#So just some vague. Points of connection here :)
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tinolqa · 1 day ago
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god I haven't mentioned it enough here. Myths of the Realm is my enemy. easily my least favorite 24-man- or rather it's my least favorite raid series of either type.
probably made worse by pandaemonium being genuinely very good? the contrast was stark.
weak answer to the question of the twelve's nature, very unambitious and mediocre visual designs that were largely too married to visual fidelity to boring statues and card designs. some real disney's hercules shit. there were some innovative or appealing elements here and there: nald'thal was genuinely great visually and conceptually, I actually respect the concept of making menphina a magical girl instead of a generically hotsexy love goddess, byregot's halo of nails, uh... the models for thalaos and perykos looked good? but overall they were a bunch of very boring idealized humans.
and my god eulogia is the ugliest thing. eulogia might actually be the most hideous execution of a concept in the game yet, you might as well just clip all of the models of the twelve into each other and play their animations at once and get the same effect. zero elegance, zero thoughtful design. it's actually shocking to see in a game where we got perfect omega as a raid boss once upon a time. even eden's promise, while superficially a hot mess, is a hot mess because it pays homage to extant depictions of artemis! art history is why it looks like that! eulogia looks like the artists were asked to recreate knife dad from monster factory using ffxiv assets.
and you might ask, well, are the mechanics of the fights better than the boss designs? absolutely not. week one aglaia was a little fun, because there being a chance of failure to people not knowing the trick of the meteors in the rhalgr fight or panicking during the nald'thal scales instead of just deliberately failing the mechanic to waste everyone's time. gear creep destroyed any chance of interacting with most of the fun bits of aglaia, and they didn't repeat that "mistake" in the other two, which were boring and easy from the jump. just an absolute void of challenge or chaos. why even bother putting mechanics into your raid at that point, apparently that's only for savage.
and the rewards... boy I hope you like ugly yellow-gold saint seiya armor and generic draping faux-hellenistic robes and vague suggestions of togas. I hope you fucking gluttons for endless less-problematic rehashes of ancient greek mythology like gaudy costume jewelry and sandals and meaningless neoclassical flourishes. did you want gear that might look like something your character would wear in a city they've visited or that has a connection to a historical aesthetic? I guess if you make believe you can stretch a tenuous bond from this tacky armor to the uniform robes and masks of the ancients. ostensibly. since we all know the ancients didn't have a societal taboo about ornamentation or making your clothes individualized or anything.
so what did we achieve? did we learn anything? turns out the twelve were real all along, but also powerless except in the specific context of having flashy anime duels with the warrior of light. it's VERY important that we say they aren't primals, because primals are only summoned by primitive subhumans like the ixal and the garleans. but we do need you to fight them to return their aether to the star because... they're definitely not primals! no. not primals. primals are fake gods, and the twelve are *aetheric constructs* based on *real people* made by *hydaelyn*, which means they're good and Not Primals. the mechanic by which they visually reflect the beliefs of their followers? definitely not the same as the one that does that for primals. their nebulous dependence on the faith of eorzeans? totally unrelated to primals, because it's apparently important for the ego of the players that *their* god is real and not fake, which makes them ontologically good and righteous.
and it's definitely satisfying to find out that the goddess whose name gave weight and gravity to the reveal of the warrior of light's past incarnation and their name... is called that because she was a failed candidate for that role? she's a consolation prize sun goddess?
for that matter it's definitely satisfying to find out that the twelve are just recreations of venat's boring ancient friends, who are largely nameless and have no significance to you or your interaction with the past aside from a mediocre sidequest. oh it's so thrilling to know that the god of crafting used to be hytholdaeus's coworker. this would mean so much to me if he had any role in the setting beyond a skill name and a rock sitting in an overworld zone.
admittedly it would also suck for the reveal to be "actually eorzea's gods did create the world and are all-powerful, boy it sure is silly that those delusional foreigners are out here worshipping kami and manusya and mrga and primals which are all FAKE, as opposed to us (non-beastman) eorzeans who have the literal mandate of heaven"
but surely there's a more elegant solution (ambiguity, leaving questions instead of a glut of answers, not making this raid series at all). was this really the best they could come up with?
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morsobaby · 3 months ago
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OPAL x MOUTHWASHING
Jimmy - "I feel terrible for all the-.. I feel terrible.. But I forgive you. I forgive each and every one of you. Every night. It's a virtuous cycle // mama needs a little girl to land on. Mama needs a little girl to fall in her arms <-[About Anya]" (Virtuous cycle)
Curly - "Won't you tell me, why it sounds so easy to breathe, on TV // all these salesmen, they want my soul Claire, they fight over me like dogs" (Easy to breathe)
Anya - "We see you, Opal, your troubles are miles away! We see you, Opal! And in our eyes you'll stayyyy" (Opal)
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icewindandboringhorror · 3 months ago
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I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 months ago
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another day another "applying the concept 'disposability' to 'someone withdraws from a personal relationship, & that wasn't signed off on by the other'" kill me
#literal acknowledged interpersonal abuse Needing to be ''mediated'' (implicit premise of preserving that relationship >>>)#and if the victim doesn't participate they're treating their abusive partner / abusive relationship as ''disposable''#like in what meaningful way. getting away from an abuser is ''disposing'' of them like imprisonment / killing From A State?#dropping an abusive relationship is ''disposing'' of it? like uh yeah i sure hope it is#this is always Vaguely Applied to ''ppl don't want to HANDLE CONFLICTS or DO THE WORK'' & then connected to political actions#like well someone's just a bad person In The World / All Things if they stopped being my friend and i don't know why#like of course that Can Be good faith. it's a personal business#but if someone ghosts you and you truly don't know why Yeah maybe there's something going on but like okay let them go#if they want to do that for reasons you don't think are Compelling or they just aren't interested / putting in that Effort then like#what Friendship is really being lost here. but then tweet about it with no context & a zillion ppl like SO TRUE kys randos#[fart reverb Conflict Is Not Abuse] standard abuse apologetics which are easy & a zillion ppl go SO TRUE b/c It's Abuse Culture#someone HAS to Answer My Texts / Calls / In Person Confrontations As A Bold Clearsighted Political Actor are you kidding#someone really doesn't. even if you Really are like ''and i'm not even consciously malicious'' what a high bar#one gazillion abusive parents will tell you And My Estranged Child Won't Even Tell Me Why / Doesn't Have Any Good Reasons / Won't Talk....#what am i supposed to doooo i'm at a losssss And Really I'm The Victim#''i want to break up'' / ''okay i don't :) let's talk through Your Feelings :) [waffle around until insisting on Same Access To Person]''#someone can rescind interpersonal access to themself For Any / No Reason. on a dime no explanation necessary. for god's sake#and friendship is not actually some magically pure & Neutral relationship either. same things#anyway just unfollowed some rando for their thread spinning off a vague qrt ''ppl are so AFRAID OF CONFRONTATION they unfriend u''#going on & on abt how You Need To Put In The Work & Effort & You're Just Probably A Bad Person Otherwise & Disposability like#the disposability is my three points wastebasket toss. death via the state =/= someone won't talk to you. can we be at all serious#every day i reach out further like aplatonic people [some emblem gesture] lovelessness [same] help me#thinking of a Good Tweet i saw abt framing everything re: interactions with others around Consideration first & foremost#wildly enough the way you treat people doesn't need to have Fundamental Assumptions re: like ah Friendship / Community / Love / Family &ccc#how do you treat a stranger. how do you treat someone who you don't personally like &/or vice versa. how do you treat ppl you don't Meet.#it's all so vague it could mean Anything but a) often hints towards [abuse victims are framed as Bad Political Actors]#& b) then that's what people read into & respond to for sure lol#as ever ''oh everyone's just little bitches who can't handle any discomfort. yes; this was prompted by my being discomfited''#wait yeah lol i did not Confront this stranger to try to Posit this to them in twttr's character limit; just unfollowed. disposability smh
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eclarinet · 6 months ago
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same soup... different day
#hello it is sarah in the tags again#i feel like i tell myself i'll actually use this as a blog and then i forget and then i remember and then i forget again#venting ahead if that is not ur jam (talking to the 2 followers who actually see my posts)#i like tumblr because it;s so removed from my personal life that it feels really like a place i dont have to be anything for anyone#anyway i've been wondering if i should go back to therapy again but i feel like they might get tired of me because i keep bailing and comin#back like an addict lol like i swear i'll commit this time! sike. ghost be upon ye#anyway this time i'd come in for the big D#i don't like the floor it just feels closer to being six feet under and a bit like where i belong#i feel like a great number of things have happened in the past year and i've met all of it with a very lukewarm sense of dread and anxiety#its not even about feeling happy i dont even think i can feel shaken by anything. i feel like people see my apathy and think it's confidenc#anyway im not going back. they always say the same thing. can't do shit about shit life syndrome. and i don't want pills i'm so sick of the#isn't it something that i'm especially depressed the day before i start my new job? it's a tradition at this point. cheers#isn't it cruel that everyone in my life seem to put me on some kind of bizarre pedestal and no one questions my decisions or authority and#i battle with myself to figure out if i'm doing the right thing (no one will tell me the truth they are all scared of me getting angry)#was talking with a friend about how it'll be if i join their group project in a module we're taking soon.#and she's like well isn't it obvious? everyone will just listen to whatever you say and we'll end up doing well.#no one would challenge you because you're always right. and it's like.. yeah. i guess. okay. (hate that i know she's not wrong)#lol can u tell this is why house is kind of getting to me. learning lots of things about myself watching that man commit medical malpractic#anyway. i didn't ghost my therapist this time i remember now. she left the clinic lol she asked me to connect on linkedin. that was amusing#i always feel like the therapists here never know what to do with me and i kind of have to hold their hand a bit through my psyche#also they seem to be a bit at awe of me which is a bit annoying. and i know that definitely sounds like Issues but it's just like#ugh not you too. please stop i'm sick of it i'm sick with it. i don't want you to be inspired by my awful life and how i handled it#and i have nothing to say for it but... *gestures vaguely* of all of this
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dashiellqvverty · 2 years ago
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i have a headache and can NOT think clearly enough to really gather my thoughts but as much as i really did like atsv there were just. things about it that didnt work for me. and like mostly i was not big on how they did the “canon events” stuff like im not AGAINST it just at points felt like sort of redoing the moment in itsv where after aaron dies the other spiderpeople are able to comfort and relate to miles because they’ve been through similar things and this is like... that but in a technical lore way and not hitting the same emotional beat?? like obvioulsy they’re taking it somewhere different and its about like defying the story that’s laid out for you and i LIKE that but. idk. and im like yeah obviously theres stuff thats part of the spiderman origin story we KNOW this we did it already in the last movie and it was a great scene. and also like theres no way everything they referenced is 100% true for every version of spiderman, even every single one that cameos in the movie?? idk. it just Frustrated me in a way that i truly cannot put my finger on
#anyway did my Actual Getting My Thoughts Sorted in the tags. so they got long.#atsv spoilers#im on my period and my head hurty and i feel like im thinking through a fog so. thats part of the problem#also im just like yeah man fixed events in the time stream or whatever its a very standard thing#idkkkk i literally feel like im close to a thought that i cant piece together#something something what makes spider people So Special that THEY have fixed destinies that others dont idkidk#was that what the web thing was?? being a spiderperson doesnt have to do with the multiverse tho like. idk if this makes sense#i promise im not being cinemasins about the lore here#its just like. i wanna figure out what it was that didnt work for me so i gotta talk it all out#and like i realize its meta commentary on comics and retellings and stuff too and. idk#something about 'its a fixed moment in a spider persons life that a police captain has to die while saving a child' feels kind of Dumb#to watch as like a Serious Moment?? idk#like obviously its TRUE to some extent bc. they are all retellings of the same story and thats the POINT#and i get that.#but also youre CREATING some of these stories for the movie#like idk a TON about hobie in the comics altho i'd like to read more im just kind of vaguely familiar#but what i can gather he has NO cop related backstory so like. now theyve given him one :|#and i dont love that!#and its like. yeah they want something that can connect to miles' dad. and hes a cop and this is something that is. Generally Speaking.#a connection in many spiderman retellings. but. again and i dont know this for a fact#does that happen in the comics to any spiderman other than different versions of peter parker?#like saying its a Key Thing when its. largely invented for the movie. maybe?#i like the storyline for miles and im like i wish it had been arrived at in some slightly different way? idk#had a great conversation about it w my brother in the car after the movie bc we both were kind of like 'oh' abt the whole movie#like it was GREAT but had been hyped up SO much and we were like. well this doesn't surpass or elevate the first#he thought miles' parents writing didnt feel consistent w the first which. i should do a rewatch of itsv tbh#and was commenting on how much gwen sucked and fucked miles over and im like yeah man i loved that#dont be cinemasins and say its a plothole bc she made bad choices#shes a scared teenager who bought into miguel's scheme and is making decisions a scared teenager would#we both agreed the soundtrack does NOT compare to itsv
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sabertoothwalrus · 9 months ago
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do you think Falin's chimerism would affect her lifespan and behaviors? or just her body? maybe she can make more animalistic noises or has vague dragon-like instincts?
that’s a really good question! I think we could probably figure this out by taking a look at what we know about Falin, what we know about red dragons, whether these things would apply to Falin, and go from there.
The obvious external changes Falin has are: her eyes, her teeth, and her feathers.
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It’s hard to pin down what Falin is like! Throughout the duration of the manga, she wasn’t really a character so much as a plot device. We have almost nothing told from her point of view, and the majority of her unbiased (as in, we’re seeing her through a neutral lens and not another character’s perception of her) characterization is from the post-canon omake.
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Even Falin believes that her wanderlust might come from her dragon side, but she's not sure. Personally, I think it’d make a lot of sense if it kind of does, in the sense that she has 20/20 vision now, haha! For most of her life, she could probably only see clearly within a relatively small sphere surrounding her, and now she can see everything. She can look up and around freely in a way she couldn’t before. Fuck man, if I had magic lasik I’d probably go out more too.
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Some other quirks that are really unclear whether it’s typical for Falin or chimera-influenced:
she enters rooms through windows, sometimes. And given the leaves in her hair, I think it’s reasonable to assume this is not the first floor 💀 But who knows! Maybe that’s not new for Falin.
She points out that Laios’s scent could deter monsters. Maybe she has enhanced smell. But again, it isn’t unreasonable to think this is something she would have said before. (I think even Chilchuck and Izutsumi, whose senses of smell are enhanced, can’t identify scents well. Kuro, however, can.)
VIOLENCE! But again, we’ve seen her beat shit with her staff before, and she also used to wield a flail. It IS a trait for red dragons to fight any large threat, so if anything, she’s got even better monster fighting instincts than before. I don't think this would carry over to people. Falin has always been better with people, and I'm personally not a fan of seeing her depicted as territorial or possessive. Marcille is already the possessive one, and didn't need dragon blood to be like that.
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Ultimately, I don't think her dragon traits extend much farther beyond this. Especially when you consider How Little the dragon is represented as in her conscience.
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it's not like it's a 50/50 split. She's like a person with a dragon ratatouille. I don't think she'd be able to make dragon noises. I don't think her body is built for that. I know there's like, a set list of tropey characteristics that are given to almost every non-human character in fiction. and sure that's FINE but they tend not to be especially personalized to the character, and tend to just be an excuse to write them OOC. Like, sure, dragons may have instincts regarding sleep habits, hunting, courting, raising young, etc etc, but so do humans! And we don't compulsively act on every instinctual whim we have. I don't see why it'd be any harder for her new dragon instincts.
If anything, I think she'd feel more affected by the fact that she has part of the demon in her.
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I don't think Falin's in any sort of trouble. All the demon was was a way to communicate with people. Here, it's representing Falin's tether to the infinite realm, to mana itself. The winged lion no longer has the desire to consume anymore because, yknow, Laios has that now. This is very likely why she no longer needs to chant to cast magic.
But what else does this mean for her? She already had unusually high reserves of mana + an innate connection with spirits, but is her mana essentially limitless now? How would that affect her lifespan? I'm leaning towards, it wouldn't really?? But is she immune to mana sickness now? Is it more like her magic is just sort of amplified like it would be in a dungeon?
We can infer that having more mana doesn't increase your lifespan, because-- while elves and gnomes have both naturally high levels of mana and longer lifespans-- dwarves live longer but have lowest levels of mana of all.
So to answer your question! Maybe a little bit?? But I don't think she'd change a whole lot.
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sunny-knight · 13 days ago
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Dear My Dear -
an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow
At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…
*now what?
Its lore time. omg theres so much-
The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.
THE BIGGER PICTURE
This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.
I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.
Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.
ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…
Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.
(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)
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my dear wingdings,)
Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.
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you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)
Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-
Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!
(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)
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i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)
the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans
The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.
