#My brother tries. I see that he tries I see how hard he tries.

[youryanderedaddy]

Oleander

Summary: Nine months ago you killed a man. Now you're sharing a drink with his brother. Life works in mysterious ways. tw: female reader, implied murder, captivity, dub - con, hate fucking, degradation, cruel reader

Sometimes you wonder if you’re a good person. It’s nice, almost, to lose yourself in meaningless philosophical battles in your own mind - it reminds you of high school, of balding teachers making you read Kant and Plato, raving on and on about dead men that will never come back to agree or disagree with the countless pages they made you write about them. It’s easier now, though - easy to lose yourself in semantics, to water down hundred years of morals and ethics into a simple question. Am I, the way I am, the way I’ve always been, good? 

These thoughts always come back when the liquor hits your system. You can’t believe Devan let you drink with him tonight. He must be getting lonely, you realize. Your hands are too shaky and slippery to hold the glass, and you end up spilling half of it over your chest anyways. Your shirt soaks the liquor quickly, and the sharp smell of sanitizer makes you feel as if you’re running through a cold hospital corridor. If you squint, you can almost imagine the needle poking at your vein to draw fresh blood. 

Devan watches you with odd fascination - as if you’re a child learning how to walk, and takes a sip straight off the bottle. Were you any less drunk, you’d be disgusted, yet now all you think about is how he’s drinking more and more of the bitter medicine, leaving less for you. And you need it. God knows you need it.

“Messy, murderous slut.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching out to you with a disoriented shake of his hand. “You ruined my fucking life, you know?” He manages to take a hold of your elbow. You flinch impulsively but his hold, in all its drunken angst, is unrelenting.

“You ruined your own life.” You intend your answer to be playful, but it comes out venomous. Maybe you both need some sleep - too bad the bottle is still half full. You pour yourself some more. “You’re 27 with no education, job or any support network. Even your parents don’t call you anymore, because, well… what even are you without him?” You let yourself get closer to the man - so close you can see his eyes illuminate in fear. His skin is warm like concrete melting under the sun. Tonight you are cruel. Tonight you are free - even as the tears fall down your freezing cheeks. “Admit it.” You inhale so quietly you barely feel your lungs. “You fucking love it.”

Even as his hand connects to your cheek in an audible slap, you can’t help running your mouth off. You are absolutely intoxicated - and the sting feels like a kiss to your lonely, untouched face. How long has it been since someone held you?

“You fucking love that your brother died, deep down. I mean, it’s the perfect excuse, isn’t it? You finally have a reason to be this fucking miserable.” Your smirk, filling up with glee - just like a child torturing a helpless ladybug on the ground, it’s so wrong yet feels so right. ”Besides being a lousy loser, of course.”

“How fucking dare you!” Devin flips you over with ease, throwing you on the ground. There is a raw, animalistic sadness in his big black orbs bleeding into his rage, and it makes it impossible to be scared. Even as his thick fist wraps itself around your throat, it’s hard not to burst into laughter. All the good hazy feelings take over logic and now the bleak feels like a big joke of nature. “Joe was… He… He was…” Everything, he tries to say, but his voice breaks into a pained howl and his breathing shallows before the word can roll off his colorless tongue. For a passing moment everything stills.

“It’s all your fault.” Your captor hisses weakly, his hand trembling around your warm inviting flesh. “I should have killed you that first day… that first night.” His fingers dance around your throat, carefully avoiding your jugular. “It would have been so easy. You do have a beautiful neck.” His voice lowers. “It wouldn’t be hard to–” He squeezes again - tight, tighter, and you see stars. “Maybe then I’ll finally be at peace.” He’s staring at you, intently, but it’s himself he’s talking to. 

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes. You can feel a certain fullness in your sides and a dull pain tugging at your collarbone from suffocation - but your mind can’t wrap itself around a single coherent thought other than to hurt him. It’s like the more you hurt him, the more it hurts inside you. “You can’t kill me.” There is no sass in your tone, no mischief - just plain cold acceptance.

Devin stops in his tracks to stare you down as if you’ve lost your goddamn mind. Then he laughs. He laughs so much his hand slips off your throat and you can finally breathe again.

“And what makes you so sure?” He finally collects himself enough to ask, leaning towards you. If anyone were to see you now, they would think you’re two lovers about to elope. “Because…” You avert your face away from his watchful eyes - there’s something about them, a wild flame that makes you sober up quicker than you’d like. “I’m the only person you hate more than yourself. If you kill me, the game is over.” You give him a sad smile. “And you’re all alone again.”

The man grabs your chin, forcing your lips to pucker up like a doll’s. “Like I need a fucked up bitch to keep me company.” He says, yet he keeps moving your head up and down as if he’s inspecting you for damage. As if he cares if you’re bruised, as if his fingers want to feel you for just a second longer. “Then let me go.” You bite back, and you watch his face go dark like a night sky. “No.” The boy - man shrieks, holding onto your arm for dear life. It hurts… but it’s also warm and tight - like an embrace, but not quite. “You deserve to suffer.” He quickly adds, pulling you closer to him. “Then torture me.” You add more fuel. “Do something. Anything.” You sink your teeth into his knees. “For once in your shitty miserable life do so–”

He kisses you. 

You don’t know how to describe the kiss. It’s neither passionate, nor aggressive. It’s desperate, yet it lacks strength. It’s a rushed thing. It’s a memory reminiscent of summer - in a quiet village, after an atom bomb. His lips are the flowers that eventually bloom before they’re stomped by soldier boots. You’re the half - lit match that turns it all to ashes. Your bodies are meant for destruction, and that’s why they fit together perfectly. 

“Let me have you.” He almost pleads once you separate, breathless, on the brink of insanity - as if he isn’t already there. His hands are on both sides of your waist, squeezing so hard it hurts, unstable fingers ready to grab and grope at any shape malleable enough. 

“No.” You wince, but your eyes remain cold and challenging. “Fuck you.” Devin replies, roughly spreading your thighs apart. “Fuck you.” He repeats as he rips into your throat, dragging his teeth against your sweet spot, making you really feel the sharp points tearing into your soft vulnerable skin. The thought of leaving his mark on you makes his stomach turn - and it terrifies him. You try not to look down, but you hear his belt hit the ground and soon his pants follow suit - and then you sense it right against your entrance. Sticky slick whiteness coats your white panties as it drips from the purpling tip so full it might burst by the friction alone.

His hard length rubs along your wet slit and with clenched teeth you anticipate the burn of the stretch, the way he’ll rip your underwear from you, your last protective shield - but it never comes. Yet you see it move in and out, in and out of you rhythmically. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, his rasp groans into your ear, his hands moving your torso back and forth like a carousel. You finally look down. 

