#and when i said i understand from a certain pov...

[just-bible-musings]

As a Christian, I don't believe in abortion. BUT. I can actually understand it from a certain pov.

I would argue that the obvious solution is to go back to teaching abstinence before marriage (along with a lot of other unpopular topics). But not only is that extremely unlikely to happen anytime soon (which makes me sad), that won't help the women of the current age who WEREN'T taught that and don't see why they shouldn't be allowed to have sex whenever or with whoever they want.

So... the BEST option right now is that the church NEEDS TO DO IT'S FRIKKIN' JOB! Sheltering these women and supporting them and their children. And that includes getting them AWAY from their wifebeating husbands and bf's (and their parents too in many cases!).

The whole Christian church takes an attitude of "you made your bed now lie in it." Jesus NEVER said that.

To the woman taken in adultery (John 8:1-11), Jesus said only "go and sin no more"- AFTER telling off every single one of the Pharisees arguing to stone her. And Jesus only brought up the woman at the well's past (John 4) because He could see that it was plaguing her and He wanted to heal her from it. The end of the conversation went something like this (I'm paraphrasing):

"Bring your husband here and we'll talk more." "Yeah, um, I don't have a husband." "I know. You've had 5 husbands before and now you're living with a guy that you're not married to." "Huh? How did you know-? Whatever... the Messiah is coming someday, maybe He can explain a few things." "Ma'am, you're talking to Him."

The woman's response was to run back to town and tell people, "I found the Messiah! He told me everything I ever did, He HAS to be the Christ!" (Again, paraphrasing, not quoting.) Leading me to conclude that Jesus only mentioned the woman's past because it was how He intended to lead her to faith in Him.

This is how we're supposed to treat people. We're supposed to LOVE them and TAKE THEM IN, not leave them somewhere to die. Educating them on how to conduct their lives better can come AFTER we've made sure they freaking SURVIVE!!!

I have to wonder if maybe a lot more women would be less likely to get an abortion if they thought they had any other option.

The number one cause of death in pregnant women is murder. Think About That.

[ode2rin]

It's painfully evident to anyone with two working eyes that Reo likes you.

Reo excels in almost anything, except hiding his devastatingly pathetic pining towards you. It's etched across his face, woven into his body language, and discernible even in his speech. It's embarrassing to the point that even someone as detached and inattentive as Nagi can discern it from a mile away.

Well, it’s not that hard to tell when Reo looks at you as though you've adorned the night sky with every sparkling star.

Nagi sometimes wonders if Reo even knows it himself. You weren’t any better too, always so oblivious of the lovesick fool fawning at everything you do — yet stealing glances when you’re certain the purple-haired isn’t looking.

Nagi had become an inadvertent witness to countless moments, each one screaming of the unspoken connection between you and Reo. From stolen glances across the classroom, where your eyes would meet, sparking a silent understanding, to the subtle brush of hands as you passed each other notes.

Watching you both tiptoe around your feelings is painful, especially considering that the two of you are the closest things Nagi has to friends. 

Maybe some minor intervention wouldn’t be a hassle, Nagi reasoned. 

“I like you, Y/N,” and so, he falsely confesses, purposely doing so while Reo stands just a few steps behind you.

Nagi observes your frozen reaction to his declaration, your bag hanging mid-air, frozen before settling on your shoulders. He notices the widened eyes and slightly agape mouth. Above all, he sees the color drain from Reo's face and the slight twitch of his eye in shock. At least he knows his plan is working.

A moment lingers, and you recover from the shock of his confession, still blissfully oblivious to Reo's presence in the room. “Sei... I-I'm sorry. I like someone else.”

I know, he says in his mind. He doesn’t say anything, prompting you to say more. 

“I’m sorry, Sei. I like Reo.”

And there it goes. 

Realization, relief, and everything in between coloring Reo’s face behind you. Reo has always worn his feelings in his sleeves— too transparent and too obvious.

“I know. I don’t like you,” Nagi admits to you, “I said it because he’s behind you.”

For the second time, you freeze at his words. The urge to turn and confirm or deny his statement tugs at you, but the fear of confronting Nagi's unerring honesty prevails.

Nagi Seishiro never lies unless he admits he does. Lying is too much of an effort, honesty is easier, he reasons.

You weigh your choices. Honestly, you'd rather be the butt of Nagi’s jokes than to face Reo if he’s really behind you. And so, you make your decision. Instead of turning to confront the embodiment of your unrequited feelings, you bolt for the door, leaving the two men to exchange silent glances.

“It's a lie?” Reo's voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” Nagi confirms. “Why aren't you going after them—”

Reo interrupts him with a confession, “I wouldn't know what to do if you liked them, too.”

I know, Nagi thinks again, staring at Reo before shrugging and collecting his belongings from the table.

“It will be a pain, I guess.” he shrugs again before finally turning his back to Reo to leave the classroom.

Suppose it's a good thing— it's a good thing Nagi doesn't wear his feelings on his face like you do, Reo.