Or if Wingdings just became him.
A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.
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i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)
2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.
The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things
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but i cannot live like that.)
Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.
Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!
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and it seems you cannot live any other way.)
another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.
I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”
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when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)
When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.
As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.
But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!
He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**
Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.
Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”
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i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.
Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.
The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.
Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.
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theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)
Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying
“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego
I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.
Thats the good man within him
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you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)
the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.
The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.
Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later
Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-
Its not that deep…but still-
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i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)
CALL BACK!!!!!!
Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.
As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.
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i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)
GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!
Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.
cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out
EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…
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and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.
- your brother
As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!
Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.
Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.
the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.
FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!
weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day
also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!
Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.
un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-
well I mean that-….. hm…
does that…? hmm, well….
520 notes · View notes
witchywcmans · 5 months ago
Text
TOO SWEET. | LAIOS TOUDEN
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synopsis ━━ after accepting his new title, your moments alone with laios start to become a rarity. it was hard for him to find time, making him long for the days in the dungeon with you. and now, the kisses between you two were quick and desperate, until one night...when a very tired laios just can't seem to ignore you. (laios x f!reader.)
content warnings ━━ cunnilingus + fingering, praise, size kink, reader on top, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, yearning + sexual tension, laios and reader haven't boinked in a bit, monster facts as dirty talk ofc, confession, mentions of dubious consent in 5th paragraph (from when the winged lion switched into laios's body). nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).
word count ━━ 5.4k
song inspiration ━━ howl, florence + the machine / oil & water, pvris / love story, taylor swift
author's note ━━ THIS ONE-SHOT CONTAINS MANGA SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF DUNGEON MESHI! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! okay, part 3 (and final part) of my laios series is here! like the other parts, this could be read as a standalone, if you want. my plan for part 3 was to make it vague in case ppl who haven’t read the manga want to read it, but that kinda went out the window. I highly encourage everyone to read the manga if you want more of the story, it gets so interesting! I'm a SUCKER for a knight x ruler ship, so that's what you're getting in this!! I've enjoyed writing this little connected series so much and it really pushed me to start writing reader one-shots! if it hadn't been for all the ppl in the dungeon meshi fandom who read my work, I probably wouldn't have started this. this anime + manga has become one of my absolute favorites!! I hope you guys enjoy this! ps: don't worry, I will be writing more laios in the future 😉
🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.
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After what felt like years, all was right in the world when the Island’s dungeon was destroyed and the Golden Kingdom finally rose from the sea. You had gotten to know Laios – in more ways than one – throughout your journey inside the dungeon, which had left you terrified at some points, especially when you almost lost him. But it hadn’t surprised you when the people had declared him King of a land that was thought to have been perished 1000 years ago. With everything he sacrificed, Laios – the devour of monsters, the destroyer of demons – was the only right person to rule.
With the help of Marcille, Senshi, Chilchuck, and even more friends met along the way, Laios was advised thoroughly as he undertook the stresses of establishing the Golden Kingdom once again. He had to deal with villager problems, instituting the economy, and keeping an eye on the monsters that took residence in surrounding lands. He watched them from his bedroom window on the farthest tower of the castle, admiring the beasts that warded off any threats to the kingdom. But his passion had become the production and preservation of food throughout his land, specifically in regards to magic and monsters. He made sure not one person in the Golden Kingdom went hungry, even if it killed him someday.
Most days were spent researching with his advisors or sitting in the throne room, listening to villagers' pleas for more building materials, better water, or whatever else they came up with that day. Laios made sure to listen to every ask, but he had to admit – just talking to people was exhausting. He never regretted his decision to become King, but sometimes … he longed for the days in the dungeons, tearing into whatever monster they cooked up that night, fighting alongside you, holding your hand or kissing you … tasting you.
Like your former party members, you had taken up residence in the castle as Laios’s chief knight and sworn protector. It made sense, given the fact that you had saved him with your crossbow on several occasions in the dungeon. You frequented by his side, except when he was in his own chambers. You led him to meetings, walked with him through the streets of the kingdom, protected him if any threats arose. Ever since you took up this mantle, your moments alone together had become rare. There had been one night: after Laios was safe and sound in the walls of the castle … that you shared his bed with him, tears streaming down your face because you had been so worried for him, but it didn’t matter anymore now that he was safe, and healing, and pounding into you so hard that it left you both gasping for air. Besides that, the only encounters you had alone were fleeting, consisting of swift, passionate kisses and rough squeezes in dark corners. You two hadn’t been intimate in any sense of the word since … well, since the Winged Lion was defeated. 
Just the memory of the demon made you shiver. You remembered when the Wing Lion had switched into Laios’s body and granted his true desire to become a monster. Before trying to escape the dungeon, he had tried fooling all the party members that he really was Laios and he almost fooled you. You recalled the way he had tried to kiss you – probably devouring your own desires right from your mouth – and how his hands so eagerly tried to slip underneath your skirt, finding you already aching and ready for your lover, just needing to be touched after being so distraught over Laios’s wellbeing. But you recognized the foreign contact from a mile away, and you had pushed him back, screaming at the Winged Lion to bring back your Laios.
You shook yourself out of the memory as you walked Laios back to his bed chambers that night. His stomach was full from dinner, but he was also worn out from a long day of meeting with his advisors. Marcille had really chewed into him about something today, but you weren’t sure of the reason. Holding open the door to his room for him, you caught his tired, lingering gaze before he disappeared inside. You swallowed hard, stationing yourself outside his door, your fingers on the handle of your sword. Nights like these were hard. They were lonely. It was just you out here, manning the King’s chambers, with nothing but the memory of his mouth between your legs or his groans echoing in your ears. 
His half-lidded eyes tonight had you reeling, squeezing your thighs together as you tried to forget about how much you wanted him. It had been almost two weeks since he last kissed you. And that kiss had been quick, desperate, two people colliding in the small, unlit closet used by the maids.
Your hand enclosed around the hilt of your sword, and you nodded at two other guards walking past. If you kept losing yourself to daydreams like this, there was no way you’d be focused enough to protect Laios from an immediate threat. That’s what mattered after all: the King’s protection … the King’s protection … the King. Surely, it wasn’t wise to be so entranced with the new King of the Golden Kingdom as his sworn sword. And again, you understood why you were picked. But it was nights like this where you really wished you had just been … his lover. Hell, you’d even survive with just being a lady of the court if it meant no more secret meetings in closets.
You could’ve dwelled on this predicament for hours, if the door to the Laios’s chambers wasn’t opening.
You turned immediately, your hand on the hilt of your sword going tight. But it was just Laios, leaning against the open door and rubbing at his tired eyes. He had shed his fancy clothes for a nightshirt and loose-fitting drawers. His hair had grown a bit longer, and he refused to cut it out of spite. The way it was sticking out right now, pushed back slightly by his hand … you swore you could feel your knees buckling.
“Your Grace?” You greeted, remaining professional, until you saw that look in his eyes again. That tired, lingering gaze. Full of want, and care, and desperation for another body against his.
His eyes crinkled, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at your call. “Please, do not feel the need to call me that at this hour.” He then held out his hand, beckoning you closer.
Swallowing hard, your eyes flicker down the barren hallway before taking his hand, letting him lead you inside his bed chambers. This was the moment you’d been waiting for so long. His movements were calculated, deliberate, as he slowly shut the large door. You unhooked your belt and scabbard, setting them by the door. As you turned to him, he was already in front of you, helping you take off your armor. His fingers were slow, not in a hurry, as he fiddled with the metal fasteners. He struggled with some clasps, muttering under his breath, and you laughed softly. Each piece was set delicately on the ground, and then he was lifting off your chainmail as if it weighed nothing. You sometimes wondered how you were able to walk around with such heavy material every day since taking up this mantle.
Finally, you were left in nothing but your clothes beneath the armor: a loose red tunic and suede trousers. The relaxed nature in his eyes vanished, replaced by an intense hunger, mirroring the stance of a wolf. Laios was rushing towards you, pushing you against the wall, and pressing his mouth onto yours. You matched his desire tenfold, winding your hands into his hair as you kissed each other with desperation. His fingers fisted into the sides of your shirt, pulling you against him, while his tongue prodded into your mouth. He groaned immediately. All this time without tasting just a bit of you had him weak in the knees. He’d never go this long without kissing you ever again.
“It’s been weeks,” he muttered between kisses. Gone was the monster-obsessed adventurer who saved you from turning into a sea serpent. He’d been replaced by a King who yearned for your touch the second he saw you every morning.
“Since we last kissed,” you corrected as he pressed your back even further into the cold, stone wall. His lips broke away from yours, leaving a trail of spit connecting you two. You exhaled, “It’s been months since we were alone for longer than two minutes.”
“I know,” he sighed, now nuzzling his cheek against yours, “and I’m sorry. All I want to do is go back to the dungeon … with you. It’s just … there’s no time, and I’m so tired.” His mouth then dragged to the shell of your ear, and you shivered when his hot breath ghosted over the side of your face. “But the way you looked tonight at dinner … I don’t know … it was the way the wine made your face red … no matter how tired I was, I had to have you tonight. I missed you so much.”
You were sure that your cheeks had to be as flushed now as they were at dinner. Just his kiss alone had you wet, already wrapped around his finger. “I missed you too, Laios.”
He hardly gave you a second to continue before he was kneeling in front of you. He couldn’t wait; there was this fierce longing in his eyes that only you could cure. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your trousers as he muttered, “I need to taste you.”
Despite his desperation, he did take a moment to admire how soaked your underwear was, how he had always been the one to cause this. You looked down at him and he looked up at you. With long, expert fingers, Laios tugged your underwear down along with your trousers. Your pussy was absolutely dripping, like a goddamn faucet. A whine escaped his lips, hungry for a taste, and he spread your folds just slightly to see the wetness gather. There were just about a thousand monster dishes he enjoyed, but nothing – absolutely nothing – compared to how delicious you were.
Laios didn’t even give you time to step out of your pants and underwear. He was grasping your hips and burying his face between your legs, pushing you right back against the wall. You choked on a moan, even though you both knew you had to be quiet, but you just couldn’t help yourself. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give him better access, and when he finally got the first few drops of you on his tongue, he damn near started crying.
You were exquisite. You were too sweet. Sweet like Dryad fruit.
Grinding your hips against his tongue, you whined out his name and realized how badly you had needed him in this way for weeks. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tugging his face deeper into your pussy. He lapped at you, absolutely ravenous, groaning when more slick entered his mouth. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked harshly. His fingers dug into your hip, surely bruising you, while his other hand wrapped around your leg and pushed them even further apart. 
“Missed the way you tasted,” he muttered before flicking your clit with his tongue. “I could do this for hours.”
You let out a shuddering breath, already hazy from his touch. “Why don’t you then?”
“I want to,” he chuckled, all awkward and blushing. Just the sight of him looking up at you with those pretty eyes while licking a stripe up your pussy had you gasping. “Tomorrow. I promise. I just need to be inside you tonight.”
His promise for tomorrow had your heart fluttering. You both were going to make time again, but he also had more plans for you tonight. This wasn’t going to be just two minutes in a closet. Thinking of him stretching your walls with his girth, pushing into you after all these weeks of yearning for him, of touching yourself whenever you could because you just missed him so much … it all made you start to buck your hips against his tongue again. You knew how much he loved that. You physically felt him smile against you, sucking on your clit once again as he prodded one finger inside your tight warmth.
Your eyes rolled back once he found your g-spot, curling his finger and beginning to pump in and out. “Fuck, Laios, I –”
“Needed this so badly,” he confessed, swirling his tongue around your increasingly swollen clit. His cock was straining against his drawers, precum seeping through the thin fabric, but he wanted you to cum on his tongue first. It’s all he’d been dreaming about. “Needed you.”
“I needed you too,” you whispered, and then felt him add a second finger inside of you. You bit the side of your hand, muffling your moan. “So good – fuck. Doing so good, Laios –”
Your body was starting to shake, your walls clenching around his fingers. Laios was relishing in your taste, teasing your clit in the most delicious way. You were so, so close and he needed this so much and so did you and before you knew it, you were crying out into your hand again. Your pussy went tight as his fingers curled into your g-spot and you came all over his waiting tongue. Laios whimpered when he finally tasted your release, pushing his face as much as he could into your pussy, almost suffocating himself. He licked at you, making sure he got every last drop, and when your hips finally stilled, he pulled his fingers out of you with a wet pop and lapped at the excess.
Sweat ran down your brow as you settled against the wall, trying to calm your breathing. When you opened your eyes, Laios was getting to his feet and towering over you. His hand clasped around your jaw and gave you another bruising kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. It was like he was trying to devour you, to mold both of you into one so you could be together forever.
Carrying you over to the bed, he set you down on top of the blankets and finally tugged your pants and underwear from your ankles. You laughed together when he realized that he had gotten so excited he forgot to rid you of these. "Sorry," he said, setting them down in a pile.
You couldn't help but smile when you noticed the blush on his cheeks. "Missed me that much, huh?"
His face went even more pink. "Stop embarrassing me when I'm trying to seduce you."
He pulled his nightshirt over his head, and before his fingers could grasp the hem of your tunic, you were pinning him with the brute strength he forgot you acquired in the dungeon. "You don't have to do much to seduce me, Laios," you whispered in his ear, making him shudder.
Now underneath you, you straddled Laios's lap, feeling how hard he was in his drawers. He looked up at you in shock, like you were an offering from the Gods, as you lifted your tunic off and dropped it to the floor. His breathing stilled, watching the way your breasts heaved, and his cock was practically begging for release. 
You leaned down, pressing your mouth to his throat, placing sloppy kisses on areas that made his breath hitch. This was the new King of the Golden Kingdom under you, trembling from just your lips on his skin. He was wrapped around your finger just as much as you were wrapped around his. Dragging your lips down, you kissed his chest before finally swirling your tongue around one of his nipples. Laios muttered expletives under his breath as you wrapped your lips around his nipple, pinching his other one. His whole body was becoming tense underneath you, his straining erection poking against your backside, but you kept teasing him.
At the end of the day, you were always there for your King.
Once both his nipples were taut and wet from your expert tongue, you leaned back up to his face and kissed the corner of his mouth. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, cupping your face so tenderly. “Laios, I just want to be extra sure. Do you want to …?” Your question hung heavy between you two, but recognition flashed in Laios’s eyes. You nuzzled the side of his face and added, “I know you’re tired. I don’t want to keep you up if you’re that exhausted.”
“I’ve been thinking about this – about you – for weeks,” he said, his eyes filled with need. “I want this. I want you.”
You stared at him, absolutely melting at the sight of that dopey grin on his face once again, the one you loved so, so much. Now you were blushing, unable to not giggle when you saw that grin. You traced the curve of his mouth with your finger, and he bit down on the top of it unexpectedly, making you both laugh. This is why you loved Laios: everything was so easy with him.
Wait, love. Is that was this was? The burning feeling in your chest whenever he was near. The way you couldn’t help but smile whenever he did, or how you always laughed along with him. The natural disposition to protect him, whether it be from demons or people. The way you could so easily melt under his touch, under his kiss. It had always been there, staring you right in the face … love.
Feeling your heart beat rapidly in your chest, you finally moved so he could push down his drawers, and his hard cock sprang free. Precum leaked from the blushing red tip, dripping down his shaft and onto his stomach. You adored how pretty his cock was, how easily he could stretch you out with his girth. He liked the way you looked at it now, how you praised him. It took a couple of times, but he eventually stopped being embarrassed about his size around you. He still liked to give you monster facts as he fucked you sometimes – as a treat.
Laios’s hands settled on your hips as you lifted yourself, positioning yourself above his cock. You wrapped your hand around his shaft to get the perfect angle, smearing his precum and making him hiss. “Did … did you know,” he said, voice strangled, “the maximum speed of a Red Dragon is approximately – oh, fuck – 60 kilometers per hour?”
“Mhmm …” You hummed, finally lowering yourself with his help, sinking down onto his cock slowly. Once he slipped a few inches inside your warm, wet walls, you both gasped. You placed your free hand on his chest and encouraged, “Tell me more, Laios.”
“Gods …” He breathed out, feeling your body quiver above him. “I … uh – fuck … people have theorized that changelings – shit – use their ability to change living things in order to propagate their species – fuck, almost there –”
You both let out a breath of relief once he was finally seated inside you. Laios sat up, tugging you more against him, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You stayed there for a moment, adjusting to his size once again, clinging to him as he kissed your cheek and murmured how you took him so well. You’d probably never get used to how big he was, but he filled you so nicely, so completely. After making sure you were comfortable, Laios decided to take the reins and began moving you on his cock. You whimpered after the first pass, and he had to grip your hips so tightly just to stop himself from going overboard, wanting to make this last just a little while longer. Each roll of your hips had you mewling as his cock curved inside you, brushing your spongy g-spot. His fingers dug into your skin, rocking you back and forth, grinding your already oversensitive clit against his pelvis. 