He’s fucking your thighs - through your panties, no less. 

“Hold your legs together.” The man barks at you, but his voice is so needy you can’t help giggling even as he manhandles you around like a ragdoll. “T-tighter.” You squeeze your thighs snuggly against his cock - and you hope it hurts him more than it hurts you. You throw your head back, leaning on his shoulder as you jeer gutturally, letting it all out in systematic bursts of laughter that sound more like black cigarette coughs. Or puffs. “God, you’re so pathetic.” You lazily stroke his shaft as it peeks down your stomach, oozing with pre - cum. “I bet your brother would have fucked me like a real man.”

He moves your head to the side with a brute slap, kissing you sloppily anywhere but your mouth - but it still does the trick of shutting you up. “Too bad he’s dead.” He leaves a trail of wet pecks down your throat. Your stomach is sticky. You feel disgusting. “Guess you’re mine now.”

You roll your eyes.

“Dream on.”

[pinkponyclubbb3]

Don’t make a sound

summary: y/n teases chris while he’s playing fortnite with his brothers, but now it’s y/n turn to play and chris’s turn to play with her.

check my bio to see how u can be tagged in the next fic and yes i’m writing the sub matt fic.

It’s been 20 minutes, and Chris, Nick, and Matt are still playing Fortnite. I’ve been waiting for my turn for a while. I annoyingly pop my gum as I patiently wait for them to be done. Everyone is in their own room and i’m in Chris’s. I get up to look through his closet to change into something more comfortable. I find a black fresh love hoodie and decide to throw that on. “Are you almost done? I want to play” I ask chris to get his attention. He quickly turns to me trying not to lose focus on the game.

I take off my pants leaving me in my black lace panties and my tight shirt. “Yeah we’re almost- what are you doing?” I take my shirt off leaving my chest completely bare. “Changing.” I say in a duh tone. He turns to look at me change into one of his hoodies when we both hear matt screaming into his headset. “Chris what are you doing pay attention!!” He turns his attention back to the PC trying to focus on the game again. “Come here I have a shield keg” When I finish changing I pull up a chair next to him and sit down.

He gives me a quick look and smirks. “It’s almost your turn, baby. Just sit still for a sec.” I nod, not comprehending what he’s saying cause all I’m looking at are his hands on the controller. The way his thumb is moving around the joystick. while his other fingers are clicking the buttons. I feel my self getting wet by watching him play. I move my chair and get on my knees so I can crawl under his desk. “Wh-” he tries to say something but I put my finger to my lips letting him know not to say anything. I start unbuttoning his jeans and lowering his zipper.

He tries to swat my hand away but I don’t budge. I pull out his hard cock and see his tip is already coated with his pre-cum. “Whore.” I say in a whisper. He takes his hand away from the controller to cover his mic. “Watch yourself.” I laugh and bite on my lip. I wrap my hand around his throbbing cock and give him a few strokes. I look up at him and see his chest rising up and down. I smirk at the effect I have on him. With my other hand I reach down to my panties and feel how wet I am. I press down on my clit trying to relieve some tension. 

I take my hand out of my panties. I use that hand to stroke him. “You feel that? That’s how wet I am just looking at you, Chris.” He opens his mouth to say something, but I wrap my lips around his tip before he gets the chance. A moan leaves his mouth immediately. I laugh at him, knowing Matt and Nick have heard that. He coughs, trying to play it off. He takes his hand and grips my hair, pushing me down further. I gag as I feel his tip in the back of my throat. “Chris, what are you doing? You’re letting these guys piss on you.”

“Sorry I got distracted.” He looks down at me and I see the lust in his eyes. I bob my head up and down his shaft I sit on his shoes and start grinding my clit against it. I roll my eyes back finally being able to relive the tension that’s been built. My knees on each side of his foot while I start humping his shoe. “Fuck!” I hear nick say through the mic. I stop sucking him off and look up at him with my swollen lips. He smirks and says “Your turn y/n”

He helps me out from under his desk and to his gaming chair. I smile at him but his expression is hardened. He puts his headset on me and sits down. I ready up in the lobby and wait for the game to start. “Ready for this win, boys. We have a chance now that you’re not playing with Chris.” I hear them laugh, and the game starts up. “Let’s land here.” I use the cursor to pin point the location. We jump off the bus and I immediately start looking for a gun.

I feel my chair being pushed back and now chris is taking my old position on his knees. He spreads my legs and licks his lips. “Matt some guys South 4- fuck!” Chris’s hands are gripped on my thighs and his tongue is going up and down my clit. “What happened?” I close my thighs around Chris’s face but he pulls them apart. “I got shot at” I make up an excuse fast. I start heading towards the players that were ‘shooting’ I bite my lip trying not to let a moan escape my lips and try to concentrate on the screen. “Nick they’re on the building to your right.” I say in between breaths. Chris looks up at me to see im covering my mic. He takes his mouth off me and shakes his head. “Let go of that mic, baby or i’ll stop.” I whine and slowly let go of it.

he goes back to eating me out, his tongue working fast and hard against my clit, making sure to hit that sweet spot just right. he looks up at me occasionally, making sure i’m still focusing on the game and not making any noise that might give away what he's doing. “Matt cover me.” I need a small break. I put the control down and grab onto Chris’s hair. He grips my thighs tightly with his hands, keeping them still so I can't buck against his face. He increases the pressure with his tongue, feeling me get closer and closer to the edge. “Thanks matt, come on we’re almost finished.” Hoping chris will get what I’m trying to tell him.

He catches on fast getting up on his feet. He sits down on the chair and motions me to sit on top of him. I straddle his lap, feeling his hard bulge beneath his pants. He turns the chair so i’m facing the screen. He then wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. His hands slowly roam up and down my sides, making me squirm.

He take his hard member out his pants and makes me sit on it. I gasp softly and my eyes roll to the back of my head. He covers the mic. “Don’t make a sound” I nod as he starts moving his hips slowly making me take all of him. My eyebrows furrow in pleasure. The boys start noticing i’m playing differently

He starts to move his hips faster, slamming into me harder with each thrust. I can feel the intense pleasure building inside me. The boys start whispering to each other, wondering what's going on. "Y/n you’re ass at the game .” I let out a laugh and apologize “I’m distracted” It’s down to the final 6 players meaning there’s three guys left. “Lock in guys!” Nick screams into the mic.

