#and so the pattern looks fine when it’s alternated

[sodacowboy]

:/

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[httpisaoki]

i. lazy morning + kiss countdown

sypnosis: It was the week before your girlfriend's birthday but while her schedule was jam-packed and stressful, unbeknownst to her--- you prepared the best surprise you've ever planned for her.

alternative: phase one of y/n's plan to annoy her birthday girl!!

warnings: fluff, established relationship, jimin is sleepy, jimin is wife material (as always), she's so gf material :((, kisses, pure flufffff, cooking for the birthday girl!!

-> part one of the birthday series!! if watched the jimin birthday cooking video you'll get the soup reference lmao. wc is 1.8k!!

series masterlist. next.

ever before you and jimin started dating, you always managed to surprise her with weird things on holidays, most especially on her birthday.

on her 20th birthday, you surprised her with 20 cakes for her, all with her favorite dinosaur on them. on her 22nd birthday, you surprised her to a trip to jeju, another dinosaur-themed birthday was checked on that day.

and finally, on her last birthday, you surprised her backstage during her concert holding multiple banners with her name plastered on everyone in different patterns and holding up the 5 layered cake in your hands– least to say, you absolutely loved celebrating her birthday with her. i mean who wouldn't want to just spoil a girlfriend like her, right?

but now, it was 10 days before jimin's birthday and you showed her no sign of celebrating at all this year, but that was your plan. 

you had gave her subtle hints, gifting her the things she thought were pretty, just spoiling her with anything she asked for or wanted, but you planned a set of surprises for that day, and it was by far the best surprise you planned.

the night before her birthday, phase one had began. You had set up your alarm for 12:00, the second it was april 11th, you would wake her up and try to annoy her for at least 10 minutes. It was mean, yes, but it would be worth it to annoy her on her day just to see the look of surprise on her face once jimin realized your plans.

Jimin had texted you, saying that she would be late. You chuckled at the sight of the text, you guessed right. And your plan was slowly falling into place. So you did the next step, sleep and wake up to your alarm right after the clock hit 12.

—

your alarm woke you up, shifting your body to face your girlfriend, staring at her facial features like she was a piece of art (i mean she is). you grow fond of how peaceful she looks while she slept, always so gorgeous even when sleeping.

you grinned as it was already time for your plan. You sit up, pecking her lips, stirring her awake. 

she groans, "baby?" you hummed, "23 left." you teased, wanting to see a reaction from her. she furrowed her eyebrows, her eyes slowly opening as she realizes. horror in her face as she did.

you chuckled, pecking her cheek, whispering "22 more. you better wake up, yu jimin."

she grumbled, "please," she said in a soft tone, hiding her face away again, trying to go back to sleep. she rolled over away from you, but you pulled her back. 

she tried to cover her face with the blanket to hide away from you, but you kept pulling it away, grinning and chuckling while doing so.

you placed one more peck on her cheek, telling her in a teasing tone, "21 more.."

you pat her head, "yah, happy birthday, jagi.." you smiled at her. 

she scoffed at you, a smirk growing on her face, "shut up," she said, now rolling over to face you again. before she rolled back over, she grabbed your arm, pulling you to her, and grabbing you close. 

but she didn't let go, still holding you tightly in her grasp. it was so warm and cozy, you didn't dare to move at all.

"you better go back to sleep.." she muttered, before she slowly drifted off to sleep again, still clinging onto your arm tightly.

You laughed, "alright fine. it's midnight anyway. sleep well, baby" you cooed, watching her slowly fall asleep as you waited for the night to pass by. 

as the hours passed, you couldn't help but feel a bit impatient. not only was that because you wanted to see the look on her face once you surprised her, but also the fact that you've been planning this for so long and didn't want to risk her finding out accidentally.

you felt her grip on your arm slowly started to loosen, her hand finally released it. her breathing seemed a bit more steady as she was finally into deep sleep.

You were amused that it was so easy to plan your surprise, ‘how could she not realize?’ You chuckled, thinking to yourself before falling asleep.

—

hours later, the sun slowly shone into the room, making your girlfriend stir as she slowly woke up. a yawn escaped her lips as she slowly opened her eyes and stretched, and she glanced towards the clock, and she glanced at her phone on the nightstand next to you.

"morning..." she mumbled, stretching and rubbing her eyes.

"mhm... good morning," you replied softly back to her, wrapping your arm around her to pull her to you as you cuddled her close. she mumbled, a yawn escaping her lips once more followed by a tired groan and a small huff.

she then nuzzled into you, making herself comfortable as she cuddled into your grasp. it was so warm, soft, and cozy, that you didn't want to let go, just wanting to continue holding her in your arms.

"happy birthday, baby," you whispered, pulling her even closer as your arms wrap around her.

"m-mmm..." she mumbled sleepily, slowly shifting her head to face you, her expression being tired still. she groans, "you better let me sleep..." she muttered, turning around to face away from you, before slowly shifting in your arms as she tried to get comfy again. she slowly cuddled into your side as she nuzzled her head up to your neck, nuzzling you gently for a moment.

"alright," you pat her head again, slowly standing up, "rest more, alright? don't go out until you've risen from a coma," you joked, pecking her lips before turning to leave the room.

 "20 more!" you yell out, closing the door before she could protest.

she grumbled, sighing as she heard the door shut, now alone with her thoughts and her phone beside her. 

she yawned again, groaning quietly as she slowly sat up on the bed. she shifted herself around, making herself comfortable and slowly started to scroll through her phone, not doing much, just trying to occupy herself or waste the time.

"I wonder what she's doing," she mumbles, and eventually the smell of her favorite dishes catches her attention.

the scent of food wafts over her nose, catching her attention easily. she slowly sits up, a small smile growing on her lips as her stomach growls, and her eyes glaze over. 

she stands up from the bed, adjusting her position as she walks over to find the source. she walked out of the room, the smell getting brighter as she got closer.

she soon found herself in the kitchen, the dishes she could smell were exactly what she thought they were, her favorites.

her eyes beamed with delight as she saw your back, her stomach rumbling at the thought of the smell alone.

she took her steps quietly, sneaking over to the kitchen as she watched you from behind. the smell was so strong it made her mouth water.

she couldn't help herself, standing on her toes, watching you cook silently from behind. suddenly, her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, and she nuzzled into your back, "mmm..." 

she was silent for a moment, before she whispered, "what are you cooking?"

You hummed, "sea mustard soup." you replied, grabbing a spoon, scooping up some soup, and gesturing it for her to taste. "here." you carefully hold up the spoon close to her face.

she grabbed the spoon, taking the spoonful of soup from your fingers. she looked at the soup, smelling the familiar scent, before finally taking a bite. her eyes glaze over, her mouth watering as she did. 

she took a moment before replying, "mmm... it's so... good..." a smile grew on her face as she ate a few more spoonfuls, eating some of the vegetables before looking up at you.

"eat now. the soup's almost done. I won't be able to be with you while on your schedule but enjoy your day, alright birthday girl?" you teased, pointing towards the dishes already set on the table.

a smile grew on her face, now taking some of the dishes and starting to eat. there were fried veggies, rice, soup, and some meat, and everything looked and tasted delicious. 

she hummed quietly as she ate silently, before stopping to look at you, her lips curling upwards in a playful pout. 

"why can't you join me?" she asked, her tone being a mixture of a playful whine and a teasing tone at you as well.

she then continued eating, but her eyes lingered on you, watching you as you finished up the last bit of preparations. she then glanced towards the table and her phone beside it, noticing her schedule. 

she hummed, eating some vegetables before looking back at you. "could you sit with me?" she begged, tilting her head before she looked down at the ground, a blush growing on her cheeks due to her begging.

you walked over to the table, her favorite birthday tradition in your hands. her face brightened as she noticed the sea mustard soup was ready.

"I need to go to work after, baby," you give her an apologetic smile, knowing she didn't like it when you didn't eat together.

she sighed, a small pout growing on her cheeks, "alright... but promise me we'll eat tonight together too?" she asked, her eyes begging you for a little bit of compassion. 

her lips then turned into a smirk, "pleaseee?" she begged quietly, looking at you with her cute, big, brown eyes, the same eyes she used to convince you to do stuff for her.

you smiled, "well, of course, I already told manager unnie after your schedule that we'd go out after." you take a seat across from her, chuckling at her pout.

she sighed in relief, a small smile growing on her lips as she sat back down before leaning back in her chair. she nodded, "alright... i'll be looking forward to that, jagi," she hummed, picking at her food again before she continued eating silently, now wanting to enjoy the rest of the peaceful time she had before she prepared herself for the day ahead.

she slowly ate the rest of her meal, now finishing up her plate before her phone was once again calling out her attention. her eyes glazed over, seeing that it was 10:30am on the schedule.

she sighed, before slowly standing up from her chair, glancing at you as she did. "gotta prepare for my schedule today, can't be late," she muttered quietly, before leaning over the table, giving you a quick peck and a tight hug.

"see you in the evening," she mumbled, her tone being softer, more affectionate, and more gentle compared to this morning's earlier interaction. she gave one last smile before she gently untangled herself from the hug, now beginning her morning routine. she walked out of the kitchen, making her way to the bathroom, but not without taking a single glance back at you one last time.

[smoothlikealikeasnake]

Strawberry Princess Chapter 10 ‘Promise?’

Pairing - OT7!BTS x Reader, Hybrid!BTS x Hybrid!Reader

Genre - Hybrid!Au , Hybrid BTS x Hybrid Reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, slow burn? , alternative reality , strangers to lovers , strangers to friends, friends to lovers

Warnings - Riding Motorcycle, anxiety, lots of kissing, inappropriate thoughts, sexual tension, Chasing (as a game?), scent high, sexual content (not smut yet), biting, a mention of blood, prey and predator instincts, lots of fluff, lmk if there’s anything more 💖

Summary - When a certain hybrid starts to appear whenever Jungkook is at the gym, an immediate pull is felt between the two and their eventual friendship soon is spread to the rest of his pack.

Previous Next Overview

“You want to go for a drive?”

Those words had Y/n shooting up out of bed, not even bothering to change out of her soft pajamas, instead just putting on her Uggs and a warm teddy bear coat, putting her messy hair into a ponytail and replying to jungkooks message with a happy ‘yes!’

He was outside within a few minutes and walked up to her apartment, she was patiently waiting for his knock and when she opened the door they just took eachother in, he was in a grey tracksuit, the hoodie unzipped to show the tight white tank top he had on with a black leather jacket sitting over the top and he almost laughed at how cute Y/n looked, in her patterned pajamas and coat.

“I brought something different for us to try this time, do you trust me?” - Jungkooks words had Y/n’s heart racing in anticipation, wondering just what he meant. She nodded timidly and grabbed her keys before taking his outstretched hand and letting him lead her down to the car park. It was late at night, around 11 and pitch black outside, she never went out at this time but she gladly would with him.

A expression of confusion fell over Y/n’s face when she couldn’t spot his Mercedes anywhere, when she looked at him he nodded towards a motorcycle sitting next to his usual parking area, she had never been on one and her nerves were rising as she looked at him hesitantly.

“It’ll be fun, I’ll keep you safe princess”

“Promise?”

“I promise” - He lead her over, picking up one helmet and placed it over her head, making sure it was secured on and being careful not to hurt her ears before lifting her onto the bike, a bit further back from where he would sit, telling her to sit tight for a moment, keeping a hand on her thigh while his other put on his own helmet, sliding a leg over the bike to his own seat, leaning forward to grab the handles.

“Hold onto my waist tight and don’t let go princess” - He waited until she did so, feeling her almost hesitantly wrap around him, under her hands she could feel his defined abs and if she wasn’t so nervous she would have been a blushing mess and would of savoured it more.

Jungkook looked back to check her legs were in the right place after feeling her holding on like he told her too before placing one foot on the floor firmly, kicking up the stand and holding the weight on one foot until it was turned on.

“Ready princess?” - He only got a small and high pitched ‘mhm’ in response before starting it up with a loud rumble, taking off and repositioning his foot as they moved.

This isnt so bad, he’s not even going too fast - but of course that thought ended once they actually got out onto the roads, he had gone slow to get out the car park but the speed immediately picked up once on the road. The grip around his waist instantly got tighter and Y/n let out a little yelp as she thought she was going to fall off for a moment, pressing her entire front to Jungkook’s broad back and squeezing her eyes shut as the cold wind hit her harshly, not having adjusted to the pick up in speed. Jungkook only laughed a little at that letting out a ‘I’ve got you, your fine’ just loud enough so she could hear over the engine.

It took a minute before Y/n finally opened her eyes, adjusting to the speed and realising it wasn’t as scary as it originally had been, when she did it was a feeling she couldn’t describe, watching the city lights go by and the wind blowing against her, the warmth of Jungkook under her hands and instead of holding on like her life depended on it, her grip and body relaxed against him, head resting on his back and watching as he skilfully leant them slightly to the side to pull them around the corners. Giggles started to leave her as she enjoyed the feeling, it felt so free, so relaxing and so new in the best way.

“You like it?” - Jungkook felt her tense body relaxing and heard her sweet giggles, happy to feel her enjoying it like he did

“I love it”

“Hold on a bit tighter then princess” - She did as he said immediately, her hands pressing onto his abs to push herself impossibly closer but not tensing up this time. Jungkook picked up the speed again, the feeling making Y/n’s stomach flip but all she could do was happily giggle and watch the lights around her.

She felt secure, like she couldn’t possibly fall off and it sparked a bit of bravery in her, tightening her legs around the bike and slowly letting go of Jungkook’s waist, putting one hand out at a time, realising she felt nearly completely safe doing it she spread her arms out and leant back a bit to sit up straighter. The wind flowed through her body like electricity and it sparked a few happy shouts and giggles, hearing Jungkook laughing too and impossibly happy to hear and feel her having so much fun. She just took in the free feeling, eventually leaning back against Jungkook and slipping her hands around him again, resting them on his firm chest and sighing happily.

It took a while before Jungkook slowed down, at a point where he could stop and where they were they could see the lights of Seoul everywhere, the road was empty and even if someone drove past they wouldn’t care because they were on the side. After slowing to a stop, Jungkook flicked the stand back on and reached back, somehow picking Y/n up like she weighed nothing and swinging her around, pulling her infront of him and shuffling back just a little, sitting her on the raised hood infront of him. He took off her helmet before taking off his own, shaking out his hair and taking in her dreamy smile.

“Can we do this more often?” - Y/n’s words were light and airy, she felt like she was ontop of the world, never knowing something she saw as so dangerous could ever be so amazing to her.

“We can do this whenever you want too princess”

Y/n couldn’t help the sudden desire and admiration that took over after having built up while they were riding, she was level with Jungkook’s face in her raised position and instantly leant in, slipping her small hands onto his face and leaning forward. He’d slipped his hands to her thighs, holding her securely where she was and leant in too, connecting their lips passionately and quite harshly considering they were out in the open.

The kiss was hot and feverish, their lips moving against eachother quickly and more passionate than ever, Y/n’s hands leaving Jungkooks face to travel up and down his built chest and dragging her claws over his covered abs with a smile against his lips. It was fast and almost hard to keep up with, Y/n’s hands moved everywhere from his abs back up to tangling in his hair and over his neck making him shiver while Jungkooks hands rubbed up and down her thighs, getting dangerously high before squeezing hard and soothing them again. They couldn’t feel the freezing wind hitting them and they didn’t care that they were out in the open, too enthralled with eachother.

Eventually they had to part, out of breath and panting as they leant their foreheads together, staring at eachother with swollen lips and stars brighter than those shining over them in the sky in their eyes. They repeated they a few times, the kisses occasionally travelling onto each others necks and leaving little nibbles before returning to their lips. It wasn’t a sweet peck, the kisses grew messy with bitten and sucked lips, tongue that left them with mixed saliva and small gasps and moans, completely in their own world.

They didn’t want it to end.

“Do you have somewhere to be in the morning?” - When Jungkook got a shake of Y/n’s head as a no he let out a breathless reply, airy and sounding almost desperate.

“Stay with me, I’ll take you home tomorrow but tonight, this doesn’t have to end” - Y/n instantly nodded, going in for another kiss, addicted to his taste and the feel of his lips on hers, she might have been sorry for the light scratches she left on his neck and down his chest, showing pink lines even through his white tank top. Her thighs were no better, there would definitely be pink hand marks maybe even light bruising from his grip but she loved it, loved every second of it. She chased his lips with a whine everytime he pulled away to breathe, never imagining herself to feel so desperate for someone.

Their kisses had to come to a stop so Jungkook could take them home, both pulling away reluctantly with swollen lips before Jungkook put on her helmet and manhandled Y/n back into her seat before putting on his own helmet and starting the bike back up. They didn’t speak throughout the drive, Y/n just relaxed against his back, hands holding his chest and eyes trained onto the lights flying by, time seemed to slow and get faster all at once, Y/n barely processing how they’d driven all the way back until they pulled into the carpark of the packs home and she sighed a tad sadly, not wanting to stop.

Their walk up was playful, hushed whispers and giggles so they didn’t wake anyone up in the late night, neither of them felt tired, bursting with energy and lightly pushing at eachother in the elevator after Jungkook teased her for being so worried at first and then loving it. Jungkook fumbled with the keys to get in before turning round and putting a finger over his lips.

“I think most of them are asleep so we have to be quiet” - Y/n nodded and put her hand over her mouth to muffle another laugh, not even knowing what was funny just being together made it all feel good. The two practically stumbled through the door, knocking a few shoes out of place and shushing at eachother before Jungkook accused her of being too clumsy and deciding the best solution was just to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder.

“Let me down Kook!” - Y/n whispered but was still giggling away and hit his back silently, lightly kicking her legs not accepting defeat until Jungkook reached up, making Y/n jolt and fall silent trying to surpress her laughs as his hand fell down on her ass, slapping it playfully, it made more noise than either of them had since they got in and Jungkook quickly rushed both of them to his room like they were a couple teenagers sneaking back in, still shushing eachother.

When they were finally in Jungkooks room, he grabbed onto Y/n’s bare waist under her shirt that had rode up and threw her down onto the bed with a laugh at her yelp when she bounced on it.

“Your hands are rough” - Maybe Y/n’s words had more than one meaning but they actually were rough, from his weight lifting and he looked at her pretending to be offended before stalking up to her, latching his hands onto her exposed waist again and tickling her into protesting laughs and squirms, definitely louder than she had intended too.

“These hands?”

“Yes! Yes- those hands!” - Jungkook suddenly pulled away and left her without any touch and despite being glad the tickling stopped Y/n craved his touch again, eyes observing him to work out some way to get his touch again but before she could Jungkook looked at her in somewhat surprise for a moment.

“I forgot to put your coat away” - He guided it off of her arms leaving her in her pajamas and telling her he’d be back soon, quickly putting his own jacket and her coat up with the other coats, laughing quietly at how comedically small it was in comparison to all of theirs before making his way back finding Y/n laying on her side and taking in his room.

“Are you comfortable like that or do you want some clothes to change into princess?” - his words caught her attention and she looked down, really debating asking to sleep in his clothes but she was already in pajamas it wasn’t really needed

“I’m okay like this thank you” - Kook nodded before gathering some pajama pants of his own and finding. A shirt, even if he never slept with one on he would in fear of making Y/n uncomfortable, excusing himself to change and wash his face.

Coming back, he was putting on his shirt on while he walked through the door and even though he thought Y/n wasn’t watching she definitely was, looking at the plaid trousers low on his hips, lower than the band of his Calvin kliens and all his muscles tensed as he put on the shirt, abs on full display and biceps flexing. It was only after shaking out his hair that he noticed the gaze on him, growing flustered at the attention as he realised she had infact been watching him. He walked over to the couch he had in his room, specifically for his gaming on his tv and Y/n watched him confused as he got comfortable and was about to pull a blanket over himself.

“Why are you there?”

“I’ll sleep here?” - Jungkook was confused at Y/n’s confusion but her eyebrows furrowed and she bit her still swollen lip for a moment before patting the bed

“It’s big enough for both of us” - Y/n was praying he wouldn’t reject her and he was more surprised than anything before happily leaping up and dropping himself on the king-size bed next to her, watching her smile again and her eyes light up, in her joy she didn’t think before diving in and draping some of her body over his and burying her face into his neck to take in his addicting scent, nuzzling her face in and not hearing his sharp inhale as her nose and lips rubbed in and down against his scent gland. Jungkooks arm fell around Y/n, draping over her lower back and tilting his head to the side to give her more space, she was happily kicking her feet at his scent and her own scent was sweetening and filling the room before apparently she wasn’t close enough, swinging one of her thighs over his waist and sitting on his abs, leaning back down and getting right back into his neck, purring and squirming happily.

Y/n’s hands were planted on his chest while Jungkooks were on her lower back dangerously close to her ass and she was consumed by his scent, not taking a single moment to think about how bold she was being. Its not like Jungkook minded, he felt like he was in heaven, scent gland growing pink and even more sensitive from Y/n’s nuzzling, his brain short-circuiting when Y/n’s tongue darted out gently, whining at the taste on her tongue and when he made no move to move away or stop her, she grew more confident, lapping over the scent gland with loud purrs and shudders over her entire body.