Burying your face into his neck, you let him start to bounce you on his cock. He groaned, feeling himself throb inside your tight heat. Everything about you was perfect: from the way you fit him inside of you so nicely to the way you whined against his skin, begging for more. He was thoroughly obsessed with you. It was a miracle that it took him so long to initiate with you after the Golden Kingdom had risen. He found himself thinking about your touch, about your taste, more often than not. And the way you smiled at him, your laughter sounding like wind chimes in a busy street market … he knew how deep his feelings went, farther than he expected. He was the King but you were the one who brought him to his knees every time.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he groaned, biting and sucking on the side of your neck. “You always feel so good … so warm …”
He started thrusting up into you when his arms got a little tired, and you let him simply take control. There was so little control he had in his life now, especially since he was being watched almost all the time, so you’d give him this – you’d give him you. And gods, did it feel good to just melt into him, to not be his sworn sword, just for a little while. Right now, you two were just lovers, desperate to soothe each other’s ache.
The expansive bedroom was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and moans echoing off the ceiling. Your arousal oozed out with each roll of your hips, dripping onto the lavish blankets befit for a King. But neither of you seemed to give a damn as his nails created crescent shapes in your hips, and you squeezed around him so much that he choked on a whimper. With your face nuzzling the crook of his neck, you carded your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly and eliciting another sound from him.
“Did you also know,” he began in a strained tone, “fuck – wargs have no fear of monsters larger than themselves – please, fuck – not even … not even dragons?”
“Are we still doing that?” You snorted, lifting your head from his neck.
He laughed along with you, and now you both were looking into each other’s eyes as he thrust up into you, hitting the best spots. He leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, moaning at the way you squirmed. His tongue moved to lick up the valley between your breasts, almost animalistic, before his mouth was grazing yours and his eyes were burning into you like melted gold. You clung onto him tighter, your chest flush against him, and you knew then that this wasn’t just fucking anymore. Laios was making love to you and you were making love to him and – fuck, he was going to make you cum so hard to make up for the past few weeks.
You were creating an absolute mess on top of him, just a blabbering heap of moans and whines, eyes locked on his as you rode him into oblivion. “I’m gonna cum,” you mewled, unable to keep your voice level. Your fingers tugged on his hair again, and he responded by downright slamming you up and down his thick cock.
“I know. It’s okay. I know.” One of his hands left your hip to reach in between your bodies, where you both were linked, and two fingers began to circle your clit. You hissed, back arching even more into him. Your vow to be quiet long forgotten as he teased your ache. “That’s it … there you go.”
Laios knew his strength, and it was certainly showing it off tonight. He was rocking your hips on his cock – so close to release – while rubbing your clit in tight circles. His sweet nothings in your ear had you crying out his name, and after a few more messy passes, you were cumming around him. You were shaking like fresh mandrake in his arms. Your walls squeezed him so tight that it only took one more thrust up into you before he was emptying himself into you. He came with a lewd groan, his hands falling to his sides and leaving you to bounce yourself on his cock through his release. Eventually, when the wave after wave of pleasure settled between you both, you slumped against him and breathed heavily. And he just held you, burying his face in your neck and licking at the bites he left on your bruised skin.
When you lifted your head to kiss him, he surprised you by rolling you onto your back, his soft cock slipping out and leaving you feeling empty. He kneeled at the end of the bed and spread your legs wide open, letting your combined releases spill out. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and the anguish in his tone stunned you. “It’s been weeks, and I just … I need you.”
As soon as the word, “Please,” left your lips, he was diving in again, spreading your folds with two fingers. He licked a long stripe through your pussy, gathering your releases on his tongue. He didn’t care that he was tasting his own cum; all he wanted was this – you. He lapped at you, still starving for your taste, and the way he had you cumming again was slow, calculated. Laios edged you, teetering you on the brink of release, before his hunger got the best of him. And when you came again on his tongue, it felt long and relaxing, like a weight had been lifted off you. Warmth seeped from your aching pussy and onto his tongue. He drank his fill, relishing in your sweetness.
Laios rose back on the bed, curling against your side like a tamed dire wolf. His arms slotted against you, pulling your naked front against his once again. His hand lifted to your cheek, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. Your noses brushed against each other, and he finally kissed you, slowly and passionately. There was no desperation left in him. It was replaced by the steady rhythm of his heart next to yours. 
“I love you, Laios,” you blurted in the softest voice you could muster. Once you realized what you said, you didn’t dare open your eyes to see his reaction. You simply felt him, his lips hovering just over yours, and then he hummed.
“I love you too,” he whispered, and your eyes opened to watch him. That dazed grin appeared once again, making your insides twist and your cheeks tinged pink.
Laios practically giggled and pecked your lips just to soothe your nerves. “I’m not sure how to handle you like this,” he joked, finally making you laugh with him. “Usually, you’re the one making me nervous.”
“I just …” You shook your head. “I was afraid you wouldn’t say it back.”
“I thought it was obvious that I’ve been in love with you since we first met,” he said in that straightforward tone of his. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones and he smiled. “Seems like I’m cooler than I thought.”
You chuckled, hitting his chest and making him fall back onto the bed. You were sitting up slightly, propping your elbow and resting your chin in your hand. Laios was looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky. Both of you knew, instinctively, that a King being intimate with his sworn protector was typically frowned upon. Neither of you truly cared, but the opinions of his people had to matter. He was a new King after all, and every move of his would be scrutinized. Which left him with one option.
Lacing his fingers with yours, he said, “We should get married.”
Your brow furrowed. “That seems a little rash.”
It was your gut instinct to deflect, to push him away, even when you scooted yourself closer to him. But you couldn’t deny that this had been in the back of your mind, shoved in the dark corners when you thought it might be too crazy of an idea. The first time it popped into your brain was when you saw Laios’s monster form lying helpless on the ground. His body was deteriorating, blood seeping out from every crevice of the three-headed creature. The Winged Lion had been defeated, but you couldn’t stop the wail that erupted from your mouth as you took in Laios’s monster body, reeking of death and despair. You remembered running from from the tower, taking one of the heads in your arms, and crying, your tears soaking the fur. 
But then you and Marcille found him amongst the trees of the island, where Falin’s body had been frozen and resting against a boulder. From the moment his eyes met yours, you had no doubt that this was your Laios. And he was okay. He was tired, but he was okay. You didn’t think you could shed any more tears, but then you were running towards him, wrapping your arms around him, and he was burying his face in your neck and – gods, that had to be when you knew. With the relief flooding through you and his arms embracing you … you knew then that you wanted to be with him forever. You didn’t want to see him in harm’s way ever again. You would kill – again and again – for him. You would be by his side as long as he would have you. You loved him. You wanted him. Forever.
Laios snorted, bringing you out of the memory. “Rash? After how long we’ve known each other?” His tone grew serious. “I trust you with my life. That’s why I named you my sword. But I don’t want to go weeks without you ever again. I love you – I’m in love with you – and I know that I don’t want anyone else by my side.” He squeezed your fingers in his own. “I want to marry you. And then, we can be together freely with you as my Queen and sword sword.” He then paused, thinking. “We can do that, right?”
You laughed. “You’re the King. You can make your own rules, but …” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip for a moment as you mulled over his words. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
“I’ve never been more certain about anything.” He then tapped his chin, feigning curiosity. “Unless you want me to marry Marcille? It would certainly be a loveless marriage, but she can be friendly when she isn’t advising me.”
Shaking you head, you flicked his arm. “Not sure if your sister would appreciate that. Or Marcille, for that matter.” Not even magic could force those two apart. They would love each other until the end of time.
Your eyes narrowed now. “Are you actually proposing to me without a ring, Your Grace?”
The formality made him cringe, but then his face relaxed as he stared up at you, taking in your beauty. You were the most beautiful like this, vulnerable and bare with your hair jutting out at every angle and your lips swollen from kissing him. But he’d reckon you were beautiful in every light. He couldn’t help but also think back to when you found him by Falin’s crystalized form, how it felt to just hold you again after such an egregious fight. Your warmth had seeped into him, reminding him of home. You were home. And that was when he knew, too, that he wanted to be bound to you. 
Laios brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles. “Once the sun rises, you will get a proper proposal. I’ve always been a man of my word, haven’t I?”
And that he was. Because the moment you stirred awake the next morning, still sleeping in his bed, you opened your eyes to find Laios, King of Golden Kingdom, kneeling at your bedside. He held out a ring to you, eagerly awaiting your response. Once your eyes adjusted to the light and you saw his golden doe eyes, his big grin, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Of course, you said, Yes.
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pomefioredove · 9 months ago
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Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series
Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC
I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff
He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly
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rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand
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parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending
summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^
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It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.
The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.
Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.
"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.
Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.
You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.
Did you miss NRC?
Well...
You missed your friends.
But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?
...Yeah. You could live without that.
Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.
The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.
If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.
A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.
But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.
Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.
...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.
Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)
And... it was nice. Is nice.
He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.
And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.
Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.
And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.
You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.
When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.
"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.
Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"
You nod. "Lots, yeah,"
"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.
You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.
"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"
"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.
Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"
"Um... yeah. I have,"
"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"
You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."
Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.
This time, you take the initiative.
"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"
The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"
"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."
You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"
A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"
You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.
"You really won't come back with us?"
You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"
The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.
The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.
"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.
You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.
"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"
"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"
"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"
"When are they coming back?"
"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"
Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.
You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...
He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"
And with that, he takes his leave.
Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.
You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.
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twisting-roads · 2 months ago
Text
DEBUNKING COMMON RAIN WORLD MISINTERPRETATIONS
The target audience for this was for people who don't know too much about the game as well, so I'm going to explain things that a normal player might already know.
Rain World is known for how it simply throws you into the world with almost no tutorial, and is often praised for it.
But this lack of explanation if you do not go out of your way to find it has also lead to a lot of misinterpretations from those who did not read all the game’s available information, or misunderstood what they were being told. I used to watch some RW lore videos that would explain and summarize these things, and in the past I believed them.
I’ve since stopped doing that after having some time to actually process what I’ve been reading, and I’m here to say...
YOU ARE ALL WRONG ABOUT RAIN WORLD.
Ok, hyperbole. Not everyone believes these, and art can always be interpreted in different ways by different people, and I won’t stop you from having these beliefs. But also, there’s plenty of ingame content which completely disproves most of these unsubstantiated points from those who do not fully research the game before making videos about it.
Looking at you Tale Foundry…
The purpose of this is to pick apart some of the sadly far too common points I’ve heard many times before from Youtube videos, to Tumblr posts, to people I’ve spoken to on Discord.
Starting with my least favorite…
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“The 5 karma were seen as sinful”
Obvious westernization of a game based off fucking Buddhism aside, there’s no ingame text directly supporting this claim. There isn’t any that says otherwise, but we have good reason to believe this isn’t the case.
The 5 natural urges, as they’re sometimes called, were NATURAL. They were what bound you to the cycle. They never worsened your life or made you a terrible person should you keep following them, but an aspect of life on the same level as suffering or ecstasy.
Hey, I’ll break down the 5 karma and their meanings to show you that they're not just "sins"
I believe the natural urges have 2 different meanings: an animalistic one, and a more “human” one.
KARMA 1 This obviously represents violence, as you see one guy stabbing the other. I believe it also represents competition and intense emotions, For example: Artificer experiencing intense grief and lashing out in violence as a result. It was not the violence that started it, but her emotions. (Yes, its Downpour. But it’s a good point.)
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KARMA 2
They’re having sex. They’re fucking. They’re- ok you get it. Karma 2 represents reproduction. But, I also believe it’s desire. Joyful bodily experiences, and such. The 2 figures seen here are in a much more playful pose than if they were simply doing this only to reproduce. No, they’re having fun.
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KAMRA 3 Connection. Bonding with others. Yet also trade and personal belongings. Attachment to things that are not yourself.
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KARMA 4 It’s mentioned ingame that this represents gluttony It’s overindulgence, you know. Similarly to karma 2, it can also be searching for fulfillment. I'm not particularly good at telling what the meaning of this could be.
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KARMA 5 Self preservation. Self preservation can come in many forms, from an animal running away from a predator or somebody getting defensive after being accused of something or being threatened, this one is rather vague about its meaning.
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I do this to show that the 5 urges have very NEUTRAL meanings. It being positive or negative is entire dependant on context. They’re not sinful, get out of here with that Catholic shit!
The 5 karmas have both positive, negative, and neutral contexts which they can fit into.
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“The ancients hated being alive”
The ancients simply hated the cycle itself and its unknowable properties, as well as being much more aware of things like karma and the urges. Rather, they valued being effortless to disconnect themselves from this cycle.
“This was an eternal dilemma to them - they were burdened by great ambition, yet deeply convinced that striving in itself was an unforgivable vice. They tried very hard to be effortless.” – Bright Green Pearl (DS)
Some practices did of course include things like starving yourself, but as mentioned by Moon, these methods proved to be mostly obsolete. Void Fluid fundamentally changed their culture from what we see. Rather, we do see the ancients enjoying life and valuing it in their own way, which is INCREDIBLY important to some of the games themes, but I’ll get into that later.
"[...]'In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids[…] Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane.The assorted memories and qualia include:Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest, and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).’...and the list goes on. I'm sorry, little creature, I won't read all of this - the list is six hundred and twenty items long.” – Deep Magenta (SH)
There’s quite a lot to pick apart here, I had to cut down some parts short, but even the cut parts have important details. Just not important enough for me to bring up here.
The Memory Crypts we see ingame are… well where memories are kept. The qualia (personalized experiences) is stored within these mutated fleshy neural organisms referred to as “cabinet beasts”. These of course, contain the “living memories” or qualia of those who have ascended. There are people smarter than me who have already covered these ideas of course, so I won't go TOO indepth.
The ancients greatly valued titles and achievements just as us. They still lived normal lives. As well as this, they valued personal experiences and memories of the carnal realm so much they built an entire citadel to store memories.
As we can see as well, Seventeen Axes has quite a lot of enjoyable memories from throughout their life. Eating nice food and winning a debate contest and getting validation from their peers? That sounds rather… complacent with the 3rd and 4th natural urges, doesn’t it?
I do not believe this screams “I hate being alive!” as much as people have made it out to be, and is honestly ruins part of the game’s messages of compassion and personalized experiences, especially in the game’s ending where Survivor dreams of home.
“You have no name. I once had! I was embalmed, adorned, readied for the journey. So proud. There was jubilation! My name was sung, loud and clear. Did they know? That I didn't quite leave, didn't quite stay? Should I be ashamed? That I linger here, where my memories are kept? Should I be ashamed that I now envy your flesh prison?” - Four Needles under Plentiful Leaves
This is leaning into personal theory territory, but...
I personally believe that the ancients were somewhat terrified of the unpredictability of the cycle and the fact that life would always have more suffering in it.
RW’s religion is heavily based off Buddhism. This is well known of course. The Cycle is a variation of Samsara. Now, I’m not Buddhist, and I’ve tried to do my research about some of these topics. Feel free to correct me, I’m simply going off what I know. (Also I'd love to hear what you have to say regarding your thoughts on the game!)
In Buddhism, each new life you could be taken into the body of an animal, or even end up being tortured in hell for a very, very, VERY long time if you made the wrong decisions, which made escaping it as soon as you could seem like a rather reasonable thing to do.
The ancients never fully grasped the scope of the cycle, and the prospects of having your soul wake up in the body of some miserable worm with no memory of your past or any ideas of your future might’ve seemed bleak.
Suffering is inevitable. But that doesn’t mean they hated being alive, like I said before.
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“Rain World is post-apocalyptic.”
It really isn’t. There was never any apocalypse. The ancients simply left on their own accord, leaving behind their mark on the world that will slowly be buried once again in the ever so present cycle.
“The bones of forgotten civilizations, heaped like so many sticks.” - Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets
The world is thriving, even. The purposed organisms left behind have evolved and taken over and become it’s own ecosystem.
The iterators are dying though. Dying very slowly, but soon they’ll all decay and everything will move on.
It’s all just another manifestation of the cycle.
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“The creatures in Rain World cannot die”
This is definitely something I hear from people who haven’t played much of the game and only hear about it from outside sources and watch the gameplay.
Yes, it is easy to believe this. As slugcat, when you die, you wake back up again. This is entirely a gameplay thing and not actually related to the lore. Saying this might seem like I'm avoiding the question at hand here, but the rules that apply to you do not seem to apply to other creatures.
Every creature in the game has a 4 integer ID (it can go higher, but not in a standard playthrough).
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This makes every creature you see an individual of sorts with its own randomized values or appearance.