His pace quickens, slamming into me with deep, powerful thrusts. He grins against my shoulder, knowing that i’m trying to focus on the game but he’s not making it easy. “Knocked one!” Matt says into the mic. I aim at one of the players and start shooting. I bite my lip it’s taking everything in me to not make a sound. “Fuck!” I moan but cover it up with a quick cough. “Come on guys we’re almost there” I manage to say.

“Knocked one! Nick get the last one!” I say and throw the control and focus my attention to chris. He lets out a low groan as I start to move my hips, taking him even deeper. His hand slides down to my thigh, his fingers digging into my skin as he helps me bounce up and down on his lap. "That's it, baby... fuck me... make yourself come..."

“Got him!” Nick yells and we see the victory royal on the screen. Everyone starts screaming in joy. “Fuck yes!” I throw my head back feeling my orgasm take over me. He lets out a low groan as his release coming in time with mine. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, muffling his own moans as he fills me with his seed. "Oh god, y/n..." Our pace starts to slow down as we ride out our orgasm.

“Uh guys? what are you doing?”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

A/N : here’s something quick while yall wait on the other fic💋 hope you liked it make sure to check my pinned post!!!!!!

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[liahaslosthermind]

~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~

(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal

Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort

His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.

He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.

"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.

It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.

Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.

It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.

A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.

Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.

"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."

"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.

"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.

The spymaster didn't answer.

"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"

He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.

His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.

Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.

How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.

"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.

"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.

Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.

The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."

In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.

These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.

Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.

Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.

He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.

Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.

After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.

He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.

He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.

Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.

The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.

The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.

Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.

It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.

But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.

6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.

This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.

Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.

Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.

On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.

Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?

Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.

The Walking Dead

A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?

The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.

It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.

The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.

A spell.

He almost dropped the book at the realization.

No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.

He knew what he needed to do.

[deancasbigbang]

Title: I'm Not Living Here Without You

Author: Avonlady

Artist: TwinOne

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel; Meg Masters/Bela Talbot; mentioned Gabriel/Kali; past Charlie Bradbury/Dorothy; implied Charlie Bradbury/Jo Harvelle

Length: 26229

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; Cancer Diagnosis

Tags: Dean/Cas Established Relationship; Castiel has cancer; Angst; fluff; explicit sexual content; Dean Winchester wears panties; Dean Winchester is in denial; minor character death; grieving; eventual happy ending (Castiel lives)

Posting Date: November 5, 2024

Summary: Castiel promised Dean that they would be together forever. They met when they were just kids and they were each other’s first everything. They are happy and have an unbreakable bond that makes them the envy of everyone around them. Everything changes 15 years into their marriage when Castiel is diagnosed with cancer and the doctors aren’t very hopeful that the treatments will work. Dean is crushed and spends a lot of time in denial while trying to find a cure for his husband. Castiel knows that his dying will destroy Dean, so he fights as hard as he can to stay alive for his husband’s sake.

Excerpt: “Cas, have you seen my green tie?” Dean yells towards the living room from their bedroom. “I think it’s in the closet.” His husband’s voice yells back at him.  Dean keeps searching, but he isn’t having any luck finding it. Tonight is their 15-year-wedding-anniversary dinner and he wants it to be special. Dean knows how much Castiel likes his green tie because it brings out his eye color, so he needs to find it, no matter how long it takes. He hears someone clear their throat and he turns around to see Castiel holding his tie, a snarky grin plastered on his face. Dean reaches for it, and begins tying it as he speaks. “Thanks, babe. Where did you find it?” “It was right where you left it last, on the bed in the guest room.” “Why the hell did I leave it there?” “I don’t know. I’m not sure it would be safe for anyone to try to figure out what goes on in that gorgeous head of yours.” Dean grabs Castiel by the back of the neck and pulls him closer, kissing him on the lips. “Do you think we have time to fool around a little before we go?” Dean says with a waggle of his eyebrows.  “We do not have time, Dean. The reservation is in an hour. We can always fool around when we get home.” Castiel gives him a swat on the ass. “Now, finish getting ready. I’m hungry.” Castiel leaves the room and Dean watches him as he walks away. He will never take for granted how lucky he is to have been able to marry his childhood sweetheart. Castiel makes him so happy and he knows he would be lost without him. That’s why he tries to show him everyday how much he loves him.  They met in 1st grade, two years after Dean’s mom, Mary, died of cancer and his father’s soul died right along with her. Dean didn’t talk for two years, but the moment he saw Castiel and glanced into those blue eyes that gave Dean hope that good things still existed, he finally found his voice again. Dean didn’t like to talk much about Mary and John became a living ghost once she was gone, so Dean and Sam were raised by John’s brother, Bobby. Dean hasn’t seen John in 15 years. They have been distant ever since John made a scene at Dean and Castiel’s wedding spouting hatred about how Mary would be rolling over in her grave if she knew her eldest son was marrying a man. Castiel broke his nose and told him if he ever came near Dean again, he would do worse. That moment just cemented the fact that he was going to be with Castiel forever.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[raayllum]

a/n: sometimes i don't realize how much my autism has affected my life / relationships and then it slams into me. a ficlet

It's been an hour since the spat at negotiations, for lack of a better term—Opeli still winces when she thinks of the sharpness in the young prince's voice, straightening out his Evenere green robes with a finicky flourish—and Ezran had requested to be alone for the break.

Opeli had obliged him, not pleased he'd wanted distance from even Soren and Corvus when they had visiting nobles and servants over, but so long as they stood guard at wherever he'd gone, she couldn't really find it in her to object. Being king could be overwhelming even if you weren't eleven years old.

It's nearing the time negotiations will re-commence, though, and... she can't find him.

He's not in the kitchens, or one of the smaller dining halls he likes to use with Soren and Corvus. He's not with Callum, who went to the courtyard to sketch, a worried crease in his brow (he'd checked on his brother—you alright, Ez?—talked down the prince, but Ez had shooed him off).

Opeli is beginning to despair that maybe he's run off into one of the remaining secret passageways, or even gotten stuck somewhere, when she spots Soren and Corvus standing in front of the library doors. Corvus seems as troubled as Callum, Soren catching her eye and arm when she moves to go inside.

"I think he's having a rough time," Soren says softly. "You might wanna..."

"I don't know if we can delay the next meeting any further," Opeli says apologetically. He releases her, nodding but unhappy about it, and she pushes open the door.

It takes a few moments, peering through the tall aisles of shelves and one or two alcoves, but eventually she finds the young boy king in one of the armchairs tucked away in a corner, a book open in his lap. And in truth, Opeli hears him before she sees him, because Ezran is... crying.

