#and also struggles with how much more will's absence seems to be affecting him

[doghartzy]

actually real last post. how long do you think before mack does get sick of it all and requests a trade. either because of the losing or the false hometown or the daddy issues. or all of the above. like i hope he stays with the sharks forever partially so i can see what kind of monstrous metastasis his relationship with his dad grows into but also partially because i really do enjoy watching the sharks. but realistically how many years could YOU make it with your helicopter dad hovering over your shoulder at every moment before you start to realize that this is actually really fucking you up as a person and the only real option is to get out.

[moonstrider9904]

Soup

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags/warnings: Fluff. SFW, albeit with some mild suggestiveness here and there. Established relationship, some teasing. Mentions and descriptions of the common cold. So much Soft!Crosshair.

Word count: 1.4k

One shot masterlist | Main masterlist | Read on Ao3

You’d heard him shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning throughout the night, and you giggled to yourself at the fact that he’d obviously tried not to wake you—and failed at it. You’d pretended to remain asleep so as to not worry him. You knew Crosshair was susceptible to feeling guilty over affecting you negatively in any way. Still, you knew something was up with him, and as you made pancakes for breakfast, you had already convinced yourself to act surprised when you saw an overly tired Crosshair emerging from your bedroom.

Nothing had prepared you, however, for the sight of Crosshair completely enveloped in a thick blanket with only his face peeking through the cloth, and you didn’t have to fake the shock that overwhelmed your sudden laughter. You looked away for a moment, diverting your gaze over to the pancakes as your laughter died down softly, but when you gazed at Crosshair again, you couldn’t help but erupt in laughter once more, now not only at the sight of him, but also at the fact that he was clearly annoyed.

“I don’t even know where to begin!” You kept giggling.

“How about, good freaking morning?” Crosshair crooned, his voice nasal and the sound of his m’s coming comically close to that of a B.

“Oh ho, sweetie,” you turned the stove off and you made your way over to him as he took a seat on the couch.

“Laugh it up,” Crosshair snarled, but his nasal voice and runny nose wouldn’t intimidate a mouse.

“Do you want padcakes?” You purposefully made your own voice nasal. “A good bordig is subbosed to have a good breakfast.”

His narrow eyes glared at you. “Ha ha.”

“Or would you prefer some chicke-d soup?” You grinned, still imitating his cold-infused way of talking.

In response, Crosshair laid across the entire sofa and faced the back of it, refusing to look at you. You chuckled at his grumpy-cat attitude and kneeled down beside the couch at the level of his head as he remained wrapped under the massive comforter.

“Okay, I’m done teasing,” you spoke normally, gently shaking his shoulder. “Will you look at me, please?”

“You’re really gonna make me move?” Crosshair crooned, immobile.

“I want to see your pretty face,” you smirked.

You heard Crosshair let out a big sigh, and he struggled under the comforter to shift his body, now facing you as he continued to lay on the couch. “I have half a mind to sneeze on you and bring you down with me.”

“I eat my fruits and veggies, you don’t scare me,” you raised a brow at him.

“Shut up and give me pancakes,” Crosshair moaned softly before he closed his eyes as though he’d fall asleep any minute.

“Don’t bite the hand that’s gonna nurse you back to health, sweetheart,” you leaned in and kissed him on the forehead.

Crosshair’s eyes opened for a moment at the contact of your lips on his skin, and the teasing went away from his eyes as he gazed up at you. Your lips retreated from his forehead, and you gazed upon him too—Crosshair didn’t fail to notice the glint of adoration in your eyes, sparkling as you looked down at him. Then, when you took your hand up to brush the backs of your fingers against his cheek, he inevitably leaned into your skin and his eyes closed again. You smiled softly at his reaction, and you took your hand up to his forehead before retrieving it and watching as his eyes opened expectantly, resenting the absence of your touch.

You chuckled. “Well, you don’t seem to have a fever.”

“Yipee,” Crosshair said monotonously.

“Oh, come on,” you said as you got up. “You have a tiny little cold, you’re gonna stay home all day on the couch in a cozy blanket watching movies, with your gorgeous girlfriend giving you pancakes and chicken soup all day.”

Crosshair chuckled. “You’re right, I can think of worse things.”

“And if you’re a good boy, I’ll rub some vaporub on your chest,” you winked.

Crosshair eyed you with a little gleam of mischief, smirking as seductively as he could manage in his current state. “Aye, here I am running with snot all over me, but you still want me, darlin’.”

You cackled. “Oh yeah, you’re irresistible, all wrapped up in a comforter.”

“You can put vaporub on me anywhere you want,” he kept smirking as he closed his eyes.

Laughter took over you again. “Gross.”

“You started it,” he hummed.

With a little giggle, you got up and made your way to the kitchen to finish what you’d started, putting in extra care to the pancakes and even sprinkled in a few chocolate chips, which Crosshair wouldn’t acknowledge out loud, but you knew he loved them. It was a perfectly slow day after that, with both of you spending almost the whole time in the living room together and cozying up to warm bowls of soup you improvised and nailed.

Each time you approached Crosshair for anything, you could see it in his eyes—the faint gleam and the fleeting softness that flashed through those brown irises, features glowing with a tender affection he didn’t need to put into words. He teased and he acted like an infuriated feline whenever he was sick, but close to nothing could measure the degree to which he appreciated and simply loved you. And each time you would feel him gazing upon you in such a way, you’d smile back at him, letting him know you felt the same way.

Crosshair insisted he’d spend the night on the couch—he didn’t want to increase your risks of catching his cold by sleeping next to you like he normally would, even if the idea of clinging to you in his sleep while you played with his gray locks seemed particularly appealing. You both went into the room to get his pillow and some blankets, and he spent a relatively peaceful night on the sofa while you lay dreamlessly on the bed, missing his warmth.

You’d spent the night shifting, tossing blankets, twisting, and turning, but at least you had no risk of waking Crosshair all the way to the sofa. That thought would comfort you during your sleepless hours, and after you finally managed to sleep and wake the next morning, your head ached, you felt your nose congested, and you wanted nothing more than to remain there the entire day. You sat up on the bed, groaning as you channeled all your inner exhaustion and irony—had you known you were going to get sick anyway, you never would have let Crosshair sleep on the sofa.

You got up and didn’t bother changing out of your pajamas. You walked into the living room to find Crosshair was already awake and sitting up on the couch sipping a cup of coffee with a movie in the background, its volume low. He still had a blanket around him, but he didn’t look as groggy as he had the day before. More than that, his handsome features instantly adopted a grin and a heartfelt laugh when he laid eyes on you standing at the edge of the living room in your pajamas, your hair messy as it could ever be, sneezing, and groaning in frustration.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Crosshair shamelessly teased you.

“You did this to me,” you frowned, and your features scrunched even more when Crosshair laughed at the way you were now pronouncing your m’s.

“Funny how the tables turn, darlin’,” Crosshair smirked.

“And I suppose you’re feeling better?” You raised a brow at him.

“Better than yesterday, but…” Crosshair looked around at the living room before looking back at you. “I could use another day of rest.”

You smiled at him. “Lucky.”

Crosshair gave a light chuckle and opened one of his arms, inviting you to sit next to him under the warmth of his blanket. You slouched your way over to him and took a seat, snuggling into his lean figure, and Crosshair wrapped his arm and the rest of the blanket around you, gently kissing the side of your head.

“You want some soup?” He asked you.

You nodded, snuggling deeper into Crosshair’s warmth.

“I’ll call Wrecker,” Crosshair said before planting another gentle kiss on your temple and reaching for his holopad, and as long as you were curled up to him, the day ahead of you could take whatever turns it wanted.

[beegomess]

Song that represents your relationship - Lana's Version || Slytherin Boys

Summary: Just my insight on what music best fits your relationship. Warning: None

Requests are open!

Blaise Zabini || Young and Beautiful

The choice of the song "Young and Beautiful" reflects the depth of the love between you and Blaise, a love that has blossomed and matured over the years. Since you met, the connection between you has always been special, but recently, that feeling has transformed into something truly intense and enduring. Blaise sees you as the ideal partner for a lifetime, and his love transcends mere physical attraction, marked by deep respect and unwavering loyalty. He makes plans for the future with the certainty that what you have is solid and true.

When you’re with Blaise, you feel safe and loved, knowing that his loyalty and commitment are constant, even in the face of adversity. "Young and Beautiful" captures the essence of this eternal love, which does not fade with time but instead strengthens and matures. The song celebrates the beauty of a relationship that is not limited to youth but is enriched by true partnership and the strength of the commitment you share.

Draco Malfoy || Money, Power, Glory

Your relationship with Draco is characterized by a blend of luxury, ambition, and vulnerability. He comes from a powerful family, which profoundly affects the way he interacts with the world—and with you. "Money, Power, Glory" perfectly reflects Draco’s side that craves power and status, yet finds in you a refuge for his emotional fragility. He loves you but also struggles with pride, family legacy, and the weight of maintaining an impenetrable image.

With Draco, love often mingles with the pursuit of control and influence. He is possessive, not just regarding you but also about being seen as someone important, both to the world and to himself. He doesn’t show much affection in public, which sometimes frustrates you, but when you’re alone, he allows himself to be just Draco—the boy who, behind the arrogance, loves you deeply. Expensive gifts, grand gestures, and the desire to impress you are part of his way of loving, but what he truly desires, deep down, is your understanding and support. In your relationship, he seeks more than power and glory: he wants to be loved, even when he hides behind that facade.

Lorenzo Berkshire || Sad Girl

"Sad Girl" reflects the more melancholic side of your relationship with Lorenzo. He is kind and loving, the type of boyfriend who listens to you and deeply cares about your feelings. But his lack of jealousy and excessive kindness toward everyone around him, including the girls who flirt with him, creates a subtle tension that leaves you frustrated and insecure at times. Although Lorenzo would never betray you, you can’t help but feel uneasy about how easily others approach him.

