, sliding his gaze away from the intense blue of Blythe’s eyes.

Blythe nods, eyes tracking him carefully. Cedar worries for a moment that the other boy will press the issue, but thankfully he lets it rest. “Hm, yes, I remember that feeling all to well. It’ll pass,” he reassures with a warm smile. Cedar smiles at him in return, just as the sun bursts through the clouds.

Blythe reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small brown package, holding it out to Cedar to take. Without hesitating, Cedar grabs it and tears into it. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Blythe,” he says out of obligation, secretly preening at the prospect.

“I knew your parents wouldn’t, and I wanted to make sure you got something. In case Ramsey couldn’t get you a gift,” Blythe rambles, “and I saw this in the market and knew you’d need it.”

Once the paper is completely torn away, Cedar opens the box and blinks in surprise at the sight of what appeared to be a garnet pendant. He carefully lifts it out of the box and stares in awe at it.

“It’s for protection,” Blythe says, grabbing it from Cedar to lift it over his head. “No matter which way the Crossroads take you, you’ll be protected, at least some.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, flushing as Blythe steps close enough to put the corded pendant around Cedar’s neck for him. He holds his breath, staring up at the slightly taller boy, who’s pointedly not looking Cedar in the eyes. This close he can see the spattering of freckles across Blythe’s face, although they almost blend in as the blond’s cheeks turn pink.

“You’re welcome,” Blythe says, finally letting their eyes meet for a moment before he steps back. Cedar can’t remember the last time the two of them were that close. They used to be inseperable, never able to see one without the other. Never touching, that wasn’t allowed, but orbiting each other like the moons that danced through their skies. Once Blythe completed the Crossroads Dance it was like a switch flipped, he was always being called away from their time together for one reason or another, until he just stopped showing up.

Cedar wonders if Blythe’s bag is still packed away under his bed.

“I better be off,” Blythe says, and Cedar feels his face fall before he can do anything to hide it.

He quickly bows his head, putting his right fist over his heart. “I’m sure you must,” he says, the words feeling like cotton in his mouth. Before Blythe can do anything, Cedar turns and starts walking down the street away from the other boy.

It feels like good bye, but he hopes it isn’t.

let me know what you think! things are still a bit vague bc there’s not really context, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe i’ll post more about this if there’s interest.

umm i know that @sunflower-eddiediaz said to tag them in everything (i think, lmk),,, idk if anyone else would want, lmk!

their shipname is Cethe btw. i know fandoms usually come up w it, but i enjoy Cethe like ‘seeth’.