Jungkooks breathing was heavy and he was near panting when it got too much and he pulled one of his hands up, gripping Y/n’s chin and directing her lips to his kissing like they had never stopped earlier on the bike. Y/n gasped into his mouth and he slid his tongue in at the opportunity, the intensity of it all, his taste his scent his lips, his body, all of it was so much that Y/n grew restless, squirming in her position and unknowingly rubbing over Jungkooks crotch. His groan was low and almost feral as he kissed her harder, feeling Y/n’s hands travel down and under the bottom of his t-shirt, claws scraping over his hard abs. The warm skin under her hands had Y/n whining into the kiss, not wanting to pull back to breath even for a second, pulling at the hem of his shirt and wiggling to the point where Jungkook’s hands had slipped down to her ass and gripped hard, stilling her as she failed to notice the hand sensation under her, only pulling back after her head got dizzy, not enough air reaching her lungs as they parted with a pop and red, messy swollen lips.

Y/n sat up, eyes widening and cheeks flushing as once she did there was something hard and big pushing up into her crotch, she would have gasped if she wasn’t so flustered, the hands she had under Jungkook’s shirt stilling as she took him in, trying to clear her head for a moment. Jungkook was a mess, panting and flushed, hands still gripping onto Y/ns ass for his life and groaning at Y/n’s warm centre over his dick, his eyes were squeezed shut and he felt hot but just when he thought Y/n was finished, her sweet voice travelled to his ear, hesitantly gripping the hem of his shirt.

“Kookie? Can I take this off? I promise I won’t squirm anymore” - Somehow he knew that just wasn’t true but he was more than happy to oblige with a bashful smile, sitting up as she slid down his lap a little further and he had to hold back the groan teasing at his teeth, grabbing the back of his collar are easily pulling the top off tossing it next to him and he took in her flushed state as he layed back again. Y/n was pink and her pupils were dilated to the max, breath held in her throat as she took in her physique even if she had seen it before, never this close, never intentionally and she looked up for permission as her fingers twitched to touch him. It made Jungkook a bit bashful as he nodded and tensed just a bit at the claws that scraped over his abs, Y/n’s soft fingers soothing each line as she traced his muscles, putting a bit of pressure and shuddering at how hard he was all over.

Jungkook had been doing well to keep in his groans but he lost that battle when the saliva building up in Y/n’s mouth from the urge to bite had gotten too much, she dove down and started leaving wet kisses and nips all over his neck starting from his sensitive scent glands and he instantly moaned loud and almost desperately, hands tightening on her as she made her way down, leaving little bites and kisses all over his chest, savouring the relief she was getting even from the small nips, every nip she was leaving was accompanied by a wet kiss to soothe the mark that seemed to instantly bloom and she couldn’t get enough of the taste of his skin, muscles twitching under her tongue as she made her way down, breaking her promise to stop squirming as she eventually got down to his abs, leaving the same marks on the hard muscle but when she got closer to the band of his Calvin Kliens she had to take in the sight of his defined v line and the faint happy trail in the centre and suddenly the nipping wasn’t enough.

She desperately wanted to sink her little fangs into one of his hips, marking the v-line and as if reading her mind, Jungkook slipped a hand into her hair, pulling her head up to look at him. Y/n thought she had gone too far and felt embarrassment rising in her throat but was instantly soothed and equally as excited at Jungkook’s next words

“Gentle princess, you can bite just be gentle for me” - Jungkook kept a firm hand in her hair, guiding her down to one side of his v line again, Y/n felt the loud purrs pouring out of her and she was purrfectly obedient under his hand and at his words, opening her mouth to lick at the area she chose before sinking in her fangs, being gentle enough not to break the skin just as he requested but just a bit harsher than she had been with the smaller nips, this was going to leave a mark for atleast a week, the indent of her fangs forming instantly and the whine she let out was high pitched and needy even if she didn’t know what for, this was as satisfying as it could get in that moment. Jungkook was panting harshly, cursing at the pleasure coursing through him and squeezing his eyes shut, hand in Y/n’s hair tightening just a bit more and he let out a loud moan as she let go, licking over the mark to soothe it before looking at it very satisfied with herself.

Just as Jungkook was about to flip her over and pin her down to return the favour just as they both wanted, someone burst into the room calling for him and all three figures froze, the two on the bed looking over with wide doe eyes, looking completely innocent as if Jungkook didn’t have nibble marks across his entire chest and Y/n wasn’t sitting on his lap looking like a guilty mess.

The three looked between eachother as if the two on the bed had been caught red handed and they kind of had, Jungkook hadn’t told anyone about bringing Y/n home not that it mattered but still, they were caught deep in a scent haze and the figure at the door wanted nothing more than to join in, so he broke out of the initial shock with a sly step into the room.

“What do we have here, trying to keep Y/n all too yourself Kookie?” - Jimin slowly stalked over, as sly as ever, careful to take in their reactions and to stop if needed but it wasn’t needed, Y/n’s gaze changed from one of shock to one of longing, her hand reaching out, claws fully out to dig into Jimins black hoodie once he was in reach and yanking him towards them.

Up close, Jimin could really take in the situation, the marks that trailed down Jungkook’s muscular torso and the red mark on his v-line, the light lines from Y/n’s claws and his harsh grip on her ass, both of their blown out pupils despite the widely innocent look they were both giving him, they made no attempt to hide any of it and Jimin got comfortable sitting next to them, rolling up his sleeves subconsciously from the heat radiating off the two and Y/n watched with almost hungry eyes at the veins running up his forearms before focusing on his plump lips. Who knew someone could look so ravishing in just a hoodie

“You have fun there baby? Marking up Kookie? Making him look even more pretty” - Y/n preened at the praise, shuddering as her grip on his hoodie never loosened, loving the soft fabric under her fingers, Jungkook hadn’t spoken a word too entranced by the situation.

Jimin felt like a puppeteer, leaning into Y/n’s ear to whisper and instigate every following move.

“How about you let Kookie give you a few of his own, it’s only fair” - Y/n was instantly nodding, looking down for a split second before she was flipped over onto her back with a gasp, side pressed up against Jimins leg where he was sitting next to them, Jungkook caging her in ontop of her. Jimins hand fell into her hair, gently scratching across her scalp and at the base of her ears sending shivers through her body all over again. Jungkook looked down at her, eyes full of sincerity as he didn’t make any moves to reciprocate just yet

“Is this okay princess?” - Y/n’s heart fluttered at his voice and she instantly nodded but a husky ‘words’ was whispered into her ear and she instantly beared her neck and obliged with the command

“Yes- Yes- please-“ - Y/n was entirely breathless and whined as soon as Jungkook leant down, leaving kisses down her neck, working up and down until he licked over her scent gland and at her shudder and choked moan he used his own teeth to mark it, her scent flourishing around the two as Jungkook continued his way down around the collar of her Pajamas never pushing to be respectful but Y/n’s hands shot up, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her top to give Jungkook more access and while she felt Jungkook’s smile against her skin she could hear Jimins, teasing.

The movement gave Jungkook access to all around Y/n’s chest, up to the trim of her bra and Jungkook had to hold himself a little higher for a moment to take in the side, eyes widening even if he had felt them before, then he dove in leaving messier marks all around the area, Y/n no longer holding back any noise, whining and choking out moans as Jungkook’s mouth delved into her full breasts, every kiss and bite marking her up just like she had done to him.

Her body seemed to stop working as she layed there in bliss, if she had more strength in her hands in that moment she would have undone the rest of her buttons but she could only dig her claws into Jungkook’s shoulders and respond, squirming as Jimin praised her in her ear, letting her arch her back into Jungkook’s lips body sensitive and responsive.

“More-“ - The only word she could coherently get out was more and Jungkook obliged by moving down, to the waist band of her bottoms and lifting the hem of her top up slightly so he could leave the same marks along her lower belly, feeling her shake under him until he got to the same point she had marked on his own body, soothing a hand up and down over her body as he peppered kisses around the area until squeezing her thigh to reassure her and sinking his teeth into her hip, illiciting a moan so whiny and loud Jimin had to push a hand over Y/n’s mouth to muffle it. Jimin let go instantly after, not wanting to restrain her.

Jungkook didn’t break skin, leaving a mark that would stay the same length as his own and soothing it with his tongue when he let go but Y/n’s body was so sensitive all over that she was close to tears, slapping a hand over her own mouth and twitching at every swipe of his tongue, she could hear Jimin teasing her for how sensitive she was, swiping a finger lightly over her swollen scent gland and down just under her collarbone and watching her both arch up into the touch and have a single tear roll down her cheek that he wiped away with a gentle touch. Jimin watched her and moved a hand into Kooks hair, keeping his eyes only on Y/n as he prepared to pull him away the second Y/n wanted but that moment didn’t come and Jungkook left a final kiss over the mark before sitting up, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling her to sit up slowly, placing a kiss to her head while the two men sandwiched her in happy scents, Jimin moving to sit behind her and sliding her onto his thighs with Jungkook infront of her.

Caught up in the moment, the three hadn’t realised there was a fourth figure in the doorway, watching all too amused and summoned by Jimins failure to come back and Y/n’s moan.

“So this is why you didn’t come back Jimin” - two heads snapped towards the voice while Y/n just kept her head in Jungkook’s neck, breathing in his fresh scent.

“Can you blame me Tae?” - Jimins words were slurred and he was nearly as affected as the two he originally walked in on just from sitting by them

Taehyung walked over in equally as casual clothes as the three, pretending he wasn’t being affected by the air in the room as he shut the door behind him and walked over, leaning in and catching a clear sight of where Y/n’s claws held on to Jungkook’s back and shoulders and the marks peeking out of Y/n’s pyjamas. Jimin’s eyes were about to roll back into his head from watching and smelling everything that happened so when Tae got close enough he ran his hand up his back and placed it over his nape, squeezing in a light scruff to ground him.

Jimin slumped with a happy sigh, Taehyung took in the situation and decided to take lead for the three of them, all too deep in their head to think for themselves. Gently pulling Jungkook back to give Y/n some space elicited a sad whine from her as she scrambled to get closer again but Tae just hushed her and mentioned that she should sleep now, that it’s late. All three of them were manhandled to where Tae wanted them, Jungkook and Y/n laying in the middle of the bed with Y/n resting on Jungkook’s marked up chest and Jimin placed right next to her, leaning over her body and half spooning her.

It was a pretty sight, all of them so blissed out and the two in the middle covered in pretty little red and purple bite marks, the two in the middle barely holding onto consciousness as sleep clouded their minds and Jimin dopily admiring the two, one of his hands alternating between stroking Y/n’s hair and Jungkook’s hair, loud purrs from Y/n vibrating both men’s bodies. Taehyung gave them all soft praise and words of admiration as he put them where they’d be comfortable before taking his own spot next to Jungkook leaning on his side to watch over them, one of Y/n’s arms was resting over Jungkook’s lower waist, subconsciously protecting the bite mark she put there while her own was covered by her pyjamas and Jimins arms that left the two’s heads and draped over Y/n’s waist.

When they were all ready, Taehyung grabbed a large blanket and covered all 4 of them, putting a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead and it was like they were under his hypnosis because as soon as he uttered out ‘sleep now’ all 3 dropped their eyes shut and sighed happily, the four of them dropping into deep sleeps all coerced by Taehyungs words and the strong scents flowing around the room.

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Yoongi had cooked everyone breakfast the following morning, the eldest 4 of the pack all getting ready for their days but each growing curious as they hadn’t seen their energetic youngest 3 so Jin went to find them, finding Tae and Jimins rooms empty but finding the jackpot in Jungkook’s room. 4 perfectly blissed out and still asleep hybrids, bundled up close with a chirping Jungkook, purring Y/n, sighing Jimin and rumbling chest Taehyung. They didn’t even stir when he opened the door, he couldnt see anything from the night before from where he was standing and he was so shocked but equally happy that he called out to the other three

“Yoongi, Hobi, Joon, come here now!” - The other three rushed, not knowing what was happening but finding Jin standing in the doorway they grew a little confused until Jin stood to the side letting them see and taking a few steps closer, watching how Jungkook and Jimin tightened their hands over Y/n’s waist and Taehyung threw one over Jungkook and her too, protecting her in their sleep.

As they got closer they started to notice the details, Y/n had thrown a leg over Jungkook and squirmed in her sleep making her shirt ride up and the undone buttons at the top open a bit more showing all the marks Jungkook left and besides Jungkook’s lower stomach, they could see all the little nibble marks Y/n had left on him in return.

“I need a picture of this” - Yoongi’s voice was low but Jimin started to stir, sleepily opening his eyes and looking at them before looking to the position he found himself in, smiling and sighing contently lulling himself back to sleep. Yoongi took his photo but unfortunately his flash was on, getting a growl from Taehyung as he snapped awake, his arm around the two next to him tightening as he looked around for the danger but only saw his 4 hyungs.

“Breakfast is ready” - Namjoon spoke with raised eyebrows, questioning Tae in his tone and Tae looked to the side, remembering the night before with a dopey smile but he now had to wake up the three around him, nudging Jimin first knowing he would be easier to wake and getting a grumble in response before his messy hair shot up looking around again with sleepy eyes before sitting up. Despite all Tae and Jimins moving and jostling to sit up, Kook and Y/n didnt wake up one bit, all Jungkook did was huff and pull Y/n to lay flat ontop of his body.

“When did Y/n come over Minnie?” - Jins voice was soft from watching the 4 interact and he spoke with love pulsing from his body

“Kookie brought her home some time last night, I found them and then Tae found us” - His explanation was brief because he didn’t know much more, not about where they had been or how long they had been home before he found them

Hobi had been silent for a while, humming in response and not taking his eyes off Kook and Y/n, tail swinging behind him as he tried to catch a glimpse of the events from the night before. A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, Joon bringing him back to focus.

“We will leave and one of you wake them up so we don’t startle Y/n” - Joon smiled at the 4 and ushered everyone else out, leaving a sleepy Tae and jimin, who would much rather go back to sleep, to wake them up.

Jimin started by pulling Y/n by her hips off of Jungkook and nearly stopped completely at the whine that came from her throat as her hands reached out to hold on and when she couldn’t grab anything else she wrapped her arms around his tattooed one and held on as tight as she could, pinning her entire body to it and trapping his hand between her thighs tightly.

The two men awake just decided they’d have to wake up Jungkook first, trying first to shake him and when they didn’t work, pressing onto his very swollen and marked scent gland and his eyes instantly jumped open, sleepily looking around in confusion. He went to move his arm to wipe his hair out of his face but couldn’t move it and something, someone was attaching herself very tightly too it, as he tried to move it again he flexed it and heard a happy sigh and someone’s plush lips and saliva? On it, making him look at it in confusion and laughing quietly as he observed Y/n’s mouth slightly open and when he flexed, pressing into her lips and touching a little bit of drool. He noticed the two other men watching the interacting with smiles and messy hair.

“Breakfasts ready, hyungs came to get us” - Tae spoke with an even lower register than usual, voice rusty and low even when he grunted from stretching and pulling himself up, same with Jimin while Jungkook just watched Y/n with hearts in his eyes for a while, looking down and blushing as his hand was firmly held between Y/n’s thighs. Jimin watched him blush and responded to his unspoken question

“You pulled her ontop of you and I tried to pull her off to wake you both up but she latched herself onto your arm before she could get too far” - Jungkook made a noise of acknowledgement bringing his free arm to push the hair away from her face and to gently do the same thing that had woken him up, her eyes opening instantly. It was the best sleep she had ever had and she was not happy to wake up from it, not even looking around before she tried to hiss at anyone and everyone and hold on tighter, she heard two laughs and a growl at her reaction so her eyes shot right open.

While Jungkook and Jimin found it quite funny she was subconsciously challenging Taes authority and as a species in somewhat close relation there was the obvious hierarchy and everything in him was telling him to tell her off, to scruff her and carry her out to the kitchen by the back of her neck. He almost did it, if it wasn’t for how she looked up at him apologetically and let of a meek ‘sorry’, it would do for now.

“Got to get up now princess, breakfast” - Jungkook’s lower voice than usual made her shiver and she made move to reluctantly getting up before noticing how she was wrapped around his arm and scrambled to let go, embarrassed and suddenly flustered. He didnt notice how she wiped her hand where her face was to get rid of the little drool patch and he couldn’t hold back the laugh that followed. Before he pushed both of them up into a sitting position and reluctantly got up looking for a shirt, a hoodie, anything to cover his very bare chest and in her still slightly state Y/n just took in the expanse of his back and the sight of his pants low enough to see his Calvin Kliens, he was so dreamy she almost sighed and leant on her hand like they do in movies.

To snap herself out of it she took the hairband on her wrist off and put her hair into a messy high ponytail as she was sure it looked a state, stretching and then noticing the obvious breeze on her chest and scrambling to do up the final two buttons with a blush. Y/n looked at the hoodie in Jungkook’s hands disapprovingly, something in her head telling her it was offending ‘better without, leave it off!’ But she made no move to voice her thoughts, not that she needed too because her scowl spoke for her, being laughed at a little as someone ran a hand down her back soothingly, knowing it was because it covered a lot of the marks she had worked sooooo hard to put on him.

Tae grabbed her by her ankles and pulled her to the edge of the bed before pulling her up by her waist, eliciting a little squeal from her before a giggle. He had meant well but something in his wasn’t all that happy with her apology earlier, still believing she would challenge him again so after the other two men left infront of him, still messy and tired, he put a hand to the back of her neck and walked her forward. Y/n didn’t mind, she would have melted into his hand if she didn’t have to walk but she was still waking up and seeing as he didn’t actually do anything after she hissed at him, something was speaking to her in her head that caused her to act how she would with Yoongi.

‘Run, see if he chases you, hiss, see what he does, test him’ - And so she did, they were right about to be in the kitchen and everyone could see them when she spun on her heel and started to running away with a giggle. Instantly, she didn’t just have one big cat on her heels, she had 4 predators running after her as she ran into rooms and did full circles around the perimeter before running into the next, they were all hot on her heels but never quite there.

Three amused hybrids watched the 5 race in and out of rooms in the hallway like some sort of Tom and Jerry game until eventually Y/n got to Hoseoks room, running in and nearly tripping over her own feet and right as she thought she was getting away with it her giggles were cut off by a hand on her lower back roughly pinning her down flat to the bed infront of her, another hand grabbing one of her hands that was about to try to help herself get away, pinning it by her face, the long slim fingers of her captor easily covering it and somehow she didn’t thinks he was ready to stop playing so she let her instincts lead. Moving her head up enough to bite down on the flawless skin, little fangs piercing it just slightly and as she thought she had the leverage to get up a knee landed between her thighs and the same hand she bit grabbed onto both her hands in one of his, pinning them at the edge of the bed. She had fallen into the middle of the bed and whoever was over her pinned her right in her position.

“You should know if you run everything in our body tells us to catch you doll” - The words were a threat but they didn’t come from above her, they came from infront of her, where Namjoon had crouched to be in eyeline with her. Y/n just didn’t want this game to be up though so she smiled playfully at him and started to squirm and turn under the body pinning her down until she felt another set of hands on her, one pushing down on her lower back and one on her neck, pinning her head to the side with pressure on her nape so she could see who was holding her down but not who was ontop of her, Yoongi.

“She hissed at me this morning” - Taehyungs voice came from somewhere in the room but she couldn’t see, it was predatory and lower than usual but he got a laugh from Yoongi in response

“Yeah? She does this to me everytime we see eachother” - He couldn’t hide his amusement and he didn’t say it in a way that indicated he didn’t like it at all because it really was fun for him, he had no complaints.

“Are you going to apologise to Hoseok, look what you did to his hand kitten” - Yoongi’s voice was guided along with his hand on her nape turning her head to see a small drop of blood at the two puncture wounds from her fangs on the set of hands holding hers down, Hoseok. It did spark something in her to move forward and treat it, to heal it over because she’d hurt his perfect skin but she couldn’t reach in her position.

“If I had known you were such a brat I would have treated you a bit differently to how I have been, thinking you were this shy little princess this whole time” - Hoseoks words were low and raspy in her ear and had her breath catching, tail rubbing over his stomach that was hovering over her.

“I’m not a brat” - That got laughs, 4 sets of them

“Oh right I forgot, only with me your a brat” - Yoongi sounded smug about it and she smiled devilishly at him showing off the fangs that had punctured Hoseoks hand.

Anyone would of been scared, being watched and pinned by 4 predators but all she felt was excited, infact she couldn’t stop that purr that cut off any words she could of said, loudly tumbling out of her chest as she relaxed in their hold, no longer fighting. It shocked them really, she just turned into a happy little kitten even while being in the room with 4 potential threats, not that they would ever lay a finger on her like that.

“Now your revealing all your secrets pretty, purring like that you’d think we were playing with your tail or your ears” - Hoseok was entirely teasing but his words only made her purr more and sigh happily, they half thought she was going to fall back asleep

“You’re not going to run anymore are you? Because we will do this all again” - Namjoon spoke carefully making sure she’d process every word and he just got a nod in response. That was good enough as Yoongi took his hands away much to her displeasure and Hoseok took his hand off her own but before he could get away she grabbed the hand that was holding her down and brought it to her lips, gently licking over the small wound.

“M’ sorry” - Her words were sincere, she hadn’t meant to hurt him but it got her flipped onto her back, Hoseok gently holding her jaw as he leant over her, opening her mouth and using that same hand to gently tap her fangs, she half wanted to bite down again but the position he was holding her meant she couldn’t move her jaw if she wanted too.