Lorenzo loves you in an open and vulnerable way, always ready to listen and support you, but the absence of conflicts or clearer boundaries sometimes makes you feel like you’re dealing with a one-sidedly idealized love. "Sad Girl" represents this ambiguity: you see yourself as someone who loves deeply but also feels a bit lost amidst the way Lorenzo interacts with the world around him, always so willing to be kind, even when it affects you.

Despite these insecurities, you know he truly loves you, and the connection between you, especially the friendship you share, is something you value greatly. Deep down, you feel like a "Sad Girl"—passionate about someone wonderful but always grappling with mixed feelings about how he opens up so much to the world and not just to you.

Mattheo Riddle || Heroin

Your relationship with Mattheo is like a drug addiction, an irresistible force that seems to consume everything around when you’re together. The attraction between you is so intense and visceral that the world seems to disappear, and "Heroin" perfectly captures this whirlwind of emotions. Although arguments are frequent, reconciliation is always explosive, reflecting the intensity of a love that is both passionate and tumultuous. Mattheo is protective and, at times, possessive, making you feel loved and desired, but also threatened by the possibility of losing yourself in this whirlwind.

Mattheo’s devotion is almost obsessive, and he is willing to ignore all others to be with you. Despite the intensity that makes you question whether this love can be sustained, the attraction and emotional bond between you are so strong that you never truly manage to walk away. The song "Heroin" encapsulates this complex and irresistible dynamic, reflecting the difficulty of breaking away from a love that, despite its chaos, is undeniably powerful and addictive.

Theodore Nott || West Coast

Your relationship with Theodore Nott has a charming duality, where the rhythm between you is sometimes calm and gentle, and other times marked by unexpected passion. "West Coast" reflects this oscillation: there is a tranquility, almost a melancholy, in the time you spend together, but at the same time, a magnetic and unpredictable force when desire arises. Theodore is someone who prefers calm, comfortable silence, nights spent only with you, away from the chaos of parties and others. He is your refuge, your safe place, but the fire between you never goes out, only burns in a controlled manner.

When you’re alone, there is a quiet that makes you feel complete, as if the world is just the time you spend together. His low, serene voice, his subtle provocations, the endearing Italian nicknames—these create an intimate atmosphere you wouldn’t trade for anything. At the same time, there’s something wild behind this serenity. Theodore, although he seems calm and distant to others, is a silent force—and when he touches you, you feel the warmth and intensity he reserves only for you.

"West Coast" captures this feeling of living in two worlds: the quiet of being with Theodore, away from expectations and curious gazes, and the uncontrollable desire that exists between you, always lurking, waiting to manifest. He loves you in a devoted and profound way, but he is also capable of surprising you, leaving you always wanting more, like the waves that come and go on the beach, always present but never the same.

Tom Riddle || Born to Die

Your relationship with Tom is a love story that was written long before you met, as if fate had mapped out every step until you crossed paths. "Born to Die" reflects the intensity of this inevitable destiny, where you were born for each other—not just to love but to share a greater purpose, something that transcends the ordinary and mundane. There’s a sense that the love between you is as strong as it is tragic, that, like the power Tom seeks, your relationship is inescapably tied to sacrifice.

You and Tom are souls that recognize each other instantly. From the beginning, there was something in you that was deeper than mere physical or emotional attraction—an understanding, a force that pushes you in the same direction, even if that direction is dangerous. You were born to share this path together, knowing that, in the end, both of you would be willing to die for your goals. Tom’s love is fierce and singular, and he will never allow anything to interfere with his pursuit of power. Similarly, you feel that your life is intertwined with his, as if there were no choice but to walk side by side, until the end, no matter what happens.

The song evokes the idea that your lives were meant to be this way—you are two beings born to find glory and power, but also to face the consequences together. Loving Tom is accepting that your destiny is not one of simplicity or complete happiness but of a journey that will culminate in something greater. There is a certain tragic comfort in knowing that you are destined for this path, where love and ambition mix, even if it means you might lose yourselves in the process.

_______________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[kynizen]

♡ obey me hcs ~ fading

prompt. as your absence from the present day persists, the demons find themselves struggling. though your room remains in pristine condition, other indicators of your presence are slowly fading. gn reader.

ft. asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor

warnings. angst, hurt no comfort, mentions of depression & associated behaviors, slight suggestive mentions in asmo’s section

a/n — gods, obey me is a series with so much angst potential. as much as I adore fluff, angst is definitely something. I hope you enjoy this little set! the other four brothers will also have a set coming soon! <3

🌧️ asmodeus ;;

~ Asmo is one of the most affected by your disappearance. He tries his best to play it off casually— tries to act like he usually does. Because you never stay gone for long, right? You always find a solution and come back home to him, so surely, this time would be no different.

~ However, as the days pass, you don’t return. Solomon’s assessment and assistance doesn’t seem to be helping, either. While the sorcerer is certain that you will return… it’s anyone’s guess as to when it’ll happen.

~ When that realization sets in, Asmodeus becomes far more gloomy and upset. He sees you in everything he does— he can hardly enjoy himself when the person he loves just as much as himself isn’t there. Each time he tries to have a spa night, go shopping, or take cute photos, he’s reminded of you.

~ It always ends with him scrolling through countless photos with you— wondering how long it’d be until he saw your smile again— until he saw your presence once more.

~ Asmo is desperate to feel close to you again. He’s afraid of touching anything in your room for fear of losing the last proof that your existence has a mark in this timeline, but he can’t help himself.

~ He ends up stealing your clothing from your closet. If you had a perfume or cologne you liked wearing, he’d take that too. He reasons that he’ll just replace it when you return… if you ever come home.

~ For the most part, he holes up in his room, taking less and less care of himself as the days pass. He’ll spray your perfume/cologne on his things just to be reminded of you— just to feel like you hadn’t disappeared. He’ll wear your clothing to feel close to you— to get the ghost of a comforting presence he can’t help but miss.

~ As time continues to pass, Asmo becomes unable to look in the mirror. He knows he hasn’t been taking care of his appearance. On top of that, he doesn’t want to see his unblemished skin— not when his last memory was of you biting bruises into his skin and leaving marks on his hips.

~ That physical reminder that you loved him— up until you disappeared— he’d be unable to keep himself together if he had to see it fade. Because that’d solidify that this wasn’t just some nightmare. You were really somewhere else— and this time, there was no way to reach you.

~ At this point, insecurity starts to rear its ugly head. If you’re to return, will you even love him anymore? If he’s been too sad to take care of himself— hardly able to find happiness in anything without you— would you still love him?

~ Would you abandon him again the moment you realize that he’d desperately need to cling to you— that he had to cling to remnants of your presence just to stay sane?

~ He hates himself for thinking that. He knows you didn’t abandon him— that you wouldn’t have left if it had been your choice. But he can’t help the way his emotions muddy his mind. You were always there to help him when things got this complicated.

~ Asmo spends many nights crying— listening to your voicemails and drowning himself in your memory.

~ Eventually, he does get to a point where his brothers intervene to try their best to help him. They try to keep him distracted, help him take care of himself, and keep him company so he doesn’t feel the pain of your absence.

~ But… they know just as well as Asmodeus does that it’ll never be the same. Asmodeus loves himself, yes, but…

~ He specifically loves who he is with you. Now that you’re gone… he doesn’t feel nearly as cute, pretty, handsome— nearly as himself as he does when you’re around.

🌧️ beelzebub ;;

~ Despite how pained Beel is at your disappearance, he’d worry himself over the way it’d affect Belphie as opposed to himself. He’d spend a lot of time worrying about everyone else aside from himself— wanting to ensure that his brothers eat, sleep, and take care of themselves.

~ However, when he has a moment alone— a moment that isn’t made busy by caring for others— the crushing weight of your absence weighs heavily on him.

~ In moments of doubt, he could always go to you. You were always there to reassure and comfort him— to take care of him and his needs when he was so focused on everyone else. You always made sure that he wasn’t kind to the point of self-sabotage.

~ Without you around, he notices himself smiling less and less— finding it hard to be optimistic without your light shining on him. He wouldn’t lash out, instead internalizing everything he feels.

~ Is he allowed to be upset with you when it was out of your control? Is he allowed to be angry? He isn’t sure. Who would he even direct anger at? He wasn’t mad at you, just at the situation you happened to end up in for whatever reason— whoever was behind your disappearance is to blame, not you. He knows that.

~ Beelzebub struggles greatly with your fading presence. Leftovers you cooked slowly dwindled, and the snack stock you shared with him grew more and more scarce as the days passed. It becomes more and more apparent to him that you are gone.

~ You never left the fridge empty for long. The snack pile always seemed to replenish the moment it started growing the slightest bit smaller. On top of that, Beel felt like he never went hungry with you around. You always carried something for him, whether you were out and about or at RAD.

~ Now… he isn’t even sure if anyone in the House or Lamentation has even cooked, let alone went shopping for groceries in the wake of your disappearance. Hell, Beel wasn’t even sure the last time he had the strong appetite he associated with his sin.

~ Nowadays, he was eating what’d be considered a “normal” volume for other demons, but was starkly out of character for Beelzebub. No matter what his brothers brought him— what people tried to offer him in an attempt to get him to eat more— to smile again— it never worked.

~ He’d eat a little, enjoy a fleeting moment of happiness before remembering that you were no longer there to enjoy food with him, and he’d quickly excuse himself. Food tasted bland without you— like it was all the same taste and texture.

~ He used to enjoy mealtime because it meant lighthearted conversation and warm company during each and every meal. Now, each meal he shared with brothers was framed by the lack of your presence. And meals alone did nothing to satiate what hunger he did feel.

~ It became nothing more than a function to him. He’d try recreating your recipes just to become frustrated or disappointed when it didn’t taste the same. It didn’t have your touch— your added flair. Everything he made had that same bland, tasteless flavor to it.