Big fat tears rolling down his cheeks in ways she hasn't seen since they completed King Harrow's memorial statue based off Prince Callum's sketches, or since those early, overwhelming weeks of being king once the Moonshadow elf had left... Bait's not in his lap either, pawing at his thigh but otherwise ignored, which isn't like Ezran either; so much so, Opeli stops right in her tracks.

"I'm, er—" She starts, then stops. He's clearly not okay so there's no point in asking. She eases onto her knees instead beside his armchair, unsure of how to proceed until she knows what's distressing him. It's not far from the anniversary of the attack, so maybe...? "I'm afraid the meeting is going to resume, soon, King Ezran."

He sniffles, looking briefly at her and then just starting at the floor, his eyes hardening. He doesn't move. He doesn't even wipe away his tears.

She purses her lips. "Ezran?"

Finally he looks at her, his face contorting—livid like she's never seen. "I don't know how to do this, Opeli."

"King Ezr—"

"Prince Erik asked for more information, so I gave it, and then he snapped at me and—I just don't understand!" Ezran cries, tiny fingers curling into fists. His eyes go wide with frustration, searching for something he can't find. "I don't get it. We've always had these trade deals and they worked fine, and this new one is the exact same, but now the policy's a problem? And when I pointed out it's just like the old ones, he said it just feels like Evenere needs something different even though those things are there for a reason—and no one cares about the reason but me!"

Opeli reaches for his arm. "Ezran—"

He stands, pacing. "And then when I explain those reasons, it's like... I knew as a kid the other kids didn't like me because I talked too much, and I was boring about wanting to talk about bugs or animals, or—so I just... I tried so hard to use less words and always say what I mean, but people still didn't get it, or like it." He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears leaking out underneath. "And it's the same damn thing in court, I don't—at the last Summit, Prince Erik didn't mind how much I talked because we were agreeing on policy, but now that we disagree I-I can't, for some reason? I'm just trying to explain, but he thinks I'm being condescending, but I don't think I'm smarter than him, I don't, I try so hard to say things right and I just don't know how —"

"Ezran." She takes him by the shoulders and he looks up at her, red-eyed with a runny nose. She takes a deep breath for her own measure, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. "The prince, as many do, have an ego. You are doing your—"

"Well yeah, some people are jerks like him. But most people aren't, and I still can't... Why can't people just know you value them? Why do I have to remember to spell it out every time? Why do I have to read their mind and know what they need without them telling me? If I'm listening it's because I think we can reach common ground... Because the respect is already there. And I try so hard to explain so we can just reach common ground, but people just—they don't see that. And I don't know how to make them see that. I came up here to read hoping I'd find something so I can understand where His Highness is coming from, but it still doesn't make sense to me, and... I'm so tired, Opeli."

Gods, she wishes she had a better answer for him. She gives his shoulders a tiny squeeze, and then reaches up and takes off his crown. "Go to the gardens for the rest of the day," she says. "With your crownguard, or your brother, or both. Down by the town. I'll tell the prince and his delegates you're not feeling well."

Ezran's eyes shine as she presses the crown into his hands. "But—"

"No buts. It's like you said: you're tired. You deserve rest." Opeli offers up a tiny smile. "Go on."

Ezran steps away, bottom lip trembling, and then throws his arms tightly around her in the middle. They've never hugged before, she thinks, but she hugs him back now, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Opeli," he mumbles, some of the last tears fading. "'M sorry I'm so..."

She shushes him quietly. "You're a very special boy, my king. Not everyone is going to understand that. And I know it hurts, but not everyone needs to. Just keep... being yourself. We all love you here. You know that, don't you?"

He pulls back slowly, not smiling, but not looking nearly as worn down as before. He tucks his crown under one arm, and picks up Bait with the other. He has one last big sniffle. "Yes. I do."

[muxshwriting]

the winner takes it all

Nico Rosberg x Hamilton!reader

summary: after 2016, nico cut you and your brother off. you reach out to him, wanting him to know you would always be his || warnings: slight angst, abandonment, threats || word count: 1328 || masterlist

It had been a hectic year, dating your brother's teammate who he was currently rivals with. The boys you'd grown up with had changed and evolved and grown ever more distant from each other. You'd spent most of the season juggling your emotions, trying not to celebrate too much when either of them one so the other didn't feel upset.

But as Nico crossed the line as World Champion, you couldn't hide your elation. The moment he was out of the car, he was jumping into the arms of his team. A part of your heart aches for Lewis, your brother, knowing how hard he had worked for this Championship, only to lose at the last second. But the pure joy that flowed through you dictated your actions as you threw yourself at Nico as he cheered. He pulled off his helmet, holding your head in his hands and pulling you in for a kiss.

"You won!" You're shouting over the crowd but Nico is nodding and grinning like a kid all over again.

"I won!"

Behind him, Lewis was watching his own sister congratulate the man who had just ruined his life instead of comforting her brother. How can Nico be so smug about taking everything Lewis had dreamed of? He was so nonchalant throughout interviews, as if he knew this was always meant to happen. But Lewis couldn't stop himself feeling bitter.

Nico could have the championship, Lewis could earn himself another. But Nico would not take everything from him, he would not take his sister. He watched his team celebrate from the sidelines, watched as his sister kissed and danced with the man she loved, the man he now hated. Tonight would be the last night he would come anywhere near his sister.

Whatever your brother did, you certainly noticed its affects even if you didn't know the reasoning behind them. Nico did not speak to again after the night he won the championship. Or any day after that.

In the beginning, you just assumed he was busy with interviews and stories, too busy to text you back or find the time to come and see you. But as time went on and he declined all your calls, it became obvious this wasn't a time issue. This was something else.

No matter where you went in Monaco, you could not find him. He didn't frequent the places you had shared, stayed away from your work and ignored anything you tried to reach out with.

"I don't understand Lew, he's not the kind of person that would do this, I don't know what happened." You're sitting in your brother's apartment, binging episodes of a random reality show and trying to figure it out.

"Maybe he thought he was too good now he's won the championship." Lewis felt bad for his sister, yes. But he was also glad Nico had realised what was good for him.

You wipe away tears. "We always talked about life after the championship was over, whether he won or you did. We were gonna move in together, take some time for ourselves, figure out if this was forever..."

"He mustn't think it was forever then."

"Then he should've told me that to my face, not completely blank me."

Two weeks later, by sheer coincidence you're sitting in the cafe you and Nico had often visited and he walked through the doors. He didn't notice you at first, ordering a takeaway and waiting by the counter. Quietly, you pack your bag and stand by the door, trying to catch him on his way out.

"Nico!"

He said nothing, his eyes widening as he recognised you. Nodding politely, he tried to push past you, not meeting your eyes.