As well as this, creatures spawn from specific marked dens. When you kill a creature that spawns from a certain den, the next cycle, that creature’s ID will never appear again. Instead, the den spawn is replaced by a creature of the same species with a different ID, or a new species entirely.
Through gameplay, you see that the respawn rules that apply to you do not apply to other creatures. I’ve heard many points about how these dead creatures are transported to another alternate universe where they are alive, but I really do not want to delve into that theory. You do that yourself.
Excuse my unprofessional language, but this is kind of stupid. Billions and billions of little timeline splits accounting for every single insect and microbe that dies seems far too complex of a solution. Occam's Razor and all that.
With this gameplay element you see, I also want to give LORE explanations as to why this is incredibly stupid.
1) If death had no impact, the 5 natural urges would not matter
If no creatures died, there would be no point in eating (karma 4), competing with other species (karma 1), or any form of self preservation (karma 5). Reproduction (karma 2) has no role and there would be absolutely no reason to do anything any longer. All natural processes would be useless.
2) Light Blue Pearl
The information received from the cycle is most likely from the Light Blue Pearl, found in Outskirts.
“[...]The repeating mantra is important because it symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, and the termination verse is a symbol for ascension above and beyond it. I don't know how familiar you are with the nature of life and death, but I imagine like all living creatures you have some intuitive knowledge? Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring. Some ramble in agonizing longevity. But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not. This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.”
“Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring.“
This line is very misunderstood. Moon specifically mentions birth and death. She mentions death. She never brings up the notion that nothing truly dies either.
As well as this, Moon says that “some say”, implying that even the ancients weren’t sure what the cycle was either. This is more important to my point regarding how the unfathomable nature of the cycle was why the Ancients were so averse to it from above, though.
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“Sliver of Straw found the solution.”/"There is/isn't solution"
No she didn’t.
.
.
Ok fine I’ll explain.
If you’ve played Rain World you know that the purpose of the iterators is to find the solution to the “Great Problem”, the problem of how to ascend ALL living creatures.
You’ll also know Sliver sent out the Triple Affirmative…
“[...]affirmative that a solution has been found, affirmative that the solution is portable, and affirmative that a technical implementation is possible and generally applicable. She's also one of few that has ever been confirmed as exhaustively incapacitated, or dead. We do not die easily.[…]” - Pale Yellow (SL)
After sending out this affirmative, the iterators became conflicted. They never could figure out if she really ascended and had found the solution, or if it was some sort of catastrophic error.
The answer to the Great Problem is clearly intended to be as obscured as possible. There cannot be an answer one way or the other. The themes of it and the endless tolling of the iterators would not be as impactful if we knew there was or wasn’t a solution.
“[...]Either way, after that these different factions developed, as well as a huge forensic effort to recreate and simulate Sliver of Straw's last moments. Some of the simulations were wrapped in a simulation wrapped in a simulation, in case something dangerous might happen. Nothing much has come from it.[…]“ - Pale Yellow (SL)
Here’s my favorite way of explaining what I mean…
Imagine Schrodinger's Cat, the famous thought experiment. There’s a 50/50 chance that when you open the box, you either find the Solution, or find out there is No Solution.
Except you cannot open the box. And the box is entirely theoretical and nobody’s seen it. It seems impossible, but maybe one day you’ll find that box. That’s what the Great Problem is.
Sliver apparently having found the solution would have completely broken everything. Five Pebbles wouldn’t have ended up hurting himself and Moon had Sliver finding the solution been known with certainty. He was taking a shot in the dark.
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“Ascension is akin to suicide.”
I strongly believe this point harms the role that ascension and the void sea play in Rain World’s narrative. Ascension is meant to be a final destination, a goal you build up to and prepare for when you’ve lived every bit of life you possible could, and can now move on.
Bringing up the Memory Crypt pearl from earlier, Seventeen Axes lived an incredibly fulfilling life from what we see, and ascended happily.
As well as this, Buddhism strongly encourages those who wish to liberate themselves to discover their own path, which is also subtly shown through the gameplay, as there are many many routes you can take to Five Pebbles, Looks To The Moon, and The Depths.
I do also think this is why Five Pebbles failed. He tried to brute force his way to ascension.
Suicide implies that ascension is only meant to be a fruitless escape and that it’s wrong to ascend. I… do not want to go into why suicide is bad. It’s a strong topic and I’m just here to talk about video games. But ascension is a neutral thing that you can choose to do or not do and to wait until you’re ready.
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Conclusion...
I really only have the time to cover these 6 misconceptions, and I believe it should be enough. There have been many others I’ve seen, such as the ancients being malicious or that there weren’t any civilizations before them, but there’s not as much to say about them, and they aren’t as common.
Rain World is a very confusing game. I’m not upset at people who think these things to be true, and I do not believe they’re stupid or don’t have any media literacy. I just wish that the people who did actually cover this game did some more looking into it, and actually discussing it with Rain World fans.
Also I should say, that during this entire discussion I have avoided talking about Downpour- RW’s DLC- as it’s more of a official fanmade project. And so much of what it says may not be entirely in line with Vanilla. Because my life isn’t easy and of course there has to be an incredibly divisive and confusing thing like this that I need to avoid bringing up so that way the conversation isn’t muddled.
Thanks if you managed to make it through all this by the way
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pbaz7 · 5 days ago
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AGAINST THE TIDE: PART NINE
paige x azzi
word count: 6.4k
A/N: Alright I’m feeling much better and I’m no longer losing my shit after CD said she wouldn’t call it an injury 🙂‍↕️. Here’s the next chapter! It’s a little rough at the beginning but just get through it trust me . Please leave live reacts if you can, I need a little extra motivation today 😭
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October 2022
For weeks after their argument, Paige kept her word. She stayed true to her role as Azzi’s best friend and was there anytime the younger girl needed her, it didn’t matter what she was doing, she was there. She did make Azzi stop coming with her to physical therapy though, and Nika had stepped in to take her place. Physical therapy always got a little too intimate when they’d ask whoever accompanied Paige to push on her knee and Paige knew that she and Azzi couldn’t handle that right now. They still spent time together–Paige helping Azzi in the gym here and there, texting during the day, hanging out sporadically, studying–but everything had changed. There were clear lines now. They didn’t flirt, they didn’t touch in ways that meant anything more than friendship. It was as though they were back to where they started, but it was painfully different.
Paige had started hanging out more with Ice, the freshman who quickly became a source of amusement for her. Ice's humor was dry and a little corny, and Paige found herself genuinely laughing more than she had since her and Azzi ended things. If that’s what you would call it. But even with Ice’s company, there were still moments when she couldn’t help but think about Azzi. It wasn’t that she didn’t love their friendship now, but it didn’t fill the large space Azzi once occupied when they were clearly more than friends.
Ice leaned back in her chair, her expression one of pure disbelief. “That’s bullshit. I refuse to believe there was a point when you and Azzi didn’t like each other.”
Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, we couldn’t stand each other. Every little thing she did annoyed me and she hated me honestly.”
Ice raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And now look at you, a full-blown simp. How the tables have turned.”
Paige rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”
“So how’d you two even get past that?” Ice asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. “Like, how’d you go from ‘can’t stand each other’ to…” she gestured vaguely, “this?”
Paige’s laugh softened, and she shrugged. “The gym, mostly. We kinda connected over basketball first. That was the one thing we could agree on. At first, we only talked about basketball—nothing else. But once we built a decent foundation of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds, we started hanging out more. It just…happened from there.”
Ice nodded thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Why don’t you just do that again this time then?”
Paige gave her a look. “We don’t need to build a foundation, Ice. She’s still my best friend.”
“Righttt,” Ice said, dragging out the word with heavy sarcasm. “Your best friend that you’re in love with, and you haven’t seen in like five days.”
Paige rolled her eyes again, though a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “We text.”
Ice snorted. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”
Paige shrugged again, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s just… a little hard to be around each other sometimes now.”
Ice narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
Paige didn’t answer, but the grin on her face grew wider, her expression practically glowing with unspoken thoughts.
Ice groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. “Ew, dude. You’re disgusting.”
Paige just laughed, grabbing a basketball nearby and bouncing it lightly off Ice’s arm. “Shut up.”
But as the laughter faded, Paige’s expression softened, her smile dimming into something more thoughtful. “Honestly though, Azzi just needs some space from me to figure things out, and I’m trying to give her that.”
Ice tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Space for what?”
Paige hesitated, her fingers idly spinning the basketball in her lap. She glanced away briefly before answering, her tone careful and measured. “She has a lot of internal things to figure out before she can even think about being with me. I realized it a while ago but I don’t know if she has.”
Ice’s brow furrowed, but she nodded slowly. “That sounds… rough.”
“It is,” Paige admitted, her voice quieter now. “But she’s worth it. So I’m giving her what she needs.”
Ice studied her for a moment, then leaned back with a small smile. “Damn P, you really love her, huh?”
Paige didn’t even flinch. She met Ice’s gaze, a soft but unwavering certainty in her eyes. “Yeah, I do.”
Ice smirked, her teasing tone returning. “You’re still a simp, though.”
Paige groaned, chucking the basketball at her again, though the grin tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Shut up, Ice.”
November 2022
The next month was much harder than Paige thought it would be. Between missing Azzi and being sidelined by her injury and not being able to start the season with the team, she felt like she was drowning most days. Basketball, her usual escape, was no longer an option. Instead, she found herself in the gym, not to work out but to just sit in the silence, wishing she could push her body for hours on end. But eventually she’d get too frustrated when all she could do was shoot a few flat footed shots and she'd just let herself cry in the empty gym until she didn’t have any more energy. Other times, she’d just sit in her car, staring ahead, trying to calm her thoughts. More than once, she ended up sick at the sight of the back seat—a painful reminder of what, and who, was missing.
Azzi wasn’t doing much better. She’d become a mirror of who Paige used to be, burying herself in the gym day and night, trying to outrun her thoughts. Paige was still there for her, though, which made Azzi feel like even more of an ass, having somebody as sweet as Paige, just waiting for her to get her shit together. When things were a little too hard and Azzi would come to her door with tear stained eyes in the middle of the night Paige always let her in, let her talk about whatever she needed to or just sleep. The first time it happened was a random Tuesday at 3am.
Azzi’s knocks were gentle and tentative at first but it was enough for Paige to stir, her mind still fuzzy from sleep as the knock came again, a little louder this time. She groggily threw off her blanket and shuffled to the door, blinking against the dim hallway light cascading from the bottom of the door.
When she opened it, Azzi stood there, her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen, as though the weight of the world had poured out of her. There were no words, no explanations, just a look that said everything, Paige didn’t ask, she just stepped aside, letting Azzi into the warmth of the room. Azzi’s shoulders were trembling, but she didn’t speak, her chest rising and falling in slow uneven breaths. Paige closed the door softly behind her, then walked back to her bed, sinking back into the mattress where Azzi now laid, holding one of Paige’s pillows close.
Paige reached over, draping her arm against Azzi’s torso as she pulled her closer but not quite cuddling her. Just enough to let Azzi know she wasn’t alone as Paige’s eyes fluttered shut drifting back to sleep.
After that night Paige couldn’t imagine not being there for Azzi, knowing what she was struggling with. But things weren’t the same. They didn’t text everyday anymore, and their hangouts had all but stopped after it became clear that they didn’t really know how to be just friends anymore. The space between them, once so easy to close, now felt like an endless stretch.
Azzi blamed herself for what happened between them. She was constantly fighting an internal battle that seemed like a losing game. One part of her knew exactly how she felt about Paige, knew she wanted the older girl more than anything. The other half was a constant pull against this thought process. The part of her brain that was telling her she wasn’t the type of person who takes risks like this, she didn’t gamble her future that she had worked so hard for. Constantly in her own ear telling herself she had every right to be scared.
Now, Paige sat alone in the empty gym, her legs stretched out in front of her, a basketball resting at her feet. She knew she couldn’t play much, just dribble around and shoot here and there, so she came here to think, to feel some semblance of peace. The quiet of the gym was comforting, even if it couldn’t heal what was broken, only Azzi could do that.
The sound of the door opening broke the silence. Paige glanced up to see Azzi standing there, her figure framed by the dim gym lights. Azzi paused, stuck in the doorway. The sight of Paige, lost in thought, felt all too familiar, stirring memories of another time they’d both hesitated to bridge the distance between them.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, both caught in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Paige chuckled softly at the irony, breaking the tension, and nudged the ball with her foot, sending it rolling toward Azzi.
Azzi’s lips curved into a small smile as she stepped inside, picking up the ball. She hesitated again, glancing at Paige, before making her way over. She sat down beside her but left enough space between them to keep the air light, uncertain. Neither of them spoke right away, the quiet wrapping around them like a truce.
Paige was the first to break the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “You played like shit last game.”
Azzi blinked, then burst out laughing, the unexpectedness of Paige’s comment catching her off guard. “Shit is an understatement,” she admitted, shaking her head.
Paige smirked, leaning back slightly. “What’d you come here to work on?”
Azzi shrugged, a noncommittal gesture. “Anything, I guess.”
Paige hummed thoughtfully as she got to her feet, grabbing the ball. Ice’s words from October echoing in her mind now. She spun the ball between her hands, glancing at Azzi. “Why you been taking so long to shoot lately?”
Azzi crossed her arms, tilting her head. “The passes are all over the place,” she said simply. “I got used to you hitting me in stride so it’s a big adjustment.”
Paige paused, nodding as she processed Azzi’s words. There was a quiet understanding in the air—an acknowledgment of how much they relied on each other, on and off the court.
By now, Azzi had stood up, her eyes tracking the ball as Paige passed it casually between her hands. Paige grinned. “Let’s work on it.”
Azzi raised a brow, confused. “Work on what?”
Paige laughed, her grin widening. “I’m about to throw you some of the worst passes of your life, and you’re gonna work on shooting without taking too much time to adjust the ball.”
Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her feet were already carrying her toward the court.
Before they began, Azzi paused and looked at Paige. “I miss you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.
Paige’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her face. “I miss you too, Az,” she replied, her tone equally tender. Then, without missing a beat, she threw Azzi an intentionally terrible pass, the ball veering off to the side.
Azzi barely managed to catch it, quickly gathering herself for the shot, but the ball clanged off the rim.
Paige smirked. “Not bad. Now do it faster and try making it next time.”
Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. They fell into an easy rhythm after that, Paige throwing increasingly awful passes, and Azzi working to shoot without hesitation. Laughter echoed through the gym when the passes were too bad to catch, blending with the rhythmic sound of the ball hitting the hardwood.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like they were back in sync—no words needed, just the game and each other.
The rhythm they had fallen into was effortless, the sound of Azzi’s playlist flowing through the speakers now as they worked on her shot. Laughter occasionally filled the gym, the tension from the past weeks melting away with every pass and shot.
That is, until the music cut off, replaced by the ring of an incoming call.
Azzi, mid-dribble, glanced toward her phone sitting on the floor. “Can you check who it is?” she asked Paige, who was closer.
Paige hesitated for a moment before walking over. She glanced at the screen, the name flashing boldly. Her jaw tightened ever so slightly, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. Paige cleared her throat. “Somebody named Elle,” she said, her tone a little too neutral.
Azzi didn’t miss the shift in Paige’s posture or the way her eyes flicked away from the phone. She didn’t need Paige to say anything; she could see the wheels turning in her head.
“It’s not what you think, Paige,” Azzi said, her voice firm but gentle.
Paige shook her head, brushing it off with a forced smile. “No, Azzi, you don’t have to explain—”
“Paige,” Azzi cut her off, stepping closer. “She’s my partner for a project. That’s it.”
Paige looked down, her fingers grazing the edge of her shirt. “It’s fine if it was something else you know,” she said softly, though the words felt hollow even to her.
“No, it isn’t,” Azzi said firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt in Paige’s mind. “It isn’t fine because I don’t want anybody else. I only want you, Paige. I’ve told you that, and I mean it.”
Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly, guilt flashing across her face. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it’s not really my place.”
Azzi stepped even closer, her eyes searching Paige’s. “It is your place,” she said, her voice softer now. “So you don’t need to apologize.”
Paige glanced at her, caught in the sincerity of Azzi’s gaze. The tension in the air softened, the weight between them shifting back into something warm and steady.
“Okay,” Paige finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Azzi nodded, giving her a small smile. “Good. Now come back over here—I’m not done getting used to these terrible passes.”
Paige chuckled despite herself, picking up the ball. And just like that, they found their rhythm again, though the words exchanged lingered, a quiet reassurance binding them closer.
After finishing up in the gym, both of them grabbed their things and headed out. Paige made her way toward her car, expecting Azzi to follow. But when she glanced over her shoulder, she noticed Azzi strolling casually along the sidewalk.
Paige frowned, stopping in her tracks. “What are you doing?” she called out.