~ He tries his best to continue his day to day while coping with your absence. He knows he has to still go out and do things— that’s how people feel better, right?

~ But his daily routine simply reminds you that it isn’t the same routine if you aren’t there. Waking up early to share a meal, walking to RAD together, dragging Belphie out of bed together— none of it felt the same when you weren’t there.

~ Beel’s daily life starts to lose color. And though he feels he shouldn’t burden his brothers with his struggles, it’s hard for them not to notice. When he forces a smile or forces himself to eat so they don’t worry, it only increases their ever-growing concern.

~ They try their best to keep him company and urge him to open up more to them, but they know they can’t force him.

~ Beel has a preconceived notion, likely from their past as a family, that makes him believe he has to be a mediator— he has to keep the peace between everyone with no regard to himself.

~ And you… were the only one who managed to break those walls down and cared deeply for him. Now, they hope you’ll return before Beel becomes entirely unreachable.

🌧️ belphegor ;;

~ Belphegor tries his best to act apathetic toward your disappearance. It isn’t a big deal— he can wait for you to return. Though, he isn’t exactly fooling anyone at all.

~ How could he fool anyone when he slept in your room almost every night? How could he fool anyone when he was adamant on not waking up and attending class if it wasn’t you rousing him from slumber?

~ At the end of the day, Belphie doesn’t want to admit how much of a wreck he is without you. He already views himself in a less than favorable light. He’s a burden upon his siblings— hardly able to last an entire day without sleeping, practically collapsing, the moment his body demanded rest.

~ However, you never made him feel that way. Never once did you make him believe that the condition that came with his sin made him a burden. You were happy to take care of him. You carried him when he fell asleep— let him rest on your shoulder between classes and woke him up when it was time to go.

~ How could he manage even a day’s worth of tiring work if you weren’t there to support him? He’d be reminded all over again that he’s weighed down by his sin. He’d be reminded that it’s hard to manage without you.

~ Sure, he could likely manage it without you, but he doesn’t want to. Wouldn’t that just erase your presence from his life? Getting his act together means accepting that maybe he didn’t need you as much as he thought— and that’s something he refuses to accept. In his eyes, that’s essentially accepting that you wouldn’t return.

~ Then again, the dreamscape wasn’t much better than reality. Sure, he could meet you in his dreams, but he was always aware that that’s all it was— a fantasy. It wasn’t actually you. It never would be.

~ So Belphie starts suffering from periods of insomnia followed by long periods of slumber exacerbated by the exhaustion of his insomnia. He’ll spend hours upon hours awake at the dead of night, waiting for you to walk back through those doors.

~ Then, he spends nearly days asleep in your bed, unable to be roused from his deep sleep— clinging on to the remnants of you left in your room. Nowadays, he can hardly sleep unless he’s surrounded by your scent— and even that’s slowly disappearing from your blankets and bedsheets. He’s afraid to think about what’ll happen when it does entirely disappear.

~ Some days, he holes away in his old room— a quiet sanctuary where you’d spend a night in with him. He never touched anything you left there. Your clothing and accessories that you left still remained in the same place— your blankets still a mess on your side of the pile of pillows you’d sleep in with him.

~ Every time he looks at the things you left— every time he thinks of you— he feels regret. He knows that it wasn’t your choice to leave, but did you stay away because of him? Did you truly never forgive him after all? Was experiencing a new timeline amplifying preexisting resentment you held toward him?

~ Was it his fault that you hadn’t come home?

~ The mere thought is enough for him to send him down an ugly spiral. Just like with Lilith— this is her situation all over again. Disappearing, not dead, but always somewhere out of reach. Somewhere away from him.

~ At a certain point, he’d close himself off from his brothers entirely. Beelzebub would be able to get through to him since they’re twins, but the rest of them would be effectively shut out. Nothing they did would soothe the pain caused by your absence.

~ It gets to the point where Belphie sheds tears in his sleep— haunted by nightmares of his past mixed with your present. He’s more lethargic than ever— his sleep constantly interrupted by visions of your death, rejection, and hatred— all of that mixed with reemerging visions of the things that happened to Lilith. Every time he startles awake, tears silently stream down his face.

~ His brothers can only watch, unable to do much more than offer support that Belphegor doesn’t even want.

~ They wonder how much longer Belphie will last. When you return… they hope it’ll be to a Belphegor that isn’t just a shell of his former self. They hope you’ll come home on time.

tags.

[maomao-words]

If any of you know my writing style by heart, you would know how much I crave angst. So here's some angsty Wind Breaker hcs, because why not (and also because I like watching people suffer).

TW: Angst.

Getting Rejected by them: (Sakura, Togame, and Kiryu)

Sakura Haruka:

"Huh?" Sakura's voice instantly rose in a panicked manner, a familiar blush gracing his features. You clutched your hands tighter to your chest, holding your breath, praying to God to answer your desperate wish.

But Sakura's eyes shifted away from yours, pure discomfort reflecting off his mismatching irises, before he stammered out. "Wh-- where did you even get that idea?! Why the hell would I date you?!"

Annoyance, or perhaps even exasperation, was embedded in his voice. You prided yourself in your deep knowledge of Sakura. His likes and dislikes, his fighting style and preferred routine, and even the different meanings his words usually implied.

Oh. You slowly lowered your hands to clutch at the fabric of your dress instead. You just got rejected.

It was not unexpected. You knew just how much Sakura struggled with feelings and affection. You were even among the first to offer Sakura your friendship, and who remained patient as he slowly navigated this unknown territory. You were certainly content to wait for him. Wait for his feelings to, hopefully, blossom into what haunted your chest at all hours of the day. Wait until the day finally comes and he feels ready to start a new chapter with you by his side.

But your were not ready for the harsh distance. For the cold shoulder and icy gaze that Sakura directed at you starting from that day.

It hurt more than anything you have ever imagined.

Yet, you did not stop trying. It was him, after all. All he needed was some time, some understanding, and some patience. Right. Right?

The day came, not long after, where Sakura seemed to regain his old self in front of you. His eyes properly locked into yours again, and a familiar blush settled into his cheeks as he gazed at you and began to speak.

But what Sakura merely saw was your polite, yet apathetic expression staring back at him, hinting that the past he was trying to re-open now was not an interest of yours. When your eyes left his in a hurry, as you affectionally greeted Kiryu from your seat, Sakura realized that he has lost you for good.

Togame Jo:

The day of your failed confession came and went. The sun rose, calling the world back from its sleepy state for a while, before setting again. Life continued. It did not even blink at your heartache, nor stop at the continuous sounds of your sobs.

You were not that important in the grand scale of things. Heck, you were barely important enough for him to respond with a "sounds like a pain in the ass" before continuing on his way, a lazy wave thrown behind his shoulder.

You did not know how cruel Togame could be. Or maybe you simply refused to see it, for you thought yourself special.

Even after you skipped school for days, Togame's expression remained the same as always, languid and content as he watched his teammates banter back and forth in the middle of the classroom. While the others overwhelmed you with questions on your whereabouts and well-being, Togame simply looked on, satisfied that you were back, but not understanding the fuss surrounding your absence.

Dying would have probably felt less painful. You thought to yourself as you laughed at the boys' chatter, a laugh void of any real mirth, before finally sitting down next to Togame.

But what could you even do? Scream? Cry? Hit someone? Hide away for the rest of your life? All of these were inconceivable options. Not when you saw how unconcerned Togame was. You simply tried to hold on to a hand that never fit yours. That was all to it. Now it was time to let go. It was time to let him go.

Togame felt that something was off, yet he was unable to place his finger on it. You were there, next to him, laughing at his jokes and joining in the fun. As usual. As always.

But why were your arm hooked into Choji's own instead of his like you're used to? Why did you make sure to split your dessert with Shishitoren's captain when you were always so protective over it in the past?

When did you stop bringing your warm sweaters to school even when the weather turned cold? Why did you only seem to playfully beg Choji for his jacket and wear it with the sweetest smile as you followed him along?

When did you... replace Togame?

Kiryu Mitsuki:

Kiryu's soft smile slightly faltered at your confession, but it did not fall. He kept his face neutral and his voice as gentle as always, before whispering the words you dreaded most: "I'm sorry, darling. I have simply never thought of you that way."

Ah. You wanted to cry. You wanted to curl around yourself in a tight ball and scream until your throat was raw. You wanted to hit someone, anyone, until your knuckles bled. You wanted to do anything, anything, but stand there as Kiryu tried to gently turn you down.

But you couldn't do that. Not in front of him. Not in front of your beloved, the one who has saved you from those perverts weeks ago, the one who held your hand, and gently dabbed at the tears streaking down your face that evening.

So, you softly smiled at Kiryu, lowered your head to the floor, and left the room without looking back. Not even when you heard him yelling your name from behind.

You were okay. No, you would be okay. You already prepared your heart for this. You knew that no matter how much attention you put into your clothes, or how hard you tried to make yourself seen in front of him, Kiryu would not look at you. He shone ever so brightly, and your dull light simply could not appeal to him.

From that day onwards, you kept your distance and replaced your cheery attitude toward Kiryu with cold politeness. While you could not find it in your heart to completely cut him off, you were unable to keep playing the role of his closest companion without feeling like you were suffocating each and every second he looked away to another. That was the way you chose to protect your heart.

But Kiryu would not let it go. His eyes never strayed from you each time you walked into a room, and his hand kept reaching out for yours whenever you came close enough for him to touch.

But even if you were never physically distant, Kiryu knew that everything has changed. The sparkle in your eyes, your gentle smiles, and pleasant laughs were all directed away from him. Toward someone else. Toward Sakura, of all people.

Kiryu's mouth was filled with bitterness at the sight. If only he knew that the taste of losing you would be this sour, he would have tightly held the hand you offered, and never let it go.