Because it will really be a pain, indeed.

note. idk what this is but i present to you: pining reo written in nagi's pov or... i guess it could be more than that 🤷🏻‍♀️ (wrote this back in september pls throw the tomatoes gently)

[restinslices]

Can we take our beautiful boy Smoke's virginity? 🙌🏾

I was thinking of a drabble but you can write this however you find easier ;)

If Tomas has no fans, then I'm dead. No gender is specified and reader is a softie because it's what everyone in this situation deserves. Also POV jumps from his to the readers. This was supposed to be a drabble but then I kept typing :D

Tomas was considered behind when it came to certain life experiences. It wasn't something he was necessarily ashamed of, but it was something he knew was true. His type of life didn't allow him to worry about certain things.

Dating was one of them. He knew that teenagers and young adults were supposed to date and experiment, but he never did. Never dated anyone, never held hands, kissed someone, went beyond that.

That didn't mean he had no desire to.

"Are you sure?" You asked softly, eyes observing his reaction to everything. "We can stop. I won't be upset or anything". The truth was that you wanted him badly, always had and always would. You would've certainly lost track if you had to count the amount of times you daydreamed about having him all to yourself, lips on yours, hips moving in a steady rhythm. But a relationship and sex wasn't a one way street. You wouldn't pressure him to do anything he wasn't comfortable with, even if you would be old and wrinkly by the time he wanted to be inside of you.

Tomas on the other hand felt a sense of nervousness he had never felt before. As bad as it sounds, killing someone was easy. He did it without thinking. Now though, you were depending on him for pleasure. "I'm gonna be incredibly bad at this... " he mumbled.

"That's alright" you said in the same soft tone, hand wrapping around his, which was wrapped around his cock. "Everyone's first time is weird. You'll get better over time. I'll help you".

Your other hand cupped his face, your thumb tracing his cheekbone when you noticed him leaning into your touch. "You can say no whenever and we'll stop. I promise"

"I want this". Nerves and all, he wanted this. Your hand stayed on his, guiding him closer and closer to your entrance, his nerves becoming stronger.

And then his nerves stopped, replaced by something far stronger; pleasure. He felt a chill go down his spine, and he only had the tip in. How long was he expected to last when you felt this good?

He felt equally good to you. Sure, you had been with other men before, but they were smaller. Everything about Tomas was bigger - his dick, his arms, his pecs, his height, everything about him made him better than any man you ever met.

You continued guiding him, making him stretch you around his cock slowly until eventually you could feel his balls pressed against you. And although you wanted him to pound inside of you right then and there, you forced yourself to remain patient. Tonight wasn't just about you. It was about him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to you, taking in how pretty he looked with his lips parted and deep breathes coming in and out of him.

"Wow" was all he could muster when he finally spoke.

"Good wow or bad wow?

"Definitely good- wait. How long am I supposed to last?

"Uhh" how long? Um, long enough? You didn't know if there was an average time, but you knew the chances were low that he'd make it. "Don't worry about lasting long. It's your first time, okay? You'll last however long you last"

He nodded before his lips found yours, muffling both of your gasps as he pulled out, then pushed himself back in. "Was that okay?

"Perfect. Keep doing that" your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close as he began to find his rhythm.

Tomas couldn't understand why he hadn't done this with you before. Well, he understood that he simply wasn't ready before now, but the way you gripped him made him forget all about those previous worries. You were perfect. Stretching you open was almost too easy, but now that he was inside you, your hole held him tightly, letting him feel every bit of you. Every bit of your insides that were made for him.

He didn't know how fucked out he looked. That's what added to your pleasure besides the obvious. He had bit down on his lip to stifle his moans at first, but after some time he just couldn't keep quiet. If he wasn't kissing you, whines were falling out his mouth. Here he was, an assassin with arms bigger than your hands and a heavy cock in between his legs, whining because of how good you felt.

It wasn't one sided. He felt perfect to you aswell. His thick cock stretched you open, his veins rubbing against your insides. You hardly needed to instruct him. His tip always managed to be exactly where you needed it to be.

"I'm-" his sentence was cut off by a choked groan, his eyes squeezing shut as he shot his load inside of you.

You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, soothing him as he came down from his orgasm. "You did really good" you praised in between kisses.

His head fell to the crook of your neck, your fingernails gliding along his scalp and you unwrapping your legs around him. "You didn't cum" you heard him mumble against your neck. Well, you both had known he wouldn't last long

"No big deal. Tonight wasn't about me, it was about you. Did you like it?

"You have to ask?

You chucked, "I just enjoy clear communication"

"Then yes, I liked it". He lifted his head up enough to give you a kiss on the cheek, "should I feel this tired after?

You nodded, then tried to push him off only to feel him swat your hands away. "Wanna fuck you again, just need to breathe. Stay"

Who were you to turn your pretty boy down?