"Nico?"

He finally met your gaze, swallowing the lump in his throat. "It's good to see you Y/N. I -"

"You’re gonna stay the fuck away from my sister, alright? I don’t want you to talk to her ever again."

"Lewis-"

"No! You won't talk to either of us again. You're nothing. You don't deserve her, and the sooner you realise that, the better off she is. She knows she's better off without you."

"Can we talk?" You ask.

Nico shakes his head. "There's nothing to talk about." He walks out the door but you follow.

"We need to talk about it Nico." You implore him. "Nico?"

"There's nothing to say."

"There's plenty to say Nico. Listen to me, please! I loved you, I still love you." You say. "Even after everything that happened, I never stopped. Why did you stop letting me see you?"

"Lewis told me to stay away. And you're better without me-"

"What?"

Nico turned to face you. "Lewis? He told me that you would be better without me, that you said that."

You're face is plastered with confusion. "Lewis told you not to talk to me? But- I never said that. Why does Lewis think he can control who I love?" As you were speaking, the anger grew. "Why did you listen to him?"

"Because he's right. You deserve more than me."

"Don't say that!" You quickly reply. "I don't care what my brother thinks, you are the world champion. You deserve everything, especially me! He can have any model he wants, all the races, all the wins, all the championships but I want you. I want to have you and I want to be happy with you."

Nico’s expression sours. “We’re not doing this here, not now.”

"I want you!" You yell after him, not caring who else heard. "Only you."

"Your brother-"

"Stop talking about my brother!" You beg him. "Please, I love you Nico."

He sighs, running a hand down his face. "Alright," he gestures you to follow him, "We need to talk somewhere more private."

Silently agreeing, you grabbed his hand and led him through the winding streets of Monaco until you reached his apartment building. He hadn't moved yet and as he unlocked the door, you let yourself admire the man you would always love. Nothing inside the apartment had changed except the pictures hanging on the wall.

Nico had a wall of pictures that you had helped him create. They were moments from his karting career, his life and his relationship with you. There was a new picture in pride of place at the very top of the wall, the place he put his favourite. It was a picture of the day he won his championship, a picture of you and him in a lovers embrace, confetti falling around you and sweat dripping from his hair. It was the perfect picture that captured everything you and him were.

"That's new." You point to the picture and look at Nico hopeful.

"Yeah." He smiles. "The team photographer sent me the original and I couldn't think of a better place to put it."

You took the chance and stepped closer to Nico, almost pressing your body against his. You felt the sharp intake of breath from him as he tucked a loose hair behind your ear.

"Are you sure?"

You're nodding before he's even finished. "We're gonna move in together, and take some time for us. And I know it's going to work because this is what I want in forever. I want you to my forever."

"Will you marry me?" He whispered the question like he didn't quite believe what he was saying.

"Yes." You immediately answer before Nico can backtrack. "Yes. Please."

Nico stepped back and shook his head slightly. "Wait- Y/N, just wait. I don't know why I said that."

"Are you trying to take it back?"

"No!" He hurriedly corrects. "I think we need to go slow. I haven't talked to you in three weeks."

"Three weeks don't matter, we know each other, we know that this works. Why do we have to wait?"

Nico couldn't hide his smile as he dipped his head to press his lips against yours.

"Why wait indeed..."

[rtfics]

Seeing BJ2 the 3rd time.

LONG & FILLED WITH SPOILERS

SO much to think about, and my memory is shit.

I rapidly scribbled notes during the film. But when I got home and tried to read them:

So here's an overview. I'll post other details if I ever translate my notes.

First, the casting was perfection. I'd never seen Jenny Ortega, Justin Theroux, and Monica Bellucci before, so for me they were the characters.

It was interesting that the film opens with the Warner Brothers Studio lot in black & white. Why B&W? It sort of sets the tone.

Donna Summer singing lines from "MacArthur's Park" was a foreshadowing. This film was made by a guy who was a teen in the 70s, and it's for others his age (he's only 2 years older than me). BJ2 is packed with 70s nostalgia that only those who were alive then would get.

This sequel was also made for die-hard fans of the original Beetlejuice. Burton took special care to give us the Winter River we love, but updated it to show the story and its characters aren't stuck in the past. The covered bridge is there, the church, cemetery, Miss Shannon's, and fire station are there, and so is the Maitland's building, but it's a coffee shop now.

Seeing Lydia as shell-shocked and pill-popping threw me, but the plot gave it sense (I'll go into detail in a separate post).

Rory, OMFG, I've known Rory. Anyone who's had anything to do with the entertainment/media biz, even peripherally, knows Rory. His "enabler" bullshit was so spot-on; faking that he's going to get Lydia off her dependency on drugs while keeping her hooked by making it seem that he's doing it because she's begging him. Classic user methodology. You just know he's the one who got her on "coping" pills in the first place; all the better to manipulate her. I loathed him immediately.

I adore what they did with Delia. It completely fucking made sense, and followed what's happened in the modern NYC Arts scene. I love how she and Lydia now get along, I mean, shit, Lydia's in her 50s and Delia's in her 70s, they're both middle-aged women, and, bless their hearts, the screenwriters and Burton made them act like grown women.

Astrid seemed older than 16 to me, but hey, I'm not around teenagers these days. I appreciated that she wasn't a brat. Her resentment and having her back up were appropriate for her family situation; a beloved father whose body was never found (I think); a mom always working or promoting because of Rory, doped on pills and famous for being a ghost-seeing nutjob, who can't see Astrid's father. That's a lot to deal with.

The way they handled Charles was perfect, especially his claymation demise. His afterlife body was comically gross, and an ingenious way of including Charles in the film without having to recast another actor, except for his voice. Charles being in the Netherworld provides a great thread to Delia's later death. His headstone being the shape of a shark's fin was a humorously grim touch.

The Sylvia Young Theatre School Choir sang at Charles' funeral, and their voices were beautiful.

Arthur Conti was fantastic as Jeremy (70s teens remember his grandfather, Scottish actor Tom Conti). His American accent was flawless. He was the perfect balance of cute and mature, and his niceness made his being evil all the worse; while Astrid says the incantation you can see him slightly out of focus behind her, smiling in a chilling way. I love that there isn't the slightest hint that he's a multiple murderer, and of his own parents! When he's about to get his passport stamped he shows absolutely no remorse toward Astrid, which makes his damnation all the sweeter.