[yuutasdream]

how would yuuta be when he realizes hes fallen in love with u ⁉️⁉️

: ̗̀➛𝕬𝖒 𝕴 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 ꨄ︎

Yuta and you started off as friends, your bond growing stronger with each passing day. You shared laughs, inside jokes, and countless memories, forming a connection that felt unbreakable. Yet, you couldn't shake off the growing feelings you had for Yuta.

One day, unable to contain your emotions any longer, you mustered up the courage to confess your feelings to Yuta. Heart pounding, palms sweating, you poured your heart out, laying bare the depth of your affection. "Yuta, I... I have something to tell you," you stammered, trying to find the right words. "I've developed feelings for you. I really care about you, more than just as a friend." you held out a chocolate as a gesture to show appreciation.

Yuta's expression softened as he listened, his eyes reflecting surprise and perhaps a hint of uncertainty. "I... I appreciate your honesty," he replied, his voice gentle yet conflicted. "But I need some time to think about this. I value our friendship so much, and I don't want to do anything to ruin it."

With those words, Yuta's response hung in the air, leaving you with a mix of hope and trepidation. Though his rejection stung, you respected his need for time to process his feelings. “also... I'm leaving the next week..” yuta noted adding salt on the scar. “oh it's okay... Have fun at your trip” you both parted away each one on his own.

Yet even after all or that yuta kept in touch with you even after what happened not wanting to make things awkward nor break the friendship he loved the most. The friendship between you and him.

As Yuta continued his journey, he couldn't shake off the growing feeling of emptiness without you by his side. He missed the jokes and your vibes. The picturesque landscapes and exciting adventures seemed to lose their luster in your absence. Each passing day felt like a struggle, a constant reminder of how much he longed to share these moments with you.

Then came the fateful day when he received the message from his best friend toge telling him about your broken phone. It hit him like a wave, leaving him feeling stranded and disconnected. Suddenly, the simple act of hearing your voice or seeing your messages became a distant dream, leaving a void in his heart that nothing else could fill.

Days turned into nights filled with restless thoughts of you, of the conversations he could have had, the jokes you could have shared. It was in those moments of solitude that Yuta realized just how much you meant to him, how your presence had become an important part of his life.

Unable to bear the separation any longer, Yuta made a spontaneous decision to cut his trip short and return back to jujutsu high. The place he knew that he'll find you there. The journey back felt like an eternity, each passing mile fueling his determination to see you again.

Arriving at your dorm's door unexpectedly, his heart pounded with a mix of nerves and excitement. When you opened the door, surprise etched across your face, Yuta's breath caught in his throat. But as he looked into your eyes, all his fears melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose.

"I missed you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with raw emotion. “miss me..? It's been only a couple of days” you said flattered not knowing how to express your feelings looking at all of the souvenirs he got you to express his love.

You welcomed him inside, and as you sat together, Yuta poured his heart out. "Being away from you made me realize how much you mean to me," he admitted, his gaze never wavering from yours. "I can't imagine my life without you, and I just had to come back and tell you... I love you." the way the words poured out of his mouth you were still in shock.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt words, feeling the weight of his love enveloping you. "I love you too, Yuta," you whispered, a smile breaking through the tears wrapping your arms around him. You were really happy that he finally realized his feelings and got certain about it. “next time I promise to book you a flight with me..” he said giggling, “I want nothing to break us apart”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your embrace, Yuta knew that no distance or obstacle could ever diminish the love he felt for you. And as he held you close, he knew that home wasn't a place—it was wherever you were, in your arms.

[captainpulisic]

the rust that grew between telephones - c. pulisic

authors note: saw a video on twitter where christians parents called him a 'shy, soft spoken kind of guy' and I got really soft over him gif credit to owner word count: 2.6 k

you’re dead asleep when the phone screen begins to light up the room. you blindly reach for the it on your nightstand, refusing to fully exit your slumbered state. surely you had set your alarm clock to the wrong time last night, because there was no fucking way it was already time to start the day. you’d bet your life that you had just fallen asleep, at max, an hour ago. 

it’s okay, you try to convince yourself. it’s probably only midnight and I have many, many hours of sleep left. 

yet, as you peek one eye open, it is not your blaring alarm illuminating your screen and room. you’re met with christians contact photo. suddenly, you feel wide awake. the sleepiness and appeal to go back to bed is long forgotten, now only eager to hear his voice. 

answering the call, his raspiness indicated he’d also just woken up. you hear his low voice, “hey baby.”

oh.

oh how you missed his voice, especially as the first thing to hear in the morning. if you closed your eyes, you could perfectly envision waking up by his side. tired eyes and soft giggles, as he pulls you close to him. you feel slightly pathetic over how your heart begins to hurt. it had only been a few weeks since you’d last seen him, yet the yearning was unbearable. you missed him. you always do when you’re apart, but recently it has been worse. your skin itched for his, lonely nights spent counting down the minutes until the season would be over and he’d be coming back home. 

“hey you,” trying to sound as awake as you can, stifiling a yawn that wants to escape you. he must not realize how late it is on your end. sitting up, you pinch yourself a few times to become more alert. you manage out a somewhat energetic, “everything okay?”

“yeah, everythings okay over here.” his voice is softer than usual, sadder if anything. he pauses for a moment, you can feel his hesitation before speaking. soon enough he whispers his confession, uncertain and slightly embarrassed. you might have missed it if you weren’t hanging on to every word he was saying. “I just really miss you.” 

your heart aches even more, if possible. “i miss you, too.”

“like, really bad y/n,” he’s always struggled with properly articulating his feelings. he prefers to affirm his love for you with simple, small acts and sweet, shy touches. telling you his true feelings always resulted in him turning a blushing and stuttering mess. therefore, you know how much this must really be affecting him, for him to outwardly say this. your heart breaks as he goes on, “do you know how much it sucks to wake up and not have you right next to me? it’s horrible.”

you do know, you always feel like that in his absence. 

“i know, my love.” you sit up, trying to wipe away the weariness from your eyes. “but we’ll be together soon, yeah?”

“soon.” he confirms, it’s the only promise that's managed to keep him sane. 

hoping to keep him on the line and distracted from the ungodly hour he woke you up, you ask him about what he has planned for the day. its meaningless talk, really. he goes on about the scheduled training and new tricks they’ve been working on, occasionally complaining about the team's current slump. once in a while you hum, letting him know you're attentive to every word he’s saying. yet you’re more focused on how soothing his voice was, it was all warmth and safeness to you.

still clueless of the time, he asks what your plans are. you begin to mumble about the exams and work you have planned for tomorrow- well, for today. you too, in return, complain of how exhausted uni life has been treating you and the endless pile of assignments you can never seem to finish. 

your error is droning on about how tiring it all is, because it just makes you revert back to your drowsy state. you don’t even realize when your words begin to die off and a rather large yawn breaks loose.

“y/n? are you falling asleep?” christian frowns. he had been too wrapped up in the horrible mood he had woken up in, he hadn’t thought of the wretched time difference. “wait, what time is it?” 

“uhm,” your hesitation lasts too long for his liking. instantly, it all clicks for him.

“fuck”, he groans. “it’s the middle of the night, isn’t it?”

“no.”

deny deny deny. 

if he realized it was so fucking late, he’d send you back to sleep. that was the worst fate he could condemn you to, you were sure of it. with him training all day and the drastic time difference, moments to properly talk were rare. you weren't going to give up this precious, stolen time with him. your scarce phone calls consisted of quick recounts of what you'd both done that day and gentle whispers of how much you’d missed each other. too soon, one of you would have to hang up to either get started on your day while the other had to unwind from their day already spent. 

you didn’t care how childish you sounded, you weren’t going to let him make you go to sleep. he couldn't make you! 

“y/n.” he was much more serious, more stern. when he got like this, you liked to tease him, calling it his ‘captain voice’. that’d usually leave him with reddened cheeks and arguments long forgotten.

it comes out more of a question, then an assurance. “I was already awake?”  

“y/n.” he repeats. yeah, it was a long shot that he’d believe that. 

you mock him, “christian.” 

you hear him begin to huff out his disapproval of your childish antics. much to your dismay, another damned yawn escapes you. no point in trying to win now, you rest your head back on the pillow and accept your defeat. you sigh, “okay, I was asleep.”

he makes a noise that sounds like a mixture of a disappointed groan and a victorious ‘hmph’. 

oh my sweet boy, how I miss you. 

“i’m so sorry,” he’s sputtering out apologies faster than you can try to assure him it’s all okay. “I was dreaming of you and then I woke up and you weren’t here. I felt horrible. I needed to hear your voice before I went insane. I called without thinking, i’m so sorry I woke you. go back to sleep, please.”

your reply is automatic, “no.”

“yes.” he tries (and fails) to reason with you, “you just told me how busy you’re going to be in the morning!”

“you can’t make me!” you argue.

“y/n.”

“so i’ve been called.”

“go back to sleep,” he tries again. you’re tempted to do it just because it’s him asking you. you would do anything he’d ask of you, it's quite humiliating how you’re putty in his hands. no, you have to stand your ground. you had missed him too much and you weren’t ready to say your goodbyes. back to his shy state, “i’m now very embarrassed that I called.”

that irks something in you. you’re stupidly obsessed with him, you’d go days without sleeping if it meant you could always talk to him. the fact that he doesn’t get that offends you quite a bit. if he’s embarrassed over how much he misses you, then you should be utterly humiliated. 

“christian,” your voice comes out harder than you’d planned. “listen to me.”

instantaneously, his protest had stopped and the line had gone silent. you pull the phone away from your face, unsure if he’d hung up to make you go back to your unwanted slumber. no, the call was still connected. putting the phone back to your ear, you barely caught his faint, “yeah?”