[katakaluptastrophy]

Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

[grandisknight]

zayne: a doctor's companion

summary: A certain healthcare companion finds its way into Linkon City, and a particular doctor is about to discover what it means to say ba-la-la-la-lah.

tags: established relationship, baymax (big hero 6), fluff, canon-complaint, one-shot, medical terms, phone call, gender neutral reader mentioned, mostly zayne's POV, first meetings

word count: 1.8k | (ao3)

notes: inspired by this tweet! also i just love baymax a lot and i think him and zayne would be a cute duo thank you ; including the stanford article i read for the surgery mentioned here! (not necessary for understanding though) (also if i get any med stuff wrong apologies i did my best! i was a girl in stem but not Stem yk)

+ update: the cutest zayne baymax art just dropped everyone say thank you mimi (zaynefied) (i cried)

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

Zayne was sure he had slept well the night before. Had his full eight hours, breakfast accomplished and a handful of kisses from his partner before heading out in his pristine, white coat. The drive to work was the same scenery of Linkon City rushing past, soon parked in his designated lot and tracing a familiar path towards Akso Hospital’s entrance.

So, even with such a practiced routine, how did he end up here? 

“I will scan you now. Please remain in place, Dr. Zayne.”

Zayne raises a hand in an effort to dissuade his unforeseen guest. “That won't be necessary.” But his rejection, in turn, was rejected itself—his brows narrowed at the losing notion.

“But it is. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion.” The robot calmly states, reflecting a similar monotone diction to the doctor. “I was alerted to the need of medical attention,” he continues, plush footsteps along the hardwood floor squeaking as he approaches the seated doctor. "When you said 'Oof.' So, I am here."

That singular oof traced back to the faint murmur under Zayne's breath just minutes ago when pushing through the growing crowd of peering eyes at Baymax's unprecedented presence. An unusual sight for everyday work life, the mysterious yet kind robot drew in the attention of incoming patients and passersby who happened to catch a glimpse. Zayne’s opportune timing and arrival to work hurriedly whisked away the looming inflatable as crowds huddled in growing excitement, geeking and gossiping alike. Most of his efforts thus far were put into escorting the curiously soft giant through the pristine halls and past the doorway of his office without garnering further unwarranted attention.

And currently, Zayne found himself subjected to a consultation by said robot.

“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?” Baymax inquires. A chart of faces ranging in emotion and color flash over his chest in display. At the highest end stood a red expression painted in anguish, and to the lowest was a green facade of serenity.

Quickly, Zayne plainly states his number to mirror his current state. “Zero.”

Baymax stares him down with the abyss of his rather blank eyes wordlessly after receiving the response. In mere seconds, a pixelated, monotone hum with a hint of warmth made its way to Zayne’s ears. “Scan complete. You have sustained no recent injuries. However, your cortisol and neurotransmitter levels indicate that you are experiencing stress.”

No, really? Zayne’s brows and posture straightened then, removing his glasses and setting them aside. He echoes the conclusion, pushing down the unspoken remark with a bite of his tongue. “Stress? Is that so?”

Baymax nods, holding up a singular finger as he continues to reveal his findings. “This can be attributed to, for example, overconsumption of sugary foods or work overload. Have you had any of these two things recently?”

Zayne’s lips purse in thought, remembering the new maple syrup you had doused his pancakes in over an hour ago. ‘I picked this up during an overseas mission and thought you might like it,’ you explained to him, drawing an intricately sticky pattern of hearts atop his breakfast. It was still just syrup—not so much a difference in flavor to a regular one you could find at the nearby supermarket—but he was grateful for the gift nonetheless as he indulged in the sweet treat with you.

“Sugar, yes. Nothing wrong with it when done in moderation.”

Sure, he had a sweet tooth. But had been doing well to maintain a healthy intake of sugary pieces, lest he wanted another round of your ‘scoldings’ and an appointment to the neighboring orthodontist again.

With a slight sigh, he clasps his hands together over the expanse of his desk and continues. As for workload? He was almost always caught up in it, whether it were hands-on procedures or consultations. Today was no exception to the rule.

“And I do have work, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I see. May I make a suggestion?” Baymax asks.

Zayne gives him a curt signal of acknowledgement. “You may.”

“I can assist you with said workload. I am equipped with several modules and sensors that will be of use.”

Zayne contemplates for a moment, curious to the veracity of such a claim. Well, when one forms a hypothesis, the best way to test out the theory was through a designed experiment; and he was ready to do just that. “Alright. Give me just a moment.”

With a couple of speedy taps, Zayne pulls up a recent patient file and gestures for Baymax to approach. As the airy robot bounces into place beside him, Zayne points towards a diagram, a series of numbers and waves indicating observational data. “Here. Based on what you see, can you tell me what surgery this patient underwent?”

Baymax follows the trail of red lines, analyzing quickly in succession. “Their ECG fluctuations are affected by the noraderaline administrations over time. This line,” Baymax points to a blue parallel. “Indicates the oxygen levels throughout the surgery duration.” Calmly, he turns to blink at Zayne. “Diagnosis? The patient underwent a coronary artery bypass grafting procedure.”

Zayne nodded. Each detail was right on par, much to his surprise. “I’m impressed. Your creator must have put a lot of great effort into you.”

“He did. He was wonderful.” Baymax gives a thumbs up in return. “Am I to take it that I have passed your test?”

So he knew, even without having to say anything. “You have,” Zayne confirms with a small smile.

“Here.” Baymax raises his fingers and curls them into a fist, waiting for Zayne to meet him halfway. Slowly, Zayne does just that, meeting the soft plush before it was pulled away and sealed with a robotic tune.