“That’s alright, you just wanted to bite down on something, was Jungkook not enough yesterday? I saw all those marks you left on him, we all did” - The recollection just made her eyes widen and she flushed not knowing what to say before he smirked and pulled off of her. She hadn’t realised all the marks would really stay, well besides the one on his hip she thought they would fade overnight? The same with her own but that idea was shut down at Hoseoks next words, standing over her at the edge of the bed

“It’s alright pretty, he clearly got you back for it” - His eyes were heated and burned into her as he looked down her body, from her next to her waist were her pajamas had risen again, even if he couldn’t see all of them on her chest now he had seen them earlier. They wouldn’t mention it the images stayed on everyone’s mind, very jealous of it all.

She sat up and it was like she came back to her senses why did she do that why did she run like she had to test them for something!? She was entirely embarrassed but Joon just came over and that’s when she noticed he was dressed for work, in a once pristine suit that now looked a little rough from their chasing and she instantly felt guilty, reaching out and smoothing down it all not even minding how she was dragging her hands down his body. Muttering out apologies for it all but he just shushed her and helped her up, walking her to the kitchen, the three others behind her making sure she didn’t run again.

“Have fun beautiful?” - Jin was teasing but brought her into a welcoming hug when he saw her. He didn’t miss the subtle nod she gave as she admitted it and he just laughed ushering her over to a seat and the sight infront of her made her mouth water, fresh fruits, pancakes and fruit smoothies, enough for more than 8 people. No one mentioned her little game as everyone reached to fill her plate before she could even think of doing it herself, she happily ate away before a question made her think.

“So what did you and Kook do before you got here last night Y/n?” - Joon asked, purely out of curiosity but Kook looked at her shuffling in his seat, almost pleadingly. She didn’t know why but she felt like maybe a little tweaking of the story would be required

“We just went for a drive and watched the city lights for a little bit” - Y/n said with a smile before putting another bite of pancake in her mouth so she didn’t have to say anything else and Kook let out a breath with a nod and a smile.

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The breakfast was delicious and Y/n made sure to give enough praise about the food that Yoongi was red up to his ears before everyone started to get ready for the rest of their days. Jungkook had come and said he’d take her home just like he promised and once there was no one in the room he leant down into her ear to explain himself from earlier

“I don’t think hyungs would be too happy I took you out on my bike so let’s keep that one between us princess” - She understood, it was dangerous and if keeping a little secret meant she could keep going out with him like that she would do it.

Jungkook brought her back to his room to get some fresh clothes, even if he was taking her straight home he still wanted her to feel fresh. Or maybe, he just wanted her to be in his clothes. The problem was, his smallest clothes were going to be extremely large on her but he still picked out a tracksuit for her, a comfortable gray one that he wore often enough to have stained with his scent even freshly washed. He handed it to her telling her she could use the bathroom to change while he changed into one of his own in the bedroom and she didn’t waste any time to take it in there and bring it up to her nose, loving his scent.

She couldn’t have been quicker to strip down and put his tracksuit on but soon ran into the problem of it being far too long, adjusting the waist was easy by pulling the cords and tying but the arms and legs were ridiculously long even if she loved it and it made her feel beyond cozy, just worrying she’d trip. It wasn’t a problem for Jungkook when she came back out the bathroom though, immediately kneeling down and placing her hands on his shoulders to brace her as he picked one of her legs up and rolled up the bottoms to make them the right length and repeated it with the other leg. The same went for the sleeves, rolling them up until they were right.

Y/n didn’t take her pyjamas home, instead she folded them up and left them on his bed, not exactly knowing her intentions when doing so but knowing it felt right. Jungkook looked at her with admiration as she did, thinking hopefully she’d have her own closet here, hopefully she’d have her own room here.

Goodbyes were as they usually were, kisses all over her face from all of the members but she hadn’t forgotten what happened a while before with Hoseok and Jungkook and while she didn’t have the courage that day to kiss any of the others on the lips, she had already kissed Hoseok on the lips before so when she thought no one was looking she put her hands on his shoulders and leant up to place a peck on his lips. Hoseok didn’t let it just be a peck, he leant in further for a real kiss, letting her gasp into his mouth before whispering about how he knew how she really wanted to act now after her little run. She was blushing profusely as she moved onto find the next member that just so happened to be Taehyung who had seen her kiss Hoseok so he got in his own small comment.

“I hope that’ll be the rest of us soon” - followed by him placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth that didn’t help the blush already on her cheeks. He’d be sure to tease and question Hoseok about their little moment later but Y/n had to go for now.

———————————————————————————

Jungkook had driven Y/n and played his playlist enough for her to hear it all a few times now, she loved his music taste and had started to pick up on the words so she decided this time to listen to the music instead of going to sleep for as long as she could. Jungkook noticed her not going to sleep and subconsciously sung along with the songs playing, one hand on the wheel, some of them were explicit enough for her to get shy and pretend to focus on the view outside like when he was playing ‘Wus Good / Curious’ and Jungkook easily sang along like it was nothing. Y/n noticed how Jungkook was really fancying a bit of PND playing and Y/n found it really suited him, having less than appropriate thoughts about Jungkook at some of the lyrics he was singing with that golden voice.

For example i wish he was wearing tight jeans so i could feel his… and Jungkook wasn’t oblivious to it, involving her in some of his singing as he would sing the ‘that’s my baby’ of Ballin’ at her and point at her to make her laugh or when Freak In You was playing he jokingly would sing some of the lyrics at her just to watch her stutter or laugh, knowing how she’d react all flustered or laugh. God she was so in love with him

Wait what did she really just think that

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I think today’s update might be a bit shorter than usual but I hope you enjoy it! I’m not sure if some parts seem confusing if they aren’t in enough detail just lmk if they are x Thank you for reading lmk what you think, my asks are open 💖

ཐི♡ཋྀ

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Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You — Chapter 22

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: there might be some spelling errors here and there which I’m sorry about—I’ll try and remember to check through in the morning <3

word count: 7,866

-Part 21- -Part 23-

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More than once, you find your feet leading you in the direction of Bas’ house, but you always turn before you can reach his street. 

A few days ago you’d thought it would take a fortnight for the transition between autumn and winter to truly become apparent. You were wrong. 

There’s no way you could mistake it for anything else, with the way breath now huffs from chapped, rosey mouths like ancient, angry beasts prowling across an early morning moor; how now when you step outside and leave the warmth of the heating enchantments the cold nips at your throat, splashing ice into your lungs, encasing your arched ears in snow-kissed winds; how even without much sense left in your hands you can feel as your blood recoils from the temperature, scrambling back to be closer inside your body and abandoning your limbs for the sake of comfort. Useless body. If you were instead one of the massive bears kept in the Winter Court with thick coats and dense, padded bodies this would be much more bearable. 

As it is, you have to settle for keeping a brisk pace and wrapping yourself in an uncomfortable amount of layers. Layers that wrinkle too easily beneath one another and store sweat in their fibres. It’s always a relief to be once again indoors so you can shed the many skins. Especially when so much of the cosier cloaks are inlined with fur. You try not to let it bother you but as soon as that particular smell of leather creeps in, or meat with a little too much preserving salt…

Winter’s gotten a little easier. You can appreciate some of its beauty now it’s less likely to kill you. Its glittering exquisite. 

“What about this?” Elain gestures to a folded quilt that’s laid out amongst other similar items: bedsheets, pillowcases, towels, flannels, cloths. The quilt is a patchwork of small squares about the size of your open palm, each one different in pattern but similar in colour—pinks, pale pinks, whites, creams, oranges, pale oranges, a glitter of egg-yolk yellow. Around the hem hangs a slight frill made up of white lace. On its underside shows the padding designed for comfort, perfect for maintaining heat and being a cozy blanket to nestle under. 

An image passes through your mind then of all four of your crammed into that tiny bed, stuffed beneath a blanket like this in the depths of winter. Fingers so cold they felt like ice, cold enough to wake you from your sleep if a bare foot grazed your calf. Nesta and Feyre would usually be on the outside during the colder months, rarely taking place in the cozy, warm centre. You and Elain ever the middle children. 

A second image forms soon after, except instead of being set in an alternate past seems to fit more with a branch of the future: all four of you stuffed on the long sofa in the River House’s living room, the fire crackling behind its muffler but Nesta still on the furthest side. Some of you would be reading, Nyx might be cuddled beneath the quilt, close to Feyre’s chest, and maybe you might be stitching something together or sewing a pattern onto the sleeve of Elain’s top. Nyx would probably be briefly fascinated by the lace frill. Then if it was interesting enough he might try to eat it. 

You zone back in when you realise Elain’s looking to you for an answer. You wince, wanting to pull back into yourself and hide in your skeleton, sit on one of your own ribs, arms hung over an upper one. “I really… It’s lovely, but the bedroom I have is fine. We don’t need to find replacement stuff.” 

Elain seems a little crestfallen but quickly blinks it away, already turning her head to scour for something else that might take your interest. “Are you sure? It looks so warm,” Feyre pipes up, inspecting the little patterns of the squares. “I can imagine you all wrapped up in this, tucked away into a chair with a book heavy enough to break someone’s foot.” 

“I’m sure,” you assure her. “Really, the bedroom in your house is more than enough. I’m not sure I even wear half the clothes in the wardrobe—I’m fine.” 

After the news had been announced, tears had been shed, and you’d all spent the night on that sofa too afraid to let go of one another, Nesta had been the one to suggest fixing up the House of Wind again. It had been patched up after the initial explosion, but Nesta had suggested making it somewhere nice, reasoning all of the furniture had been destroyed anyway, so your room would be in need of some redecorating anyway. ‘Besides,’ Nesta had pointed out the following morning, ‘It’s mine. I can do what I like with it.’ And spend Rhys’ money while doing it, had gone unsaid, but after Nyx’s birth at least some of their aggression seemed to have boiled off. 

“This just seems like too much,” you admit while walking at Feyre’s side, Nesta strolling along the far side of the street while Elain’s already begun appraising a new set of pale green pillowcases. “You don’t have long,” Feyre murmurs in reply, her voice straining toward the end, “six months will fly by.” 

“I don’t mind,” you whisper absently. “My room’s fine as it is. We don’t need to redecorate the entire House of Wind.” 

Feyre falls silent, feet tapping in time together along the icy cobbles. Then her arm is tentatively slipping beneath your own, gently linking at the elbow, careful not to cause any aches in your flesh. You squeeze her faintly, bodies pressing closer in the cold, arms locked to try and keep up warmth while walking through the city. 

You glance up at the clock tower constructed at one end of the main square. It reads midday. Elain will be leaving for the human lands in a little under an hour and none of you have yet had lunch. Feyre follows your gaze, reading the time. “She won’t be gone for long, remember?” Feyre assures quietly. “She’ll be back before night.” 

You blink, turning to face your younger sister, “Oh, no, I wasn’t thinking…” You flush, averting your eyes as you pull your arm from Feyre’s, “I’m not that clingy.” It comes out sounding more defensive than you’d thought it would, the tug of your arm rougher than you’d anticipated, but you speed your pace regardless, crossing the street to instead join Nesta. She’s looking into the window of a large bookshop, her sharp eyes picking out titles even through the warped and rippling glass panes. 

Nesta reads even more than you do, which is saying something. You’re not sure you could even read a romance book anymore. Not without a piercing sense of loss pinned through your heart. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Nesta muses, pulling from your thoughts, standing straighter as if she’s considering entering the shop, “of having a meal up at the House of Wind. Would you come?” You blink, looking over to her inquisitively, “Just…a meal?” 

“I was thinking of bringing Emerie and Gwyn to it, too. None of you have met one another.” Nesta turns back to the window, though she doesn’t seem to be looking at the books anymore. “Elain and Feyre would be there, too.” 

“For sometime near solecist?” 

“That could work.” 

You pull a part of your lower lip into your mouth, nipping at the interior. “Have you thought of a present for Feyre this year?” You ask, still being without a gift. It’s still about two months away, but…time has a habit of slipping through your fingers. Silverish eyes slide sidewards to you, and you glance at her questioningly. Nesta looks back into the window, “I think the plan is to all do something together. Elain seems to think that’s what Feyre wants.”

“Do you think she does?” 

“Probably,” Nesta replies. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“Won’t that ruin the surprise?”

“Wouldn’t it be better to know what she wants so we don’t do something she won’t enjoy?” 

You purse your lips. “Elain can ask.” 

Nesta seems to decide she’s done with the bookshop, turning her body to move on ahead and you follow quietly. “So, about the meal?” She reminds, and you swallow but manage a short nod of your head. “It sounds nice.” Your lips part, throat flexing in preparation to add on, I’d like to meet them, but something stops you and then the moment has passed. Nesta seems satisfied enough with your answer. 

Had she also mentioned Elain and Feyre intentionally when bringing up the dinner? 

You worry your lower lip. It’s been nice spending time with them again. Being on the sofa. Feeling bones press together. Hair sliding over shoulders. But has it been too much for them? Feyre has a husband and a baby and a court. Nesta has Cassian and her own life. Elain…is who you’d usually spend time with, but she’s leaving to visit Lucien. 

Bas is leaving too, soon. 

Maybe you should be returning to the House of Wind on your own instead of making them take you there and pad the way. You’re not ready to go back. Maybe you should just lock yourself up in the Prison. But that’s a stupid thought, one that’s not going to help you. Why try and make things worse for yourself? 

Your stomach grumbles and you flush, putting your hand over it in attempts to quiet the noise. 

It’s about time for lunch, anyway. 

————

“You haven’t been up to the House since, right?” 

You startle, spinning around as your hand recoils from the door handle, chest rising and falling so rapidly that saliva gets caught in your throat and you have to cough into the crook of your arm. At least you didn’t eat too much over supper, or you might have been worried about being sick.

Azriel stands silently in the hallway a little distance away, his eyes vaguely alarmed at your abrupt reaction. He clears his throat. “Sorry. I thought you’d heard me.” 

“It’s fine,” you excuse, coughing once more before lowering your arm, going to straighten your skirts before a rush of something shy flutters through your chest and your hands instead join at your front. “You’re just…very quiet.” 

Azriel hums, and you shift on your feet. You’ve been spending so much of your free time with your sisters that you haven’t really seen anyone but them over the past two days. Well, aside from Madja, who you’re still seeing every morning at ten o’clock, much to your relief. You lick your lips, finding them chapped and dry. “So…was there something you wanted?” 

Azriel nods his head once. “Not exactly. I was thinking it would be a good idea for you to readjust yourself to the dimensions of the House, since Nesta’s told me you’re redecorating.” You flush, eyes dipping away, once again shifting on your feet. “Well, it’s more her idea…” you hedge, “since…you know, it’s hers now…?” 

“I know. But you’ll be wanting new furniture,” he reasons. “The walls had to be realigned so your room will be wider once it’s complete.” 

“Once it’s complete?” 

He nods his head. “You blew it up, remember?”

The flush deepens and you take a subconscious step back towards your room. You hadn’t meant to wreck the House, even if it was only your room that was really ruined. “I just meant…you mentioned walls needing to be realigned, so I was wondering whether they’ve yet been…” 

Azriel nods his head. “They have.” 

A beat passes. “So, are you coming?” 

You look up, surprised. “Hm? Where?”

His eyes narrow. “To the House. Is your head okay?” 

“Fine.” Your brows furrow. “Fine.” 

“No headaches?” He pushes, hazel eyes scanning swiftly over your body in a painfully analytic fashion. “No bouts of forgetfulness? Brain fog?” 

“No. No, I’m fine. None of that,” you assure, glancing down to the hardwood floor, a small part of you still stumbling at his attention. But it’s all good and fine noticing a problem once it’s obvious. “Besides,” you add, “I’m sure Madja would have picked that out by now…” Right? Madja’s been nothing but dependant as company. Competent and kind, so gentle with your skin and flesh and mind. 

Azriel seems to disagree, his head tilting slightly and you wonder if it’s a movement he’s showing intentionally or whether it’s simply something he’s learned to do when around other people after having every reaction trained out of him. “You’re only seeing her for about twenty minutes each day. It’s easy to miss some things.” 

“Yes, but isn’t she…? It’s Madja. Isn’t she supposed to be…I don’t know, one of the best healers in Velaris?” Isn’t she? Arrogance aside, wouldn’t it make sense Rhys would only want someone he could trust around during Feyre’s birthing? Madja must have proven herself to be reliable hundreds of times to be trusted enough to work so high up. Azriel nods his head, confirming your inner thoughts, “Probably in all of the Night Court.” 

“So, she would know if something was wrong.”

“There’s no harm in double checking.” 

You swallow, eyes awkwardly scanning him and the hallway, too nervous to look at him properly. “Well,” you say, once more clearing your throat, “I think I’m fine.” 

Azriel nods his head. “Shall we go?” 

You brows furrow deeply. “Where?” 

“To the House of Wind,” he says, stepping forward as if to reach for you, “Did you forget already?”

Your nostrils flare, lips curving at their edges. “I’m messing with you, Azriel.” 

His hand pauses in mid air, then it retracts and he stands straighter again, a look of faint displeasure held between his brows, “You shouldn’t joke like that.” Tension coils in your chest, and you look away from him, lips pursing, “life’s dismal enough as it is. I’ll joke about what I want to.” Azriel sighs, taking a step back to where he’d originally been standing, reinstating that cold distance between you that has your heart stretching thin. 

“Joke about what you like, but keep that humour away from your sisters. They’ll be going through a lot, right now.” 

You look at him then, arms lightly folded across your chest. “Will they?” You ask, tension coiling tighter. “Yes. I’m sure they’ll be finding it the most difficult right now.” Azriel’s chest expands, then he’s blowing out a harsh breath, “you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You know you could have said it better.” 

Quiet hangs in the air, then your throat is rolling, fight disintegrating when he makes no move to respond, shame at your snappiness creeping to your surface; disappointment he didn’t attempt to amend the exchange. Just one sentence would have been okay. You’re past pretending like you’d demand a lot from him. A few words and forgiveness would fall from your lips in a desperate spill, hungry for his care. 

Your lips press together. “Shall we go, then?” 

Azriel had flown you up—he hadn’t wanted you to winnow. You hadn’t thought much of the House since you’d been staying in Feyre’s home, but now you’re back and the smell is wrapping around you and it feels like you never left. It’s after a family dinner, you’re not yet obviously ill, warmth from Bas’ palms lingers on your hips and you’re still on good terms, Mor’s offered to take you out into Velaris and you never wrote back to Eris. You never told Azriel how you felt, and you still speak regularly in the library, your heart fluttering every time your eyes would meet, and you still think you’re in with a chance of keeping his attention. 

They hadn’t felt good at the time—they hadn’t felt enough—but you’d take them back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The two of you walk in silence down the hallways that lead to your old room, but when you reach for the handle you almost pause, able to feel the weight of Azriel’s attention on you and for a truly awful moment you worry they’re all inside, your room already done up, money already wasted on you, and you’ll have to pretend some kind of gratitude for the debt. But you cast the thought away, because that’s ridiculous—you’d been out with your sisters just this morning. 

You’d been unfair to Feyre. Short-tempered. Intentionally choosing to keep misunderstanding her. And then you’d done the same with Nesta, pushing your emotions onto them. 

Maybe it would be better for you to return up here again, so you’re away from them. Isolated, so your foul moods don’t bleed onto them. So they can stay happy, and you can deteriorate without having to feel bad about your inner necrosis. So they don’t see the way you’ll fall apart over these last six months. 

The handle twists in your palm and the door swings open. 

Azriel was right about the walls—they’re further apart than they used to be, your room suddenly a few inches wider, enough to disorientate you. But that’s not it. 

Your hand falls away from the handle, breathing shallow and deathly as you step back into the room. A small bed has been pushed where the old one used to lie, a similar looking desk up against the wall, a wardrobe near the windows, all resembling their previous pieces but so clearly different. Emptier. 

Your stomach drops, and the ground falls out from beneath your feet. 

“Where-” Your throat strangles the words in your mouth. Warping them to a hoarse rasp. “Where are my things?” 

You hadn’t thought about it. You’d put it out of your mind. Made sure to lock it up tight in a box along with the rest of the mess because you’d fall apart time and time again if you could think about it. But if the furniture was obliterated, and the walls destroyed… 

“They were blown apart, too.” 

The far end of the room stretches, distancing itself further and further from you as the walls either side become narrower, the floor beneath your feet groaning as if it’ll give any second. All of it’s gone? Everything? Everything?

You walk over to the desk, fingers tracing the surface, lips stitched shut. A painting had once sat there…greens, and golds, and falling stars. A romance book sat in solitary on an upper shelf. A bookmark with silver thread. A pendant with a small map contained inside. 

Your feet carry you to the wardrobe. There’s no smile drawn into the dust on the mirror. No lipstick, nor nail polish. The jigsaw you never touched, still wrapped in its bow. All of it? All of it’s gone? 

Scared eyes turn to the bed, glancing once to the empty bedside before you’re faintly walking over, lowering to your knees to peer beneath the mattress. Staring into the empty space beneath. Dark and hollow. No box holding your golden solar system. No bags from a shopping trip with Mor. No comfy slippers, and that dress that you’d only worn once, in the shop. The one that had looked nice, and you’d never worn it, too ashamed of yourself. 

“Did the-” The words are sticky, drying your throat together, tongue stuck too the roof of your mouth. “My orrery…?” 