Beetlejuice . . . . What can I say? Michael Keaton created Beetlejuice as we know him, and he fit right back in character as easily as drawing breath. His body language, his weird way of walking, his expressions, everything is just as you'd expect Beej to be. But then we get to see more! I can't express how happy I was to see Beej's origin story, which turned the throw-away line about having a pretty good time during the Black Death into something more substantial. Seeing Keaton as human Beej was a delight.

An important detail was that, even though Beej says his heart had long since withered, he fell for Delores. He says he was "bewitched." Perhaps not love, but lust certainly. It's quite clear that Delores was much higher in social station than Beetlejuice, so he must have thought he'd won the lottery with her choosing him. My god, his ego had no problem with his drunken ass being hauled to bed by his new wife, and his enthusiasm was huge. I love that they gave him the gut in his human form (Keaton doesn't have one).

Richard was the nice guy I hoped he would be. But it was telling that, when he says goodbye to Lydia at the ladder in the mausoleum, they don't hug. They don't even shake hands. It shows the truth of Lydia's previous statement to Astrid that she and Richard's relationship had ended long before his death.

Wolf is every 70s crime drama/movie distilled. Hammy, over the top, constantly spouting his Catch Phrase.

Why are there so many shrunken head guys? And why did Beej hire people who can't talk to answer his phones? It's loony and fits the Netherworld random login. They're Beej's Minions.

I've seen a lot of people on tumblr, as well as professional movie critics, say there were "too many villains" and that the plot was "too hard to follow."

For those who agree with this, I recommend you never attempt to read anything by Charles Dickens, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, Edgar Allan Poe's detective stories, or Agatha Christie. Because your brains would fry.

Look, there are two villains. Just two.

Delores poisoned Beetlejuice, he killed her with an axe in revenge, in the Afterlife she reassembles and hunts him down, killing others in her wake, which sets Wolf Jackson and the Ghoul Squad after her, until she's defeated with a sandworm.

Rory has been manipulating Lydia, keeping her doped, gas-lighting her, until under the Truth Serum injected by Beej he spills the beans and Lydia rejects him, until he's eaten at the same time as Delores by the sandworm.

As for "Delores and Rory weren't given enough story," what more do you want? How Delores joined a soul-sucking cult? How Rory became a user, seeking out vulnerable, grieving women to exploit? We learn as much as we need to. Anything more would have stuffed the film with unnecessary crap.

The only shit I didn't care for was the baby.

The whole Counseling scene was a big gross-out, and I'm sure Tim Burton intended it that way. The original couldn't have been more gross than it was or it would have earned an R Rating, keeping out everyone under the age of 18 (21 in some states; this was the 80s). But now, Burton could be a lot more graphic. I was stunned that he had Lydia go through the "pregnancy," but it obviously didn't hurt her. For me Babyjuice has no point. It doesn't advance the plot, and its reappearance only drives home the weirdness of the ending.

What the ever fuck was the ending??

Especially Astrid giving birth to the Beetlebaby. It would suggest Beetlejuice is its father, which means he and Astrid had sex. Which we can be pretty sure they didn't . . ? In the counseling scene Beej refers to the baby as his "inner child." So its not his literal child? Even so, why would Astrid give birth to it the same way her mother did?

I've read all the theories about the ending, and at this point one's as good as the other. Perhaps that's the point: To keep us all guessing. Because I'm sure, all along, there's been a plan for Beetlejuice 3, IF this movie was a hit. If it wasn't, if it bombed (since 2010 all of Burton's films have bombed), the ending would lead to speculation forever, to people writing fucking dissertations about its symbology and metaphors, etc.

But if it was a hit, which it is, the seeds are there for a third and final film. But so fucking murky no one can guess what it'll be like.

The only part of the ending I liked was Beej shaking awake and saying, as he glances at Lydia, "I just had the weirdest dream." And Lydia looking over. Not terrified. Not screaming or leaping out of bed. Not seeing the indentation in the pillow and yelling in protest. Just staring.

Do I want a third film?

I love Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. I love it more every time I watch it. I accept everything in it as canon, even the baby, resentfully.

But Burton might fuck up the last one. He might do things I never wanted to be canon. When a sequel is made of a hit film, the creators sometimes become self-conscious. BJ2 wasn't, because it'd been 36 years since the original. They had no idea whether this version would fly. Since it has, massively, I'm afraid the screenwriters and Burton may become too aware of the audience and try to cater to it. OR they'll go the opposite direction and try to come up with a plot they think fans would never imagine.

So I'm pretty much stuck in the same place I was before I saw Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

[katanablue]

This has been rotting in my brain (and notes) so I bring to you

Barbarian! Bayverse Raph

Barbarian!Raph who’s the biggest and most brutal of his brothers, proudly wears his title like a gold crown and wears a fur pelt from whatever latest animal he killed like it’s a prize.

Barbarian!Raph who makes weapons from teeth, bone, horns, really anything. He’s good with his fists but does need a spear or two to fight.

Barbarian!Raph who loves the thrill of a hunt and always volunteers to get rid of any sort of issue going around.

Barbarian!Raph who has no problem being violent. It’s in his nature and it’s all he’s ever known. Until he meets you.

Barbarian!Raph who first meets you covered in blood after fighting his latest victims in a village he had ambushed. He had been scouting around to make sure the coast was clear when he stumbled upon you hiding in an abandoned hut and pathetically holding a stick as poor weapon.

Barbarian!Raph who huffed through his nose and shoved aside broken furniture to get closer, scrutinizing at how small and fragile you look huddled up in the corner.

Barbarian!Raph who’s ready to just leave you there but something tugs at his heart and suddenly he finds himself hoisting you up by the back of your shirt and dragging you out the hut with him.

Barbarian! Raph who drags you along back to his brothers who are no doubt confused when their violent brother brings back someone alive. Raph simply says nothing and leaves you while he goes off back into the woods to get food.

Barbarian!Raph who brings back a boar and cooks it to perfection for you, sitting next to you by the fire while you munch quietly.

Barbarian!Raph who isn’t a man of many words but you’ve learned to read his mannerisms and habits, deciphering what a grunt means when it’s a certain pitch or when he has a specific look in his eye.

Barbarian!Raph who protects you so fiercely and would kill anyone for even looking at you the wrong way.

Barbarian!Raph who’s only known violence, bloodshed, and war. Thinking that it was all there was to life, happy and relieved that you are the one to prove him wrong.

Barbarian!Raph who comes home one day showered in blood, reminiscent of the first time you met and looks so unbelievably on edge that you worry he’s going to pop at any second. He needs to let out this tension and God does he want to unleash it on you but doesn’t want to scare you off.