“Ba-la-la-la-lah.”

“Bah… What now?”

“We have completed our first task together. This warrants a celebratory fist bump.” Baymax returns his enclosed fist towards the confused doctor once more. “You must also say it while our fists connect.”

Not finding it in himself to disagree, Zayne repeats the actions from before and adds on with an unsure, “Ba-la-lah.” Slightly strange, though it held a tinge of endearment that reminded him of a certain someone; he suddenly didn’t mind it as much then, shaking his head to himself.

It satisfied Baymax all the same, hand wiggling away before a sound disrupts the next file to be displayed. Zayne’s phone rings then, a custom set of notes indicating there was only one special caller. Your name flashed on his screen, buzzing in patience as his gaze flicked between that and Baymax.

“Do you mind if I take this?”

Baymax blinks. “I do not mind.”

“Thank you.”

With a swipe, Zayne presses his phone to the cup of his ear, voice softening to answer your call. “Good morning. Are you heading out now?”

“Morning! How did you know?” 

Zayne could make out the rustling of keys with the pattern of your footsteps, a light yet amused scoff from him trickling into the receiver. Even if it weren’t for the traces of noise, you usually left around this time and always texted him a new emoji without missing a day. So, of course he knew. You followed up almost immediately with another answer to support your stance. 

“New mission just came in, and it happens to be near Akso. Guess we’ll be seeing each other again pretty soon.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks at the idea. “What requires you to be in the area, exactly?” Zayne’s hazel hues instinctively settle on the black pools of Baymax’s blink, already knowing the answer that you proceeded to relay.

“There was a… Wanderer sighted?” Even over the phone, your voice relayed doubt amidst a warm crackling sound. “Well it’s not exactly one…allegedly. But rather something big, round and white? Tara said it looked like a walking marshmallow,” you chuckled. Well, it’s not like you were wrong, Zayne confirms with another glance.

“Either way, it’s caused an uproar and the Association is sending me to check it out. I’m assuming you already know what it is?”

“I do.” Baymax tilts his head, pointing a finger to himself in quiet curiosity. Zayne raises his own to his mouth, indicating for a secret to be kept as he muses into the call. “And no, not a Wanderer. Stop by my office when you get here and you’ll see.”

“I’ll be there in 15 if traffic is kind to me,” you chirped in reply. He could make out the humming of your motorcycle come to life, indicating the start of your journey. “See you then! Love you.”

“Alright. Love you too. Be safe.”

As the call came to an end, Zayne shifted his gaze to the even shiftier companion before him. Though Baymax couldn’t necessarily smile, the doctor could feel it radiating off of its plush form as he lifted a familiar finger.

“Your pulse and heart rate have quickened greatly. The rate went from 87 beats per minute to 102 in about ten seconds.” Baymax pauses, and a screen with infographics begins to luminate across his chest once more. “Symptoms may include, but are not limited to, your pituitary glands—“

“I’m aware of how hearts work.” Zayne gestures around to their environment, the glimmer of his name tag reflecting the morning sun filtering through the tall windows. “And… everything else.”

He was a cardiac surgeon, first and foremost. His efforts and contributions have earned him plenty of accolades in the field, a testament to his brilliance and especially at a younger age in comparison to his medical peers. But second to none was he also your partner—naturally, his heart would’ve soared regardless. He was aware of the source to his increased palpitations.

“You are also smiling,” Baymax comments. “Does this person make you happy?”

Zayne freezes then, unbeknownst of how the edges of his lips were curled into a gentle grin. His mouth almost straightens, fingertips brushing over them in thought. He lets out a resounding hum in confirmation, looking away bashfully for a brief moment. “Very much so.”

“That is good. Having someone who makes you ‘happy’ will improve your quality of life.” As if sending him his seal of approval, Baymax gives an affirmative fist of encouragement. No sooner did a wrapped lollipop appear between said fist, and he held it towards Zayne in offering. “Here, have a lollipop.”

“Thank you.” Zayne takes the candy in acceptance, wrapper crinkling in removal before a taste of winterberry spreads across his tongue. “Shall we go through another file until a certain someone comes barging in?”

He could already imagine how your grand entrance would play out, and this time, knowingly smiles to himself at the thought.

With an enthusiastic nod, Baymax takes a nearby chair and places it beside Zayne’s own. Deflating slightly to fit the mold, he puffs up once more in preparation.

“I am ready. Let’s work together, Dr. Zayne.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Much (Dean’s POV)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

The OG story is here; it’s the same story, just from Dean’s perspective with a scene of his added in

Things were different now. Dean knew it, but he wasn’t willing to face it.

Ever since Sam had died in his arms, Dean couldn’t look at the world the same way. It was bigger, it was darker, it was scarier—and he was no longer certain he could protect his siblings.

He couldn’t let his nerves affect his relationship with Sam; Sam would call him out on it in a second. But he couldn’t help his sudden overprotectiveness of you.

He didn’t think you’d notice the little things, like bringing you with him any time he left, or going with you any time you left, or generally doing whatever he could to stay as close to you as possible.