Azzi glanced back with a small shrug. “I didn’t drive.”
Paige’s eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of offense and exasperation flashing across her face. “You thought I was going to let you walk?” she said, her tone incredulous.
Azzi chuckled but didn’t respond, her smile widening as Paige simply muttered, “Unbelievable.”
With a grin, Azzi turned and walked toward Paige’s car. Paige muttered under her breath the whole time, just loud enough for Azzi to hear. “She’s gotta be crazy. Can’t believe she thought I’d let her walk. Who does she think I am?”
When they reached the car, Paige yanked open the passenger door, motioning for Azzi to get in. Azzi stepped in with a laugh, and Paige shut the door with more force than necessary, her irritation over something so small almost comical.
By the time Paige slid into the driver’s seat, Azzi was grinning at her. “I miss how dramatic you are,” she teased, still laughing softly.
Paige shot her a glare as she started the car. “You give me a fucking headache Azzi,” she said, but there was no bite to her words.
When they arrived back at the dorms, Paige’s suite came up first. She slowed to a stop, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning toward Azzi.
“Night,” Paige said, already halfway to the door.
Azzi nodded but didn’t keep walking. “Paige,” she called, her voice stopping Paige in her tracks.
Paige turned back, raising an eyebrow slightly, her curiosity piqued. “Yeah?”
Azzi hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly. “I’ve been thinking…can we maybe talk tomorrow?”
Paige blinked, her confusion evident, but she nodded. “Yeah… of course,” she said, her tone cautious.
Azzi’s smile widened a little , though she didn’t offer any explanation. “I’ll text you,” she said simply.
Paige gave her a small smile in return. “Okay. Goodnight, Az.”
“Goodnight, P,” Azzi replied, her voice quiet but warm as she turned to walk toward her own suite.
Paige lingered for a second, watching Azzi’s retreating figure, her mind swirling with questions. Finally, she shook her head and headed inside, her thoughts lingering on the way Azzi had looked at her just now.
The next day, around 1 PM, Paige’s phone buzzed with a text from Azzi.
💗: You hungry? Let’s grab some food
Paige smiled at the message, typing a quick reply.
P 💗: Yeah that works for me
It didn’t take long for Azzi to reply.
💗: We’re taking my car.
Paige frowned slightly, shooting back a quick question mark.
P 💗: ?
The response came almost immediately.
💗: I almost threw up in your car yesterday when Steve Lacy came on
Paige let out a loud laugh, immediately understanding what Azzi was referring to as she had her own struggles being in there sometimes. She shook her head, typing back with a smirk.
P 💗: That’s dramatic, even for you
Azzi’s reply was short but effective.
💗: Not taking any chances
Still chuckling, Paige grabbed her things, her mood lighter than it had been in days. Azzi always had a way of pulling her out of her head, even with something as simple as sending a few texts.
They sat down at a corner table, the comforting hum of the restaurant around them as they ate their Chipotle bowls. The familiar, easy chatter filled the space between them yesterday being what they needed to return to the natural rhythm of their friendship, the laughter, and the simple joy of each other's company.
But, as the conversation slowly died down, Azzi looked at Paige, her expression shifting slightly.
“I want us to start over,” Azzi said quietly, her voice soft but serious.
Paige blinked, furrowing her brow. “Start over? What do you mean?”
Azzi took a deep breath, clearly trying to find the right words. “I want us to try this again, but—” she paused, trying to make sure she found the right words. “I want us to do it the right way this time.”
Paige tilted her head, her confusion evident but her tone gentle with Azzi like always. “Azzi, what are you saying?”
Azzi’s gaze was unwavering as she leaned forward slightly, the space between them feeling more intimate. “I want us to date, Paige,” she said, her voice steady.
Paige’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before a soft, teasing smile tugged at her lips. “So... you want to be my girlfriend now?”
Azzi hesitated, her fingers tapping gently against the edge of the table. “No…at least not yet,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “I want us to go on dates and test the waters. We did things the wrong way, and I want to fix it.”
Paige’s eyes softened as a slow smile began to form on her lips. She leaned forward slightly, clearly proud of Azzi. “Tell me more about it.”
Azzi smiled at the shift in Paige’s expression, the spark of curiosity now in her eyes. “We can go on dates,” Azzi continued, her voice steady as she outlined her plan she thought a lot about. “But I’m not going to let you kiss me until we have a few dates. And we’re not going to have sex for a while, or we’re going to at least try really hard not to. I want us to get to know each other as two people dating, not just best friends who happen to be doing this.”
Paige nodded, as she listened to her. She hadn’t expected Azzi to say something like this when she asked her to lunch today, but it made sense for her. It was a different approach, one that felt like it had the potential to be something more controlled. Something more grounded. Which is exactly what Azzi needed.
“So, where’s this coming from?” Paige asked, her voice low with curiosity but also a touch of tenderness. “I thought you were—”
Azzi cut her off, her gaze soft but unwavering. “Despite what you think, Paige,” she said quietly, “I’m in love with you. These past few weeks have done nothing but show me that. I’m still scared as hell, but I want to at least try.”
Paige swallowed, her heart beating a little faster at the sincerity in Azzi’s voice. She really hadn’t expected this, she expected Azzi to try to mend their friendship, try to get back to their usual routine of hanging out. But the more Paige thought about it she understood. Azzi was always so detailed and plan oriented. She always needed steps and checkpoints to ease her mind, to let her see the progress she was making.
“I’m not asking for anything,” Azzi continued, her voice a little shaky now that Paige hadn’t said much. “I just want to start fresh. I want us to really try.”
Paige leaned back slightly, her arms folded across her chest as she processed Azzi’s words. The weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been left unsaid, hung heavily in the air. She couldn’t help but hesitate, uncertainty creeping in despite the hope in her chest.
“How do I know you’re not just going to change your mind again?” Paige asked, her voice quiet. She wanted to believe Azzi, wanted to dive into this with her, but it was hard to shake that lingering fear of being hurt again.
Azzi didn’t flinch at the question. She just looked at Paige, with a calmness that her voice conveyed when she answered. “You don’t,” she said simply. “That’s the thing I had to get over. We don’t really know what’s going to happen. That’s been my fear this whole time. Not knowing. Not being in control of it. But we never know what’s going to happen at any point in life so.”
Paige’s gaze softened, and she nodded slowly, taking in what Azzi was saying. But Azzi wasn’t done, and she shifted slightly, her hands in her lap as she continued.
“I was talking to my mom the other day,” Azzi began, her voice quieter now, but still with a hint of vulnerability. “And she tried to make me laugh by asking who shat in my breakfast. But honestly, it just made me cry more than anything.”
Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly how Katie could be. “Figures,” she said with a soft smile, her heart lifting slightly at the mention of Azzi’s mom.
Azzi smiled too, but the smile was fleeting, and the seriousness returned quickly. “Yeah. But... I told her everything that’s been going on. All of it. How I feel about you. About us.” She paused, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. “Some parts of the story shocked her, honestly. I thought she was going to yell at me, but she didn’t. She just listened.”
Paige’s eyes widened a little, a surprise settling in her chest. She hadn’t expected that. For Azzi to talk to her mom about them already? It was a huge step. It made her heart skip a little—an odd mix of pride and tenderness swelling inside her knowing Azzi had come out to her mom.
“How... how did it go?” Paige asked softly, unsure of how to phrase the question but needing to know. She could sense how much this conversation had meant to Azzi.
Azzi’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. “It was fine. Perfectly fine, actually,” she said, her voice steady now. “I thought it was going to be hard, but... she already kind of knew. I mean, she’s not blind. She said she could tell something was going on, especially with how much time you spend at our place whenever we’re on break. She thought it was pretty obvious.”
Paige blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought Katie would pick up on that. “Really?”
Azzi nodded, her gaze soft but thoughtful. “Yeah. She’s always been good at reading me, even when I’m not saying anything. We were talking for a while after I explained everything... she said something that kinda struck a nerve.” Azzi’s voice lowered again, a little more humor to it. “She was explaining some stupid metaphor that I could never understand, and she said life is all about taking chances. Usually, the best ones—the ones that really matter—are the ones that scare us the most.”
Azzi’s eyes met Paige’s, and there was something raw, something real, in the way she looked at her. “And you scare the hell out of me, Paige,” she said quietly, her words filled with sincerity. “So that’s exactly why I can’t just let us pass by. I can’t keep living in the ‘what ifs.’ I’ve been too afraid, and I’m tired of being afraid.”
Finally, Paige let out a deep breath and reached across the table, her hand finding Azzi’s with a gentle squeeze. “I’m scared too,” Paige admitted softly.
Azzi’s eyes softened, and she squeezed Paige’s hand in return, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not asking for anything more than what I said. I just want to try, Paige. I want us to take it slow, to get to know each other again and see where it goes.”
Paige’s smile was small but genuine, her heart fluttering at the thought of what could be. “Okay. We’ll try,” she said, the words feeling right. “We’ll take it slow.”
Azzi’s smile mirrored hers, though it was still laced with vulnerability.
This is how, a few days later, Paige and Azzi were on their first date.
Azzi had initially tried to take the reins, attempting to plan every detail, but Paige quickly vetoed the idea, claiming she’d been waiting for months to make this happen. Azzi didn’t even try to argue with that logic.
Now, they were on their way to a mystery destination Paige refused to disclose, with music filling the car. The ride was easy, lighthearted, and full of laughter—until Azzi reached out and skipped another Steve Lacy song.
Paige couldn’t help but laugh, glancing over at her. “What? Are we never listening to the album again?”
Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t entirely hide the amused glint in her eyes. “Not for a long time, we’re not,” she retorted firmly, her voice dripping with mocking distress.
Paige only chuckled as they pulled into a parking lot. Azzi’s curiosity grew as she turned her attention ahead, her brow furrowing slightly until recognition dawned. Her lips curved into a wide grin.
“You brought me to the fair?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
Paige glanced at her, her own smile soft but proud. “Yeah. Dinner’s boring,” she said simply, shrugging as if it was the most obvious decision in the world.
Azzi laughed, her eyes sparkling as she shook her head. “Of course you’d think that.”
Paige leaned back in her seat, looking out at the glowing lights of the fairground. “Come on, big head,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.
Their date was going amazingly. Azzi, naturally, made Paige get her a funnel cake, ignoring Paige’s protests as she tore off a piece and practically forced it into Paige’s mouth. Paige grumbled but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.
As the night went on, it became obvious that Paige was annoyingly good at everything. Every time Azzi swore Paige was about to lose a game, Paige proved her wrong. Neither of them wanted any of the prizes, so Paige made a habit of giving them away, handing stuffed animals and trinkets to random kids. The two of them would watch as the kids ran off, bouncing with excitement, leaving Azzi shaking her head at how effortlessly charming Paige could be with all ages.
Now, they were strolling through the fair, Paige’s arm casually draped over Azzi’s shoulder while Azzi leaned into her side, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like the glowing lights of the fairground. But their quiet bubble burst when a small fan recognized Paige.
The fan approached cautiously, smiling nervously. “Hey, Paige, can I get a quick picture?”
Paige offered a warm smile. “Of course.”
After the fan snapped a picture with Paige, they hesitated before turning to Azzi. “Um, can I get one with you too Azzi?”
Azzi blinked in surprise before smiling and nodding. “Sure.”
Once the pictures were taken and the fan left with a cheerful wave, Paige’s attention shifted, her eyes catching sight of something in the distance. “Oh my god,” she muttered, her face lighting up as she grabbed Azzi’s hand.
“What?” Azzi asked, laughing at Paige’s sudden enthusiasm.
Paige didn’t answer, pulling her toward the basketball booth, where a massive Olaf stuffed animal sat on display. “It’s too good to be true,” she said, practically bouncing with excitement.
When they reached the booth, Paige handed the worker some tickets. He explained the rules, telling her she needed to make three out of five shots to win. Paige nodded and stepped up to the line drawn on the concrete.
But the worker held up a hand. “Nah, I know who you are. You gotta scoot back,” he said with a grin.
Paige laughed, stepping back as Azzi chuckled beside her. “Uh oh, the pressures on now,” Azzi teased.
Paige made the first four shots with ridiculous ease, defying the odds of the notoriously rigged carnival game. As she took her time with each shot a small crowd had gathered to watch her, but Paige was unfazed.
The worker let her take the fifth shot just for fun, even though she’d already won. Azzi, standing to the side, couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’re such a show-off,” she said, crossing her arms with a smirk.
Paige, knowing full well Azzi secretly loved it, grinned as she lined up the last shot. Without breaking eye contact with Azzi, she released the ball. The ball going in.
Azzi rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re irritating.”
Paige strolled over to the worker, who handed her the massive Olaf. Without hesitation, Paige turned and placed it into Azzi’s arms.
“This one’s yours,” Paige said with a confident grin.
Azzi looked down at the stuffed Olaf and then back at Paige, her expression softening. “You’re cute, you know that?”
Paige just smiled at her, as she felt a tap on her lower back seeing a little girl with a huge smile on her face.
After Paige and Azzi finished taking pictures with a few fans who had crowded around to watch Paige play the game, she and Azzi resumed walking through the fairground, their steps in sync. Paige’s arm once again draped casually over Azzi’s shoulder, the familiar, comforting ease of their connection returning.
They walked in silence for a few moments, but the air between them was full of understanding. They didn’t need to fill every moment with words—just the presence of each other was enough.
When they reached the car, Paige opened the door for Azzi like always. Azzi smiled, appreciating the gesture every time Paige does it, before sliding into the passenger seat. Paige walked around the front of the car, slipping into the driver’s side. She took a moment to glance over at Azzi, who was still holding the Olaf stuffie, her eyes soft but smiling.
Paige gave a small smirk as she started the engine, teasing, “You’re actually keeping it, huh?”
Azzi rolled her eyes playfully, adjusting the stuffed Olaf on her lap. “Yes, it’s Olaf. I’m keeping it.”
Paige laughed, shaking her head as she pulled out of the parking lot. The soft hum of the engine filled the silence between them as they drove off towards UConn, the glow of the fair behind them, leaving only the warmth of the moment to hold onto.
Long after Paige had “dropped” Azzi off following their first date, she found herself wandering into the gym. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but something about the court always drew her in. Spotting Azzi on the court dribbling, Paige couldn’t help but chuckle softly to herself.
Azzi noticed her almost immediately, stopping mid-dribble with a smile. “What are you doing here?”
Paige smirked, walking further onto the court. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Azzi shrugged as Paige closed the distance, casually swatting the ball out of her hand. Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Ah, there’s my annoying best friend.”
Paige laughed along, saying. “Ahh, so I’m ‘best friend Paige’ right now, huh?”
Azzi nodded, still grinning.
Paige raised an eyebrow, tilting her head dramatically. “Okay then, tell me something. I heard you went on a date tonight.”
Azzi chuckled at Paige’s antics, her laughter light and easy. “I did.”
Paige dribbled the ball a few times, casually lining up a close-range shot. “How was it?”
Azzi tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “Ehh I was a little nervous at first, but I actually loved it.”
Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Nervous? Why were you nervous?”
Azzi’s gaze softened as she shrugged, her voice quieter. “You know why.”
Paige arched an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Humor me.”
Instead of answering directly, Azzi pivoted the conversation. “I went on some dates when we weren’t talking, like you suggested.”
Paige paused mid-dribble, her curiosity piqued. “You did?”
Azzi nodded, fidgeting with her hands. “Yeah... with girls.”
Paige hummed at this as she resumed dribbling, her voice casual but interested. “How were they?”
Azzi shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “They were okay. It’s not like I was trying to figure out feelings for them... more so to figure out myself.”
Paige nodded, her gaze softening with a soft smile. “And?”
Azzi smiled faintly, her tone more serious now. “They helped. The conversation with my mom I was telling you about? A whole lot easier after that.”
Paige paused her dribbling to smile at Azzi, her voice full of warmth. “I’m proud of you, Az.”
Azzi’s lips curled into a small, grateful smile, the sincerity of Paige’s words lingering in the air.
Azzi met Paige’s gaze, her tone playful yet sincere. “There’s a little more attention that comes with going on a date with Connecticut’s version of Jesus though.”
Paige burst out laughing, tossing the ball softly at Azzi, who caught it with a grin.
Azzi continued, her voice shifting to something more serious. “I was nervous at first because I knew people would recognize us—mostly you. It’s a lot of extra attention.”
Paige nodded, her grin slowly growing as she listened.
Azzi tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “What? Why are you smiling like that?”
Paige leaned casually against the wall, her grin turning a bit smug. “You know I picked the fair on purpose, right?”
Azzi’s brows furrowed. “No...”