Your heart is pounding and there’s a delicate fire beneath your skin, a cool sweat glossing your flesh. A soft roaring around your ears. You can’t have lost all of it. 

“A couple of things made it,” Azriel says from the doorway. You turn to look at him, the air around him warping and spinning faintly. Shallow and shimmering. Azriel shifts, something about his expression changing that you can’t quite pick out. “Are you feeling alright? You look…” 

“I’m fine,” you whisper, staring at him because it seems too much effort to really move your eyes elsewhere, lids pinned to your brows. A couple of things made it. A couple of things survived. 

Azriel nods his head. “Wait here,” he says, “I’ll get them.” He looks like he might says something else, hazel eyes flicking over you, but he keeps his mouth shut and turns, disappearing from the doorframe. 

In his absence a wave of dizziness overcomes you. It’s without nausea, but the room is shifting, your head unable to find a balance to keep your body upright and you end up settling lower to the ground, lying on your side, knees curled to your chest. The room is so empty without any of yourself in it. Is this what Bas’ home will look like once he’s gone? 

Is this what your room will look like, once you’re gone? 

You picture it, the raised bed with the thick duvets, the desk pushed up against the wall to lie beneath the window, the bathroom connected with its cool, pale tiles. The room you and your sisters spent an afternoon and evening contained in, chatting and drinking tea; the room Madja’s tried to heal you in; the room you found out you were going to die in. Will it stop being your room once you’re gone? Will Feyre repurpose it? Keep it as it is? 

A floorboard creaks in the hallway, but you just don’t have the energy to move. Choosing to instead curl tighter, allowing your eyes to close in order to try and contain the hot pressure that’s building behind them. You don’t want to cry. 

Can death come any quicker? 

Footsteps pause on the threshold, and shame tugs on your gut, wanting to scuttle away and hide beneath the dark hollow of the bed. To crawl away to some dark space and be out of everyone’s way, keeping to your own corner far from anyone else. Safe and alone in the darkness. Like a small spider lurking on the top shelf in a wardrobe, just trying to keep out of someone’s way. You could get so far if you had eight legs. If you were as small and nimble as a spider you could go anywhere. 

The mattress stretches as a weight is delivered to it, then a presence is gathering at your back. 

A few seconds pass, then he’s asking quietly, “What are you thinking about?” 

You take time evening your breaths before you answer. “Spiders.” 

“Is there one under there?” Azriel asks, still keeping to that soft, low voice. Your lips tremble, but you open your eyes enough to look into the darkness, peering about for any eight-legged creatures. You shake your head faintly. “What got you thinking about spiders?” He asks next, and you realise his voice is close enough he’s probably sitting behind you. On the floor with you. You try to shrug your shoulders, not wanting to answer, but the movement is stunted from lying on your side. 

“Do you mind them?” He asks. 

“No,” you reply, voice creaking through the quiet. They’d made you uncomfortable at first, when they’d started creeping into your house all those years ago. Spinning their webs on bookshelves and between table legs, down the hinges of doorframes, where the breeze brings in smaller bugs for them to catch. “They’re small.” 

“Even the big ones?” Azriel replies. 

“They don’t hurt anyone.” 

“They look creepy.” 

Your brow furrows, then you’re rolling over on the floor to face him. Sure enough he’s sat a little distance back, arms around his parted knees. “Are you scared of spiders?” 

Azriel’s eyes twinkle. “Not the small ones.” 

You blink, unsure what to make of that. “Then, the big ones?” He hums in a way that might be a yes. It’s hard to pick out what he means by that one, smooth noise. “Which ones?” You ask, watching him quietly. “I know there are large ones in the Summer Court jungles? Arachnids as big as your torso.” 

Azriel smiles. “Those are fine.” 

“But their venom can paralyse you,” you argue softly, brows furrowing. Small ones are fine, small ones can’t hurt you. But the larger ones, those can bite. Those ones can be dangerous. “They’re easy enough to avoid,” Azriel reasons. 

A look of concentration knits itself between your brows, and you push yourself up from the floor, shifting back to lean against the bed. “What court do they come from?” Azriel’s lips curve faintly—he’s not going to tell you. “The continent?” You ask, trying to work around it, but this time he shakes his head. “On Prythian?” He nods. Your eyes narrow, inclining your chin by a singular degree, “how big are they?” 

Azriel pauses, thinking. “Curled up…probably as large as that bed,” he answers, nodding to the bed you’re leaning against. “Splayed out…each joint in a leg was probably around your height.” Your eyes widen in fascination. Then they narrow again, suspicion rising in your mind, “is this creature magical?” His lips don’t smile, but his eyes do, and he nods his head. Your mouth parts, “that’s cheating.” 

“How’s it cheating?” Your mouth opens again but you can’t give an answer, eyes darting about as you think. “You’ve done most of your learning while you’ve been here, haven’t you? We have books on the creatures here. I’m sure you know some of them.” 

“I don’t know of any spiders that big,” you reply with your brows furrowed, frustrated you don’t know the species he’s talking about. Azriel laughs and you avert your eyes, scowling into the floorboards. 

“She’s locked up in the Prison now, anyway,” he says casually, as if that makes it better. You look at him again, “‘she’?” 

He nods. “Can you guess?”

Your brow tightens again. “I don’t want to.” You pull your knees up to your chest, readjusting your skirts so they’re covering your ankles. Leaning your chin into the dip of your palm, a downward tug to your displeased lips. Azriel raises a brow, “I didn’t know you were a sore loser.” 

“We weren’t competing.” You mutter. 

“Are you really upset?” He asks, sounding perplexed. You sigh, shifting on the floor now the bed is beginning to dig into your spine. “No,” you mumble, “I’m used to it.” 

He smiles, eyes twinkling, “used to what?” 

You don’t smile back. “You.” 

Azriel’s features mellow out, light winking away in his eyes and you watch the warmth sift down and out from his expression. “You aren’t entitled to my affections, just because of your situation,” he says softly, but sternly. No leniency afforded to you. No padding or gentleness to muffle the hurt. An ashamed blush creeps up your neck, spreading through your cheeks as you lower your head. “I’m not talking about that,” you mumble. Gloved fingers wring together and you pull your legs tighter to your body, “I’m talking about how needlessly cold you were. How clearly you cared for Elain without thought for me.” 

“You needed a clear answer. I was helping.” 

“You used me,” you whisper. 

Across the floor, you can feel it as Azriel stiffens. Almost freezes. 

“You used me,” you repeat, this time looking at him, “you knew how I felt about you. There’s no way you couldn’t have, Azriel. You-”

“You kissed me back.” Hazel eyes pierce into you, the shadows at his back stirring as though raising from their sleep. “You-”

“I’m talking about before.” The whisper rushes out of you on a swift exhale, hurrying to get the words past your lips so he doesn’t remind you any further. You swallow, a familiar feeling of shame coating your skin. “When I would speak with you in the library. And you would only speak with me to learn more of Elain. You were using me.” Azriel’s brows narrow and your heartbeat quickens unpleasantly. “You know I was making sure she was okay,” he claims softly, “the Mother knows you were too preoccupied.” 

“Stop lying to me.” A hot pressure is building behind your eyes again, staring at him in this room with the walls that feel like they’re closing in. “I know you love Elain. I know that, so stop trying to pretend like I’m imagining it. You wanted to know more about her so you spoke with me to learn more. You must have known how lonely I was, how hard it was for all of us after being ripped from our home, from our lives, and shoved into a world we had never wanted to be a part of. It’s like you’re just trying to get me to hate you.” 

As soon as the words leave your lips you freeze, staring at him with widened eyes. 

“Is that-?” You cover your mouth, toes curling in your socks as you huddle your limbs together. “Is that why you were so cold afterwards? Was it so horrible to deal with? Was it really so disgusting to you that…?” 

Azriel says nothing and you feel at that moment like the earth might split open and swallow you whole, suctioning you down far below the ground for discovering such a horrible secret, snatching you away before you can tell anyone and sealing you a thousand times in jagged stone beneath cold, damp earth. 

————

Her eyes are wide and her chest is heaving, knees pressing tight together as if to hide her body from him. He should lower his head to respect her dignity, look away to offer her privacy but that in itself would be yielding too much information. Doing anything other than watching her crumble would be exposing a part of himself and no matter how much she’s hurting, he cannot. He will not. 

Azriel doesn’t care if she hit the nail on the head. He hadn’t meant any of it. But had he really been expected to simply accept her tenderness for him? Even if he wasn’t the spymaster he’d be able to see how much she thinks of him, how she listens to him and hangs on his words as if they heal wounds. If she thinks she loves him, she should know how awful he is. 

————

You shake your head, still staring at him. Then you try to push yourself to your feet. 

You need air. Need fresh air, and to get out of a room as cramped as this one. But when you stand you spot the things he’d laid on the bed. The things that had survived the blast, and you freeze. 

On top of the bare mattress, weighing into the bed is a thickly bound volume. The spine reads: Prythian: An Anthology Of Discoveries, in golden lettering. Sitting small atop the book however, is a familiar silver band, its narrow edges smooth and shiny. It’s the ring Eris gifted you on that last day in Autumn. The one he’d told you would help keeping your magic in check. The one you’d left discarded then nearly killed Azriel by being unable to control yourself. 

“This…? This is all that made it?” Your fingers trace the title, and you consider for a moment raking your nails down its surface, scalping its smooth leather and ripping the pages from the spine. The silver is cold against your fingers, and you imagine casting the window wide and throwing it out to the winds. Throwing it far, far away, somewhere you’ll never have to see it again, where you’ll never be reminded of the poor choices you made that brought such an unbearable amount of shame into your life. 

You can feel it begin to crush into you again, and your knees shake like they might buckle. Why is this all that lasted? 

“The book was enchanted, as many are nowadays.” Azriel’s voice is far off in your head, the world tipping beneath you. “The magic protecting it was ripped apart, but the book’s still intact. The ring seems to have its own magic warding it, though it’s been damaged.” 

“Is this-?” You turn to face him, arm banding across your stomach, able to feel as the shame and hurt squeezes you insides. “Is this your way of punishing me for what I did? By showing me this?” Azriel’s brow furrows, and he takes a step forward, “No.” You’re not sure you believe him. He takes another step forward, so he’s stood before you and you have to tilt your head slightly to look at him. “I thought you’d be happy. I thought it would make you feel better. That you had something to keep.” 

“That reminds me of why you all hate me,” you say, hot tears spilling from your lashes, scalding your cheeks. “You can’t be expecting me to believe that you’re showing me these things because you’ve forgiven them. That you’ve so suddenly had a change of heart about what happened. Not this.” You sniff, trying to hide your face. “Not you.” 

Silence hangs in the air, stretched and painful until, “You think we hate you?” 

“I know you do,” you whisper, “and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” 

Scarred fingers collect around your wrists, and you try to cover yourself as he gently pulls your palms from your tear-stained face. “Look at me.” Look at me. 

Does he know what he’s doing? Or are you joining dots that have no business being joined? You open your eyes but look away, staring at the floor, at a section of wooden panelling that must have been redone when- “Look at me.” 

His shadows cooly gather beneath your chin, lifting your head but you stubbornly refuse, instead casting your gaze to the right where the door is. Just anywhere but him. Anywhere but his eyes, eyes that will make your heart splinter. You look at the threshold, the handle of the door- 

Azriel’s wings open, and then you’re ensconced in night. 

His shadows gather between your feet, circling overhead so there’s nowhere for you to look anymore but him, everything else inked out to be bland and uninteresting. Only a very small amount of light is allowed through the darkness, like a dozen black veils of silk have been thrown over you to keep you together. Slowly your breaths begin to settle, transported away from the demanding present and instead somewhere else entirely, where time has been paused and you have no pressure of worry beating down on you. 

Your nostrils flare, but your breathing has become even. Chest slowly rising up and down, calmed and quietened. 

Your throat trembles, but you look at him. 

His hazel eyes are normal. No disgust or revulsion to be found. No ice, either. At first glance you might have called the look indifferent, but…calm. Quiet. 

Hands release your wrists, one lifting to the circle of your shoulder, but the other moves for your chest. You inhale softly as his fingers graze across the fabric of your top, his touch featherlight and careful. They pause, coming to a stop in a place you’re certain he’ll be able to feel the pounding of your heart. But he makes no remark on the wild rhythm, instead pressing the pads of his fingers down so they’re resting atop your breast. “You have a scar here, don’t you?” 

Something tugs from beneath your ribs, an alertness jerking awake beneath his touch. 

“It’s small, isn’t it? Barely there. Less than a scratch, but it’s scarred.” 

What? How does he…? 

His hand finds yours and he guides you a step closer to him, then lifts your palm to the side of his stomach, his ribs. “I don’t hate you,” he says quietly, but in the shared silence you have no need to strain your ears; you can hear him perfectly. “None of them hate you either.” 

“You’re lying,” you whisper. 

“I’m not,” he replies, pressing your palm flat to where that matching scar lies, embedded deep in his flesh. Where he’d stolen the arrow you had meant for yourself. 

Your head hangs in defeat, and your forehead meets his chest. His hand releases your shoulders, scarred fingers skimming the small hairs sprouting from the top of your nape. 

————

Night has fallen by the time you return to the River House. 

It’s dark and you wrap your arms tight over your chest, wind playing with your hair, kissing ice up your neck. At your side, Azriel seems unbothered by the descending winter, appearing as stoic as ever. 

Coming up the pathway that leads past the front lawn you can see the lights in the House are one, letting you see in to the living room and kitchen, each separated by the hallway that connects to the door before you. No one’s in the living room, but you can easily make out the figures of two of your sisters in the kitchen—Feyre and Elain. You wonder what they could be speaking about when Elain soundlessly slams her hand down on the table. 

You pause, and you know Azriel’s watching too. 

Elain’s teeth flash in the faelight and your brows narrow, pulse spiking—they look like they’re arguing. You hurry a step forward, hand falling to the handle but Azriel places his palm atop your shoulder, pausing you. You look back at him. “We should give them space. Let them sort it out on their own.” 

You consider, glancing between him and the front door. Teeth nip at the interior of your lip—you’ve not seen Elain like that in a long time. She’s not one to become easily agitated. “No,” you say, “they’re my sisters. I want to know what’s wrong.” 

“It looks private. You should wait-” 

But you turn the handle, giving him a strange look, “They’re my sisters.” 

As soon as the door opens, Elain’s voice rings through the halls, bouncing off the walls with crystal clarity, “I want to know why I had to hear it through Lucien, Feyre. Who, I might add, didn’t even hear it from one of you.” 

Quiet settles, tense and taut and you halt, blinking. What have you just walked in on? 

With as little noise as possible you push the cloak from your shoulders, hanging it on one of the hooks in the entryway. Elain’s voice carries on, unaware of the new listeners. “Are you going to explain it?” She asks, voice softened from its previous cut, still bearing a nasty edge. “I didn’t want to worry you,” comes Feyre’s quietened reply. “I didn’t mean to hide it, Elain, but the timing was never right, and you’re both…” 

“We’re both what?” Elain asks sternly, her voice tight. “Untrustworthy because we aren’t as tightly knit with others in your circle?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Feyre replies, with soft steel. “That’s got nothing to do with it.” 

“Then tell me why you didn’t think to mention it.” 

Silence falls, and you feel guilt gather in your chest for eavesdropping. You turn to glance at Azriel but he seems to have vanished into shadow at some point. Maybe he actually had intended to give them privacy, but you’re in too deep now. Instead of hiding you straighten your skirts, quietly stepping further along the hallway until you reach the kitchen, peeking your head around the doorway, “is everything okay?” 

Cocoa coloured irises flick to you and Feyre turns in the kitchen, spotting you in the hallway. “Fine,” Feyre says—too quickly. You look over to Elain, but she’s watching Feyre instead, coca eyes simmering. You swallow, and step decisively into the room, steadying your voice, “What’s wrong?” Because something’s clearly amiss. 

A tense silence passes and you can feel your insides trembling, as if the quiet is a living, breathing creature, gently but increasingly firmly pushing against you, weighing on your shoulders, pulling on your back, an invisibly current slowly trying to drag you from the room. You stand still. 

Feyre’s shoulders sag in a way you haven’t seen before, her can lowering in a way that casts heavy shadow beneath her eyes and into the downturned corners of her mouth. “We’d thought to keep you out of it,” she says, much too softly for High Lady. “You’re both…” But she trails off, landing her face in her hands and rubbing along the narrow lengths of her curved brows. Her hands fall to her sides and she leans back against the table, arms moving to fold over her chest. “I know what it’s like, to be kept out of something…” She looks at both of you in turn, blue-grey eyes anguished and distraught, showing a turmoil she’s been battling with for quite some time. And what she’s said is true—she knows what that’s like. How she almost died without knowing the circumstances of her own child. She knows better than anyone what it means. 

So what could have made her decide…? 

You release the tension of your stance, settling back against the wall since this seems like something important. 

“You may have seen us to be more on edge than usual…” Feyre confesses, casting a glance to Elain. Your older sister’s expression doesn’t give, but acknowledgement passes through her eyes and Feyre continues. “Nesta’s been practicing with Ataraxia more frequently, despite how little we know about its nature; Amren’s been trying her efforts at furthering her understanding of The Old Language; then the trip Nesta and Cassian went on to the Day Court…to visit Helion’s libraries.” She swallows thickly, shadows accentuating the roll of her throat. “Helion, Spell-Cleaver.” 

“Nesta mentioned a binding spell,” you now recall from that supper all that time ago. Amren had bitten her off. Nesta had Ataraxia out on the table when you’d gone to visit her. What Eris had been talking about during your visit to Autumn. It must have something to do with why he was surprised you weren’t learning to fight. 

But why would you need to?

“We…” Feyre starts but swallows her own words. Besides her, Elain shifts on her feet, her attention casting skittishly around the dimly lit kitchen, only small yellow lights lighting the large room. Your younger sister sighs harshly, rubbing her face once before looking at you fully, hands again to her sides. “We think the Prison is collapsing.” 

Her words settle into the quiet of the kitchen and seem to disappear in the external world while they ring endlessly within your mind, repeating in a space away from the linear passage of time and instead growing louder and louder with every hurried repeat. We think the Prison is collapsing. 

What are you supposed to say to that? 

You can feel your eyes stretch, throat turning dry from breathing through your mouth, lips open while you stare. 

“Why?” You manage to gasp out, throat closing up on itself. Why would the Prison be collapsing? Why now? Why?

“When Nesta fought Lanthys,” Feyre begins solemnly, “perhaps even when she first retrieved the harp…whether it was Ataraxia, one of the Dread Trove, or Lanthys exploiting a worn fibre of the spell’s fabrics…maybe a combination of the three…we don’t know for certain.” 

“You don’t know why the Prison is breaking?” Elain asks, staring at Feyre. 

“We know the wards are weakened,” she corrects, as if savouring the small grace that they seem to still be holding. But for how much longer? “We think it’s in relation to a magical object imbued with Cauldron-made power being in close proximity to such an ancient antiquity…that their magic might have abraded the spells of the Prison… But no. We don’t know for certain.” 

The walls tilt, shadows stretching and you’re thankful you’re leaning against the wall. Feyre meets your gaze with a look you could call grieving. “Please let’s discuss this further in the morning. I’m sorry it was kept…that I helped keep it from you—both of you—but for a conversation like this…” Feyre looks to Elain, a bit of that strength being forced to her surface. “We can speak in the morning.” 

Elain watches Feyre silently, and for a few moments you think you might see anger in her eyes, but it’s turned calm and quiet. “I imagine it’s difficult, in some respects,” Elain says, “to play the role of High Lady.” 

You can’t tell whether it’s meant as consolation or a jab, but Elain’s already departed from the room, leaving just you and Feyre. 

“How long have you known?” You ask in the quiet. Feyre shifts but doesn’t look away from you, “Long enough that we’re running out of options.” 

You nod your head, more than just fatigue now weighing on your lids. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.” 

————

It’s strange how you find yourself meandering the opposite way from your bedroom when you reach the top of the stairs. Seeking out a room you’ve never once tried to approach without explicit permission beforehand. But the whole night had been strange, and your head is swimming slightly, paddling in the shallow part of a clear river. 

Your hand lifts, but at the last second, and for no discernible reason, you change your mind, opening the door quietly without knocking. 

Azriel is sat at his desk, a low light atop the surface, a lampshade tinting the colour a pale yellow. Ink scratches over parchment, and you pause on the threshold, leaning against the doorframe. You could understand the pleasure of spying, if it means seeing people like this. 

He looks up after a moment, seemingly finished with his task as he sets the paper aside and lowers his quill. 

“It was Blue Annis, wasn’t it?” You speak before he has a chance to. “The spider you were telling me about.” 

“Yes.” Azriel inclines his head. “It was.”

Something big enough, cruel enough, powerful enough to strike a chord of unease into Azriel. And the container holding her and countless others is fraying? 

You lean a little more of your weight into the doorframe. “How long do you think is left before the wards are sparse enough for one of them to slip through?” 

“Probably another month,” Azriel replies. His expression doesn’t falter as he adds, “one might’ve already managed.” 

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, fear twisting in your stomach. He must be able to smell it on you. Azriel leans back into his chair, “We’re checking each cell to make sure. So far everything’s been where it should, but it’s a slow process. By the time we happen across an empty one…” He raises a brow as if to say: Who knows how far it’ll have gotten?