“What’s with the shadowing? You’re like a magnet,” was the first thing you said about Dean’s behavior, but he brushed it off with a halfhearted quip about keeping you out of trouble.

He knew he was pushing it when he ignored the usual sleeping arrangements and shared a bed with you, despite it being Sam’s turn, but he couldn’t help it. He found he couldn’t sleep without the sound of your breathing right there, without knowing he could protect you if anything came after you.

But he really took it too far at the store.

He hadn’t meant to freak out on you and run around the store like an idiot the minute he couldn’t see you, but losing sight of you had scared him more than he’d ever admit. He’d turned his back for just a second to grab some pie, and you’d disappeared. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he ran down the aisles searching for you, and even when he found you it didn’t calm down—not until after he knew you were safe.

“Where were you?” He snapped, checking you over carefully; you were, of course, fine.

“I…went to find the bread.” Your face was scrunched up in that concerned look that Dean hated so much.

“You can’t just wander off!” Dean took your shoulders in his hands and shook you, as if to knock some sense into you. “I didn’t know where you were! You can’t do that, understand?”

“Dean—“ you didn’t understand, but Dean needed you to agree.

“Understand?”

“I understand!”

Dean forced himself to let go of you, telling himself that this was nuts, that he was nuts, that you were safe and he needed to stop acting crazy.

“Ok,” Dean breathed, willing himself to calm down. He grabbed the bread from your hands and tossed it in his basket.

“Dean—“

Dean refused to let you start lecturing, or worrying about him.

“Come on, we should go.”

He was glad you didn’t argue as you let him lead you out of the store.

…

It was the first hunt after Sam died. Sam seemed ready for it, but Dean wasn’t. Not just because he didn’t want to take his little brother into danger again, but also because he hated leaving you behind. Anything could happen to you while you were alone in the motel room, and Dean wouldn’t be able to do anything.

You caught Dean staring, and he quickly looked away—he couldn’t meet your eye, you’d read him too easily.

Sam packed his bag of weapons all too quickly, beating Dean out the door. Dean stayed in the doorway, still unwilling to leave you here alone.

“Don’t open the door for anyone,” he said to you. “And just…” what was he supposed to say? He’d done this a hundred times before, so why was it so hard now? “Be safe.”

…

All the breath in Dean’s body left him the moment he laid eyes on the shifter.

It can’t be…

“Y/N?” Dean’s grip on his knife faltered, and for a moment he was frozen.

“Dean, it’s the shifter!” Sam’s voice from behind him spurred Dean into action, but too late. You—no, the shifter—were running at Sam, and Dean had a split-second decision to make.

“No!” Dean jumped in front of his little brother, driving his knife into the shifter’s chest.

It’s a shifter, just a shifter…

That may have been true, but that didn’t change the fact that it was your body that shuttered in pain, your voice that cried out, and your eyes that fogged over and began to shut.

“No no no no…” Dean groaned, dropping to his knees as your body gave out. Dean held your form in his arms, and all he could do was watch as your blood pooled in his hands and your breathing slowed to a crawl.

“De…” Sam’s hand gripped his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not her.”

It’s not her. You know it’s not her.

But knowing it didn’t change anything. Dean still couldn’t find it in himself to abandon the dying creature in his arms that looked up at him with your eyes. He couldn’t help the fear that gripped his heart as he watched those eyes close, and stay closed. He watched your body give one last, shuddering breath, and then stay eerily still.

“Dean.” Sam shook Dean’s shoulder. “Dean c’mon. It’s not her.”

That reminder shook something loose in Dean’s head.

“It saw her.” Dean gulped. “If-if it looked like her, it had to have seen her. What if it—“

“We just saw her, she’s fine,” Sam assured him, but Dean wasn’t listening anymore. He laid your body down gently on the ground before jumping to his feet.

“We need to get to her.” Dean left no room for argument as he rushed for the Impala, trying to ignore the blood soaking his hands and the memory of your life draining out in his arms.

…

Dean broke every speed limit getting back to the motel, and when he reached the room he slammed the door open so hard he was sure it would dent the wall. But he didn’t care.

You had jumped up when the door opened, and now you were standing in the middle of the room—safe. Dean went straight for you, ignoring whatever question you were asking him as he pulled you into his arms and held onto you like a lifeline. The hug wasn’t enough—he felt like he needed to hide you from the world. Dean lifted you into his arms, sitting down on his bed and cradling you against him like he used to do when you were little. He started to rock back and forth, focusing on nothing but your heart beating against him.

Sam was trying to talk to him, but Dean didn’t hear anything until Sam started talking about the shifter.

“Somehow, it must’ve seen you, because it…it looked like…Dean had to—“

The image of your dead body flashed in Dean’s mind, and he tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on your head and lifting his hand to the back of your neck.

He barely heard you assuring Sam that you were ok, that nothing had happened, and soon enough Sam left to shower.

“Dean?” Your voice sounded strained; worried.

“Just don’t go away,” Dean whispered. You couldn’t leave him—he couldn’t take it.

“Dean, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, I’m ok.”

Your words didn’t seem to get through Dean’s fogged mind; not when he still had your blood on his hands.