“i’m glad you called.” suddenly, you feel as shy as you imagined he did. you also struggle to express your feelings but you’re desperate to keep him on the call, not wanting to part ways yet. “i’ve missed you terribly.”

another pause, “really?”

“I can’t believe you’d even question it,” you utter in disbelief. “of course idiot, ‘m always missing you.”

“i’m not questioning it!” all the clatter on his end of the line has stopped. you’d assumed he was getting ready to leave for training and now you were both left in silence. it takes him a few seconds to gather his thoughts and words. eventually, “i’m sorry, i’m just in my head right now. have i told you how much this distance sucks?”

“i know, my love” the urge to hold him and kiss him is borderline pathetic. trying harder to distract him from the sad thoughts and prior argument, you have to think fast. you drop your voice a tad lower. you try your best to sound as alluring as possible, “that’s why we should really take advantage of the time we have right now. c'mon, think of the fun things we could do at this late, late hour.”

you begin to mumble half-hearted details of what you had in mind, yet christian hums his disapproval.

“y/n, stop trying to seduce me.” the ‘captain voice’ reappears. “it’s only late for you and you’re about to go back to sleep, or else.” 

it’s a teasing threat. you both can’t deny the smiles you’re fighting as the conversation unravels. scolding words but you know him, this was your usual banter. 

“oh, yeah?” you counter back. “what are you going to do when you’re thousands of miles away, huh? and like i’ve said countless times, i’m not even tired!” 

“you yawned three times as you told me ‘all the filthy things’ you wanted to do to me, i’m positive you’re tired.”

“oh baby, I think you need to get your hearing checked because I was not yawning.” you scoff, scolding yourself for getting caught. your brain fumbles trying to think of a good comeback. you blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “that's just how I breathe.”

“then you’re the one who needs to go get checked because thats some weird fucking breathing.”

you snort, “has anyone ever told you how good of a flirt you are?”

“no,” he deadpans, the captain voice more present than ever.

“hmm, I wonder why. should we, maybe, try to figure out why that is?” 

“y/n,” he’s not letting you sidetrack him again. “please, go to sleep.”

you whine once more, “but I wanna keep talking to you.” 

“i know, pretty girl but you have to sleep.”

you feel yourself losing this fight. trying to find some common ground, “will you stay on the call if I go to sleep?”

christian weighs his options, “promise to actually go to sleep?”

“promise to keep talking?” you counter back.

“if i promise, will you stop answering my questions with a question?”

you force yourself to hold back your laughter, “will you?”

he laughs and you’re unashamedly proud that you’re the cause of it. you’re sure you hear him call you a ‘smart ass’ but he swiftly denies it. 

much to your delight, christian begins to tell you an in depth play by play of their last game and how he thought they could improve. half of you wants to fight the sleepiness and continue listening to his rambles, but the sane part of you begs for some needed rest. you don’t even notice when you drift off, slipping back into dreams of the next time you’ll see christian. 

meanwhile, christian chatters on, even after you’ve fallen asleep. as he gathers his things to leave, he talks about everything and nothing. he tells you about how mason gave up on learning chess within the first ten minutes of christian trying to teach him. he tells you about how he found a new restaurant for the both of you to try next time you visit. the whole drive to the bridge, he recounts funny things that had happened with the guys and the latest gossips he knew you liked hearing about. he even managed into sneaking in a few, shy ‘i love yous’. as he went on and on, he knew you’d want to hear this again, once conscious, but he didn’t mind. he’d happily repeat himself a million times for you. 

-

he’s gotten even more handsome, you’re sure of it. you hadn’t thought it was possible but here he was, in all his glory. big brown eyes and now close enough to chart the freckles across his cheeks. those stupid phone calls and banter don’t measure up to the way he’s looking at you right now.

he had told you there was no need to pick him up from the airport, that you shouldn’t subject yourself to the hassle. clearly you went against his wishes, tackling him as soon as you had sights on him. that's how you were now, pressed flush against him, arms entangled around each other with promises of never letting go. 

“hey baby,” he whispers, lips pressed to your ear. “lets go home, yeah?”

instead of replying, your wrapped arms give him a gentle squeeze. unaware of the few curious glances directed towards the pair of you, you wonder if it’s physically possible to get any closer to him. 

“i’m never leaving your side again.” you mumble, face pressed to his chest. you try to peek up a glance at him, looking away immediately when you see his heavy gaze already on you. why does he have to look at me like that? it makes me feel like i’m on fire. slightly shaking your head, “i’m serious, one day they’re going to have to pry my corpse from yours.”

his dimple is more prominent than ever, “y/n, you really need to stop trying to seduce me.”

you both laugh, basking in each other's presence. christian presses a kiss to your hair, reaffirming how much he had missed you. his left arm never unwrapping from your waist, even when you begin to walk to the car.  

it’s a quick drive from the airport to your shared home. after unpacking and dinner and intimate touches were shared, you’d found yourselves laid in bed. your head resting on his chest, your fingers were mindlessly tracing the outlines on his tattooed arm. 

christian lets out a content sigh, “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this, missed you.” 

“i missed you more.”

after the busy evening you had just spent, it’s no surprise when you see him begin to snooze off. you don’t mind, you finally had him in arms reach and reassurance that you had many days to have the conversations that had been too scant. 

 

you murmur, soft and quietly, “go to sleep, baby.”

“hey,” he barely peeks one eye open, the corner of his lip threatening to quirk up. “that's my line.”

you roll your eyes, giving him one final kiss to his bare shoulder “night, i love you.”

instead of responding, he wraps his arms around your waist and flips you to your side. you let out a surprised yelp but nonetheless, your body automatically finds the perfect way to fit with his. instantly, he pulls you close to him, leaving a delicate kiss on your earlobe. you barely hear his low, “i love you too.”

after that, his faint snores are all that is heard. you follow in his steps, eyes growing heavier by the seconds. yes, sleeping is much better when christians voice rings right next to you and not through a phone.

feedback is greatly appreciated please!

[sunsetcougar]

I’m on a roll with the Lyrebird AU! It’s consuming my brain cells!

Back down in Hell Charlie is... Not doing great. She’s essentially just become a depression burrito on Vaggie’s side of the bed and has lost a lot of the will she had to fight for her hotel and people. Suddenly the upcoming extermination doesn’t seem as pressing as it had. It wasn’t hard to figure out where Vaggie had gone, and knowing she went back to Heaven hurts so, so much.

Everyone else in the hotel can also feel Vaggie’s absence, the hole where their fiery manager is supposed to be.

Lucifer is somewhere between furious and hopeless. On some level he’s not surprised that when given the chance Vaggie ran back to the pearly gates, but he’d hoped her love for Charlie would override the desire to return. Apparently not. He’s also stuck in political hell because Heaven’s council is digging in their heels. Only Emily and a couple others are on his side, but they’re far outnumbered by the angels who insist that they’ve already compromised. The hotel won’t be touched again, so any sinner trying for redemption can just go there and be safe.

Husk is internally beating himself up. He knew Vaggie was struggling, he saw it, he should have done something to keep her from getting so low that she felt like she had to run back to the people who mutilated and abandoned her. He starts drinking more, trying to numb himself to how utterly shitty he feels about his lack of action.

Angel tries to pretend he doesn’t miss Vaggie, tries to cope by pretending like always, but it’s obvious to everyone that he’s struggling with her absence. He viewed her almost like a little sister despite her being much older than him, and has now lost that bond twice in his existence.

Niffty and Alastor are the least outwardly affected. Niffty does seem to miss Vaggie, and often makes comments about how sad Charlie is now.

Alastor on the other hand… well he is ever the opportunist, he just needs to figure out how to get around Lucifer, who has become very, very protective over his hurting daughter.

[alicentflorent]

why did they retcon Aemond being Alicent's favourite? it was Aemond that she was closest to in season one not Helaena

I couldn’t tell you. I was going to make a post analysing their relationship a few weeks back because it was a very interesting dynamic before they decided to act like they never even had the bond that was shown in season one.

I’m not sure if she favoured Aemond over Helaena but Aemond was definitely the child she seemed closest to. I think she was more maternal towards helaena, Alicent saw helaena as her innocent, sensitive child and she was always trying to connect with her, taking an interest in her interests but they struggled to connect specifically because helaena was touch avergent and recoiled from attempts at physical affection. As for her relationship with Aemond it was probably the strongest but Aemond was also pretty adultifed because Alicent used to lean on him for emotional support and Aemond tried to be the perfect dutiful son that Aegon wasn’t. I think the fact that viserys left her to raise the kids alone, shows no concern for them and her fears for her family and Ottos absence made her push her sons into that role, aegon finds it too much pressure and just wants to be a teenager but Aemond steps up. Alicent had her own complicated bond with Otto that could definitely explain how she parents her sons.

The driftmark scene where she is ready to kill and die for him and he’s trying to comfort her, reassure and protect her from viserys’ anger was heartbreaking. I hate that they just had them not speaking at the start of season one, a week earlier he was still shown to be the dutiful favoured son and I get that lucerys’ death and the start of the war affected that relationship but we never saw the initial reaction. She’s giving him the silent treatment, he resents her for being weak etc the breakdown of their relationship would have made sense if they dedicated time for it. Parentified kids resent their parents, Parents can resent what their kids become, the relationship is complex but it was not explored. Everything was reduced to “Alicent is a terrible mother who hates her sons and Aemond is school shooter type who will set his brother on fire and essentially tell his mother to get back to the kitchen” the breakdown of Alicent and Aemonds relationship ultimately comes down to the assassination of both of their characters and the fact that the show does not want the targtowers to have a complex but loving relationship

[thursdayinspace]

Y'know what? I was sitting in a funk, thinking thoughts, and I thought: y'know what'll get me outta this? Listening to a mutual talk about their passions, passionately.