A shudder spider-walks down your spine. “Are they all as scary as she is? As Blue Annis?” 

“You’ll work yourself up into a panic like that,” Azriel tells you, his face remaining serious. “You’re already imagining the worst possible creature you can think of, aren’t you?” 

“Is she less scary than I’m imagining?” You ask dryly, forcing a wry curve of your lips. 

Azriel’s eyes seem to twinkle, but maybe it’s the light. 

“What’s she like?” You force yourself to ask, voice lowered beneath the night. But Azriel shakes his head, “Ask me another time.” 

His lips curve, but the light in his eyes has winked out. “You don’t want her to be the last thing on your mind before night.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[sadlynotthevoid]

Modern LCF AU where Lily and Bassen get tired of people trash talking their brother— specially because they know a lot of what they say is exaggerated or down right slander— so they create the first and only (for now) Cale Henituse Appreciation Account (the original one, of course).

The posts alternates between iconic Og!Cale quotes and wholesome annecdotes about him in no particular order and answers fighting hate posts about him.

Some people follow them because they're funny but almost no one believes them. So they decide to reclute Hans to their efforts.

Why? Because he's a good photographer. He has an account dedicated to cute photos of random cats.

Their next post is a short video of Og!Cale crunching down in front of a stray dog, both of them staring at each other and tilting their heads in synchronization. The video ends when the dog puts a muddy paw on his shoulder. He whispers "You're a good girl" and giggles.

When winter break is over, Og!Cale is widely confused. He went away for some weeks to deal with stuff and when he came back no one feared him anymore. No one avoids him, no one looks at him like they day couldn't get worse. Some people even greeted him. Genuinely, friendly greeted him. Not the fake two faced greet people do because they have to.

Rok Soo seats next to him and he's so relieved that he's the same as always— Until he asks him if he plans to adopt the dog.

What dog? What do you mean that "from the video"? What video? There's an account of what?!

He opens his phone and checks it quickly.

Og!Cale, immediately recognizing the pattern speech: Lily, what are you doing on twitter? You're too young.

Lily: It's fine. Oppa and Hans are with me.

Og!Cale: So, those are your accomplices.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

The gojo/m!reader fic is just *chef’s kiss* I fucking love your writing. I know you just posted part 3 and I don’t want to be greedy but can we expect a part 4? 👁️

Lawd, don’t tempt me, nonnie! I have so many headcanons and ideas that I wanted to include but they did not feel relevant to the plot. 😭 Okay - not making any promises! We’ll see how it goes because I have some other fics lined up first! ( ´Д`)y━･~~

Below is the original ending of the fic as a treat! I didn’t write it out originally because I dislike reader-insert endings with a definitive end, I like giving room for the reader to be able to create infinite scenarios with the plot provided (｀_´)ゞ

alternate ending, angst with comfort | not proofread! | wc: 1.5 k

“You gave him a run for your money, huh? I told him it was a cruel idea.”

Air does not inflate your lungs but you inhale anyway, if only to feel your chest rise and fall. He reaches his hand out, and that onyx gaze makes your vision blurry.

“S’guru...?”

Clasping at your cheeks, you try to grasp the reality before you. Nails scratching at your skin as you cast your gaze downwards to your lap. The familiar colour of deep navy blue causes more tears to fall.

“What?” Those vortex-patterned buttons shimmer under the warm lights and Suguru’s hands invade your vision as he gently circles his fingers around your wrist.

“(Y/N), it’s alright. Everything is alright now.” His voice felt like honey, just like before. He’s not decayed or pale or rotten. Suguru is wearing his uniform - like before. Before the Star Plasma incident, before his betrayal, before his death, before your resentment contorted your memory of him into a grotesque spirit.

“You gave it your all. You can rest now.”

The sight past his shoulders is bright and cloudless. The silver beams that hold the glass together meld up and up and up into the roof. The floors are glistening, with not one footprint or stain and the pops of green from the potted plants and the distant forests beyond the glass make your shoulders droop.

“...Where...”

He squeezes your wrist and stands, you have no choice but to do the same.

When you do, he wraps his arms around you. A tight, comforting, squeeze that makes your arms hang awkwardly out with twitching fingers. Your clothes spill from between his hold and you can feel the fine hairs on his cheeks.

“You had every right to hate me, (Y/N). It wasn’t your fault. I don’t hate you, I swear I don’t.”

Tears stream down your face. They feel so cooling, unlike the usual burning that follows.

“I missed you, (Y/N).”

“Suguru...”

“I missed you too. Suguru.”

“(Y/N). Where is he?”

Silence befalls the room. His eyes search and pane from every face to every molecule in the air. As terrifying a thought as it is, Satoru’s six eyes hover unseen over his shoulders. Each pupil looks this way or that way. Some have more than one, long downward-facing lashes fluttering as it darts and consumes the sights before it.

They’re hungrier now. Famished from the timeless chamber that was the Prison Realm.

They’re hungry to lay themselves on you.

Drink in your beauty once more. Drown in your presence and weep when you meet their gaze.

You are not here.

The silence is too familiar.

Satoru feels his chest tighten.

“Mr Gojo,” Yuji steps forward and Shoko purses her lips so Satoru steels his expression. Yuji will tell him you are dead, he will tell him how you perished and if Satoru is lucky (which he hasn’t felt lucky in a long time) Yuji will tell him your body was here.

But Yuji says nothing.

He extends his hand after fishing something out of his pocket and Satoru feels a familiar weight in his palm.

It’s your wedding ring.

The other half to his own that he wore.

He thought you’d melted it down. He’d never seen you wear it after that night.

Were you sentimental too?

Satoru recalls the old books your mother had that left holes in his bookshelves - tracks of their departure shredding through the dust like a stampede of hooves. The drawings that were made in crayon and pens and paint by your children, lining the hallways of home or the fridge (”like the Americans do,” you joked). There were even documents you kept, receipts, of things that held no more value.

You were full of memories just like he was.

He stared at the ring. Delicate, detailed and forlorn without its user.

“He told me he had a plan,” Yuji’s fist shake as he speaks.

“Mr (Y/N) said he’d be alright. He told me to trust him and that everything would be okay. He just told me to get as many comrades out of the area so I did. He - He slipped the ring in my pocket and I didn’t notice.”

You’d been revealed by Sukuna, grasped by the back of your head like a toy. You were decorated like one. Those heavy, patterned, robes and styled hair and painted face. Even with pain contorting your expression you looked as pretty as a doll.

“Lovely sight, isn’t it, my concubine?” Sukuna croons. “You’ve made such an array of allies in my absence. Uruame tells me you’ve even mauled your father, how terrifying.”

Uruame, that bastard. The girl - no. The person that’d been bowing and showing you that horrid swirl pattern on their head - they’d been keeping an eye on you. Ever since you were a child, they’d kept track. To prepare you for Sukuna? Or just to make sure their master's return was celebrated with a feast to please his every desire?

His grip tightens and your yell makes Yuji’s anger simmer under his skin.

‘ I’ll leave the rest to you. ‘ Nanami had told him.

“Sukuna,” he growls out.

The King of Curses, with those lovely eyes Yuji cherished so dearly, smiled like a mad man.

“Oi, brat. Shall I show you how deeper into despair I can take you?”

“Sukuna told Mr (Y/N) to kill us or he’d do it himself. Neither of us expected him to,” Yuji trails off, his nails digging crescent moon shapes into his palms. It’s Yuta who finishes the sentence for him;

“He used Divine Flame to its greatest height. As a way to stop Sukuna from chasing after us and as a way to weaken him.”

“...He had sacrificed himself, is that what you’re saying?” Satoru watches Yuta nod and as Yuji sullenly does the same, Choso comes to his side.

“His flames are still burning. They’re fading but, he did weaken Sukuna considerably,” Shoko says. Satoru knows she’s just taking her time to tell him there is no corpse to be buried. You were gone in the wind and once the remnants of your cursed energy faded there’d be nothing left of you but memories and things; they’d collect dust and grief but none would satisfy Satoru.

He doesn’t mind the way they look at him as he unclasps the silver necklace around his neck to slip your ring. It joins Suguru’s button and he finds himself unable to curse the Gods.

Instead, Satoru closes his eyes to pray.

‘ Watch over me, ‘ he pleads.

It lasts no more than a second. His eyes open but they find themselves searching for hair that shines like vinyl and (E/C) coloured eyes that make heaven weep despite what he’s learned.

The best thing he can hope to do now is free Megumi and Tsumiki of their ailments. Then, then...he’ll bury them.

He’ll bury his family.

“Nanami. Is there a body?”

The furrowing of Yuji’s brows make Satoru’s cheek twitch.

“We’ll bury their things then. Side by side.”

There’s a familiar presence next to him. His scent wafted up Satoru’s nose in a way that made his eyes water. He knows him by the way he breathes, the way he walks, the sound of his hair being tied into a bun.

Suguru is beside him.

He doesn’t know how it’s possible that they’re together once again but a quick glance around and he’s quick to figure it out.

Ah.

He wanted to win so badly.

They talk. They talk like nothing has happened. As if the years were mere footnotes in their story like friends reuniting again after some distance.

Behind him, Yū and Kento are sat. They tease and jest. He yells at Principal Yaga about dying with regret, he sees Riko and Misato talking to each other in their own corner of rhe world.

Kento huffs, Kento smiles.

“If you stop flitting your eyes so wildly you’ll find him, Gojo.” Suguru and Yū chuckle at Satoru’s expression. Kento twists his upper half and points to the windows.

“That woman...” Satoru’s eyes widen.

It’s unmistakably your mother. Her hair, her skin, her posture - youthful and healthy. He sees tiny hands clutching to her shoulder, a head of (H/C) peeking from over it and then your eyes blinking sheepishly up at her.

You’re in your mother's arms, a boy once again as she cradles you close to her.

When your eyes meet him, he sees the bashful way they avert themselves and your mother chuckles as she smooths out your hair. Kento hums and Yū tells him to stand, so Kento does.

Your mother’s smile is as warm as it's always been. Puts the damn sun to shame, really. She presses a kiss to your head then sets you down and with inward facing steps, you walk towards Kento.

With each step, you grow and grow and Satoru thinks of how nice it was that you’re spending your youth with Kento for an eternity now.

Because as you stand in front of Kento in your school uniform, with the bright smile you had in those old photographs, he feels his heart soar. The rings clink softly against each other as he leans back and wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder.

Your arms wrap around Kento’s neck and he wraps them around your waist.

“I hope you did not wait long, Ken.” He squeezes you tightly and sighs, “I would wait an eternity for you, my love.”

[calico-cheriies]

Hideaway |Soshiro Hoshina x Reader Fanfic|

{Chapter Four}

{Hideaway Masterlist}

{Masterlist}

♥︎Taglist: @swivi

———————————————————-

Soshiro knew he was going to be fine, it was just minor injuries he sustained. So when he woke up after resting he wasn't really surprised to see that only a few officers came by to check on him, even Captain Ashiro took the time out of her schedule to check on him. It was nice to get some rest after a few days of straight training, yet when his fellow officers left he slumped back against the bed.

Had you really left?

The interaction between you two was short since the doctors and nurses were treating his wounds, yet you did stay with him for that time being. He couldn't help but giddy over hearing your silly stories that did a great job in distracting him, he did take note of everything you liked and disliked, and he wanted more. But all he did was just lean his head back, eyes staring up at the ceiling. He didn't pay any mind to the door sliding open, he assumed it was another officer or even one of the doctors.

But those violet eyes snapped down when he heard the familiar squeak, and he was greeted by the sight of your figure hunched over, (e/c) eyes glancing down at the tray of food that almost spilled over due to your clumsiness. Then they snapped up to meet Hoshina's, you both stared at each other- which apparently now became a norm for the two of you.

"I brought you lunch!" You blurted out as you sped run to his side, the tray with food slightly bouncing with you as you almost bumped into the edge of the bed. You managed to stop, but the aching nervousness that consumed you made you jumpy and even had a few sweat beads growing on your nose from how close you were to him. Hoshina's lips were in little 'o' until he looked over to see the tray in front of his face, then they curved into that goofy smile.

"Well ain' ya sweet," he couldn't help but coo at you as your hands set the tray down on his lap. He enjoyed the visible blush that came over your face as you took your hands back, "You're welcome, I got up early to get you the good stuff of course- I never realized they had so many options when you got up early." You ranted about it as you set a glass of water down by the table side. You seemed a little more comfortable as you took a seat that you pulled up from the previous night, at least you weren't scurrying off like before.

"I'm surprised ya came back... thought I scared ya," he admitted with a small chuckle at the end, you gave your head a tilt and you waved your hand in dismissal. "I'm not scared away by you that easily..." you seemed a little bashful that he thought of you like that- you didn't want to come off as scared or that you didn't want to be around him. "I just... I'm a little awkward I guess," you tried to shrug it off, watching as he ate. You leaned over to grab a napkin and you handed it to him.

That's how it was between the two of you.

There was something so tender that you two shared. Maybe it was the way that Hoshina seemed so relaxed when he spoke to you, or maybe it was the little sparks of interest that you both shared with each other. The awkwardness you had felt was subsiding the more you listened to him talk, and you were getting a little bolder too. Your hand was resting on the rail, your fingertips gently leaning over to hover over his to trace patterns over the air as you commented on his stories.

"Huh? No way- someone had zero percent?..." You hung your mouth open in shock as he told you about this year's new batch of recruits. You knew a little bit about the requirements to show as an officer and you knew they were lowering the standards to get more people in but this was something else...

"A thirty three year old man, but he's funny so I put in a recommendation to have him as an alternate. He's still a cadet," he told you, which made your heart warm, Hoshina was realistic but he was giving a man a chance to prove himself. "Huh... well I'm glad you're putting a little bit of faith in him..." you softly trailed off, your fingertip finally making contact with his hand. You weren't sure of what type of relationship you guys had- but friends was a good place to start for now.

You enjoyed the silence that came over the two of you, your eyes sweeping over to see that his tray lay empty on his lap. You stood up halfway while leaning over to take his tray, "Here, let me take it," you gently grabbed it before placing it on the bedside table. You hadn't realized that Hoshina was gazing into your features, taking in how natural and genuine your smile was, he couldn't stop the dreamy smile he had on his face at the thought of retirement being peaceful like this.

Until the door slid open to reveal the pack of officers that stumbled in, you got so frightened by the noise of officers fighting with each other and you almost fell over the chair. Hoshina's hand had gently grabbed yours before you fell to pull you back, his grip tight as he had a small annoyed smile on his face. "What's the meaning of this?" He spoke up, meanwhile you looked like a deer in headlights as the officers all stood up straight and one girl had shoved a man forward. "Vice Captain! Everyone just wanted to make sure you were alright..." he gulped out, he seemed the oldest of their group so you assumed that was the officer Hoshina was talking about.

The nervous look on his face made you snort quietly, but it didn't go unnoticed by Hoshina, whom got over his annoyance. "At ease," he commanded as the officers relaxed a little, "I'm fine, I should be ready to go in an hour so we'll resume the trainings tomorrow." The way he spoke was different than how he spoke to you, it was stern and rather assertive. But then the officer's eyes went to you, and the way Hoshina was gripping onto your hand- that's where the rumors would start.

You didn't know what to say, they obviously didn't know you and you cleared your throat awkwardly before bowing your head in greeting. "Hello, I'm-" as you were introducing yourself, a choked groan came out of the older one's mouth, "Are you the Vice Captain's wife? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to barge in!" He got down to his knees to apologize. "Eh?! What-" you were too shocked to respond in the appropriate way, "No!" You felt your hands get clammy, which Hoshina felt and you pulled your hand away in embarrassment. "I'm not his wife, I'm the forensic pathologist here. I'm (Y/n) (L/n)," you wiped your hand on the lab coat.

"That's another ten laps ya guys will run tomorrow," Hoshina finally intervened, but instead of being angry he had a small smile on his lips, he wouldn't actually mind if the  misunderstanding was true. He wasn't one for romance at all- but he still gravitated towards the feelings that he naturally got around you. You saw them all groan and argue with each other, and you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from laughing at the ironic situation but you couldn't help yourself and you let out a few laughs, your hand flying up to cover your mouth.

"It's too harsh, Hoshina. They were obviously confused," you softly teased the man, your hand coming up to gently nudge him on the shoulder. "Plus, I don't mind. They just missed their vice captain,"

Oh how smitten he was with you, the twinkle in your eye as you gradually came out of your shell. Hell- you even initiated the teasing this time, and he couldn't help the way his eyes widened slightly, now being the one who couldn't speak up. "Uh- I guess so... but it's still unnecessary," he had that little pout that made his fang poke out with the stern tone he often used, but the officers were quick to notice how he didn't argue when you used his name instead of assigned title. You however, thought that he didn't need to be so uptight at the moment, "No extra laps," you decided to be bolder and you gently pushed some of his front hair away from his eyes, "You all need a break from the kaiju attacks," you pursed your lips in slight disapproval.

"Yes ma'am," Hoshina quickly submitted to your will, and that was something that the officers couldn't believe. "I'll leave you to it, I'm sure you'll be dismissed within the next hour. I have to get back to my reports," you got up and neatly positioned the chair back in its original spot and you fixed up the collar to your lab coat. "Come find me when you're back," you gently waved, walking past the officers and sliding the door closed behind you.

You slumped against the wall and you slapped your face into your hands, your face burning as you overheard the conversations between the officers and Hoshina's small comments. You fanned your face to stop the beads of sweat running down the side of your face while you scurried down to the elevator. You pressed the button in eagerness, already thinking of what would happen once Hoshina was discharged. Would he immediately come see you? Or would he wait..?

The possibilities were endless to you.

You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't notice that you had stepped into the elevator with someone else, your eyes meeting the same one from the officer a few days ago that accompanied Hoshina. What an intense glare she carried on her face...

You muttered a quick apology, awkward shuffling aside and pressing on the lowest button. You both stood there with tension settling over you... but why?

"The vice captain seems attached to you," the woman finally spoke up, earning a confused look from you as the elevator slowly closed its door and made its way down. "We're colleagues," you quickly replied, not elaborating any further as the air got colder, what a scenario...

"For the sake of the Vice Captain, I hope so." The woman was quick to respond. "He doesn't need any distractions currently, the kaiju are appearing more. It would be a shame for him to get attached and be injured like this again," she was looking down with crossed arms, the suit she had one making it more menacing than safe. "So keep it that way," the tone was sharp and clear.

You slowly turned her head to face her, did she just threaten you? "Was that a threat?" You couldn't stop the words from tumbling out, but you cursed yourself for the way your voice quivered, clearly a sign of fear. "Depends if you want it to be, you're not even in the same level as him. You don't understand him the way I do- you're just some helpless freak who cleans the mess up," what a way to word it... but it surely had an effect on you because you just nodded your head in response, you weren't in the position to argue or even fight her on what she said.

"Good, nice talking to you, (L/n)," she had that arrogant smirk on her face as the doors to the elevator opened and you stumbled out, not wanting to look back as you hurried to your office. What would you even do now? You just got threatened by an officer- no doubt one of Hoshina's trusted officers? And for what? You didn't do anything-

Unless...

You were a distraction to him. Or she was some jealous girl that fawned over him but either way you weren't strong enough to tell anyone or fight it. You clearly couldn't tell Hoshina, he probably wouldn't believe you and he would just break off whatever friendship you guys had.

Ah, what a pickle to be in.

{Chapter Five}

—————————————-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: Eye to Eye

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

It’s all a blur. Grey and obscure. You wallow in your reawakened grief until you’re too tired to cry any more. Consciousness isn’t much different than the alternative and when the world comes back into focus, it’s just as confusing as ever. 

The pillow under your head is firm yet warm. You peel your cheek off of Lloyd’s arm and stare down at it groggily. How long has he been there with you? 

His eyes are closed, his chest rises and falls evenly, and he looks for once, at peace. When he’s awake, he is like a wild animal. Always talking, always smirking, indefatigable. Seeing him like this almost makes you think you’re dreaming. 

You groan and sit up. You put your back to him and bend over your lap. You wear the same clothes as before. Your only clothes. Everything is gone. Even you tears. You have nothing left to spend. 

You pull your hands away from your face and grip the edge of the bed. You stare at the window frame, the curtains rich and finely patterned with golden ivy. The walls are pristine as is every other piece in the room. All of it nicer than anything you ever had. But what you had before was priceless. 

The tickle along your back makes you squeak. The bed shifts and Lloyd grumbles, “tootsie, you okay?” He drags his fingertips up your shirt. 

You’re silent. You are not okay. You've been trying for more than a year to be okay. It’s time to accept that you’re not. 

“Hey, you need something? Some water?” He squeezes your shoulder and you wince. 

You shake your head. “I-- I think I should leave.” 

“Leave? What do you—you can’t--” 

“I’ll find somewhere. I did it before. It’s... not your problem, Lloyd,” you murmur. 

He moves across the bed to sit next to you. His slings his arm across your shoulder. “I can’t let you go. Not as your friend--” 

“You don’t have to,” you insist as you twiddle your fingers, shrinking under his thick arm. 

“I want to,” he says. “Look, tootsie roll. I’ve never been a good man. Never been great at the truth. Or emotions. Any of that. You saw that. That day we met. But look, I... you changed me. You helped me. So let me help you.” 