“I stabbed you through the heart. You—you died in my arms.” Dean tried to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes. You weren’t dead, you weren’t—it was just a shifter, and you were reminding Dean of that just now, though he was barely listening.

“You can’t go away. You can’t do that to me, understand?” Dean pulled you even closer—it was like he couldn’t get you close enough, or safe enough. “I-I can’t lose you the way I lost Sammy. I can’t watch you die, I won’t.”

“That’s what all this was about?” Dean knew you were finally piecing together all his clingy behavior, but when he felt you trying to escape his hold he tensed.

“Don’t go,” he begged. He couldn’t lose you tonight, not again.

“Ok, ok I’m right here, I’m staying. But…but is that why you won’t let me go anywhere alone? You think I’ll…I’ll die like Sammy?”

Dean’s heart caught in his throat. Why did you have to see right through him?

“No, you won’t,” he promised. “Because I won’t let you.”

“Dean, you can’t…you can’t be around me all the time. It’s too much, it’s not healthy.”

Dean’s mind was working overtime. What would he do if you tried to get more space from him? If you didn’t let him protect you? He’d go crazy if he couldn’t protect you.

“You can’t leave. You can’t.” You can’t die like Sammy.

“Dean.” You were moving around now, trying to escape Dean’s grip.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat. Why were you so determined to not let him help? He felt like if he let you go now, he’d lose you forever.

“Please, don’t go, please.”

You can’t leave me, you can’t leave me…

“Dean, we can’t live like this. You’re gonna make yourself sick with worry, and I’m gonna go nuts if you don’t give me some space.”

Dean swallowed, trying to let your words sink in. You were right, he knew it, he’d known it ever since he started to feel this way, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Dean?” You prodded. “Are you hearing me?”

He knew what he had to do. But he couldn’t do it; not tonight.

“Yeah. Ok, I hear you, and I’ll try to do better, but…but can I have tonight?”

“What?”

“Just…” Dean took a deep breath, trying to force his thoughts into words. “Just let me do this tonight, ok? I saw you die, and I-I can’t…”

“Ok.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief when he felt you finally relax into him. He twisted around, laying down so the two of you could get some sleep, but never releasing his hold.

He knew he would have to back off—it was what was right for the both of you.

But for tonight, he couldn’t bear to do anything but listen to your steady heartbeat and feel you breathing in his arms. He needed to know you were safe, and there wasn’t a safer place he could think of than right here in his arms.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[everythingacotarbxm1012]

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 3

Summary - Y/N decides she wants to learn to fly again.

Warnings/Other Notes - This one is in 2nd person pov because the first two chapters were looking at Y/N and Az’s relationship from a source not within their relationship. 2k word chapter- Again, some of these lines/plot points are inspired by, or directly quoted from, ACOMAF. This chapter takes place prior to the first two chapters.

Injury mentioned, though not super graphically. Reader relives/remembers having her wings cut.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Masterlist

✨💫

You could feel the blade cutting into your wings. Tears spilled down your face as you screamed in pain, begging the Mother to make it stop. You were never going to fly again. The one thing that brought you unending joy, your only source of freedom, was being taken away.

“Y/N?”

The edges of your memories blurred. That voice, you recognized that voice.

“Y/N?!”

That sweet, honey-like voice called you. Something in you warmed and the pain lessened. Like you were basking in the sun.

“Y/N!”

You shot up in bed, your legs tangled in the sheets. A cold sweat dripped down your face and that same smooth voice kept saying something, but your mind was still catching up and couldn’t process them, not right now. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and then there were hands cupping your face. Not those smooth hands in the romance novels, but hands with bravery and adventure etched into them. Hands that felt like home. Your eyes shot up to meet a pair of hazel ones. Azriel.

“You’re safe. I’m here, your safe. Your father can’t touch you anymore,” the shadowsinger whispered to you. 

You nodded and leaned forward to wrap your arms around him. He reciprocated. You chased away the nightmare, remembering where you were. I’m here with Azriel. With Cassian, and Rhysand. With Rhys’s mother. Az saved you. Your arms tightened slightly around the shadowsinger, burrying your face into his muscular shoulder. His shadows curled around the both of you. His scent felt like home. The same scent that you had become familiar with every time you fell asleep, the one still lingering in the bedding when you woke up and he was gone off to train, with a promise to come back in time for dinner.

Sharing a bed with the Illyrian didn’t start right away, not on purpose. It just happened one night. Azriel never made it back to his own bed, instead he fell asleep comforting you from the same nightmare. Then it became purposeful, falling asleep and not returning to his own chambers. And one night the shadowsinger didn’t even bother finding his way into his own bed, Az just went straight to yours. You certainly didn’t mind and Rhys’s mother never said anything.

“Azriel?” You asked against his shoulder.

He placed the gentlest kiss to your temple. One that reminded you of a waltz you heard one day in Velaris. “Yes?”

You lifted your eyes to look at Az’s face. “What if I never fly again?” Your chest started heaving again. You broke away from the shadowsinger and looked away. It felt like someone had lit a fire inside you. Not one that someone makes to keep you warm on an incredibly chilly night, but a fire started out of malice, one to kill and destroy.