So, tell me: top 3 Revival moments that aren't MSRy. I wanna know layers. I wanna know intrigue. I wanna be GRIPPED by your love for that series. >:DDDDDD

thank you for this dream assignment. okay. *cracks knuckles* let's begin. i don't know if these are my *top* 3, but they're the ones that come to mind immediately.

1.

I'll start with one that you may argue is still msr, but this very specific bit is not, so hear me out. I'm talking about Scully in "Plus One" coming to Mulder's room asking him to hold her. This is all about Scully and the lessons she has had to learn the hard way about using her words, and about taking that big risk of showing vulnerability. For me, we can go all the way back here to season 2, "Irresistible," where she is shaken up to the point of going for a counseling session where she talks about herself in the second person, and then admits she doesn't want Mulder to know how much the case is getting to her. That's not about Mulder specifically. That's about Scully wanting to prove herself to her brothers as a kid. That's about being a woman in a male-dominated field - both in science and the FBI. She knows her weakness can be used against her. So putting up a facade has become second nature to her. It is also important to note that she *does not* open up to Mulder at the end of "Irresistible." She has reached a breaking point. She still doesn't talk.

In "Plus One," she asks for help. Once again she is shaken up by a case to the point where she has trouble handling it. But she is able this time to admit it. And I'm sure that is a hard-earned skill. Yes, she can open up here and ask for help because it's Mulder. But that she's admitting *at all* that she is struggling, and not even that but *asking for support*? That's big. And that has something to do with their relationship, but also not. That's Scully having learned that being scared is okay. That's Scully being more settled in her own skin, more confident, knowing her own strength and therefore being able to drop her defenses occasionally.

2.

In "Ghouli," the scene where William is on that autopsy table and Scully, thinking he's dead, explains to him all about his adoption and how affected she was by it. It's an important moment because I always felt like they completely dropped the ball on that in season 9. She gave up her kid, after it had been her biggest wish to be a mom for so long, and then the next time we hear about it is when she talks about it with Mulder in his jail cell for one minute. In between, she seems completely unaffected by it. It comes up again in IWTB, which I really liked, but I always felt like they owed Scully a real *moment*. A real moment to live in that pain and acknowledge how that changed her life and how really fucking difficult it was. As heartbreaking as that moment is and as much as I tend to simply ignore the William storyline, I think it was important.

3.

This is not a moment per se, but you know I have to mention the sushi episode. "Rm9sbG93ZXJz." There, I even looked up the proper title. It's a lot of moments in that episode that make up the whole of it. I love the creepiness of it that's created through the complete absence of other people. It's isolation dialed up to maximum. That's obviously a social commentary, but to me it's also an X Files commentary, if you will. The whole show, it's been them against the world. Very little backup. Just the two crazies from the basement. And here, they're not just isolated from the rest of the world, but for all intents and purposes, the world seems actually *empty*. Even though this episode stands somehow outside of canon to an extent, to me it's a ~vibes~ summary of the entire og myth arc. They have no one. They can't trust anyone. Everything is against them and yet they keep fighting against an enemy that seems omnipresent and undefeatable. I will talk about this episode for days if I don't stop now, so I'll leave it at that.

oh man this was fun. thank you for the question!

[literatureloverx]

It’s genuinely hard to choose but I think what really hooked me to your content, and what felt the most original and unique, where the “ideal types” posts. I love them and I can’t wait for the next ones you have planned (I believe Nikolai’s and idk if any others?). You also seem so down to earth from your posts and intelligent and analytical (I love and share your take on Mori, and if you write about him I’ll go over the moon). Also omg I just saw your posts with pics of how you imagine Fyodor and his darling’s house— another thing that proves my point of you thinking of everything, doing things that feel unique and everything I said!! Love you and your content <3

— 🍇

PS: Oh I also saw that post about what’d happen if someone hurt Fyodor’s girl, but then I wondered… since his ideal type focused a lot on her “purity”, and him being kinda traditional… would he feel disappointed or treat her differently/lose interest if she was r*ped?

Hello, dear 🍇-anon!♥️

Thank you so much for your heartfelt words (I’m not sure how to handle so much flattery, but thank you)! ♥️

I plan to write Nikolai’s and possibly Akutagawa’s ideal type posts in the near future. I love you too! ♥️

MDNI. I never mentioned the word 'r*pe' and it’s not descriptive, but it’s definitely suggestive. Read with caution.

Regarding your request: I don’t think so, because it’s not her fault. She is vulnerable and, well, a woman. I imagine he sees his darling as someone who needs protection, as she’s not fully capable of protecting herself.

If something like that were to happen to her, he wouldn’t blame her—it would be the fault of those who were supposed to protect her in his absence.

To him, she would still be ‘pure’—pure, but damaged. I can definitely see him struggling emotionally, even becoming angry because he doesn’t fully understand why he feels so affected.

After all, many women endure such horrible things, often worse—he feels he shouldn’t be this wounded by it. Yet, he wouldn’t be able to help himself, and he wouldn’t be great at consoling her either.

His strength in other manipulation tactics (like making her forget the event) comes from his usual lack of deep emotional investment. But in this case, he’d be wounded too, and it would be a difficult time for both of them. Still, he’d eventually find a way to help them both move past it, sooner or later.

Wow, writing about this made me very emotional. If there are people reading this who have gone through something like this, please feel hugged and loved, because you are somebody, and it is not your fault. We live in a corrupt world, but together, we can work toward the goal of making it a more livable place for both women and children. ♥️

[jeannereames]

Whenever we think of royal families our minds tend to go to the concept of the European noble House. The House of Habsburg, the House of Windsor, the House of Stuart etc. I understand that we should look at the Ancient Greek, Macedonian & Hellenistic royal families in a different way becuase of the different family & power dynamics - could you please help us understand the difference?

Ancient Court Societies vs. Modern

Probably the biggest difference is greater organization of hierarchy. Modern royal houses have had a lot of time to evolve.

Norbert Elias’s The Court Society has become the foundational study on court systems, although it’s western-focused by intent. Nonetheless, it’s a useful introduction to how courts function with inner courts, outer courts, etc.

The biggest things to keep in mind are:

The degree of formality between court members. How “deep” and structured is the hierarchy? (Smaller courts typically have far less formality than larger ones.)

How formalized are matters of succession and marriage ties? Particularly the presence (or absence) of royal polygamy can affect that.

Court societies inevitably progress from less formal and hierarchical to more of both. We can sometimes talk about earlier court societies as chieftain-level societies versus more organized royal, or even imperial societies.

Part of the struggle first Philip, then Alexander faced was transforming a chieftain-level court system into something that would work on a (much, for Alexander) larger scale. Unsurprisingly, there was push-back against, essentially, “bureaucracy.” Nobody likes it, but the larger an area controlled, the more necessary it becomes.

Traditional Macedonian courts were fairly informal, the king being primo inter pares (first among equals). No titles were used when addressing him—he was called by his name—and the only thing expected of the speaker was to take off his hat. “King” (basileus) was used when speaking OF him. We don’t see “King ___” employed in Macedonia (at least in inscriptions) until Kassandros, who needed it to buck up his claim.

None of that means the average person could wander into the palace and start chatting up the king. He was protected by his Bodyguards (Somatophylakes), who also apparently managed access to him. Yet he was expected to sit in judgement as an appellate court, where anybody could appeal a case before him. How often this occurred no doubt depended. Philip was gone a lot, and Alexander was permanently out of Macedonia two years into his reign. Presumably his regent fulfilled the role in his absence. (As I depicted near the beginning of book 2, Rise, when Alexandros is hearing cases.) Anyway, that’s one place the “average person” could get the ear of the king. Also, it seems that he was more approachable by soldiers in battle circumstances. We’re told Alexander got right in with his men to do work during sieges. It was to encourage them, but he was standing next to them so they could see and talk to him, if they wanted to. He seems to have known many of his veterans by name.

Another factor in Macedonia was lack of formal hierarchy among nobility. They had a nobility—the Hetairoi (King’s Companions)—but theoretically all Hetairoi were equal in status. In practice, they absolutely weren’t. The king also had an inner circle referred to as “Friends” (Philoi), who acted as chief advisors. The problem with both terms is their use as common nouns as well as special titles. When is a friend a Friend?

Also, at least some of this was hereditary. Yes, making (or removing) Hetairoi was in the power of the king. But it was much easier to do the former than the latter, and even strong kings didn’t do the former early in their careers, never mind the latter. For many, becoming Hetairos was a rubber-stamp. They were Hetairoi because their fathers had been. We’re also not sure if the title was extended only to the eldest male in a household, or more than one could hold it at once, but for most, it was a birthright.

So, when Alexander took the throne, he was stuck with his father’s Somatophylakes (Bodyguard) and inner circle of advisors. He absolutely could not toss them out on their ear to install his own men. He had to proceed sloooowly. Which is why we don’t see Hephaistion as a Somatophylax even by the Philotas Affair, five years into ATG’s reign. He was clearly an advisor (Philos), but didn’t become Bodyguard until sometime later. Same thing with Ptolemy, who apparently got Demetrios’s slot—the Bodyguard (almost surely one of Philip’s) behind the actual conspiracy of Dimnos, not the made up one of Philotas. When he was executed, Alexander promoted Ptolemy to his slot. Note that Ptolemy was made Somatophylax before Hephaistion. Politics, family status, and probably age trumped personal affection.

If Hetairoi couldn’t be kings themselves (unless they were also Argeads), they were king makers, and kings had to take their influence into account. Especially new kings.

As a chieftain level society, Macedonia operated on “rule by clan” with the king being the senior male Argead. His brothers, sons, nephews, and male cousins might all have important roles, as did the women, although theirs were primarily religious and the running of the royal household. Yet royal women could do limited politicking in the way of donations (eurgetisms) to create goodwill, promote the family, or make alliances—as well as (of course) the alliance created by their marriage itself. Most of these roles were informal and ad hoc, rather than titular, if also expected of them. For instance, the king’s wives were just that: king’s wives. The title queen (basileia) wasn’t used until the Hellenistic courts of the Diadochi.