“What?” Your lip trembles as you look at him. “I didn’t--” 

“You did,” he winks, “come on. I was a jackass. And I can still be one. I won’t pretend I’ve repented but you did something. Hell, it’s selfish, ‘specially after everything, but if you go, I’m gonna be a mess.” 

“No, you’re just saying...” you mumble. 

“Hey, I don’t say anything I don’t need to say. Trust me. Alright? You’re twisting my arm here making me pour my heart out but if it keeps you here, safe, well, I’ll just suck up my pride,” he says. “So, it’s up to you but I’m just saying, I don’t mind if you stick around.” 

You stare at him. He’s right, when you met him, he did seem to be a bit of a jerk. Since then, he’s been... better. More so, he’s been there. 

You look down and think. It feels worse to just go. Not only because you don’t know where to go but because you’d just be leaving him after everything he did. He deserves better. He deserves to know. 

“I didn’t tell you something,” you say quietly. 

He leans in, squeezing your arm as he holds you against his side. “Didn’t tell me what?” 

You sniff and rub your nose, “I didn’t... last year, my dad died. We were close and it’s... tough.” You blink against the burn in your eyes. “His ashes were in my apartment. That’s all I had left.” 

He’s quiet. For a long time. You are too. It feels lighter to say it out loud but it also feels real. And he feels tense. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it,” you utter. 

“No...” he clears his throat. “That’s... thanks for telling me. Can’t be easy.” 

He retracts his arm and stands up. He crosses his arms then drops them. He seems restless. 

“You want a coffee? I need a coffee,” he says. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind a tea, if you have it,” you slip over the edge so your toes touch the floor. 

“Take your time, sweetie,” he waves you off, “kitchen’s downstairs. Hook around the banister and it’s the first door behind that.” 

“Right, thanks,” you nod. 

He leaves you. You don’t think he’s upset, maybe he just doesn’t know how to handle that news. Like he said, he’s not good at emotion. Well, you don’t think you are either. 

You inhale and stand. You pad around the room and hug yourself as you go out into the hall. You blanch at the decor. It’s all so nice. Is he really that rich? And he’s been hanging out with you? 

You cringe. He’s seen your apartment. Saw. Oh. It brings back that feeling of when you were a kid. Everyone else had brand new things and you had what would do. You appreciated everything your dad got you but when you’re young, you think those things you matter. You wish he was there so you can tell him how much he did. 

You falter as you get to the stairs. You reach for the railing and begin a slow descent. You’re so weak, you think you might fall if you don’t hold on. You get to the bottom and recall his directions. 

You follow the thrum of the electric kettle into the kitchen. Lloyd intently slides a small metal cup attached to a long wooden handle into a fancy red machine. One of those fancy espresso makers you see in cafes. 

“I have some chamomile or green. I got a gift set a while back but I don’t really do tea,” he explains over his shoulder. 

“That’s fine. Chamomile, please,” you reply. 

“Sit,” he nods toward one of the high seats along the island. “You just take it easy. Let old Lolly take care of you.” 

You climb up and cross your arms over the cold marble. You watch his back. His shirt strains across his broad silhouette, outlining his shoulder blades.  

Looking around and at him, you still wonder, why is he wasting his time on you? All because you were nice enough to pay for a wrap? Has no ever been nice to him before? That thought makes you sad for him. You’ll stay, just a little bit, until you can get back on your feet. 

[midnight-bay-if]

Okay, that ask with MC dying in RO's arms. I can't help but reverse-angst any angsty ask I see, so now I HAVE to.

What if despite the MC seemingly dying, the team managed to call an ambulance and for it to arrive fast enough to like manage to restart their heart and ultimately save them? What I'm mostly interested in in this scenario is how would the ROs act during the period of uncertainty of "will they wake up or not", and when MC finally DOES wake up and is fine (cause well, they could have woken up but with all sort of issues due to the lack of oxygen and what not).

I live for hurt-comfort!

(A little bit of hope can go a long way. Let's do this :D)

S: The wait is excruciating. It's a difficult ask for S to set aside their usual cynicism in favour of a more optimistic approach. In the army, it was customary to carry a letter for loved ones should the worst come to pass. S had to deliver more than a few of those letters. They still carry one themselves out of habit. Preparing for the worst like some paranoid doomsayer has become their second skin.

But just this once, they don't want to believe in the worst. They don't want to prepare to break bad news to loved ones, nor imagine the empty space you could leave behind. Perhaps your inability to give up has rubbed off on them. It's a quality of yours they are counting on right now.

Then, the doctor exits the room and smiles, and S knows that their uncommon hope has not been blind after all. You don't wake immediately, but S guards your bedside the entire time. It feels like a lifetime, but when your eyes finally wake, it takes all their strength not to immediately pull you into an air-restricting embrace.

Instead, they grasp your hand in theirs, clutching it tightly against their chest with misty eyes. When you finally speak their name, the tears finally spill freely.

"Thank goodness," they whisper, grasping your hands as if in prayer. I don't know what I would have done if..." They breathe. Deeply. "I fear a very long lecture is teasing the tip of my tongue, but I will do everyone a favour and keep myself gracious instead. Something to look forward to, my darling."

They smile.

Rain: It’s impossible to sit still. Plagued thoughts of pained screams and bloodied hands keep them pacing the length of the waiting room. The others are here too, but for once, Rain doesn’t have enough space inside their head for everyone else.

The pattern sound of their pacing steps keeps them grounded. It’s something else to focus on... because otherwise, the alternative is remembering every sordid detail of what happened to you, and that is too bloody unbearable.

How could they let this happen to you? Are they truly resigned to a life of regret forevermore? Regret was already a heavy enough weight for them to carry as is.

Then, the doctor spills the good news, and Rain rushes into your room, shaking. They didn't think they had tears left to cry, yet they fall freely once more. Red-faced with puffy eyes, they collapse onto their knees beside your bed, tucking their face into the crook of your arm... Honestly, they would be embarrassed if they weren't so happy.

"Perhaps we should consider retirement," they offer once their tears have ceased and they can force a smirk back on their face. "We could settle down by the ocean far away from Albach Bay and grow old together under a canopy of stars. Or we could get on a boat and become pirates. Mind you, the mermaids might pose a threat... Hm, I'll workshop it."

They are only half joking.

Taj: It's easier to be angry. So, as Taj watches the doctors and nurses rushing around as they busy themselves with their work, Taj seethes. They still taste the metal tang of blood in their mouth from the assailant whose throat they ripped out. It taunts them.

'You were too slow', it goads. 'You have always been too slow.'

Taj growls, subconsciously scratching at their own skin as they dig their nails into their arms. Their aggravation must permeate throughout the waiting room because the staff are giving them a wide berth. Sometimes, they'll spot a nurse giving them a pitying look and Taj will dig their claws in deeper.

It's all they can do to prevent clawing at their throats.

They don't understand. Taj has fought tooth and nail to find 'home'. S and Rain came along and provided shelter, but they found a home in you.

Taj would flay the skin of every potential threat before losing that.

All that anger, all that pent-up rage, begins to finally trickle away when the doctors give the good news. It still exists—it's still there—but it softens, as does the self-flagellation.

At your bedside, they wait. When your eyes flicker open, and you whisper their name, they finally breathe. "I always knew you were annoying, Koel, but I never pegged you as cruel."

Pouting, they grasp your hand in theirs and hold it delicately up against their lips. "Thank you," they gasp, barely breathing. "For not leaving me."

N: N is losing what little patience they actually have. It feels like days since they absconded away with you, and there has been no news since. What in Hael do they do here? There may or may not have already been a few incidents of cornering medical staff in a somewhat threatening manner to demand they prioritise you above all others.

It's not like there is anyone of greater importance in this hospital. N knows that to be true, even without knowing who the other patients are.

It's too tempting... to want to reach out to the dark recesses of your mind and pull you back, but then fear takes over. What if they reach out and you aren't there? What if they scream into the void, and all they hear is their echo? It would ruin them.

So, they wait and wait, and finally learn what it means to be patient.

When the doctors, still maintaining a cautious distance, finally break the news N has been so desperately hoping for, N breaks. They rush into the room, practically tripping over their feet in their haste. For a moment, they forget all about their image as a Prince of Hael and choose, instead, to embrace one simple truth; they care.

"Do try not to die in the future, my dear. I would be awfully put out if you did."

Umbra: If it weren't for the others, Umbra would be burning through the very heart of themselves to skulk, watch, and stand vigil in your room as the doctors worked. But it was S who rightfully pointed out that if you were to wake and Umbra had become less of themselves in the meantime, it would only bring you more heartache.

So, instead, they continue to practice trust. They are choosing to trust in your strength, in your stubbornness, in your desire to live. Even as their instinct to fight scratches at the back of their skull, they choose to believe instead. It's hard and getting harder.

Umbra knows if it weren't for the others, they would have already stormed your hospital room with savagery.

When the doctors finally release Umbra from their torment and share the good news of your stability, it's all they can do before Umbra is at your side. God grant mercy to the person who attempts to remove them from that point on.

Overwhelmed with emotion and with their fear no longer gripping their throat, they daringly climb onto the bed next to you. With hushed apologies, they gently rest their head atop yours, listening to you breathe.

"I never noticed before," they whisper, breath shuddering. "You breathe so deeply."

(I'm sorry sorry this took so long! I wanted to do it justice since it feels like a short sequel, lol. It's been a busy few days since we rescued a cat from a family member who had to move house. I may or may not be using them as inspiration for Taj, haha.)

[spotlightlowlife]

manipulating the audience hazbin a helluva easy feat

I will stop these titles one day

Anyone notice how Lucifer behaved a chauvinistic dude bro when faced with Adam, made worse that he was in the presence of his daughter.

So did Lucifer cheat on Lilith?

Or was this yet another sugar sugardaddy x sugarbaby power x pov exchange only with the inclusion of the most liberal woman ever?

Adam didn't initiate the gotcha girl and gotcha girl again mockery and gave no impression of caring about this, why was this the only thing Lucifer had to rub in his face? Adam would actually go on to open up about his envy of the sinners not appreciating him for being their ancestor.

Lucifer simply thinks sinners suck and agrees to the exterminations happening.

He is welcome to be smug.

This is just fine.

This franchise has a pattern of this, it gives the impression that this is intentional knowing full well that along as the audience backs the right horse, they can do no wrong, insert anything anywhere and loyalty or silence prevails.

We witness Angeldust, after persistently S harrassing Husk opening up about how he isn't as comfortable or confident about the world he's in. We see for ourselves that as sex positive as he tries to portray, he's nowhere near in control.

We then in a later episode witness Sir Pentious get SA as a gag, made worse that he was inebriated but still managed to do nothing but resist. This same episode Angeldust gets a serious scene standing up to his S predator.

Valentino is the prominent sexual predator of these stories, because Angledust is unhappy.

Elsewhere his royal, prehistoric 'good twin', Ozzie the prince of lust isn't to blame for the sexdolls he puts out of his lover Fizzoroli, the prince of greedy who shows no interest in sex outside of adding it to a checklist of things that sell is to blame, we are abruptly told this and guided to accept it because 'cute ship', even though that ship has moved into not so fun sugardaddy x sugarbaby territory, edging towards that of the awkward transactionship of powerful, bored prince Stolas and reluctant, disadvantaged little imp Blitzø, a predatory setup that's ok because both characters get the positive spotlight and Blitzø benefits and doesn't behave like a textbook victim.

Pentious didn't and did...

Stolas backstory is very significant, there is no sex positivity with his character, he was forced into a betrothal when he was a little child, forced into marriage as a teenager and made to have a child. His elders are to be honoured.

Who else found themselves in this exact same situation? Stella. They have an identical backstory.

Notice how, simply by switching some known characters around, Mammon and Fizz's interactions were a diluted spin on Blitzø and Moxxie? Fizz has a whole life away from Mammon, whose pageants chooses to compete in yearly, joint venture merchandise he promotes and phone calls he takes. He has a lover, a palace to roam around in and a day job. Blitzø works full time with Moxxie, breaks into his home, voyers on Moxxie and his wife, follows them on dates and has screwed their mutual ex for that reason.

Both Mammon and Blitzø push Fizz and Moxxie into work when they don't want to, however we have no evidence of Fizz always being reluctant, on the contrary we once saw him look forward to going to pageant rehearsal. Unlike Fizz however, Moxxie has shown open resistance to doing things in the form of crippling fear, reason and angry argument, it all makes no difference. Mammon commented on Fizz appearing to have gained weight however fat jokes aimed at Moxxie have been plentiful, something Blitzø has partook in.

The tone is that Mammon is the villain because Fizz is sad, Fizz who had not been shown to be another Moxxie previously but when it come time for him to be a victim, he was places into a Blitzø Moxxie relationship which this time around wasn't funny.

The tone alternatively is that Blitzø is eccentric, excusable and a fun lead to follow and Moxxie is the punching bag.

Notice how striker is a "supremisist" for wanting to bring down those at the top but it's perfectly ok for Blitzø to kill nobodies like himself.

elsewhere it's ok for Alastor to do the same to those like him with the reluctan support of Charlie who's goal it is to save these people.

Despite there existing an actual cannibal town, pimps and selling of souls being something she is acutely aware of, we are swayed to take Charlie's side as she sits in a position of power with her select besties at her hotel, that may have hard dr ugs on the premises, doing very little outreach even though we see community among extras, who does deals with literal lesser devils, in a world her dad created, her dad who allows exterminators to deal with who he sees as nuisances but she sees as 'family' and there's no conflict of interests, who do we see as the black and white baddies from day one? The angels.

Those who don't even sit at the top or know how things work to be specific.

Not Vaggie though.

Your favs are allowed to be dbags too, it doesn't make you reprehensible to see this and still like them!

[felassan]

Thoughts on the DA:TV Companion Concept Art:

General

I love that we saw these and I think the art is beautiful!! it's so cool seeing different versions of a character, different ideas for a character, and how things translated from concept arts into the character models in the game. I can't waaait to look through the rest of The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard, with a fine-toothed comb!!

each character has iconic color palettes and iconic shapes and stuff :)

I feel like there is a lot to examine in these pictures, even with the spoilery text redacted!! 🔍🔍

I'm so extremely curious about what the redacted text says. 👁️

It looks like the geometric patterns drawn behind the characters are slightly different each time?

In the ones where multiple different outfits are shown for the character, do you suppose that these are only discarded concept ideas, or are some similar to some of the alternate outfits for the companions that we can find or upgrade for them in the game?

in some of the pages, there appears to be additional parts of the page blanked out/redacted rather than just the paragraph of text. I wonder if there are small text captions or even additional small drawings in those spaces that also needed to be redacted for spoiler reasons 👁️

In some of the sections below I just described what part of the art I was referring to, in others I popped in images because I was finding it hard to describe what I meant ^^

Also, the associated tweet mentions the BioWare Gear Store-exclusive variant of the artbook. The link in it just takes you to the general Gear Store website landing page at the moment. At the moment, the BioWare Gear Store variant of the artbook is out of stock (it went out of stock really quickly after release). However, CM Violet mentioned in the Discord that "We are planning on another printing [of the Gear Store variant of the art book], but no date yet! I'm sure we'll announce it when we have more news!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

Bellara

Bellara's page is the only one I think with no name. did her name have to be redacted too bc of a spoilery reason?

I LOVE Bellara's pages. she's just so 🥺 (clenching my fist). some aspects of the design of Bellara's clothes remind me of butterflies or butterfly wings.

Left: the angle of this one reminds me of her party icon art. Center: this one shows a different design concept for her vallaslin. in this one she also has different earrings. in the full version of this drawing, it looks like she is holding some kind of tool in her hand (makes sense considering her Tinker ability), while in her other hand it's a piece of cloth, reminding me of the way mechanics are sometimes drawn holding rags during their work. her posture in the full version of this drawing is like 'You can fit sooo many triangles inside this bad boy [the giant elf head artifact/sculpture]'. hhh. Right: can anyone make out what the text above her bag says? ^^ btw, this bag design is so cute. edit: thankyou to @squidaped-oyt who mentioned in the replies of this post that this looks like it says "Foldable map"! more on that here.

HELLO??, this ancient elven sculpture/artifact thing is extremely 👀. the scale of it compared to Bellara is massive. there are beams of light coming from its eyes and the triangle set in its forehead. the triangular parts are a now-familiar aspect of ancient elven magic-tech and artifacts. the nose bridge reminds me of the design of elven nose bridges circa Dragon Age II - only he has a pointed part on his in addition. the bald head we're all familiar with from ancient elven statues, in-world murals/wall paintings etc. is it just me, or are the teeth also pointy? I wonder what this thing is.. was it just decorative (a head of a giant statue)? (this kind of thing in this Veil Jumper/Arlathan Forest concept art comes to mind). was it an art piece representative of a particular Evanuris or one of their chosen? or did it have some kind of actual function - maybe it was part of a giant protective automaton kinda thing? what this head really reminds me of is Codex Entry: Vir Dirthara: Signs of Victory -

The pages of this book—memory?—describe a monument made in a single afternoon by a thousand-thousand toiling servants swarming over a lump of fallen stone as large as a collapsed mountain. By the end of the day, the stern figure of Elgar'nan stares down into a valley, carved out from the foothills of the rock. The slaves have disappeared. Light radiates from the eidolon's narrowed eyes and its open, snarling mouth. "Hail Elgar'nan, first among the gods! Mark his victory eternal!"

Could this be [part of] one of those sorts of monuments/eidolons? It sure looks like it's snarling through its open mouth. And it has narrowed eyes and light is radiating from them.

The other things it reminds me of are: 1. the ancient elven sentinels (the magic-bot kind, not the Abelas and crew in Temple of Mythal kind), two. like maybe it's a giant one of these. 2. these big ancient elven hands and the Dead Hand landmark (see Trivia section) in DA:I, which is found in the Dales and contains an elven shrine and is not far from Ghilan'nain’s Grove.

Horace Medford wrote of that landmark,

"The great stone hand was something of a mystery. One assumes it is a piece broken off from a larger whole. If so, judging by the size of that one hand, I imagine the entire sculpture to be... well, large enough to require the use of obscenities to describe it. Thus I have only one question: where is the rest of the statue? It is difficult to imagine how something so large could go missing."

like maybe the head from Bellara's concept is the giant head to a similar kind of pair of giant hands (of either type).

(^ post which discusses these both here)

Left: the way this bracelet thing is worn gives it the impression of a watch, which is cool and fits her machinist/inventor kinda vibe/aesthetic :) Center: the cloth, a bit dirty from active use (what a thoughtful touch), tucked into her belt :) Right: I love the eyepiece/monocle look!! It's giving Artificer, it's giving gadgets. does anyone else think Bellara and Dagna would get on super well? 💜

These are all super interesting and I love that they were thinking about the different parts of Bellara's kit and belongings like this. in the top row, it looks like the book on the left is the closed version of the book on the right. Bellara's book full of research notes :D what I wouldn't give to browse through it!! I love how she's filled it with different bookmarks, it gives you an insight into her mind and the way it works. on the front is one of those ancient elven golden faces (like on Solas' armor's knees in Trespasser, on the Sentinels in the Temple of Mythal, on the ancient elven Deluxe edition of DA:TV armors, etc). inside, it looks like she has pressed a flower, which is so lovely. on the right-hand page, I'm really curious about the drawings there. what is it of? a map, a diagram? it reminds me a bit of the map of Arlathan Forest in the Veil Jumper issue of Dragon Age: The Missing (and it would make sense for her to have a map, Arlathan Forest is changeable lately). and if you squint, maybe that's an 'X marks the spot'? also extremely curious is the drawing on the left-hand side of the page:

Who is this depicting? the figure's headshape/headpiece/mask reminds me a lot of the Evanuris headshapes. and the general vibe of the drawing reminds me of the ancient elven Evanuris mosaics (example). Sylaise-y? but maybe it's not an Evanuris and it's more like a figure from Bellara's past? the way the flower is pressed on this page makes it look tender, like memory. or if it was an Evanuris, it makes it look like an offering or token. perhaps Bellara's vallaslin correspond to Sylaise or whichever member it is. there was a time before the gods came back the way they did in DA:TV.

It's also really cool to get a look at the fold-out material thing. do you think she usually carries this rolled up at her belt or in her bag? it looks like somewhere where she stores various kinds of ancient elven triangle fragments, or maybe it's even some kind of strange map. A map of a bunch of different reality-fragmented Veil Bubbles or something would look really strange no doubt, not like a normal map.. edit: more on that here.

Davrin

It's neat to see different hairstyle versions of Davrin! the shape of the blue sword reminds me just a lil of Starfang, which is really nice. and we saw Davrin with a griffon-wing shield like there is in these concepts in the character reveal trailer.

Comparisons of the various vallaslin designs he has in his concept arts to the final one in the game. (in some of the concepts, his vallaslin look a bit bluer, which reminds me of his tarot-style art from the party selection screen). though, in the right-most version, it looks more kind of like a circlet, a Samara Mass Effect-type situation instead :)

This on his heel is totally a spur. makes sense, for a Warden that may one day be a griffon-rider like the Grey Wardens of old :') (at least in the sense of visual language, like "spur - riding - horse - griffon").

We see Davrin equipped with an additional dagger/shortsword like this in the warrior gameplay video, albeit not this specific one, if you go by the handles.