Barbarian!Raph who has gotten so used to your gentle touches from cleaning his wounds and stitching him up, caring for him in such a delicate way, is completely and utterly taken aback when you tell him that he doesn’t have to gentle with you. Not in this moment.

Barbarian!Raph who sees red and completely and wholly ravishes you, fucking you hard and fast. It’s animalistic, raw carnal desire that’s been brewing inside him over the time he’s had you. He leaves marks all over your body, claiming his stake on you, leaving his scent everywhere he can because even though he knows they wouldn’t, he selfishly wants his brothers to know that you’re his.

Barbarian!Raph who’s not the best at aftercare but tries his best anyway. He rubs ointment that Donnie made all over you to soothe your aching and sore muscles, leaving apologetic kisses and churring quietly. He makes a silent vow to be more gentle next time, promising that he won’t be such a brute when he takes you.

Barbarian!Raph who clutches you tight to his chest as you lay on the fur bed, rubbing his hand up and down your back as you start to slumber off. He hooks his muscled leg over yours, afraid that you’ll slip away and this whole moment will be nothing but a dream.

Barbarian!Raph who thinks you’re asleep and takes the opportunity to whisper ‘I love you’ for the first time, not knowing that you were awake to hear it and tell him the same thing back the very next morning.

[secretlyobito]

Arranged marriage! Itachi x reader

Itachi must fix the damage he caused

Contains: teeny tiny bit of angst that turned into a lot, fluff, nicer Itachi, hurt to comfort, mentions of itachi's illness.

Part 2 to this

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

What was that incessant pain? Y/N groans as she awakes from her slumber groggily. Her hands fly to the aching spot, her neck, which was strained from sleeping in such an odd position. Why exactly am I sleeping on the floor she thought but grimaces soon after, as she remembers what happened. She had fallen asleep crying, all thanks to Itachi.

She scowls as she remembers his cruel words and the awful sensation of the genjustsu he had trapped her in, what exactly did she do to deserve that? All that just because she tried to make their relationship civil. She hisses in pain as she gets up from her spot on the floor, her sore limbs cracking and groaning in protest. She could feel the stinging sensation of dried tears on her cheeks and the inevitable puffiness of her face. Above all she felt this immense sadness, she thought he would at least come in to check on her or apologise but he didn't, what a jerk.

The shuffling in the bedroom alerts Itachi that she's awake. He planned to go in earlier but decided against it after hearing how hard she she was crying, the last thing she needed was to see his face. Now however, he had no more excuses to not apologise. He slowly approaches the bedroom, his heart thumping in his chest. What if she tells her grandfather about this? What if Hiruzen decides to cancel their deal and go ahead with the execution of the Uchiha because of this? He couldn't believe he let his emotions get the best of him like this, the Uchiha could be dead by tonight thanks to him.

Knock knock. He knows twice on the door, his mind still racing with thoughts. He needed to make her forget about this whole thing one way or the other, the future of the clan, of his little brother depended on it.

Knock knock. Perhaps he should just be friendly with her, that was what she wanted after all. Maybe if he gave her what she wanted then she wouldn't tell on him. Itachi cringed at his internal monologue, he really let things spin out of control. He felt like he was eight years old again, trying to convince sasuke not to tell on him to their parents by bribing him with attention and piggyback rides. Humiliating

Knock kno- The door swings open revealing an angry Y/N, her eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks stained with dry tears. Itachi's heart sinks at the sight and he doesn't even know why. He absolutely did not want to take it this far, he hadn't meant to hurt her like this. "Y/N..."

She stares at him, as if trying to convey her emotions with her eyes, her eyes that were filled with pain and resentment, towards him. He slowly backs her into the room, shutting the door behind them. He hesitantly grabs her hand and leads her over to the bed, sitting her down gently. He can sense the hesitation in her, it's almost as if she's scared of him now, he sighs, he really messed up.

"I am sorry Y/N. My actions were....unbecoming of someone of my status, much less as your husband". She keeps her head turned a way from him petutantly, he was joking if he thought that was all it was going to take to obtain her forgiveness. She fake sniffles, deciding to punish him, hoping to give him 1/10th of the torment he put her through.

Itachi panicks as he hears her sniffle, before he can stop himself his hand are moving to wipe her 'tears'. They both stare at each other in shock at itachi's very unusual display of affection, he quickly withdraws his hands, clearing his throat as he tries to dispel the now akward atmosphere. "I understand the severity of what I did and while I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn it" he has to force the words out of his throat, reminding himself he was doing this for his clan's sake.

She looks at him in skepticism, not believing a damn word he's saying. She wasn't stupid, she knew he was only apologising because he didn't want her to tell on him. Her chest twisted as she took in the fact that he didn't even value her emotions, she sighs as she turns further away from him, she wished he would just get out.

The next few moments were like slow motion, one minute she was getting ready to tell him to leave, the next minute she felt him wrap his arms around her. What. The. Heck. She blinked rapidly in surprise as she did a double take, Itachi was indeed hugging her! And....she couldn't say it felt bad. Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was the emotional trauma but she let herself relax into him. He was warm and smelt like a rainy day.

Itachi let out a breath as he felt her relax into his touch, he knew he had to show her he was sorry not just say it. It felt strange, all his instincts were screaming at him not to do this, he knew he had started to fall down a bottomless hole, surely he couldn't be falling for her. But would that be so wrong? His whole life he had trained himself like a machine, deliberately preventing himself from getting attached to anyone because the truth was, he couldn't. His health put a ticking time bomb on his life and he knew it was only a matter of time before he would succumb to sickness. He couldn't do this to her, he couldn't let her fall in love with him and then leave her but despite the storm raging in his mind, he felt himself pulling her closer. He held her tight as he breathed in the scent of her hair, he felt all his defenses crumbling and for once, he decided to let it happen. He would let himself this one selfish thing before he eventually met his demise, he would let himself love.

Months go by and true to his resolution, Itachi let himself grow closer to Y/N. They grew accustomed to each other's company, slept in the same bed and even called eachother pet names, Itachi's favourite for her being 'flower'.

Yet deep in his heart, he knew this was wrong. He knew he was doing a terrible thing, letting her love him knowing he could die at any moment, he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts as he waited on the living couch. The sky outside was painted beautifully with hues of orange and pink as the sun set. It was 6:28pm, much longer than when she was supposed to be home from work.

On a normal day, Itachi wouldn't even be home by this time but since he had no missions today, he decided to relax. His relaxation was cut short however, when he realized his wife wasn't back home the time she was supposed to be. Y/N was never really late on the days he was home, she was always home by 5 or a few minutes after. He was starting to get worried, was she ok? Did something happen?.