Ancient near eastern courts were more stratified, with more distinct roles. In fact, it seems that Macedon, from Alexander I onward, borrowed offices from the Achaemenid Persian court, including the Bodyguard and the Royal Pages (King’s Boys). So as early as the late Archaic Age, Macedonia looked east for how to formalize a court. Certainly Philip did it well before Alexander. The notion that Alexander’s Persianizing was somehow new is bull malarky.

Anyway, in the ANE, kings tended to fit one of two traditions: shepherd king or heroic king. The Sumerian kings and Hammurabi (Old Babylon) were both examples of the shepherd-king model. Heroic kings began with the Akkadian, Sargon the Great, then the neo-Assyrian kings, especially the Sargonids. Cyrus cast himself as a heroic king, but we see a shift back to shepherd kings with Darius the Great. Another aspect of ANE kingship were three chief expectations: win wars, build big shit, and administer justice.

Due to a much longer tradition of kingship extending from the Early Bronze Age, as you may imagine, these court systems developed much more in the way of formalized structures and offices. If these changed from king to king, at least by Bronze-Age Babylon (Hammurabi), then Neo-Assyria, access to the king was severely curtailed. At least the Persian kings got out and moved around on a sort of “King’s Progress,” but that was to check up on satraps. The average citizen saw them only at a distance. In contrast the Sargonids of neo-Assyria emerged from their palace complexes almost exclusively when going to war.

The Medes and Persians, like the Hittites before them, fit themselves into ANE traditions after they arrived in the area. Less is known about pre-ANE Hittites, but if they kept some unique religious traditions, when it came to How to Run an Empire, they used Akkadian and Egyptian precursors. Similarly, the Medes and Persians who came from the steppes, also adopted ANE patterns while retaining some traditions—again particularly religious (Zoroastrianism). We know a wee bit more about them prior; they (like Macedon) seem to have had chieftain-level monarchy with rule by clan, plus tribal princes, before conquering the whole area.

I hope that helps in understanding ancient eastern Mediterranean and near eastern notions of a court. We know less about the Odrysian Thracian and Illyrian kings to Macedonia’s north, but I suspect they were similar to early Macedon. Just tooling around Thrace, it was very clear to me that we’re looking at a shared regional culture between that area and Macedonia. Similar vibes attended my visit to Aiani (ancient Elimeia) and Dodonna (Epiros). I didn’t get up into Illyria, but what I do know of the archaeology suggests the same. ALL these cultures, despite the ethnic and linguistic differences, influenced each other. Yes, ancient Macedonia was at least “Greek-ish,” but we can’t and shouldn’t dismiss the impact on them from their northern neighbors.

Last, let’s consider the role of royal polygamy. Well back into the Bronze Age, ANE kings might marry several wives and also kept concubines for political purposes. That’s why we call it royal polygamy, not just polygamy. Royal polygamy might exist in a society that otherwise limits the number of wives anyone not the king can have.

Macedonian kings also practiced it, and Thracian and Illyrian, but on a more limited scale. Greeks and Romans, then Christians, depicted any polygamy as a “barbaric Oriental” (= morally corrupt) practice that supported their general view of Asia as soft and indulgent. (Sex itself wasn’t a vice, but too much sex was: uncontrolled desire.)

In later Europe, kings might have mistresses, but it wasn’t “official,” and they certainly didn’t have multiple wives. Christianity frowned on that. Even before, Roman emperors didn’t employ royal polygamy, although they did use serial monogamy—a long-standing practice back into the Roman Republic. Yet that required divorce. When the Christian church made marriage both a sacrament and a vow (not a contract, as it had been pretty much everywhere else), they made divorce impossible without either a wife’s death or religious shell games like annulment. Until Henry VIII, European kings were largely stuck with just one marriage.

Ancient courts didn’t have that problem. And from a political point of view, monogamy is a problem. It reduces the number of political ties available. Having royal polygamy offers more fluidity in possible heirs, and increases, sometimes exponentially, avenues for political alliance.

That said, the downside can be messy inheritance. Two of the more infamous inheritance disputes (other than Alexander’s) involved Esarhaddon, youngest son of Sennacherib, and Cyrus the Younger vs. Artaxerxes II. The latter dispute resulted in civil war (thank you, Xenophon, for telling us about it). As for Esarhaddon, he was so in danger from his older brothers, his mother kept him out of the capital until claimants were dead. There are others, but these two leapt to mind. There are also Egyptian examples, but I’m far less knowledgeable about those dynasties. And, as we see later in Europe, disputed successions can occur without polygamy!

Anyway, when it comes to selection of the heir, two things that matter in polygamous courts: status of the mother, and (for the ANE) whether she was queen. Not all wives were also queens. In the case of Esarhaddon, his mother Naqiʾa was of lower status and not a queen, so when his father named him heir, his older brothers (and their court allies) blew a gasket. Both Assyrians and later Achaemenid Persian kings could marry as many women as they wanted, plus take concubines…but the heir was expected to be from his Chief Wife, or Queen. Of “pure” blood. Cyrus the Younger’s argument against his older brother rested on a similar status technicality: he’d been born after his father became king, while Artaxerxes II was born before. We’d say Cyrus was “born to the purple.” But it was just an excuse; he was the ambitious one, and their mother favored him. If Macedonia didn’t have queens, the status of the mother mattered to being selected as heir there as well.

So these are some of the chief differences between ancient Mediterranean and near eastern courts, compared to later European.

[fueledbysano]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 Itoshi Rin

sometimes, it's better to end a relationship that's not working than to hold on to something that's already over.

♱ rin itoshi x f!reader

♱ content/warnings: angst no comfort

♱ wc: 1.2k

♱ a/n: inspired by mother's new song "You're Losing Me" and yes I'm posting hard angst after a couple of weeks of not writing 😚

Rin’s apartment was cozy and inviting, with soft lighting and cool colors that created a relaxed and intimate atmosphere. The furniture was simple and stylish, with a couch and armchairs arranged around a coffee table, and a bookshelf filled with a mix of fiction and nonfiction books. Rin's kitchen was well-equipped and functional, with all the tools and appliances he needed to mix up a hot beverage.

As [ Y / N ] walked into the living room, she felt her heart racing with anticipation. She knew that this was going to be a special night, a rare night where Rin can take his mind and soul off of soccer.

His life was all about training, playing tournaments, and traveling. He loved the fast-paced lifestyle and the adrenaline rush of being in the field. Despite the adulation of the media and fans, winning match after match, and being praised by his teammates, Rin felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction at the end of each day.

Rin's professional life was taking him further and further away from [ Y / N ], and the distance was starting to take a toll on their relationship. Despite his best efforts, Rin found himself growing distant from [ Y / N ], and he started to question whether their relationship could survive the strains of his profession.

[ Y / N ] was also understanding of Rin's personality, and she never tried to change him. She knew that Rin's career was important to him, and she was willing to get accustomed to his life. Rin tried to show [ Y / N ] that he loved her in his own way, but he always felt like he was falling short.

[ Y / N ] was a strong and independent woman, but she couldn't help feeling hurt by Rin's absence. Even though she tried to understand his job as a soccer pro and support him in any way she could, the distance was taking its toll. She missed the intimacy and closeness that came with being in a relationship, and she started to wonder if Rin was really worth the pain.

[ Y / N ] also knew that Rin was struggling with his own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. He seemed to be carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders, and [ Y / N ] didn't know how to alleviate the burden. She cared for Rin deeply and wanted to help him in any way she could, but she also knew that she had to take care of herself.

Rin's egoistic nature was slipping away, and he couldn't have hated it more. He was losing his passion and drive, and he found himself growing more and more distant from the game he once loved. The once confident and successful pro was now struggling to focus and perform, and he hated the fact that he was letting his personal life get in the way.

As he trained, Rin felt like he was losing himself. He knew that he was capable of so much more, but he couldn't seem to break free from his own thoughts and emotions. The pressure to perform was overwhelming, and he feared that he would never be able to get back to the level he had once been at.

Rin's teammates noticed the change in him, and they started to question whether he was still the same player that they once knew. It was a difficult and humiliating realization for Rin, who had always taken pride in his abilities and his ability to perform under pressure.

His coaches noticing the change in him and starting to question whether he was still committed to the game was the last straw. Rin knew that he had to do something. He couldn't continue on like this, letting his guilt and regret affect his game.

As the night wore on, Rin grew quieter and more withdrawn. The mood in the apartment started to shift, and [ Y / N ] could feel the tension building. It was clear that something was on Rin's mind, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before he would finally speak what exactly was on his mind.

[ Y / N ] felt her heart sink. She knew that this wasn't going to be a romantic night after all, but something much more difficult and painful. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever was coming next.

“[ Y / N ]...”

“Rin.”

“When was the last time we stayed like this?” He asks, keeping direct eye contact with her.

“I can’t remember.” She spoke painfully.

“Exactly. He agreed.

“Maybe we shouldn't have pushed through this whole “being in a relationship” thing.” He finally blurt, having felt the sense that she was somehow on the same page as him.

[ Y / N ] feels a sharp pain in her chest at Rin's words, even if she had seen this moment coming from a mile away. She takes a deep breath before answering him.

"You're right, Rin. Maybe we tried too hard to make this work," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “So… this is where we end.”

Rin makes a heavy sigh and crosses his arms, already uncomfortable with the level of vulnerability he had shown for her. “Understandable. I wish you the best wherever you go.” [ Y / N ] never expected Rin to spare her a hint of vulnerability but the way he said this as if she was an employee resigning was just disappointing.

With that final comment, Rin turns his back to her and pretends to walk towards the door. She has seen this behavior of him before and know that he expects her to beg him to stay or at the very least to convince him. Rin’s ego is fragile and he doesn’t take well to being shut down, even the slightest hint of her not caring about him can be interpreted as a huge insult to him.