Paige smirked, folding her arms. “It’s far enough from campus that we wouldn’t be recognized as much, but it’s also a Thursday, which means there weren’t going to be a lot of teenagers or people our age there. Just a bunch of kids with their parents or older people. People our age would usually go on Fridays or Saturdays.”
Azzi blinked, processing the thoughtfulness behind Paige’s planning.
Paige stepped closer, her voice softening. “I picked today because I knew anyone who approached us would either be a super-excited kid or an old-school basketball fan who wouldn’t care why it was just the two of us there together. I wanted it to be... easier for you.”
Azzi was stunned, her lips parting slightly as she stared at Paige. “You really thought that far ahead?”
Paige shrugged with a casual air, though her gaze was warm. “I know you, Az. I know how hard this is for you.”
Azzi laughed, her tone light again as she tried to hide how much Paige’s words meant to her. “If you knew what I was struggling with the whole time, why’d you let me make it seem like basketball was the only thing stopping me?”
Paige’s smile softened, her voice dropping just enough to convey her sincerity. “Because I needed to give you time. It’s not a realization someone else can process for you.”
The air between them shifted as Paige leaned casually against the wall, her height slightly towering over Azzi with the way they were standing. The space between them grew smaller without either of them noticing.
Azzi tilted her head up to look at Paige, her expression soft. “I miss your eyes,” she said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out without her permission.
Paige chuckled, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s always the first thing you say to me.” Her grin widened, teasing but fond.
Azzi didn’t bother denying it, her gaze unwavering. The weight of her words lingered in the air, pulling them closer in a way that had nothing to do with proximity.
After a moment, Azzi whispered, her tone playful but with a hint of nervousness, “I’m not letting you kiss me.”
Paige’s toothy grin grew, her confidence shining through. “That’s fine.” Her voice was low, carrying just enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch.
But Paige didn’t move away. She stayed close, her presence overwhelming yet comforting, as she just took in Azzi standing in front of her.
Azzi didn’t respond, her lips quirking up just slightly. Instead, she shook her head with a quiet laugh, looking away but refusing to step back.
Paige finally stepped back, breaking the tension with a soft laugh. The sound lingered in the air, as she picked up a basketball and started dribbling casually.
Azzi rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag muttering, “I’m leaving.”
Paige’s laugh grew louder as she called after her, “See you later, princess!”
Azzi didn’t stop or turn around, but a faint smile spread across her face. She lifted her hand and stuck her middle finger up in response, a playful gesture that made Paige laugh even harder as Azzi walked out of the gym.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 8 months ago
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I Want Better For You (part 3.5)
part 1 | Masterpost | Part 3
Tim sat on the edge of his bed in Titan’s Tower, his mind going like a hamster on a wheel, a mile a minute and getting nowhere. In his hands he held the note left for him by Red Hood! It was a serious security breach that he had gotten in here at all. Obviously Tim knew he was smart, he had been Robin before Tim after all, you couldn’t do that job without being smart as hell and strong as heck. But he had upgraded the security himself when he joined the team, no one should have been able to get into the tower, let alone into his room to leave the note.
At least it wasn’t a bad note? In fact it was… nice, it was a kind offer. They had to know that if he did this he would spy, he wouldn’t even be able to help it because he’d always had a detective's mind, yet still they offered. 
Of course there was always a possibility that it was a trap of some type but Tim really didn’t think it was. Jason had proved he could get into the Tower, if he wanted Tim dead or kidnapped he could have just done it.
He should talk to his team about this, he should talk to Bruce about this, but for the moment he just held the note. Robin had always been his hero, sure it was Dick he’d first recognized because of the Flying Grayson connection, but Jason had been His Robin. Tim had idolized Jason, and been completely devastated when he died. Ya he had become Robin to help Bruce, but it was to memorialize Jason as well.
He knew that Jason wasn’t the same as he’d been before his death, but… while he was dead Tim had gotten used to thinking of him like a brother. A part of him desperately wanted to take this note at face value, to forget all about the violence, and the crimes, and just take the olive branch and bond with his childhood hero. But he was going to be smart about this.
He was going to go, of course he was, but he needed to put safety measures in place and some sort of plan. Though he probably still wasn’t going to tell B about it, he was overprotective and would grill Tim for any bit of information he managed to gleen, and if he wanted any real info he would have to do a long con. Best he could do right now would be to have Superboy listen in, set up a code word, and have Impulse ready for an extraction if needed then… well he’d tell Batman when he needed to.
------------
It took about a week to talk Superboy into letting him go but it wasn’t exactly hard to set up as minimal of plans as he had, including wearing a hidden wire to record whatever happened. As long as it worked, Tim had heard tech had a habit of messing up around Hyena if he didn’t want them working. 
He didn’t bother thinking of an excuse, he didn’t think he needed one. Wanting to get to know them would be enough, especially if he was going to rely on them for anything in the future. 
So, feeling tense and keeping to the shadows he entered Crime Alley on a slow night with his friends behind him, figuratively speaking. He moved a bit deeper in, grappling up to the roof of a building, feeling a little lost and listless. He did know vaguely where to find these two, but Crime Alley wasn’t a small place, and now that he was in their territory he didn’t know where to go, it’s not like they knew where Hood and Hyena lived, or their base of operations. 
It seemed like he didn’t need to though, because while he was standing on the roof thinking he saw someone coming, leaping from one building to the other with reckless abandon. They weren’t even using a grapple as they free ran and made jumps Tim was pretty sure should have been impossible. Tim knew who it was before they were close enough to see detail because Hood still used a grapple, the only one who acted like that was Hyena.
Sure enough Hood’s lover skidded to a halt across the roof in front of Tim, grinning to the point he could see it a little past the muzzle he wore. He didn’t have any weapons out, not that that meant anything, half the time Hyena forgot to use the clawed brass knuckles he carried and fought with bare hands. Tim was tense, ready to fight or flee but Hyena was not, he seemed relaxed and didn’t approach, keeping his hands visible. 
“Hey there little birdy, what can I do for ya?” Hyena asked, he didn’t have a Gotham accent but it was a little hard to tell where exactly it was from.
“I got Red Hood’s note. I just wanted to talk, introduce myself properly and meet you before I decide to take you up on any of the offers.” Tim said honestly.
“Of course!” Hyena agreed, pulling his phone out of a hidden pocket on the inside of his cropped jacket. “I’ll text Hood, ask him to pick up some food for us and we can have a little rooftop picnic and chat for a bit. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds good,” Tim said, not sure why he was surprised by the offer.
“Any requests? The lifestyle sure builds up an appetite huh? And I certainly hope you’re still growing,” Hyena teased, cackling at Tim’s expression of indignation. Hyena wasn’t that much taller than him!
“Coffee,” He requested, finally relaxing a little.
“Hmm,” Hyena sounded judgmental as he tapped at his phone. “Fine, it’s your bone density that’s at stake not mine.” He pressed send, waited a moment and his phone dinged with a reply. “Great, he’ll be on his way soon, with picking up food he’ll probably be about a half hour,” Hyena said, pocketing his phone again and flopping down, as if the rooftop was a soft bed. “I know it’s probably Hood you really came to see but is there anything I can tell you in the meantime? Let’s stick to small talk though huh? I know how you bats and birds are, but I also know you’re wearing a wire, and I’m not interested in spilling my guts.” 
“Alright, ya that’s fair. Hood mentioned in the note that you know a lot about astronomy?” Tim mentioned, finally sitting down with his legs crossed as well.
“Oh ya, I was totally obsessed with it for most of my life, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid and learned everything I could about space and engineering,” Hyena confirmed casually.
“This is a long way from being an astronaut,” Tim pointed out.
“Ya, well, things don’t always go the way you plan you know? Sometimes you get kidnapped by mad scientists and experimented on to the point you go a little around the bend,” Hyena snickered. Tim wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or self referential, or not.
“Riiight, well, what are your favourite space facts then?” Tim asked, just to pass the time really. Hyena brightened immediately and was happy to start sharing a bunch of random facts. 
It ended up in a back and forth of fun facts, aerospace vs chemistry and both of them could go shot for shot when it came to engineering. Tim realized, a bit belatedly, that Hyena is way smarter than Tim had given him credit for. That was disconcerting but… if they ended up getting alone Tim thought he could have a lot of fun tinkering with him.
“Incoming,” Hood broke into their conversation, warning them before he landed on the roof so he wouldn’t startle them. “Hey there Timmy,” He said as he walked over to crouch next to Danny, handing him a few bags of batburger and a tray of drinks before taking off his helmet. He was wearing a domino underneath it but it wasn’t like Tim didn’t already know his identity. “Got your coffee, I bet if you took off that domino your eye bags would be nearly as dark as the mask. Never enough time to sleep between school, social life, and nightlife.” Jason said, taking the tray of drinks back from Hyena, who promptly started digging through the bag with his now free hands, and handed the coffee cup to Tim.
“If you drop out of school to play hero I will personally kick your ass,” Jason said pointing at Tim warningly. 
“Uhhh,” Tim sounded, shifting a little awkwardly because he couldn’t deny he had already thought about dropping out. He looked down and took a sip of the coffee, which wasn’t great, but hey. “Why do you care?”
“Neither Hyena or I got to finish school because we died before graduation,” Hood said simply, which was a punch in the gut, and new information about Hyena. “I want better for you.” 
Tim didn’t know how to respond to that.
Hyena finished rummaging through the bag with a little yip of delight and started distributing the food, handing Hood a bag and taking a box of chicken wings, a burger, and some fries for himself before handing off the rest to Tim. “Looks like Hood didn’t know what you wanted and bought half the store, whatever you don’t eat I’ll finish,” Hyena joked as Tim took the bag. “Shit I forgot my sauces,” Hyena grumbled, staring at his nuggets with a little pinch between his brows. 
“What sauce are you looking for?” Tim asked, looking through the bag.
“Sweet and sour,” Hyena said brightly and Tim found the sauce and tossed it to Hyena, who hummed happily and took off his mask to eat. He was completely barefaced now and Tim couldn’t help but stare a little just because of how casual he was being about this. “What?” Hyena asked, catching Tim staring. 
“Hey I know he’s cute but he’s taken,” Hood joked, slinging an arm around Hyena’s shoulders who cackled and leaned back against Jason.
“No!” Tim said, cursing his fair skin for showing his blush, not because Hood was right of course, he was just embarrassed! “I mean, that’s not what I was thinking, I’m just surprised you took off your mask,” He told Hyena.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before I’m sure. I’m sure you and the bats have already figured out my ‘civilian identity’ or whatever. It’s not like I have anything to protect really, I only have the mask and the outfit because I like the aesthetic.” Hyena said, gesturing down at himself. 
“Fair enough I guess…” Tim said before looking back at Hood. “How did you get into Titan’s Tower?”
“Trade secrets Timmy, I’d rather talk about you. How’s school? You got a girlfriend or boyfriend?” Jason asked with a shit eating grin as Tim sputtered indignantly and then took a big bite of his burger to avoid having to answer such an invasive question! Especially with Superboy definitely listening in.
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sang-i-fetge · 3 months ago
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List of Jason Todd/Red Hood's weapons/gadgets/touys
Note: This is mostly from comics written by Winick, as I refuse to acknowledge most of n52. Feel free to add more, though!
Note2: This post was originally formatted in a different way, as I foolishly forgot about the image limit.
Blades
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1— His iconic dagger!
Can cut through stone, and most of Batman's gear. It's been heavily debated what kind of knife it is; wether a kris, a parrying dagger, or a third secret thing.
2— The blades he gives Mia to defend herself!
I'm not sure what kind of blade they are, they vaguely look like wakizashis? Their size varies from panel to panel so idk😔
3— The katana for the 'duel' with Oliver!
4— And to link with the next section, the exploding katana!
Yes, it's a katana that explodes. Jason baits Oliver into holding it.
Explosives
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— First of all, he blows up many many things and it's not specified what exactly he uses. So the unspecified explosives that only appear as a cool fireball panel get a bullet point.
5— The jumble of explosives in the Final Confrontation™️, we can see some dynamite, C4...
6— Bomb in a crate
7— Small bomb. Not lethal!
8— Bigger bomb. Yes lethal.
9— Continuing with this absolute icon: the bomb under the Batmobile (should I capitalize that?)
10— Small Rocket, used against Brick
11— Grenade?
12— Small, cylinder-shaped explosives. Detonated upon impact?
13— Small explosive that attaches to flat surfaces, used against Dr Freeze
14— Grenade.
15— Molotov Cocktail
16— Enough C4 to destroy a whole building, modded so it explodes if its temperature reaches one point, countering Batman's method of freezing bombs.
17— My absolute favorite, the exploding helmet!
Even if it's listed under 'explosives', it's also an important piece of technology in the Red Hood's arsenal.
Firearms
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18, 19— The guns in the wall from Annual #25, there's surely more.
20— Machine guns hidden in crates!
21— Machine guns hidden in cars!
22— Rocket launcher, used against Black Mask
23— Even more hidden machine guns! This time in an electricity pole.
24— Machine gun (also hidden, but surprisingly not attached to anything)
25— Handgun👍
26— AK-47, you know the panel from where it's from
27— Submachine guns, I think 🙂
28— When out of ammo he uses his guns as blunt weapons, which I wanted to note
Tasers
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29— The nazi-killing taser
30— The reason for the creation of this post! The grapple line taser! Attach it to a grapple line and it will shock whoever is connected to it. Noticed it in a reread of utrh and needed people to see it
31— Bonus: the bat-symbol taser. Iconic enough to be here.
Tech & Surveillance
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32— Monitor and microphone?
33, 34— cameras :)
35— thing to see the feed of the cameras
36, 37— phones :)
38— his little tech den in #650
39, 40— computers :)
41— whatever this thing is
42— The surveillance device that looks like he taped a canon camera to his face
43— Wiretaps!
44— Bugs!
He also has his evil lair in B&R2009 bugged.
Miscellaneous
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45— Does his crowbar count
46— smoke bomb!!
47— Injectable adrenaline. He just has that in his utility belt.
48— His batmobile-evade suit.
49— Is saying his belt buckle mean
50— Unspecified poison! Goodbye Egon
51— This thing that attaches to its target and launches them off
Not pictured:
The fancy weapon dressing he gives onyx to patch up the shoulder wound he inflicted (I forgot to screenshot 💔)
Also, he has this whole hq-ish thing in Annual #25
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(Edit: That rectangle in the gun wall kinda looks like an anti-drone gun now that I think abt it)
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It has a murder board, which I think is cute.
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enderlovez · 29 days ago
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Late-Night Genius
Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1500+
Summary: During a late night in the BAU, reader finds Spencer hunched over his desk muttering to himself about the deranged killer on the loose, and decides that in the midst of all this carnage, he needs someone to look after him, too.
Content Warning: mentions of death, mutilation of the human body, blood and murder, pocket knife used as a murder weapon, intentional sleep deprivation, strangulation, overworking yourself
────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────
Nine people are already dead, and nobody has a single piece of useful information on the unsub, only that they are — possibly, not definitely — an old white man, which sums up half the human population.
Most of the team, including yourself, have been staying in the office until stupid hours of the morning recently, to try and figure out what you're missing before this mysterious killer takes another victim.
Some believe he's already done so, but the bodies are still unfound.
There are no connections between the victims, except for the fact that each of them are from out of town, but each of them were killed in similar fashions — strangled with a noose made of fishing line, then their throats jaggedly sliced open post-mortem.
All of them were also missing both hands and both feet, hacked off poorly by a pocket knife found near the crime scene. That, however, was not post-mortem, meaning that these poor people were mutilated while still alive, possibly fully aware of what was happening.
It should be impossible that the unsub left no trace with something such as this, but here you are, struggling in the behavioral analysis unit at two in the bloody morning, to come up with what should be the most basic details.
You sigh dejectedly as you relax into your chair, pressing your palm into your nose with a little more force than necessary and tiredly rubbing your shut eyes with your thumb and pointer finger.
Right now, you think you'd do just about anything to be back home in bed — not that you technically can't go home, you're free to go home anytime you please as long as you're back in... later this morning, but you feel an uncomfortable sense of duty to this case.
A sound draws you out of your half-asleep state on the chair, a soft mumbling from the desk adjacent to yours. You begrudgingly peel your eyes open to find Spencer Reid hunched over his desk in a way that definitely can't be good for his back.
His face is twisted up in concentration as his finger runs up and down the page he's reading.
"You're going to give yourself back problems, Spencer," you mumble, using your hands as leverage to push yourself up from your seat. He doesn't look away from the paper in front of him, but hums in acknowledgement, though you're not entirely sure he heard you.
It's probably a really bad idea to be overworking yourself so much, tiring out your body to the point of exhaustion, considering your line of work. But you don't plan on stopping until this killer is behind bars, and apparently as it turns out, neither does Spencer — you can sleep once the risk of another person dying is handled.