Azriel’s features became softer, contemplative if that was at all possible. “Impossible…because I’ll teach you.” 

Your eyes shot up to his face. “Are you…certain? Do you not need to train? I don’t—”

“I would spend the rest of my life in that damned cell for you again, Y/N.” He paused. “Don’t think I wouldn’t teach you to fly. Unlike Cass and Rhys I remember learning. Both of them would tell you to just flap your wings. I understand the fears and mental blocks of being older.”

You let out the softest laugh, wiping a drop of sweat from your forehead. “Thank you, Azriel.”

He nodded in his silence, considering something a moment. Az stood from the bed, his pants sitting low on his hips as he disappeared into the washroom and reappeared a few moments later with a damp cloth. “May I?”

You nodded and he gently pressed the cool cloth to your forehead, making the sweat disappear as if it had never happened. His shadows flitted through your hair. Whispering to you. Care. Care. Care.

The shadowsinger tried to call them back, but they had a mind of their own, especially around you. You chuckled lightly. Silly little guys, acting like a bunch of toddlers. When Az decided he had done a sufficient job of wiping your face he pressed another kiss to your forehead before hanging the cloth to dry and returned. 

You were lying down in the bed when he returned. He climbed in next to you before pulling you against him. You both fell asleep and slept soundly for the rest of the night.

The following day you went into Velaris with Rhysand’s mother to run a few errands. Her skills as a seamstress were impressive and she used it as an opportunity to occupy a portion of her time. You stopped at your favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner that evening. You also found a used book on diplomacy that was on sale. Rhys’s mother kindly bought it for you; well maybe more for Azriel’s shadow who seemed desperately intrigued with it. When you returned home, to your surprise, Trouble, More Trouble, and Too Much Trouble, were already there. (Nicknames you had aptly given to Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian.)

Too Much Trouble grinned when he saw you and clapped his brother on the back. “This one here got us kicked out early today for starting not one, not two, but three fights. I mean he looked like death coming to collect souls for the next life. Don’t insult, Y/N!!”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Rhys said, giving a pointed look.

“You weren’t any use, Cassian,” Azriel growled back while shoving his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. Az had a black eye and dried blood along his cheek bone. He didn’t meet your gaze but his shadows happily slithered over to you. Protect, Protect, Protect, they whispered to you. Then you understood the shadows’ need to be near you, hovering. The reason why you had a shadow over your shoulder since Az saved you from your father. A form of protection, something to keep you safe, something to report back to the shadowsinger if you were in danger. 

And that’s exactly what Azriel had done earlier that day. Defended you without remorse. 

You glanced at Cassian who had a bruise on his jaw and then to Rhys who also had a black eye. Rhys’s mother looked far from pleased. “Cassian. Rhysand. Upstairs! Clean yourselves up.” Her gaze turned to the shadowsinger. “Azriel. Sit .” She announced as she put the bags down from your earlier trip to Velaris. 

For all her softness, Rhys’s mother certainly had a sharpness to her not often seen. Rhys and Cass’s wings hung ever so slightly and only for a moment before they shifted again and they disappeared up the stairs. You followed them.

When you got to your room, you opened the book bought earlier that day and began reading on the bed. The sheets still smelled of him, of both of you. The shadow rested on your shoulder, appearing deeply engrossed in the words too. About fifteen minutes later you could hear the shadowsinger coming up the stairs. You knew it was him for the sole reason of his footsteps. You had learned how Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian walked. The heaviness of their feet, the pace.

You could hear Az and Rhys out in the hall. “Your mom wants you,” is all you heard before Rhys is walking downstairs and the shadowsinger is walking into your room. You closed your book to look up at him.

“C’mon.” The shadowsinger stepped towards the small balcony and opened the doors. “You can’t learn to fly in here.”

“What,” you asked him, confused.

“You think I started the third fight for the fun of it?” Azriel asked, offering his hand out to you.

You only gave him a confused look, remaining on the bed.

He walked back towards the bed where you sat reaching for your boots. He knelt down on his knees. “Sure, the moron had it coming. That doesn’t change the fact that fighting with him for a third time got me the afternoon off to teach someone how to fly.”

Your mouth fell agape. “Azriel,” you admonished and a smile came over the shadowsinger’s lips before pulling on your boots. “I am perfectly capable of putting on my shoes, Az.”

He only offered you a hand after he tied them up. You took it before he swept you into his arms. You craved his embrace, more than so many other things. Azriel walked back towards the balcony and shot into the sky.

You never imagined how some people hate this, because Gods this felt good, felt like freedom. It reminded you of your childhood when you flew whenever you could, as if flying up into the sky might take you away from all of your problems. You just hoped the next time you flew it would be on your own wings.

Azriel landed in a clearing, gently placing you down on the ground carefully, to make sure you didn’t fall. “I want you to be careful. If anything hurts too—”

“I promise I’ll tell you,” you said to him with a nod. 

“Is it…is it okay…okay if I touch your wings? For correction I mean? Should it be… necessary?” The shadowsinger asked from behind you, almost nervously. For good reason. The concept of touching someone’s wings without permission, in particular females, was beyond inappropriate. 