“I really hope you become the best striker just like you’ve always wanted.” You wished.

Rin nods slowly and lets a thin smile appear on his face, for the very first time tonight. [ Y / N ] means well, but to Rin, that small phrase she just said seems to be an insult to him and his ego, but instead of reacting with anger, Rin turns once again and looks at her for a moment with a blank expression and then nodding his head, “Yes.”

He turns away once again, she can tell by his back turned to her that he definitely prefers if she were getting on her knees and crying for him to stay. In his mind, her calm and composed reaction is a direct attack to his ego, after all, how dare she not beg him to stay, how dare she not put up a fight for him?

But yet again, they've gone past the point of no return and have lost each other.

Sometimes the people we love the most can push us to the brink of giving up, but it's important to remember that our love for them doesn't define us. We can choose to let go and move forward, because we deserve to be happy, even if it means saying goodbye.

And the hardest choices would serve as a reminder that sometimes, the most important wins are the ones that we earn by taking care of ourselves.

[nerdgatehobbit]

To celebrate Star Trek DS9’s 32nd anniversary, I read the “Emissary” novelization. Overall, I really liked it.

Early on, there’s this quote: “Sisko realized he was bigoted against bigots, but it was one bias he did not strive to transcend.” Page 23 in my edition) That is certainly a good way of framing the paradox of tolerance.

About a hundred pages later, there’s a section in Jake’s POV about how Benjamin has been teaching Jake on respecting different cultural beliefs. The handling of Jake and Nog’s interactions is a bit rough and I’m not quite sure yet how I feel about it. Poor Rom hasn’t been named yet at this point- he appears but only is referred to as Nog’s father. Going back to Jake, I do appreciate how the novelization is more open about how Jake has also been grieving and has been affected by his father being ‘stuck’ in the moment of his mother’s death. The idea that Jake struggled to make long-lasting friendships at the shipyards makes sense and adds more nuance to why he latched onto Nog.

The handling of Benjamin & Jadzia’s friendship was a bit off-kilter, but I get the sense they were leaning into that awkwardness of the adjustment to the new host. Captain Picard gets a bit more focus, especially in his discomfort upon realizing exactly why Sisko holds a grudge. It initially sat uncomfortably with me that at one point he views Sisko as “young”. But Memory Alpha says that the characters were born nearly three decades apart (2305 for Picard; 2332 for Sisko) so fair enough.

Keiko and Molly get to be reoccurring characters here, to the point that I wonder if this novelization was based off an earlier script that included them before realizing they needed to streamline the pilot to highlight the new characters. This book also helpfully has Miles O’Brien reflect on his history with Cardassians, which gave me enough information to be able to look up he’s thinking about events that were featured in the TNG episode “The Wounded”. I say ‘featured’ because I am pretty sure some were flashbacks and others were then-current.

Sometimes the narrative was a bit heavy-handed in spelling out the subtext of characters’ motivations but to be fair there are a lot of characters & motives taking place. I think the book went too easy on Bashir’s “frontier medicine” remark, easier than I feel the actual episode did. Though maybe that’s my 2020s perspective talking.

The spots where it was clearest this book was rooted in the pilot are when it touches on Odo and Bashir’s backstories. Odo’s past with the scientists hadn’t been established yet, nor Bashir’s augmentation. There is also no mention of Garak but maybe he’s lying low and/or repairing his shop at this point in-universe? I’m unsure if Nog’s scorn about living with a mother when Jake asks is from to the writers not yet figuring out the form of sexism in Ferengi society versus Nog being on the defensive about his mother’s absence. It can be read as the second in hindsight.

I think that it wouldn’t take much to edit Bashir’s musings without giving away the big spoiler. Just tweak it to something along the lines of “for almost as long as he could remember he’d been cleverer than his peers”, “he became more aware of his outsider status as a teen”, and then outright add in somewhere, even in a different POV section of his, him wondering if there were any telepathic or empathic species on the station. To those starting the show, the first 2 would seem like more of his ego and last another nod to his wide-eyed fascination on his first posting. But those in the know would definitely know the significance of the 1st two, and the last is admittedly a handwave on why Bashir wouldn’t even be thinking too loudly about his augmented status.

Kira’s prickliness is well captured, with her still being respected by the others. Okay, O’Brien is a bit uneasy, but to be fair, she’s his superior so having one with an obviously short fuse is admittedly not a great way to start a new posting, especially as he hadn’t quite realized of her being targeted in her wrath rather than indiscriminate.

Jadzia is remarkably chill here and hasn’t yet gained the complexity she got in later seasons. Which is understandable but also still frustrating. Jennifer remains more someone being grieved than a character in her own right, but that still is a storytelling issue now, let alone three decades ago.

I do greatly appreciate how the book does spotlight Benjamin Sisko’s complexity and the changes he undergoes in the pilot. After all, he is the main character. It is touched on that his dad was a gourmet chef, so that aspect must have been thought up very early in the process. The book does a good job conveying the layers of Brooks’ acting.

Quark is Quark, with his hidden depths not yet seen. As previously mentioned, they don’t seem to have a firm grasp on Odo, though some of that could be him not doing much self-reflection. I’m now wondering if Odo and Quark did simply dislike each other during the Cardassian occupation and at the start of the show, with the tangled mess of multiple emotions coming later, or if it’s something established by later episodes that they’ve always had a complicated dynamic that supersedes the pilot novelization in terms of ranking what’s canon.

They don’t fully understand Gul Dukat’s misunderstanding of himself as the hero, but they did describe his behavior at one point as “imperious” as an example of they knew how he behaved very well, just needed to get a better grasp on the why. Fair enough for the pilot, though.

I’m probably forgetting to discuss at least one something, but this is all I can think of right now. It was an interesting read, particularly in putting a slightly different take on the events of “Emissary”. Has anyone else read it?

[sapientiiae]

@guideoftime continued from x

This was an unexpected turn of events. 

Or perhaps it shouldn’t have been unexpected. Living their lives the first time around had been challenging — the destinies they were meant to prepare for (hers never spoken of as openly as Sheik’s), having to stay one step ahead of Ganondorf, the training (hers delayed and delved deeper into once she was already in hiding), and the ultimate fight against the Gerudo King. 

The second time around had been equally as challenging, though for many different reasons. They’d already fulfilled their destinies, and now they were forced to relive their lives as if none of it had happened. Their memories had remained intact — though she hadn’t been able to anticipate Sheik’s would — and they were forced to go through the motions of an average daily life, always remembering how close Hyrule was to ruin while everyone else went about their lives completely oblivious.

The princess firmly believed she had it easier between the two of them. In that first life, she’d lost almost everything that had ever been remotely familiar to her — her mother, her father, her tutors, and her home. Loss had become a normal, albeit morbid, part of her life. Once they were launched back into their past to do it over again, she’d lost Impa, which was tragic and a hard pill to swallow, but she’d regained the majority of what was once lost. And, technically speaking, Impa wasn’t gone, she just wasn’t around to fulfill the same duties she’d once sworn to. 

Sheik, on the other hand, had lost two of the three constants in his life. The hero had been important to them both, but Sheik had been much more involved with him (he was the hero’s guide, after all) than she herself had. Impa had raised them both, but at least she’d still had a parent to look after her after the Sheikah tribe leader was gone; technically, Sheik had too, but that was a detail unbeknownst to him that she still hadn’t been allowed to reveal.

She also had a destiny still, a duty to one day rule Hyrule and lead them to unification. Sheik’s destiny, however, wasn’t as clearly outlined. He was to….protect her. Remain loyal to the Royal Family and continue to serve as her shadow. 

All this to say the second round was hard, but they’d learned to lean on each other and find comfort in one another along the way. Even then, their relationship almost seemed to come with unspoken rules; there were certain details about their new lives that they just didn’t talk about. 

Getting Sheik to open up about his emotions had always been difficult, even if they had made tremendous strides in the years that had passed. She’d known losing Impa had come with challenges (there were small clues that alluded to this), which was why she’d always attempted to find ways to support him, though she’d wanted to do so without overstepping any boundaries. 

When she’d learned of Sheik’s offerings at the Shadow Temple, she’d struggled to decide if this was another aspect of Sheikah tradition that was unfamiliar to her or perhaps a sign that Impa’s absence was affecting him more than she’d realized. Regardless, she’d offered to join him in an attempt to show her support, as she’d always done, but she hadn’t anticipated this particular question when she’d awoken that morning. 

But maybe it was time they talked about it. Maybe they needed to be a bit more open with one another instead of selectively choosing which topics they acknowledged. 

“'Whenever I want' may be an exaggeration. There are times when the other Sages are more difficult to reach. If they fall deeper into their prayers, communicating with one another becomes less clear — similar to when a person gets so wrapped up in a task they do not realize someone has entered a room or is speaking to them,” she explained, wondering if she was making any sense. “Also, while communication between Sages is encouraged for obvious reasons, the Sages still have free will.” Perhaps referring to it as free will was a poor choice of words, but she assumed he would understand what she meant. “They can choose to not respond when called upon. It…is most common between Ruto and Nabooru.” Ruto did have a large personality that was a bit of an acquired taste for some.

The Hylian woman plucked a bit anxiously at the oversized sleep shirt that seemed to swallow her up. She’d known when she’d crawled out of bed after him that she was anything but the well-polished portrait that was expected of someone from the Royal Family. She’d had no intention of walking out of the Kakariko house in such a state, though now she was uncertain if she should be walking out at all. 

“And this is me saying that I do not have to come.” She was finally putting her thoughts into words, the stare she leveled at him resolute despite how disheveled the rest of her might have looked. “I came here with you because I want to support you, Sheik. Always. But if this is more private — if visiting the Shadow Temple and leaving these offerings is something you wish to do alone — then tell me as much.”