With another near-silent sigh, rubbing your hands over your face once more, you grab a few things out of your bag and start making your way towards the exit.
Spencer doesn't ask where you're going, but you feel the need to specify anyway, albeit vaguely.
"I'm heading out for a bit," you whisper over your shoulder, waving your hand around limply. Realistically, you know you should head home like Hotch suggested, catch some sleep before you're back at work, but you just... can't. Exhausted as you may be, you don't think you could sleep even if you tried.
The cool early-morning air against your skin soothes the heat lingering just beneath as you slowly trudge towards your car, hopping into the drivers seat and pulling away from the building. You shouldn't be driving in this state, but you desperately need something to eat.
If Spencer were here, he'd be telling you all about how many people die while driving tired. Probably lightly scold you and insist on driving, even though he's just as, if not more tired than you are.
You're only half-aware as the car takes you away from the building, mind zeroing in on the music playing quietly over the radio. Boring, not something you would ever listen to on your own.
It's a miracle that you're able to reach your destination without getting pulled over — a little twenty-four hour café you frequently visit. Granted, it's usually at more appropriate hours of the morning.
The girl behind the counter looks bored and tired, just over everything and likely wanting to be at home in bed, much like you. As you shuffle up to the register and see her smile falter, you feel pity.
Poor girl probably doesn't get paid enough for this.
"Hello, welcome to Pine and Pastry," she says in a flat voice. "What can I get for you this morning?"
"Hi there, Caroline," you whisper, eyes halfway shut. For a moment she looks surprised that you know her name, before you point to the nametag pinned to her apron.
She writes down your order in sloppy handwriting as you speak — a plain black coffee with a crap ton of sugar for Spencer, and a hazelnut latte for yourself, along with some extra espresso shots in a cup just in case. You also get a couple of breakfast bagels and a box of cinnamon rolls.
It takes her maybe ten minutes to get everything ready, making the coffee, and even going the extra mile to warm up the cinnamon rolls.
"Your total is $34.79," she says, rubbing her eyes with one hand as you place a fifty dollar bill into her other, murmuring a quiet 'keep the change' and grabbing a handful of sugar packets before collecting your things and stepping back outside.
The drive back to work is easier, you're more aware of your surroundings now that you've been off your ass for a little while.
"You're back," Spencer comments softly as you walk back into the office, though he doesn't even look up from the page — a different one than before, but still one he's looked over hundreds of times.
"I'm back," you agree as you set everything down on your desk. He glances up at you once as you place the coffee and breakfast bagel on his side. "I got you some coffee and something to eat."
He watches you for a second before offering a quiet 'thank you', picking up the bagel and taking a bite out of it — still hunched over.
Spencer's eyes widen when you're suddenly beside him, ushering him out of that horrid position and into a chair, holding him up straight for a moment before returning to your own desk.
"You need to take better care of yourself, Spence," you demand softly, looking down at your own files, fully aware of how intently he's staring at you. "It's bad enough that we're keeping ourselves awake at all hours of the night and into the morning, you can't just not eat."
If you're being honest, you've always had a bit of a thing for the genius boy, so seeing him doing so... not well upsets you a lot little.
A small smile appears on his lips as he takes a sip of his coffee. "You already take such good care of me, though," he snipes back playfully, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You really shouldn't drive while this tired, it can actually be worse than—"
"—Worse than driving intoxicated, I know, Spence," you finish for him, rolling your eyes and taking a bite of your own bagel. "I think Hotch might put us on mandatory rest, if we don't get some sleep soon."
Spencer hums in agreement, looking back to the files on the desk in front of him, making a sudden thought spark in your mind.
He doesn't look at you as you stand up again, rounding the desks so you're back on his side, but he does give you a side-eye when you place your hands on his shoulders and start pushing his head down towards the desk.
"What are you doing?" he asks, though he doesn't make any moves to stop your ministrations, folding his arms on the hard surface and letting the side of his head rest atop them.
"You've been working so hard," you whisper soothingly, gently squeezing his shoulders in what you hope is a comforting gesture, "just give your mind a minute to rest — and I know you'll say you don't need it, but maybe it'll help you think better."
He bites his bottom lip a little before giving in, letting his eyes close. "Maybe if it's just a minute," he agrees quietly, voice already drifting off into silence. He's out like a light before he can stop it.
With a small, tender smile on your face, you use your finger to brush some of his hair out of his face and let your thumb briefly stroke over his temple.
He's so absolutely, heartbreakingly adorable when he's sleeping, you realize, heart stuttering and eyes watering at the sight before you. His face is no longer twisted in concentration, rather soft and peaceful.
Just because you're tired, doesn't mean poor Spencer needs to be, not if you have any say in the matter.
He might be slightly upset with you when he wakes up, even if it's only brief, but all of that's fine if it means he'll get at least a little bit of sleep.
Humming a quiet little tune to yourself, you return to your desk and continue your work where you left off.
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kayjaywrites · 10 months ago
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Like Bugs in a Rug: Chapter One
Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.
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Chapter Word Count: 6,350 Chapter Music Inspo: End of It - Friday Pilots Club
Chapter Content Warnings: fluff, some cursing, one bed trope, awkward but wholesome communication, AFAB Reader, Reader (You), some details about Reader's appearance but overall vague, canon plot spoilers as this is canon compliant-ish, reader low key being thirsty for Azzie
Note: Hello! Welcome to my first fic in like 10 years! This idea came about when I was having a hard time falling back asleep. I sometimes draft fanfiction when i'm trying to sleep. I don't often remember the plots come morning, but the memory of this one remained intact enough for me to jot down. I’m thinking this update is gonna be the longest chapter because it's both prologue and the first chapter, but I have terrible self control with word count limits. So I guess we’ll see what the next chapters bring, but they may be shorter!
Enjoy me 2am fugue state musings, there are likely typos~
XxXx
Prologue
It was all worth it. The decades of patience and silent suffering. The centuries of loneliness paying off just as you lost hope of ever leaving The Court of Nightmares. You and your father, Kier, expected a typical visit from the Inner Circle. The High Lord would threaten your father to keep him in line, you’d go unnoticed in the back of the throne room monitoring the interaction. Just like every other time they visited.
Except, the High Lord and his Inner Circle asked about you like you were the reason behind their visit. You had clocked the visit as odd as soon as only Rhysand, Feyre, and Mor arrived. The absence of both The General & Shadowsinger at the same time a rarity. Despite being related to Rhysand and Mor, you didn’t think they knew your name, so when they asked Kier about you, by name, your heart damn near fell out of your ass.
They wanted you to leave Hewn City to work with them. A Courtier of the Night Court, working alongside Nesta, Lady Death herself, of all people. They wanted you to start immediately now that the war with Hybern was over. Relations between Courts were strained, and upon learning of your talent, the High Lord deemed it a waste for you to be hidden away down here. He and the Inner Circle believed you did not belong in The Court of Nightmares. To anyone else, having the High Lord speak so highly of your child would have been an honor.
It was the most furious you’d ever seen Kier. Which was saying something. His emotions grew volatile in a blink of an eye, outraged by the absolute gall of the High Lord. How dare he come to his city and tell him that you weren’t meeting your full potential down here? At some point Kier stood up, snarling at Rhysand and the others like a wild animal. Kier, so lost in his anger, let his mental shields falter. Just for a second, but it was more than enough time for your powers to draw his wayward thoughts to you, like a magnet, his unspoken intentions seeped into your own mind. You were always terrible at blocking him out when he got like that.
Power. Kier's thoughts whispered to you. A spy for him in the Inner Circle.
It disgusted you how predictable your father was, his intentions were always about how he could best use you for his own gain. It was the driving force behind your excessive training habits, desperate to protect yourself from the toxicity of his intentions. The more you failed at keeping him out, the more you hated him, and by default hated yourself.
Rhysand was right, you were wasted down here, and it wasn’t that your father didn’t see that, he didn’t care. He wasn’t furious with the High Lord for taking another daughter away from him, he was mad about losing a tool.
Well, your father could rot down here alone for all you cared.
You felt a lot of things in that moment. Intimidated by the prospect of working with Nesta, unsure of Mor’s morals and the rumors surrounding her, apprehensive of Rhysand and Feyre’s power, and not to mention all the unknown dynamics between the rest of the Inner Circle. But, despite all that uncertainty, you did not feel nervous about leaving Hewn City with them.
The first task Kier ever appointed you was to report on Rhysand and his Inner Circle’s intentions every time they visited. Either they all had flawless control over their mental shields, or their icy behavior was an act from the beginning. You never dared to share your suspicions with Kier, your father only wanted ammo for his hate, and he never took kindly to evidence that didn’t support his biases against High Lord Rhysand.
It felt a little too much like blind faith and a hunch for you to be 100% comfortable with the decision, but you decided to put your trust in these strangers anyway.
You would take the job.
Not to be a spy for Kier.
Not out of some duty to your High Lord or older sister.
It was time to live your life for you. Consequences be damned.
But, the focus of this story was not about moving to Velaris with Mor and getting to know the Inner Circle. It wasn’t about how much you rock as a diplomat for the Night Court. It wasn’t about how good it felt the first time sunlight touched your skin upon leaving the underground city. It wasn’t even about how you and Nesta became best friends. However good those stories may be.
However, this story is about Azriel Shadowsinger, and how the mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, fell head over heels for you without you ever picking up on it. Yeah, that’s right, the girl who struggled to control her talent for hearing unspoken intentions never puzzled the pieces together. For literal years everyone else in the godforsaken room could tell the Spymaster was in love with you, except for you.
...one year and a couple months later....
It all started with an argument with Rhysand a few assignments into your career as the Night Court Courtier. You felt like you could handle traveling between Courts without needing an escort, especially if you’d be meeting up with Nesta at the destination anyway. Rhysand did not agree, basically threatening to ground you if you didn’t allow someone to accompany you.
That was how Azriel had become your full-time travel partner. Rhysand appointed Azriel as an additional escort in case Nesta was pulled away.
You’d take this to your grave before ever admitting it, but Rhysand wasn’t wrong to be worried. There had been a good number of times where just that had happened. Nesta would be working the other side of the room, and having Azriel lingering nearby eased your nerves. Prythian was a vast Realm, and Rhys had been right in worrying about your adjustment.
It didn’t take too long for you to adapt once you had visited all the different Courts a few times. Yet, Azriel continued to go out of his way to accompany you to events. The first obvious sign of his affections for you came a little over a year into your career.
The event was in a small Day Court town on the border of the Night Court, just under a day’s travel from Velaris on foot. Home to one of the libraries hit hardest by Amarantha’s looting, the entire town was celebrating the return of a sizable chunk of the stolen volumes. The gala was advertised to be a quaint dinner and cocktail hour. You suspected that scholars and book enthusiasts would be the bulk of those present. Although interested in going, Rhysand had High Lord duties to attend to that involved Nesta and the other Archeron sisters in the Summer Court. With a promise to fill everyone in on anything of interest, you packed a small overnight bag and waited for Mor to arrive home. You never developed the ability to winnow, so you needed someone to bring you.
Fussing with your hair in one of the numerous mirrors decorating Mor’s walls, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. Your time in Velaris, just over two years, had already begun to sooth a deep sadness you hadn’t realized had settled under your skin. It was obvious in the gentle way you gazed at your reflection, the healthy flush of your cheeks, and the warmth of your thoughts. Velaris looked good on you, and as you smoothed a hand down the shimmery sapphire blue fabric of the dress that clung to your curves, you thought the new formalwear looked good on you too.
Giddiness bubbled up in you at the idea of modeling the new dress for Mor. The excitement felt foreign still, after spending centuries believing Mor didn’t care to know her own little sister. You never thought you’d ever get the chance to gush over dresses with her. Kier hated everything Mor represented, and was cruel to her in ways that made you feel lucky in a perverse way. Your father may have manipulated and alienated you, filling your head with lies about your older sister, but it was never public. Kier made sure everyone in the Court of Nightmares knew that Mor was a useless whore and a traitor.
When Mor became a core member of the Inner Circle, and Rhysand put her in charge of Hewn City, you would wait for her to acknowledge you during her visits. Decades turned into a century, but the same hope would always rise up when Mor was due for a visit, only to be crushed when she ignored you. She never paid you a second of her time, just a fleeting look in passing as if you were another spectator. Knowing that she wasn’t ignoring you out of ill intent stung more, because you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.
Kier may be your father, but that didn’t mean you had to be a fan of his intentions. You never believe the rumors he spread about Mor.
And then, the big reveal came. It turned out that to Mor, you were just another spectator. Mor didn’t know she had a younger sister at all. Keir hid you so well that no one realized you were related to him. A detail that made you feel so small when it came to light. You were just the shy woman in the background, taught to be pleasant when spoken to, a pretty little wallflower the rest of the time.
Later, when you asked about who first realized your identity, you got mixed accounts from the Inner Circle. Rhysand insisted that it was he who put the pieces together first. Stating that it came to him suddenly after Azriel submitted a report from a surveillance mission detailing an overheard conversation between you and Kier about your talents. Rhysand claimed that your powers reminded him of a variation of Mor’s. The rest of the Inner Circle credited Feyre for noting the resemblance between you, Kier, and The Morrigan the first time she noticed you loitering at the back of a council meeting.
When the truth was confirmed, and you agreed to go with them, Mor wept. She vowed to never leave you alone in The Court of Nightmares ever again, even for a second. That promise was your first experience with making a deal in the Night Court. Your clear surprise at the intricate tattoo that branded itself over the center of your sternum clued Mor, Rhysand, and Feyre in on how out of touch you were with common lore from your own Court. Mor wasted no time in winnowing you out of there after that. The both of you had heard enough of Keir’s nasty sneers and low-blow comments to last a lifetime.
Now, Mor’s cozy little home was also your cozy little home, if not a bit tight for two people. If someone asked you a decade ago if you thought you’d ever have a relationship with Mor you would advise them to seek out a healer.
And yet there you were, vibrating with things to tell her, anticipating her arrival with an almost goofy grin when…Azriel of all people winnowed into the living room.
Perplexed, but not totally disappointed, “Oh!” you said, clearly taken aback. “I was expecting Mor.”
Azriel huffed a low chuckle, dimples bracketing his amused half-smile. “Sorry to disappoint.”
You looked him over, dark circles under his eyes, droopy eyelids, posture leaning forward in a slight slouch. “Az, didn’t you just return from a long mission? Why aren’t you resting?”
“Wanted to escort you to the Day Court Library Gala, of course.”
The tenderness in his voice had warmth bubbling up from your chest. “That is very kind,” you started, making sure to meet his gaze so he knew you meant it, “but you look so tired, Az. I’ve visited the Day Court a bunch of times now and only need someone to winnow me there. As much as I enjoy having you accompany me to these things, I don’t want you to stretch yourself thin on my account. I’ve got this.”
“I know you’ve got this,” came his immediate reply, “as you’ve pointed out I’ve been gone for a few weeks. What if I offered to escort you because I missed you, hm?”
Despite yourself you felt a flush of heat in your cheeks at his teasing. You refused to use your powers on anyone in the inner circle, unwilling to violate their privacy without explicit consent. But you didn’t need your powers to read Azriel’s sincerity. It made it hard to meet his gaze, you turned back to running your fingers through your hair in the mirror, taking a moment to compose yourself. “Well alright then, I don’t think I can do anything more to tame my hair, we should be off then.”
You felt Azriel at your back, a gloved hand coming up to gently grasp your elbow, guiding your arm down as his hand trailed down the bare skin of your forearm to hold yours, turning you to face him. “Stop fussing, you look stunning, this dress is new, right? I think the color suits you.”
You smiled. “Thank you, I suppose you would like this color, now that I’m thinking about it,” with your free hand you held up the skirt of the floor length dress to the siphon on his wrist, marveling at the color match, “it looks like I did it on purpose.”
He hummed in acknowledgement as he pulled you closer into an almost embrace. “We should go now. Wouldn’t want to miss the opening speeches.”
You suppressed a shudder. Definitely from the way his breath tickled your ear, and not from the way his voice sounded as he tucked you into his chest. “You hate opening speeches.” You pointed out, remembering all the times he complained about how boring they were.
“I do, but you like them.” You’d never said as much aloud, but you did enjoy listening to people talk about things they were passionate about, and opening speeches tended to be just that. Of course the Spymaster had noticed.
If Azriel saw your smile before you hid your face against his leather-clad pec he didn’t let on. You pulled your hands free and looped your arms around his middle, clasping your fingers together under the base of his wings.
“I’m ready then, thank you for coming with me.” Your voice was muffled, unwilling to tilt your head up to talk to him in case your maddening blush was there. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you winnowed with Az, your whole face would go cherry red. Something Cassian never failed to poke fun at whenever he witnessed it.