He maybe has some stubble here. ^^

In this version of Davrin, it looks like he has a staff. (though, he still has a sword here too). Is it a polearm kinda deal, or was there a time during development when Davrin was a mage? perhaps the elf in this concept art is a version of Davrin? that elf is wielding a staff to fight, and there are some similar aspects in the outfit designs, like the considerable collar.

interestingly, his staff here reminded me of the staff held by the elven figure on the front of the DA Vinyl art. 🤔

^ Looking at that staff-Davrin concept more generally, it's interesting that this version has more overtly Grey Wardenny-parts to his armor compared to his final look, like the griffon symbol on the chestplate and shoulder.

This Davrin holds out his arm, like a falconer. in Dalish culture, the hawk is a sacred animal of the Huntress Andruil.

And this Davrin straight up is a falconer. how cool!! due to image resolution I'm not sure if the darker parts on the raptor are parts of its plumage or accoutrements, but in falconry, the birds sometimes do wear these types of accoutrements. Falconer Davrin Concept reminds me of that one DA:I Dorian concept art where Dorian had a monkey haha. :D the attention to detail in Falconer Davrin is neat too, you can see that on the hawk-perch arm he has a thick extra cover on his arm, due to the sharpness of raptor talons and grip. I really love Falconer Davrin's griffon shoulderplate, and when looking at the more geometric diamond design of his vallaslin here, what struck me was its resemblance to the diamond geometric pattern behind him.

Harding

Harding is the only one on the concept art among the named characters there who is listed as her surname rather than her given name haha. she's just Harding just like Hawke is Hawke, that's just the way it is.

The flower and leaf pattern in the top left is cute, I wonder if it was inspiration for the flower and leaf stitching Harding has on the collar of her casual clothes in the game. In the concept art it looks like the kind of design that you might have on the leatherwork on the front cover of a beautiful leatherbound journal or something. :) In the central picture she's holding and appreciating a blue flower, which is so cute ♡ and which ties to what was said about her loving plants, raising plants, and nature. she has what looks like the Inquisition hairy eyeball symbol on her belt pouch as well as on her knee pads. (;;) the version of her to the left of that shows her with her hair down, in a more pony-tail like sort of style. on that version of her, you can see flower and leaf floral patterns curling up the bottom of her cape. (very pretty).

To the right of the central image, there's a big diagonal blank rectangle of content which has been removed, presumably due to spoiler reasons. Was this also text? It seems like a weird angle to have placed text at. Maybe it's a drawing of an object of some kind being hidden? A different version of her bow perhaps? (this is the case in a few of the companion concept arts btw.)

The tailored coat and pinstripe pants version of her is so cool. :D look at the tails on the back of her coat in that image. dapper. Harding formal wear? :D

of course, the two most !! images from Harding's one are these ones. copying over my thoughts from that post,

Presumably this is to do with Harding’s new magical stoney earthy powers. (In the second image, along with the bow, it looks like half her face, part of her neck and her arm itself is also stone/crystal). The glass-like shiny parts reminds me of quartz or something. :)

I do wonder if (if they are still things in the game) perhaps those two images or the stoney parts of them could also potentially have done with being redacted for spoiler reasons? how I wish the Harding image was higher resolution so we could take a closer look at stone-Harding..! somewhere off in the distance, Varric "haha, you'd be Harding in Hightown" Tethras is like "haha, Harding, you're hard/hardening" hhhh. 💀

In the image with her hood up, the blue veins on the bow remind me of blue lyrium veins. I also wonder, is she holding the stone/crystal bow with her stone/crystal arm, or is the bow simply growing from the arm? does the hard surface of her body when it's like this repel or take less damage owing to its hardness? is this something she might be able to do in gameplay later on as her story (and powers) progress?

it stands to reason that if you can turn other people/things to stone, as she did to some ghouls in the release date reveal trailer, you might also be able to extend this power to yourself. presumably this ability is tied to the Titans, the dwarves as their children, the Stone, maybe a restored (in Harding's case) connection to that, the way dwarves used to be. it also reminds me of how golems are created using live dwarves. Caridin said "It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, as flexible and clever as any soldier." 👀

Btw, speaking of Harding's magical powers, I wonder if Harding dreams at night now..?

Lucanis

it looks like there's a spot on Lucanis' page other than the text at the top that is blanked out/redacted. I wonder what it contained.

part of the geometric designs behind him reminds me of his eyes motif.

some of the alternate outfits for him look really like, majestic. in the one with the manbun, he has big poufy shoulder pieces and huge sleeves.

I wonder if any concept art of clean-shaven Lucanis exists anywhere? ^^ I'm really curious about what he looks like clean-shaven, or without a beard as he was in The Wigmaker Job.

I'm losing my mind at all the different concept ideas for Lucanis' hair, especially the one with the curled forelock and LUCANIS MANBUN omg. but I like his feathery mullet that he has in the game the best. :D

The design and coloring of his sword is just so COOL. The oil-like iridescence, purple-black, is like corvid feathers.

What a lovely sketch, lovely pencilwork. ◕‿◕ his eyebrow is slightly raised and you can see here again that his nose is slightly 'crooked' (perhaps he's broken it in the past?). I love this sort of feature sm in every character that has it.

In this one his eyes are doing the glowing purple thing again. again he is not defeating the possessed/dead/abomination/-somethingelserelatedorsimilar-is-going-on with him allegations. this one has a hood in an Assassin's Creed sorta style and the general vibe is like a ninja. the shoulder pieces look feathery, and the cloak/coat looks like feathered wings or tailfeathers. this piece feels the most "The Demon of Vyrantium" in vibe hh 👁️ And are you guys seeing this?? Here it looks like has claws like Wolverine hh!! :D though he could simply also be holding multiple knives in between his fingers (of the sort you can see at his belt in another concept, I've put that one just below here to show them), or have a bladed gauntlet, etc.

This person coming at you in the night, no wonder the evil Venatori magisters are scared of him :)

Coffee, no doubt :) cool mug shape.

Bird design again on this leg-piece.

Left: a take on the now-iconic Antivan Crow bird-masks. really cool design. here it's giving Batman, it's giving masquerade ball. I really hope we see him wearing a Crow bird mask of this sort at some point during the game!! 🧎🕯️🧎 it's a big missed opportunity if not imo hh. Right: Lighthouse casual-wear, or something very close to it. his vibe in this art is also similar to his vibe in the Lighthouse group shot.

Veilguard symbol on his chest? some of the alternate outfits include a more Veilguardy purple to them, and this one reminds me of how the Veilguard symbol looks for Rook here for example.

Lastly, in this main one, his general shape is sooo triangular. :D and his face/expression here really captures this description of him from Tevinter Nights:

Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.

In this one I also get the sense of dark circles under his eyes, which is a trait that in fiction reminds me of coffee-drinkers. ^^

Emmrich

Both staffs in Emmrich's concept art are different to the one we see him with here, but the bigger one on the concept art is close to it.

In this concept it looks like Emmrich has a scar on his chin.

Left: without his jacket on, he looks so svelte. the gold parts on his boots/knees remind me of the gold headpieces fixed to walking dead in the Necropolis. they are also hexagonal in shape, which I've become convinced is part of Nevarra's visual design language (and therefore part of Nevarran architecture, fashion/culture etc. :D he has so many bracelets and rings. Center: he looks so happy here and in the one next to it! these versions of Emmrich seem to lean more to the purple side of his color palette. these ones have a sorta futuristic vibe. you can see some of the tools of his trade at his belt, and it's a different version of his staff. here the skull floats at the top of the staff and burns with green fire, rather than being fixed to the pole of the staff. Right: Emmrich with big hair! quiff-like, and it looks like a large part of it is white rather than gray.

in this alternate outfit he's wearing a work apron with tools of his trade on the front. he's holding a glass flask that is filled with green liquid and billowing green smoke. I wonder if Emmrich is skilled at alchemy? do you think he has a lab, or that his room in the Lighthouse might be filled with stuff like alembics?

Looking again at Emmrich's outfit in these arts - from the back, the back of his coat reminds me of depictions in art and tv/film of the blood eagle?? (if you are sensitive or squeamish to gore and things of that nature, please don't google that!). the lines on the back of his shoulders remind me of musculature. The repeating pieces down the center of the bottom part of his coat reminds me of a spine. and the back of his gold belt-piece from behind straight up looks like a pelvis. the skeleton and body imagery here is an amazing art direction/symbolism for him!! what a bigbrain idea. is that sort of detailing why the design of the front of his coat looks like someone's chest has been opened on an operating table?

also, the long coat reminds me of labcoats. :)

I wonder if the bracelets and things are a Nevarran cultural thing/common fashion in Nevarra, or more of just an Emmrich thing? ^^

lastly his expression in the one on the right is so gentle and kind.

Neve

There are two spots on Neve's page other than the text at the top that are blanked out/redacted. I wonder what they contained.

I love that they tried out differing concept/designs for the look of Neve's leg, and what looks like a stand for it as well. they're all really neat and you can see serpentine aspects in all of them. a person could also have more than one.

this image contains another great reference for Neve's wand-cane thing. here the orb in the middle looks like a big pearl, like from inside a mollusk. the ring around it is definitely evoking the body of a snake coiling.

The concept art contains a blond version of Neve. because of her ice powers, it reminds me a bit of Emma Frost (Marvel). look at that Neve's heeled boot, and the size of her hat!!

I prefer the Neve they decided to go with in the end. ♡♡ ^^

Taash

oh my goooood. breathing in and out rapidly into a paper bag. oh my godd. she looks sooo cool!! I'm posting the whole thing again here just bc omggg.

Most versions of Taash have the green crystal horn. her concept arts show versions with different skin colors. her eyes in some of them look green. I love all her different-version Lord of Fortune / Rivaini gold pieces. in the top-left hand version of her, her bigger shoulder-piece is really cool (the right-hand side one); it could at once be a piece of spiky dragon bone or a piece of a big spiky sea-shell (both ideas work perfectly for her character and background). I've said this before when talking about Taash's design, but I love the parrot-break design of one of her weapons. it's very piratey. in this page, we can see several different versions of the parrot-beak weapon. also, I love all her different facial expressions.

in the right-most Taash concept, the dragon tooth-like pointy bits on her gauntlets look like they're made out of gold, not tooth. her big piratey boots are so cool and they even have a gold coin on them! you can see the spike braided into the end of her ponytail, and in that drawing the dragonscale-looking parts of her iconic armor look even more scaley, owing to the way they graduate from a full covering of scales to a partial covering to not present (in a way that reminds of how on some fantasy arts of things like dragons, there can be softer/less protected areas of their hide with no or less scales, like towards their undersides):

The bottom-left most illustration looks like it might be her iconic armor, only seen from the back, which is good to have a reference of. the design of her sword scabbard is cool, it's like the segmented flat of a dragon or sea-serpent's tail. in that image it also looks like the eye of her parrot-weapon is matched by an eye on the scabbard. something about the designs of her sword and scabbard remind me of weapons like daos. from behind, it also looks like her gauntlets might have thicker armor on one-side, better protection for the upper side of her forearms. the fingers of her gauntlets also look taloned, in a way that reminds me of Fenris.

Okay now let's talk about the concept in the center at the top! this version has longer horns and more spikes in her ponytail, in fact the ponytail here looks like a dragon tail as a result. it reminds me of Flemeth's dragony hair from Dragon Age II onwards. this version also looks like she may have blue-ish facial tattoos, or it could be vitaar. it also looks like she may have a second, smaller set of horns. in this version, the red ropes are cyan-blue instead, and she not only has the spikes/teeth on her gauntlets, but also on her boots (knee 'pad' and the heel, like spurs). in this version, her swords are dragon wing-shaped, which is pretty metal. I can't tell if the triangular piece that hangs down in the center is from the front piece of her clothing or the back piece, but it gives the impression of a dragon tail.

Lastly, the concept in the center at the bottom: here her boots remind me a lot of Dragon Age II Isabela, who is of course, also a piratey type of character from Rivain. the giant axe here is cool, the shape of its blade also evokes the shape of a dragon wing and it looks like the handle might be made of bone. the way she's carrying the axe here reminds me a bit of how Iron Bull carries his weapon in this art piece. the teal and gold color scheme of this piece reminds me of the gold and blue/green of some Ancient Egyptian things, and round her neck it looks like she is wearing a torc.

[doctor-dusk]

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 (𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛) | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

a blurb of part 3 from prof!alex/mr. turner series.

warnings: prof!alex, age gap (not mentioned), sexual incitement. really, that's all.

word count: 1k

posting because i've been feeling pretty anxious lately (idk why but i'm fine, promise), soon part 3 will be among us. hope you like this little preview :3

[...] you felt like you were in the middle of a test. your restless eyes alternated between his face and your laptop screen, the scanned document with words you spent hours writing were now being meticulously analyzed by your teacher. not just any teacher. your favorite teacher.

he read each word carefully, as if at that moment, he wanted to enter your mind to follow your line of reasoning. his hand rested on his chin briefly, the thin beard tickling the palm of his hand.

his eyes moved to the drafts spread out on the table before his eyes, gathering them in one hand and reading them cautiously. he never actually said it to you directly, but he loved your writing. not only that, he loved your handwriting. even with the mistakes you scribbled and wrote the right word afterwards. 

he thought it was cute. sometimes your words were faster than your thoughts. just like him. 

you tried not to be nervous, but it was impossible. like it or not, he was your teacher. you were just a student, you were taking your first steps, while he already knew this kind of subject backwards and forwards.

the fact that you didn't know what he was thinking made you even more nervous. his face was too impassive. did he like it? did he hate it? will he compliment you? will he give you some advice to improve?

this uncertainty made you try to dispel your nervousness somehow, looking around the empty library downstairs as you drummed your fingers on the skin of your thigh impatiently and deliberately.

he glanced at you, noticing your internal struggle. his right hand reached yours, stilling your tapping fingers. his hand covered yours, but his touch was gentle, reassuring. 

“it's ok, darlin’. i'm almost done.” he muttered to you, his eyes still on your words marked with black ink, but completely aware of your anxiety.

his thumb traced the back of your hand in a soothing gesture, drawing invisible circles on your skin. it calmed you down somehow, but it still made you nervous. but in a good way. 

your teacher's hand remained there, tracing imaginary patterns on your skin, making you feel at ease, as if you didn't want to be without his comforting touch. his other fingers consequently rested on your thigh, gently caressing, following what his thumb did with the back of your hand.

you glanced at his hand, noticing the veins marking his skin like a canvas, the long fingers resting there, making small caressing movements. the same fingers that were inside you days ago. god, you were already feverish just thinking about it and remembering the feeling of his digits scissoring inside you, stretching you as his lips were wrapped around your clit, sucking it like it was his favorite candy.

“you okay there?” he asked quietly, breaking you out of your reverie. you just nodded, humming in agreement, hoping your face didn't give too much away. “do you want me to keep going?”

“the reading?" you asked. he chuckled, his face scrunched a bit, making the little wrinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

“no.” he moved his hand away from yours, so he could finally feel the warm skin of your inner thigh beneath his palm. 

he waited to see if you would back down. but you did the opposite. you opened your legs a bit more, inviting him to go further. you wanted his touch, his voice, his eyes on you. you wanted it all.

his fingers followed the path through your upper leg, touching the inside of your thighs, looking at you to catch any signs of discomfort, what there wasn't. you never had any doubts when it came to him. you always wanted everything he could give you.

the path to reach the bottom of your skirt was calm and torturous. your toes curled inside your black ballet flats, his closeness made your shoulders gently touch, the soft material of his shirt brushing against your bare arm.

‘’good?’’ he whispered to you, his index finger gently brushing against the material of your lace panties. he couldn't help it, even though you were open with him, showing no signs of discomfort, he still wanted to make sure you were on the same page.

you couldn't lie. although you were enjoying it, you were a little scared. you were in the library that was empty, but still, someone could show up at any moment. it was dangerous, but a part of you wouldn't let him stop. maybe it was the thrill.

you nodded, your fingers reaching for the hem of your skirt, pulling it up just enough so he could see what color your panties were. they were gray with black details on the edges. it made him smile internally because he was also wearing gray boxers. you were unintentionally matching.

when he was almost touching you to feel your heat and wetness through the fabric of your panties, something stopped him. someone.

‘’mr. turner, i found the copy of the book you asked for. it's a little old, but it'll do the job.’’ the librarian's voice so close made him immediately retract his fingers in the blink of an eye, he straightened his posture and looked at her. thank god the round table covered you from your belly down.

‘’lovely. thank you, mrs. gillian.’’ he smiled politely, taking the book from her hand and placing it on the desk, acting so naturally that even he was surprised.

she excused herself with a nod, the sound of her sandals against the porcelain floor fading as she walked away. you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might escape your mouth if you weren't clenching your throat so tightly.

‘’fuck, that was close.’’ he muttered, more to himself than to you. then, he looked back at you, an apologetic look on his face. ‘’i'm sorry, honey. she just appeared out of nowhere.’’

‘’it's okay, there was no way you could have known.’’ you tilted your head to the side, your shoulders still brushing against each other.

he nodded slightly, his eyes falling to his lap, his hard length squeezed by the confines of his pants and boxers to the point of being painful. your gaze followed his, and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight.

‘’you know…’’ he began after a silent throat clearing, his gaze gently lifting to meet yours, eyes filled with anticipation. ‘’there's no one upstairs.’’ [...]

to be continued...

[hollowsart]

@president-alpine I know you intended this for my sideblog and more for a general Doc Ock & Mysterio.. but this is all I could think to answer it, I hope you don't mind?

Anyways, here's my Beck working together with my Otto to create a new "Doc Ock costume". It was Beck's idea to try and spice up his look lol It's comfortable and practical and has a bit of octopus motifs if you look closely!

+ two alternative colorations. Beck got a little carried away

Otto does prefer simple, practical, and comfortable. He's not really a glitz and glamor type. And while he doesn't exactly see why he would really need a new outfit when his old one works just fine, Beck insisted he make something for him.

Beck couldn't help himself but add the extra pizzazz of textures/patterns into the costume, but he toned them down a bit so it's not too much. He wanted to really tap into Otto's "Doc Ock" title and add octopus elements, but Otto thought it'd be too much. The results are what they finally settled on!

[riddles-n-games]

Let It Hurt

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: A rewrite of Ch. 54 in the first book. Alternate take post first kiss at the Wayback Cottage where Avery is more angsty and doesn't let Jameson go that easy. Length: Moderate Story Type: Rewrite

ANNOUCEMENT: I'm starting a tag list. If you want to be included, comment down below! Also, to access my TIG master list of fics, here's the link to the expanded view of my blog: riddles-n-games.tumblr.com. Click the icon Hawthorne Vault, that's where you'll find hidden treasure.

A/N: Hi guys! I'm sooo excited to be posting this one. It's been a long time in drafts and I was lost with how to continue it but I just know I really wanted Avery to be hurt but accidentally didn't try hard enough to make Jameson stop kissing her again. This gets deeper in their feelings and so it kinda makes Jameson sound like he's his THL self but still in line with his TIG self as well. Enjoy!

Kissing him felt like fire. He wasn't soft or sweet, the way he had been while washing away the blood and dirt. I didn't need soft or sweet. This was exactly what I needed.

    Maybe I could be what he needed, too. Maybe this didn’t have to be a bad idea. Maybe the complications were worth it.

    He pulled back from the kiss, his lips only an inch away from mine. “I always knew you were special.”

    I felt his breath on my face. I felt every last one of those words. I’d never thought of myself as special. I’d been invisible for so long. Wallpaper. Even after I’d become the biggest story in the world, it had never really felt like anyone was paying attention to me. The real me.

    “We’re so close now,” Jameson murmured. “I can feel it.” There was an energy in his voice, like the buzzing of a neon light. “Someone obviously didn’t want us looking at that tree.”

    What? 

    He went to kiss me again, cupping my cheek in his hand and with my heart sinking, I sadly wasn’t fast enough to turn my head away as his mouth connected with mine. I couldn't stop the lone tear that slid down my face. The shock of his words only started to hit me then and I wished it didn’t hurt so much but it did, even as I subconsciously reciprocated the kiss. 

    For a moment, I tried to will the hurt away, to pretend that this was what it was like to get kissed by a boy that liked me. I hated that his body felt snug against me and how it felt right. We didn’t actually like each other in that way, he just needed me to solve his grandfather’s last mystery and then I’d be discarded. I was no Emily but then, I never would want to be her anyway. 

    She was a life lesson of what not to be; a spoiled little girl who was more trouble than she was worth, got everything she wanted and got away with anything. Even if something was most definitely her fault, somehow everyone else was responsible. Well, the princess fell from the tower at some point. But even though I was tired of being associated with a dead girl that was six feet below the ground in a grave, I was continuously being dealt that card to no avail.

    The biggest irony of all was that I was in the house where her presence was most felt, like the ghost of her was overhead, hovering behind me, following my every move. 

    When he pulled away, I pushed at his chest and turned on my heel, trying to put as much distance between us. Hearing him grunt in surprise was only the tiniest bit satisfying as I made my way back to the room. There was some muffled mumbling that sounded an awful lot like “deserved that” but even so I didn’t care.

    I stopped at the beds and looked from one to the other. Which was hers? As I took in every fine detail of the quilt, my hand subconsciously went to my chest, ghosting over the pattern of the wound. I was in a dead girl’s room. I was almost killed tonight. There had been wood in my chest, there could have been a bullet buried there instead. Jameson could have been hurt or killed; if the bullet had ricocheted, it easily could have hit him. 