His thoughts were cut short as she pushed through the living room door "Hi Tachi, sorry I'm home late" she greets with a tight smile. Itachi was up on his feet immediately, something was wrong, her hair was disheveled and she looked shaken, not to mention that fake smile she just tried to fool him with. "flower, what happened?"

Her eyes widen as she hears his question, she shakes her head as she tries to push past him, "nothing I'm fine" Itachi blocks her path as he observes her with worry, he squints as he notices her hiding her left arm behind her back. "What are you doing? What happend to your hand" he asks trying to grab her hand, his eyes widen in shock as she jerks it back almost immediately, stumbling away from him. "N-nothing! I already told you" Itachi frowns as he watches her lie and move away from him "No more games Y/N let me see your hand" "It's fine Tachi, really!".

He scoffs as he approaches her slowly, determined to find out what's wrong with her. "I said I'm fine" she argues bringing her right hand to his chest to shove him away but Itachi uses the opening to grab the hand on his chest and yank her forward. She yelps as she stumbles into him, instinctively bringing out her left hand to balance herself. Itachi sees this and finally grabs the hand she had been hiding, bringing it up to his face to inspect it.

His eyes widen as he takes in the hand, her knuckles are busted, blood caking the skin. Her usually smooth skin is littered with cut and bruises. "What the hell Y/N! What is this??" "I-I fell" "cut the bullshit! Tell me what happened now damnit!" Itachi pleads, his chest tightening as he takes in her injured fist "please...."

She sighs as she takes in the distraught look on his face, she hated when he worried about her.

"My boss came in to work drunk today..." she starts, Itachi nods listening intently as he cradles her bruised fist in his larger one, gently caressing the flesh. "He started making a scene and yelling at eveyone, we had no idea what to do and we couldn't exactly call the police on him. Then he approached me.....he started telling me I was the worst worker here and that i was only in my position because of ji-chan. He called me names too, then he...." she stops her face contorting in discomfort.

"Then he what?" Itachi urges, moving his hand to rub her shoulder comfortignly. She takes a deep breath "......Then he touched me".

"..............."

".............."

"..........he did what?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Ya'll this was supposed to be fluff but the spirit of angst possessed me and I started writing about Itachi's illness 😭 guess this story's not gonna have a happy ending. Also just so you know, Itachi's gonna beat a bitch up in part 3, leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed!♡

[stardust-sunset]

Do have curtis parents headcanons

BOY DO I!!

Mrs. Curtis

Trying to decide whether she’s be named Cynthia or Carolina

She was born and raised Jewish (religiously)

Shes about 25% Jewish ethnically (from her mom’s side-her mom was half Jewish half Irish)

She’s half Scottish on her dad’s side (her dad was like FROM Scotland)

She grew up on a farm with a lot of pets and such

She was always a bit of a tree hugger/hippie kind of person

She was never the richest person in the world-but she knew how to be resourceful

She has a twin sister actually (either named Cynthia or Carolina, whichever one Mrs Curtis isn’t named)

Her and her twin sister had a really complicated relationship because Mrs Curtis was the brighter more outgoing of the two while her twin wasn’t-so that obviously made for tension (which is why it hurt so bad to see Soda and Darry beefing when they were little because Darry’s as seen as smarter and Soda wasn’t)

She was a gardener and really wanted to go to cullinady school or music school or something but she just couldn’t afford it

She was an incredible cook though. Thanksgiving at the Curtises was always incredible

Food was also her love language-Mr Curtis definitely gained some weight lol

Shes smol (5’3’’ or so)

Mr Curtis

Darrel was always kind of…”different”

Not in a bad way! But he was raised alongside 8 other boys and their dad was this super strict man who wanted his kids to be “manly”

He was ethnically Iabkut 80% Irish and 20% English

But Mr Curtis wasn’t like that-he liked joking around and just being a boy, not being confined

He was in the middle-fifth born. Smack dab right in the middle.

One of his brothers was definitely the asshole uncle who always harassed Pony, Soda and Darry

I also headcanon Mr. Curtis had ADHD and dyslexia (which makes him a demigod in percy jackson standards)

He was the one who passed his appetite down to his boys (and would make sure to tell them that all the time 😭)

He went into the military fresh out of high school (he fought in WWII and would’ve graduated HS in 1943 if my math is right-)

He came back for small periods of time (which was when Darry was conceived) and he felt absolutely horrible that he wasn’t there for his wife during her pregnancy

But he ended up with really terrible PTSD (his kids have walked in on him having panic attacks on multiple occasions)

He tried to hide it but it was kind of hard to

He was the neighborhood dad if i’m being honest

He’s the one who nicknamed Two Bit Two Bit. He did the same to Cherry and both names just stuck (he’d see her cheering at the football games-she’s only two years younger than Darry I think?)

Whenever he got serious he got SERIOUS

Like when Darry got arrested (side bc) but he was absolutely just heartbroken

Hes BIG too—like 6’7’’

Hope these are good!

[merkerlerspeaks]

You know. Sometimes you can just tell when God has put people in your life on purpose to show or teach you something.

My robotics teacher is a very, very compassionate, gentle Christian man, and very much persuing Jesus. And he is very understanding when my chronic condition effects my ability to attend class- perhaps likely due to his wife also having a condition like mine, perhaps due to the fact that he is just a very kindhearted person. (Luckily, I am able to do the majority of the class online, so it hasn't effected my grades).

There is also a young Christian man/late teen in my class as well who is also just such a big sweetheart. Very meek, very gentle, very smart. Also very much persuing Jesus.

I just very much admire it. My exposure to Christian men for the past 6 years has been predominantly my brother, which...well if you read my personal posts then we know how that has been going lol. I really appriciate being able to see...the variety, I guess. The ability to be able to speak to these people and not feel as if I am being spoken down too, and instead actually listened too. And the fact that they are christian men feels very healing.

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[gingermintpepper]

Extracts from The Greenhouse Floor

[seleneprince]

Sanzu waited for Senju to leave the house before slashing Takeomi's eye and run away. For two reasons:

1. He didn't want Senju to see that, not only because she would've intervened, but because he wanted to spare her the bloody spectacle.

2. So Senju didn't try to stop him from leaving. Because despite what complex feelings he harbours for her, he couldn't bear having to say goodbye to her or the pain that moment might've caused. So he avoided it.

[fizzytoo]

loser teenagers doing loser teenage things like text each other while in the same room and gossip about adrien's boomer neighbor who refuses to put on pants when collecting the morning paper.

mckenzie’s visit was cut short because rosa went into labor !

[virfujiwara]

Zucu Doctor Quién