Azriel wrapped his arms tightly around you, your body now flush to his. You focused on the sound of his wings rustling as he tucked them in closer. Anything to distract from the way your pulse spiked when you felt his lips brush against the crown of your head, his hold on you gentle, yet firm and protective as darkness folded around the both of you.
XxXx
Neither you nor Azriel realized the issue with your room reservation until much too late. Upon arrival in The Day Court the both of you hurried to the event. The gala wrapped up around midnight, and like most of the other guests staying in town, you and Azriel retired back to the nearby Inn. With your strappy heels in hand and a pleasant buzz from the alcohol, you felt positively bubbly. Paused in front of your room, you let Azriel rummage through the small black purse at your side for the key. After almost leading them into the wrong room, Azriel took it upon himself to find the correct room and unlock the door.
Minutes later you were still trying to suppress a smile at how Azriel reacted with such mortification when he realized you’d led them to the wrong room. The mental image of the great Shadowsinger so frantic in his efforts to stop you from further jostling the doorknob, had you letting out a laugh before you could stop it.
“It’s not funny.” He grumbled as he swung the wooden door to your room open, leading you inside. You were on the verge of poking fun at him some more when you caught a glimpse of the interior layout. Right, you had RSVP’d expecting to attend the gala alone. The realization sobered you up real fast.
The room was small, burgundy curtains concealing a sizable window, antique desk with tourist flyers stacked in a neat pile on top. A queen sized, four post bed situated in the middle of the room.
“I’ll take the floor—” Azriel started saying.
But you interrupted him. “—you should have the bed.”
“Absolutely not, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let a lady sleep on the floor while I hogged the whole bed.” He nodded, as if the conversation was over, and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at him.
“There’s not even enough space on the floor for you to stretch out Az. The room is basically only bed. It’s fine, I can use my extra clothes—”
You inhaled sharply, tensing at the thought of your overnight bag, left forgotten back at Mor's apartment. Your eyes darted to Azriel, meeting his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and you knew you didn’t need to say anything about it as he scoffed under his breath.
“You forgot your bag.” He observed.
Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair, your tight dress feeling like it was constricting around your chest as you contemplated sleeping in it. “I did indeed forget my bag.”
“We could just go back, we don’t have to stay here for the night.” Azriel pointed out, but the thought of cutting the trip short caused a ripple of disappointment to drop in your stomach.
“Or,” he continued with a hint of amusement, “I have an undershirt beneath my leathers. I changed before I met you at Mor’s, so it’s relatively clean. I was going to sleep in it tonight, but I would sacrifice my shirt for you if it meant you’d stop frowning like that.”
If you thought you were anxious before, Azriel’s suggestion sent your anxiety through the roof. You had always found Azriel attractive, even when you were still living in Hewn City. Who wouldn’t? That attraction grew into a bit of a crush when you first arrived in Velaris. He treated you with such care as you adjusted to living above ground, quiet, patient, and thoughtful.
Once it was apparent that you would be working closely with him you shut that shit down. You and him had spent a lot of time traveling together the last few years, always with separate sleeping arrangements, and never sharing clothing. You went out of your way to respect his privacy, give him space, all in hopes of being someone he one day could trust, like how you trusted him.
You could handle one night, sharing a bed, borrowing his shirt. That wouldn’t totally backfire on you in any way, right? Nodding to yourself once, you tried for an air of confidence as you talked around the nerves that have bloomed in your chest.
“Okay,” you agreed, “but if I change into your shirt you definitely can’t take the floor. I won’t let you sleep shirtless on the ground while I’m all tucked in and cozy in bed. I’ll only take up a sliver of it by myself anyway.”
He opened his mouth to object, his intentions written in the way his brow furrowed at you. But you barreled on anyway, “So, we share the bed tonight. Are you comfortable with that?”
His mouth snapped shut, eyes studying you for a tense moment as if you may be tricking him. You clasped your hands together in front of you, the longer you waited for him to respond the clammier your palms felt. Each second felt like an eternity and in no time at all you found yourself scrambling for a way to play off your idea as a joke.
Of course he wouldn’t want to share a bed with you. What in the world had you been thinking?
Maybe you could blame it on that deliciously fizzy drink you downed before leaving the gala, say you weren’t in your right mind. Pretend to not remember in the morning, as if this wasn’t going to be a moment you cringe about decades later. Would you be able to just laugh it off? Would Azriel be chill enough to let you live this down? You were probably so screwed.
He was still a little tense, but just before your panic truly took root Azriel began to nod his head like he...agreed with you?
“Yes, I think that is the most logical solution. The bed can definitely fit two.” Azriel finally said, and you tried to keep yourself from gaping at his response. But your surprise must have been all over your face because he went on to say, “I didn’t suggest it myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Wiping your hands down the front of your dress did little to help with the sweat. The pit that had been taking form in your stomach churned, your dread morphing into jittery nerves.
Then, as if you weren’t having a nervous breakdown right in front of him, the handsome lunatic started striping his leathers off. Dept hands tossing his gloves to the desk, he unclasped the chest pieces of his leathers, they fell to the floor with a thud. Then, the promised black undershirt was up over his head, and you were drinking in all his tattoos and corded muscles like you were a tactless teenager instead of a 300+ year old female.
A flash of movement from him, and you flinched when his shirt hit you square in the face. It was so big it draped over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, ignoring how delicious the shirt smelled as you removed it from your face, “Hey—!”
“If you’re done gawking at me like you’ve never seen a shirtless male, you can get ready for bed first.” He headed further into the room, collecting his chest piece off the floor and approaching the desk to place it with his gloves. He turned to face you, his butt propped against the desk as he gestured to the door his wingspan had been blocking from view. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, flexing his biceps, and you almost swooned at the sight. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Your fist tightened around the shirt, fighting the urge to toss it back at him out of spite. Embarrassment felt like hot iron under your skin, so instead you snapped your attention to the door he had pointed out–the bathroom. You knew you’d averted your gaze much too fast to seem unaffected by him. He chuckled, and you glowered at him as his head tilted to the side, watching you with a bemused expression. He looked about ready to comment further, but you waved him off with faux-annoyance and an exaggerated roll of your eyes. Clutching his shirt close to your chest, you escaped into the bathroom.
Subtle.
Pressing your back to the door, it closed under your weight. You paused there for a moment to focus on your breathing, your frazzled mind going a mile a minute. This was all so far out of your comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny. You never had to deal with handsome males in The Court of Nightmares, Kier didn’t let you socialize long enough for it to even be on your radar. Dating hadn’t quite made your list of top priorities upon arriving in Velaris either.
What little experience you did have was with a male named Allistair. You’d met him at Rita’s within your first year above ground. It was a fling of sorts that lasted a few months before you decided casual dating wasn’t for you. He was a perfectly adequate lover. At least you think he was. He was also your only lover. A nice enough companion as you acclimated to your new life. The times you had been intimate with that male had left you feeling…bereft. Seeing Allistair shirtless had been nothing like seeing Azriel shirtless.
And Azriel calling you out for ogling him so blatantly? Mother have mercy.
So now you were just expected to fall asleep next to him wearing his shirt after that? The situation almost made you want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The last thing you wanted was to draw his suspicion by loitering against the door for too much longer, so you moved to the sink. Maybe splashing lukewarm water on your face would reveal that this had all been a weird ass nightmare.
Cupping water into your face a couple more times, you took in the smeared makeup dripping down your face in the mirror. Definitely not a dream.
Azriel was going to think you were in love with him for fucksake.
Snatching the nearby hand towel from the rack on the wall you soaked it, and got to work on scrubbing your face clean. You had to have a little more faith in Azriel. He wouldn’t let a single weird moment ruin over a year of amicable teamwork. But your personal relationship with him felt fragile to you at best. You can't let some tattoos and abs mess up what you considered to be the most solid friendship you’d made among the Inner Circle.
So what if he was hot as hell? You could co-exist with attractive people, it was legit a part of your job. You could salvage the situation, just change out of the dress you accidentally matched to the colors of his siphons, put his shirt on that smelled so strongly of him it gave you a headrush, and face him like you hadn't just been drooling over his naked chest.
You know, simple.
The hem of his t-shirt landed just above your knees, and the comfort you found in it was criminal. The black fabric was very soft and so baggy that you worried the wing slits in the back would shift forward in your sleep. It could reveal a little more than what you’d considered 'tasteful side boob'.
Resisting the urge to fuss in the mirror (because it wasn't like you were trying to look cute for anyone, right?), you exited the bathroom clean faced and a bit more settled than when you had entered.
Your bravado, however, was short lived. Azriel faced away from you in only his underwear, the rest of his leathers added to the pile on the desk. He was organizing his various knives on the bedside table closest to the main door.
He looked over his shoulder at you. Totally not catching you checking out his butt in the tight underpants. Cauldron boil you. Would it be weird if you marched yourself back into the bathroom to try the whole “not affected by sexy, almost nude Illyrian warrior” thing again?
Azriel inhaled sharply, and you snuck a glance at him. His attention was back on his knives, but there was a tension to him, almost like he was brooding. There might have been a light blush over his cheeks, but you felt weird analyzing him anymore than you already had out of habit. You clocked the change in his body language for what it was the instant he saw you in his shirt. Clenched jaw, tense shoulders, spine ramrod straight, wide eyed before averting his gaze, elevated heart rate–classic signs of attraction. Reactions he clearly didn’t want you to notice.
"I'm taking this side." He informed almost absently, patting the mattress. Leaving you with the window side.
You wandered to the desk to avoid observing him further, wishing that you could turn off the part of you that always seemed to be prying for more information. And then you felt it, his thoughts getting louder, his emotions growing wilder, reaching out to you. You slammed your mental shields up hard, a gross feeling taking root when it was too late.
Protect. Azriel’s intentions conveyed to you. Protect. Comfort. Provide. Here you were invading his private thoughts without his knowledge, while he was concerned with your wellbeing. What was the point of all that effort Rhysand put into teaching you how to better control your mental shields? It never worked when you needed it most. The failure stung, and you had to busy yourself with folding your dress in a neat square so you had something to keep your hands from shaking.
It was quiet for too long, and you struggled with recalling what he had said to you before you’d lost control. Something about the bed. "Sounds good to me." You decide on saying, placing your dress next to his leathers.
Azriel didn’t seem to find your reply out of the ordinary. Small mercies.
"I'll be out in a few minutes, then." His voice was rougher than before, and it sent chills down your spine. As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut you scurried into bed. You couldn’t get under the covers fast enough, pulling the blankets up to your neck with a hefty sigh of relief.
It felt awesome to be laying down after such a long evening on your feet. Too bad you couldn’t enjoy it more, instead drowning under waves of shame. Maybe you’d never get a full handle on your powers. Maybe the Mother was teaching you a lesson in this life? You couldn’t fathom what the moral could be. You wanted more than anything to be able to mind your business.
You wished you could turn your brain off. Alas, even your guilt couldn’t stop you from reflecting and organizing what you’d just observed. Not only had you heard his intentions, but you also felt them. Unlike the sweet warmth of his thoughts, his gaze had felt like desire and bad decisions.
He didn’t seem like he was actively seeking to bed you. You reasoned that you were also an available female wearing nothing but his shirt and a pair of panties. You could only imagine how all of that must have chafed against his Illyrian instincts. Rhysand had once mentioned that Illyrians were possessive and protective at best, controlling and jealous at their worst.
Surely those possessive instincts were what you were picking up on, then. You were covered in his scent after all. That was the only logical explanation for his reaction, his instincts were telling him to protect you because you were vulnerable and wearing his clothing. Even if it didn’t quite sound right to you, it was the only explanation you were willing to entertain. You were barely friends, there was no way Azriel wanted to court you. The thought sent a fleeting pang of disappointment through you that you refused to examine.
Whatever. There wasn’t anything you could do to make the situation less messy right now. You were exhausted, and stewing on scenarios that would never amount to anything real was unlike you.
Snuggling further into the sheets, you decided it was best to just pretend you hadn’t noticed shit. The damage was done, Azriel wasn’t dumb, he at least knew he had flustered you. You weren’t going to draw any more attention to that tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever. Everything about this night was a fluke.
Azriel returned from the bathroom, and you kept your focus on fluffing your pillows. Sitting up you tossed an extra pillow onto the floor, and you could feel as soon as his eyes landed on you that some of his…instincts…were still acting up. You pulled the comforter back up to your neck as he got into bed next to you. Turning on your side to face him you were determined to be normal. No more awkward gawking allowed tonight.
He stretched his arms up above his head, his joints popping a million times as he groaned in relief. You couldn't help chuckling at him, the fearsome Shadowsinger of the Night Court, doing something so mundane.
Scooting further onto the bed, Azriel rolled over to meet your gaze, his wings tucked close to his back as he settled. Most of his wingspan spilled over the side of the bed anyway. He surveyed you, eyes lingering along your tired but genuine smile, and you saw the stern tenseness slowly leave his body. "You sure you're comfortable with this?" He asked.
Your smile turned a tad warmer. This male was just so kind, so different from what you knew in Hewn City. "I am, I trust you Azriel." It was the truth. You didn't have friends growing up, and although you may have a long way to go before Azriel truly called you his friend, you considered him a dear (sexy) friend.
Your words seem to settle something in him, and you could have sworn you saw something almost affectionate flash across his face. You blink, and it's gone, but the fuzzy feeling it left in your chest remained.
Like he sensed your mushy thoughts, he ruined the moment. "So I have to ask you something, it’s serious.”
Your brows raised in bemused interest, the scenario with him wishing to court you snapping to the forefront of your mind again. He’d always been very attentive to you, but in a worried protective way. You’d never picked up on any romantic intentions from him before, and he’s not the type to make a decision like that on a whim. The chance was small, but you couldn’t 100% rule out him wanting to ask you out. Could you say no to him? Would you even want to say no? You’d never considered this as an option before!
He held your gaze, as if for dramatic effect and then with the seriousness of a top notch spymaster he asked you, “You have seen a shirtless male before...right?"
Maybe it was a mistake to consider this male kind, he was a menace all along.
You had never rolled your eyes so hard at someone. Unbelievable.
Turning away from him with enough force to toss your hair in his face, you are rewarded with the sound of his indignant grunt.
"Can you turn the light off please?" You snap, unable to rein in your annoyance. Unsettled by how it tasted almost like rejection.
"You didn't answer my question." He goaded, and you fell right for it.
"Yeah, because it's a silly question." You fire back.
He hummed at your response, "Doesn't seem like you think it's a silly question."
You would rather swallow your own tongue than admit to Azriel that you’d seen shirtless males, but he had been the first you’d enjoyed seeing shirtless.
Done with the line of questioning, you blindly flung your arm back, swatting at him. He startled at the contact, and he exhaled a scoff when you didn't stop flopping your arm at him after the first blow.
He caught your wrist, stilling your flailing. "Fine, fine, I'll drop it," He let go of your wrist, “for now.”
You shifted to burrow further into your pillows, totally not dwelling on how his big hand wrapped around your wrist made you feel dainty. The texture of his scars hadn’t made your heart skip a beat either. Nope. Not at all.
"Could you shut the light off please." You asked again with more venom than you intended. It bothered you how easy this male could get under your skin. He wasn’t even trying.
You felt his weight shifting, the bed frame squeaking a bit as he moved. "Anything for you, Princess." He shuffled a little more, and then the light went off, casting the both of you in darkness.
The nickname made you grimace into your pillow. No one had ever called you that before, and you really didn’t want it to catch on.
You felt him return to the position on his side facing you. Some moments passed in loud silence, and although you were the one that let the conversation drop, the residual tension in the room was killing you. There was no way you would be able to fall asleep, and you would bet that Azriel was stewing in the tension too.
"Az?" You whispered. His response was quick like he’d been waiting on edge for you to speak, "Yes?"
"Goodnight." And you found yourself meaning it. You hoped he got some sleep tonight despite the turmoil he had so effortlessly sowed in your stomach with his teasing. The prick.
You could practically hear the mischief in his voice. "Sleep well, princess."
Ugh. Your stomach coiled, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Very dangerous. It was an inappropriate reaction, and you wrote it off as stress. However as hard as you wished to forget it, you wouldn’t be forgetting how Azriel had made you feel that night anytime soon.
Even your racing thoughts couldn’t stop sleep from finding you, putting you out of your misery.
And if you woke up to the sounds of song birds that morning, your face pressed against Azriel's neck, your body sprawled atop him while he slept on his back, then that was your business. No one would know if you relished being in his arms a few minutes longer than necessary. You wouldn’t confirm nor deny if one of his hands had looped through a wing hole of his borrowed shirt, his fingers resting just under your breast.
And so what if it had been the best sleep you'd gotten since leaving Hewn City. And if Azriel seemed more well rested than usual on your return to the Night Court, you certainly didn't notice that either.
XxXx
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