    Both of us could have come out of this very differently if it weren’t for those “hadn’t beens”. But Jameson didn’t seem to see it that way. No, because he was busy thinking about a tree. Anger flared inside me at the reminder. I understood he had laser focus but I thought he had room for a little bit of empathy and logic. 

    My mind shot to alertness when I heard nearby shuffling until I realized it was coming from the bathroom and heard him step into the bedroom. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes trained on the bedpost in front of me, not letting myself look up when I knew he was right behind me. He sighed softly. 

    “Heiress?” I didn’t reply. Another sigh. “Look, I know I came off as in-

    “I could’ve been shot.” 

    “Pardon? I didn’t-”

    “I said I could’ve been shot.” I spun around, catching him blink in surprise. “Shot, Jameson. Do you know what that means?” I stared at him sharply for a long moment before he looked aside, something like guilt or shame evident on his face. “I just inherited your family’s stupidly big fortune which made me a target of basically everyone related to you and anyone else in the world that made me their problem. I could have been killed. You could have been. Don’t you get that?”

    He looked up again and tilted his head, giving me a small wry smile. “Don’t worry about me, Heiress. A bullet still wouldn’t stop me.” My jaw dropped; he was still attempting humor. 

     “A-Are you being serious right now? Do you hear yourself?” He stayed silent. “Oren just pulled a chunk of wood out of my chest and if things had worked out a little differently, he could have been pulling out a bullet. Same goes for you. And meanwhile you’re over here thinking about a damn tree? This mystery, us running around acting like we’re Mystery Inc, you figuring out why your grandfather chose me, it’s all meaningless to you if I die. And if you got shot, your family would be out for me, we both know that much. And then what? Not everything is a game, Hawthorne.”

    “Perhaps you’re right but that’s just it, MG. If Emily taught me anything, it’s that everything is a game. Even this.” I was about ready to throttle him. But I withheld and rolled my eyes, laughing anxiously instead. “Jameson, get real. Emily’s dead, I almost died, your grandfather is dead, you’re not one of the heirs, your family hates me, the inheritance is not in the rightful hands, and now someone is after me. This is reality for me and you right now. This isn’t in your head. Life comes with risk, I know, but this isn’t a game.” 

    That elicited a reaction. His jaw got tight and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I know that Heiress? Unfortunately, my grandfather raised us treating everything like a damn game from the moment we could talk and think. Don’t pretend you even know the beginning of my life story, we’d be here all day.”

    “And I’m not. But you are acting like what just happened is something to push aside. Newsflash, it can’t be. I can get you pretending that covering me with yourself in the woods, cleaning my wound, our kiss doesn’t matter but not my life or yours being on the line for some stupid mystery. That’s all I ask.” That’s when it hit me. “Why do you act like that? Like you don’t matter?”

    I caught the panic in his eyes when they widened for a brief second as he turned away from me and ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. He’d been doing that a lot. After a long pause he spoke. “Because I’ve done worse. There’s a lot of things from my past that I’m not proud of. Things with Gray, things with Emily, things with Xan and Nash, the old man…” I put a hand on his shoulder. He side-eyed me and smirked knowingly. “If you’re expecting for this to turn into a confession, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

    This time I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t. I don’t expect you to say anything you’re not comfortable sharing. But Jameson? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, don’t be so hard on yourself for that.” 

    He turned his head toward me fully and the smirk turned into his signature crooked grin. “Don’t pity me, Heiress. Self loathing is a very good look for me.” But I saw the sadness in his eyes and something about it gave me a hollow feeling, like he’d been holding it in for so long. Yet that didn’t last either. “I know what you’re thinking and contrary to what you believe, I deserve it. Call it my role in the family.” 

    My hand slid from his shoulder and swiped at the mussy hairs stuck to my forehead. Then, I sidestepped him to pace around the room. I wasn’t sure how much more beating around the bush I could take.

    “I thought that was my thing,” he said. I glared at him in passing. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

    “Can you just let me think in silence for a second? I mean, would it kill you to stop making everything a joke?”

    “Hey, this wasn’t ever going to be a pity party, Heiress. Not my style. I’ve been honest about that mu-”

    “Stop it! Just… stop.” I walked over to him and took his hands in mine. “Look at me, Jameson.” He did, surprisingly. I lowered my voice and spoke gently. “I know you’re not okay. I know you’re sad. You have been for a long time. It’s caused you deep pain, I’ve felt that way, too.” I felt him go very still and for a long minute, he was quiet. 

    He exhaled shakily and his eyes were averted. There was the rawness again. “I’m not very good at this, Avery. I’m terrible at hurting.”

    Avery. He said my name; that’s when I knew he meant it. I let go of his hands and cupped his face in mine which made him meet my gaze. I felt like crying just seeing his misery. “I know you are. You can take all the time you need. But you can’t fix the issue by avoiding it.”

    Jameson inhaled sharply and rose to his full height, shaking his head again and went to stand against the wall. “I can’t. I’m sorry but I can’t.” His voice had gone so quiet, I could barely hear him. I followed after him and while I stopped just far enough that he had some space, I still reached an arm out and placed my hand on his back. He flinched slightly but didn’t tell me to move it and I didn’t retract either.

    “Look, I’m sorry that this might be pushing you too far.” He didn’t say anything. “You can be mad at me like I am at you for tonight but in truth, I think you’re just mad at yourself.” His head tilted to my side and I saw his mouth open but I plowed on. “You don’t have to tell me anything about your past. You don’t have to clarify. We can pretend everything else is a game. But not this. You matter Jameson and hate me for telling you that but that’s something you’ll have to eventually admit to yourself. It doesn’t have to be out loud with anyone around. It just has to be you admitting to yourself that you matter because you do.”

    “I-”

    “And I know this sounds worse but there are people who care about you: your brothers, your Nan, your aunt, I think, and you know, I’d even say me. You matter to me, Jameson. I may not know too much about you but I know a bleeding heart when I see one, especially one who hates themselves. I’ve been there myself, Libby too.” That’s when I heard the broken laugh. 

    “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

    I shook my head. “Nope, why do you think I’m still here?” He turned around and leaned on the wall, eyes red and hair covering his right eye but he was smiling that crooked smile. It was raw and edgy but it looked good on him.

    My stomach did a little flip flop. Stop it, now’s not the time. I stepped closer to him, swiping at the forelock but when I pulled my arm back, he gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me to him. I shuffled forward a little more till I was practically leaning on him and his other hand went to my hip. The hand that was entwined with his was resting on his chest and it seemed like he was mindlessly rubbing circles into the back of my hand, as if distracting himself. We stayed in silence for a few minutes which seemed to stretch into an hour. Finally, Jameson spoke up.

    “Listen, Heiress, I owe you an-”

    “I forgive you.” 

    He shook his head. “Nuh-uh-uh. Not so fast. You got to give your little speech without interruptions. Now that I am in the mood to talk, you want to interrupt? Tsk-tsk.” I arched an eyebrow at him and he simply winked. His voice lowered, “I’m warning you though, this might be a shitty apology.” Oh, I’m prepared for that. But I didn’t say that out loud, just nodded and waited for him to continue. 

    “Hmmm-ahh. Hah, I’m already failing this. I’m sorry for what happened back there and here. I know it was serious and could’ve been bad news for both of us.” He looked to my wound and brought a thumb over it, air tracing it but hovered so close to my skin that I could practically feel his touch. “I was worried about you, still am.” Then through his teeth I heard him mutter something more softly. It sounded something along the lines of “Maybe-something-always.” but I couldn’t be sure.

    “That wound could have been fatal and I am angry we didn’t spare that but it doesn’t change the fact you’re still here kicking. Avery, if there’s anything I can give you full credit for, it’s your tenacity. I admire that a lot.” I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “About the tree thing, um, that’s how I learned to push away all the bad stuff, by focusing on the next clue. Those Saturday games helped me learn to focus on one thing even when there was something in the back of my mind. And to your final point; you are right. If I got shot or died, Nash would find a way to bring me back just so he could whoop my ass.”

    I smirked at the last bit. “I’m sure he would. I could try to protect you, though.”

    “Heh, you can try. But I wasn’t wrong when I said this was a game.”

    “Jameson…”

    “Hear me out. This is a game, a dangerous one and because of the risks and stakes, this,” he pointed to my wound, “is exactly what can happen. People will be out for you, more now than ever. But, if you still want to find out why my grandfather chose you, then the reward is considered higher than the risk. However, that’s up to you. And I can go back myself because I know these grounds.” He stared at me intently and I knew what he implied with the unspoken words. He wants me safe. The feeling warmed me but turned to ice shards because I knew he still wanted to risk himself.

    I shook my head. “Jameson, you were with me. I don’t know if that person was potentially after you too. I don’t want you to risk yourself.” What if the bullet strikes its mark this time? I leaned my head against his chest but he didn’t let me be that way for long. He cupped the back of my head and made me look up at him.

    “Do you trust me?”

    “No.” He smiled.

    “Good. But do you trust that we’re a good team?” I bit my lip but nodded in the end. “I can take worse risks, Heiress, and I found ways out of shadier spots. I’ll look through the security logs to find a safe path to the tree, I can promise you that much. Also, tell Oren to block that fireplace entrance in your room.” I nodded frantically. Then, he whispered the quietest I ever heard him. “I know you don’t have reason to trust any of us but me and my brothers don’t have anything against you even though Gray was acting like you’re a conwom-,” I snorted while he briefly smirked but quickly turned serious again, “If there’s anything good the old man taught us it was loyalty to each other no matter the circumstance.”

    I nodded again for what felt like the hundredth time. Then, I carefully wrapped my arms around his upper torso and hugged him, burying my head into his shoulder. His went to the small of my back and I felt him rubbing circles into my shirt like earlier. “Thank you, that means a lot. I still think you’re an idiot for wanting to do this but I won’t stop you. I’ll even distract Oren.” 

    “Great, does that mean I can kiss you again?” I pulled away from him immediately and raised an eyebrow in question. He was smiling cheekily and winked. But his eyes held that same intensity when he was focused and were tempting me. Well? Will you? Before I could think twice, I pulled him down by his hoodie strings and pressed my lips to his hard. Jameson had no trouble catching on and he lifted me up by the thighs, letting me wrap my legs around his waist before readjusting his arms to my back. I also curled my arm around his shoulder and clutched the fabric of his hoodie at his shoulder blade. It was a deep kiss but it was sweet. Ok, so a bit sweet isn’t bad. 

    When we parted, I was panting but he wasn’t. What a shocker. Instead, he was observing my face and I could imagine what he saw; the cuts, raw and red, scratches from the bark. Before I could ask anything, he leaned close and pressed soft kisses to each one. I closed my eyes. When he kissed my forehead last and he pulled back, I opened them again to find him smiling softly at me. It made me smile too and I didn’t hesitate to lean forward again to give him a light kiss in thanks. 

    Unfortunately, at that same moment a hushed gasp came from the hall.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that. See you next time. Also, I'm updating my master list of fics so the last few including this one will be there for you.

[mimisplayground]

Captain Price, Brat Tamer Extraordinaire

tags: brat taming, spanking, thorough prep, ALL ACTIVELY CONSENTED TO, however.., power imbalance, hinted at poly!141, KINDA a free use kink BUT NOT EXPLICITLY, aftercare at its finest, dumbifcation (dick got you stupid), open to ghost sequel :3, power difference but the hot way, he calls you love and sweetie, you call him sir and his rank while hes fucking you so…

uuuhhhh i just REALLY want that old british man…

—————-

Price was an authortive man. He was firm when he spoke and he didn’t take arguments to his orders.

So when the cute little mouthy cadet glares at him and tells him to fuck off, he almost wants to be mad. He acts mad, his voice booming in your face and blood flowing to his dick when he watches you continue to glare even as tears well in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering as you do what your told. Grumbling under your breath.

This becomes a pattern. You listen well for a few days, longest he’s clocked you behaving was a week. Finally you start to get a bit mouthy and him or one of the others end up having to get loud with you to get you acting right. Though he would never forget the time he watched you roll your eyes at Ghost when he had just yelled at you. And he doesn’t think he could get the look of your face crying while Ghost has a hand wrapped around it with your cheeks smushed together out of his mind either.

Certainly not when it’s the main thing he thinks of recently when he’s got his hand wrapped tight around his own dick.

You were a crybaby. An awfully pretty one. But you were a fucking brat, and it left Price stuck with being incredibly turned on and pissed everytime he had a feeling it was gonna be another day where you wanted to run your mouth.

So he was surprised when one day, walking past the room where the men changed, he heard Soap snickering about how he wished he could fuck you, see how long you kept mouthing back. Not surprised at the statement, Price knew the others wanted to get their hands on you. But surprised at how much he himself seemed to contemplate the idea.

Which was what led to you being led into his office when you had next mouthed off. Months of your attitude had worn on him, and when you had told him to “fuck off and shove it up his own ass”, he had quickly and quietly made it clear that he expected you to follow him to his office. You stood there in front of his desk with your arms crossed, tapping your foot and huffing often.

Price stared you down for a moment. “I’m sick of your attitude.” He had practically snarled out. Watching you shift awkwardly, as if the annoyance was fading into worry. “And I think it’s time we take care of it.” Price finished off calmly. It left you nervous, he could tell. He sat down, and he waved his hand for you to come closer.

“I’m not gonna force you. If you say no it’s fine, and you’ll run 20 laps.” He saw you shudder at that. It was by no means a small track. And he knew you had only ever done 10 at the most. But it was the alternative and equal punishment he had picked for if you declined him now. “If you don’t want to do that, you’ll lay across my lap.” He finished, watching to gauge your reaction.

He saw you contemplate. “I want you to know that neither is the easy way out. Your attitude problem will be fixed when Im done with you, one way or another.” You huffed.

“Gonna spank me like you’re my dad or some shit?” You sassed at him, nodding in consent and yelping when he tugs you down and across his lap. “Yea love, that’s the plan.” He laughs slightly as he yanks your uniform pants down, happy he caught you in a moment where you didn’t have the full uniform on and he didn’t have to worry about the padding and belt. Yanking your underwear down with the pants and staring at your ass for a moment.

“Perv.” You mumbled out, yelping when a harsh, sharp smack landed on your behind. You squirmed, and Price kept a hand firm on your back. His hand raised and dropped down again quickly, 5 more smacks coming in succession.

He had never been known for being light with his hands, and it was showing in the discoloration of your behind. You were squirming around, complaining loudly. “You’re a fucking dick! I hate you, you’re awful!” You had been screaming it out practically, and his anger spiked at the idea that someone could be outside thinking he was allowing you to speak to him like that.

“Enough!” He boomed out, the harshest smack he had delivered so far landing right where your thigh and ass met. You yelped harshly and quieted down quickly. You both sat in silence for a moment, Price trying desperately to will away the blood rushing to his cock.

With another blow he had hit the other side in the exact same spot, eliciting a choked noise. He knew he had hit a sensitive spot. You remained quiet, hoping it would grant you mercy.

“Apologize now, and I’ll consider stopping. Want to hear you beg, sweet thing.” He had demanded, watching you profusely shake your head no at his order. “That’s too bad,” he sighs, rubbing your behind softly before pinching a bruise and hearing your whimper “I would’ve even been nice to you after if you listened the first time.”

His assault quickly picked back up, now focusing on the sensitive back of your thighs. He listens to you ramble out pleas of mercy and sobbing out apologies. After a good ten hits he had stopped again, not before pinching the soft spot he had just spanked raw and bruised and listen to your whimper.

You whine and cry, mumbling out apologies that has him sighing and moving you up so you’re sat gently on his lap as he hugs you and soothes your back as you cry and squirm away from where your ass meets his rough pants. He had hugged you to show comfort, but also to hide how flushed his face had gotten listening to your cries and whines.

He really couldn’t hide the bulge in his pants much though, and he full blown jolted when he heard your cries quiet down and felt your hand brush against the bulge. He leans back in his chair, quirking a brow up at your attempt at puppy eyes with him. “Lemme make it up to you…” you mumble out, fiddling with the waistband of his pants and tugging at his shirt to untuck it.

Price stares at you for a moment, sighing before he picks you up and sets you on his desk, grinning slightly at the groan you let out from the soreness of your bottom. He grins harder when you hears your grumble at the fact that he grinned. He unbuckles his belt quickly and yanks it down, and he can’t help but feel pride swell at the squeak you let out before shuffling away.

“It won’t fit,” you said, with so much resolve that Price was almost inclined to believe you. Instead he let out a loud laugh and grabbed your calf, lifting it up gently and watching you hesitantly lean back to lay on his desk. He massages your leg gently, all the way to your upper thigh before quickly giving the other leg the same gentle treatment. “Promise I’ll be gentle preparing you, we’re through most of the punishment part anyways, love.” He has your leg grasped in his hand, pulling it over and leaving a kiss on your ankle. “If you’re ok with it?”

And god grant you mercy, why did a grown man, your Captain no less, have to be so weirdly cute with the way he tilted his head as he asked the question. You stare at him for a moment, and he grins softly when you nod yes to him. He leans over, arms caging you down and leaving kisses all over your face. One of his hands runs down your body, reaching between your legs and toying with your most sensitive spots.

He plays with you until you’re putty underneath him. Gentle and just firm enough to leave you twitching and teetering the edge of release with your brain reduced practically to goo. He’s so composed as he does it too, an arm keeping you pinned so you can’t buck your hips up and his body blocking you from being able to squirm away. Stuck at his mercy and babbling incoherent nonsense and begs.

The hand finally goes further down and the tears coming from your eyes at this point are from ecstasy. A single finger prods at your entrance, and he wishes he could he felt bad about spitting into his own hand to lube it up to push the first digit inside of you with the mix of your arousal to help. But from the way your shuddering and pushing down on his finger, he would argue that you probably didn’t mind much. He was gentle with adding another finger as well, scissoring you open and listening to your loud groans.

He had gotten to three fingers quickly, stretching and thrusting them before you finally managed to cut through your own incoherency. “Please, Captain, Sir, anything, whatever you wan’ me to call you just please,” he was almost impressed with how you drew out the please into a whine, “put it in. Wan’ you in me, now Sir, please.”

That was really the only coherent thought and sentence you seemed able to string together right now. At least thats what Price would guess from the way you went back to your mumbles and moans. So he sighed and kissed at your tears as he pulled his fingers out and lined himself up, pushing in slow and firmly.

By the time he was all the way in he had to stop and give himself a moment to catch his breath. “So tight love, grippin’ me tight.” He was groaning, lifting your legs over his shoulders and into a mating press. He listened to your begs for him to move, to mess up your insides real nice. After a few moments he listened to those pleas.

He thrusts hard, snapping his hips up and stopping after he hears you squeal “It hurts!” He leans down, kissing your tears again. “Need me to stop? Don’ wan’ to hurt you love,” he kisses your lips as you pout.

It takes everything in you to pull a full thought together and even more to get it out. “Hurts where you spanked me…” you groan out, whining when he laughs and pinches a bit at the spot. “Want me to-“ hes cut off at your quick shaking of your head and a small “don’ stop.”

“Whatever you want love, call it part of the punishment.” He leaves another kiss on your lips and goes back to harsh thrusts that leave you screaming and gasping for air under him. He’s firm and rough, but the absolute perfect pace that leaves you downright shaking.

And when his hand comes down to play with your sensitive spots again as he thrusts, you feel the knot inside of you tighten and snap as your eyes roll back and your body arches up off the table and into Price. He holds onto you tight, continuing his thrusts harshly as you twitch under him, your hands reaching up and petting his hair as if to let him know to continue.

“Wan’ cum inside sweetie, can I? Please love…” he groans as you nod yes into his neck and with a final harsh thrust he feels the knot in his own stomach burst as he cums deep inside of you.

You both lay there for a moment, panting harshly with sweat all of the both of you. You look a mess, tear streaks down your face and drool from your mouth. And Price looks up at you questioningly after you giggling when he leaves a kiss on his shoulder.

“Your mustache tickles.” You say with a small smile, and he smiles back before leaning down to kiss you. He picks you up, opening a door to his private room -and straight to the bathroom- setting you down on the toilet.

You sigh in relief when he picks you up and sinks you both into the bathtub. You squirm a bit at the sting of warm bath water on your sore ass, and he kisses the back of your neck as he gets to work washing the both of you.

Price has you sleep in his room, and finds himself snickering for the next week when he catches you opting to stand when able. And holding back almost full laughter when you’re forced to sit at meetings or in vehicles as you squirm around.

And when he hears that your attitude is getting bad with the others again when you’re so sweet and almost obedient in front of him, Price shrugs and tells them to figure it out.

When he walks past the training room to see you in a headlock by Ghost while he’s clearly whispering something mean in your ear (if your tears are anything to go by), hes got a feeling your attitude will be getting a lot better for all of them soon.

————

left it open for a sequel for da cod hoes

PLS HYPE THIS UP MY OLD MAN DESERVES IT. and guys this was like, almost entirely self indulgent so… sowwy :p (pls ignore any typos guys… i literally have no beta reader its just me, my whims, and my prozac getting us through these fanfics)

again, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! SEND IN ASKS!! I WILL GET TO THEM!! im running out of ideas guys pls send asks and requests…