You nodded, you could sense the shadowsinger behind you, observing your wings carefully. You could feel his eyes scanning up and down. “Azriel?” You asked quietly.

“I can’t say I am a healer and know the anatomy well, but perhaps we start at the beginning. Test the muscles, the ligaments.”

You nod, something feeling oddly intimate about the moment. You turn to face the shadowsinger whose face had contemplating written all over it.

“Try spreading them and tucking them in,” he said as you faced each other. 

You nodded, spreading your wings as best you could. Mother above you hadn’t actually tried to do this in a while. You grimaced but managed to spread them, pushing them to your full extent, spreading your feet to offer you more balance.

A small smile of pride was clear on Azriel’s face. “Now fold inward.”

You did, slowly, afraid to tear or rip something in your wings. You couldn’t stop the smile when you folded inward with success. 

“Good,” he said with a mild amusement in his eyes. “Try again.”

You spread your wings again, your muscles ached, but that was good. That meant they were there, that meant you had a chance. 

Azriel’s eyes followed the movements, and cauldron boil him if your form wasn’t the most stunning thing he had ever seen. The shadowsinger had to put more concentration into not letting his knees buckle under him than he would like to admit. Beautiful. Stunning. Lovely. Beautiful, stunning. Lovely, his shadows whispered in his ear.

You pulled your wings shut rather than slowly closing them which caused you to lose your balance slightly, falling forward. Azriel reached out to catch you before you could land on the ground with a light amusement in his eyes before he suddenly realized how close in proximity you were to him. 

You’d been this close before. By the Gods, you shared a bed every night, but something felt different. You gently rest your hands against the shadowsinger’s chest in silence. 

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands shifting to cup either side of your face.

You looked up to see his face leaning down slightly. “Azriel.”

You don’t know who leaned in first, maybe Azriel, maybe you. It didn’t matter, because moments later the shadowsinger’s lips were on yours. They were sweet, and salty, and soft and warm. Like a warm biscuit on a cold night. Your fingers wound up in his hair before he pulled away. “Was that okay?”

His response was pulling your lips to his again, harder, more desperately like he had lived in a dry desert for centuries and you were a tiny pool of water in the middle of it all.

You returned to opening and closing your wings, building the muscle until it was as easy as walking, though it certainly felt like the cauldron was burning you alive when you woke up the following morning. But you couldn’t be bothered, you were going to fly again.

Taglist: @5onedirection5

[jeonjaemark]

a christmas adventure || lee jihoon

content warning: sexual themes, MDNI, mentions of riding (m. receiving) || masterlist

jihoon’s pov

after looking through certain audios and arranging the different sound bytes, my eyes started to ache staring at the screen for the last three hours. i turn my chair away from my screen closing my eyes and rest my hand back against the rest behind me. exhaling and inhaling a few deep breaths my eyes snap open at the instrumental ringtone of iu’s love wins all. i immediately reach for my phone already feeling the pressure of my head getting lighter.

“hi lovey.” her cheery voice chimes through the other line.

“hi lovey. you’re awake still? what’s up?” i glance at my watch seeing it’s almost two in the morning.

“nothing much. i just wanted to check in on you. i miss you.”

“i miss you too. i am sorry i had to cancel our lunch date today.” i tell her, my voice going a bit higher out of guilt.

the last few weeks i haven’t spent much time back home with y/n. between the different schedules of being at the studio, photoshoots, video shoots and rehearsals i barely had any time to even kiss y/n on the head before i leave. when i wake up for work she is asleep and when i get back home from work she is asleep. when we call each other during break, it usually for at least thirty minutes before one of us has to end it because she has her work and i have mine. i don’t remember the last time i have seen her when she is awake in broad daylight outside of video calls. it’s almost like we are in a long distance relationship.

“it’s okay. i understand why it’s cancelled.” she reassures me. “but is there any way i could steal you from your work for maybe a couple or twenty minutes?”

“lovey, you know i would drop anything for you.”

“i am happy you said that. there is a little red box for you in your top right drawer.“

i put the phone of speaker and glide over to my desk in search of the red box. the moment i slide open my top drawer there it was. a small square red box with a bow on top. i picked up the box and set it on my desk.

“what did you do?” i questioned curiously.

“you’ll see. have fun.” she ends the call before i could ask any further questions.

i open up the box with a bunch of crumpled up colored tissue paper. i toss out the crumpled paper onto my desk until i reach a card with the words ‘read me’.

hiii lovey!! welcome to your christmas scavenger hunt. today you will be forced to leave your studio for a bit. under this note will be your first clue on what you will have to find and where to go. don’t worry, nothing is too far and it’s within walking distance. so dress warmly, drink some water (or cola) and have fun ;)

xx your favorite lovey

i chuckle at the note and search for the clue in the box. a barbie pink folded paper stood out among the colored tissue paper. i pick up the note and immediately knew where to go. i threw on my hoodie and headed down the elevator walking to a nearby convenience store.

the note had mention to go to the one place where we can find all our favorite midnight snacks. i scan down the different aisle picking out the different snacks y/n likes to eat. however i couldn’t find a note within any of the packaging. i look over the note again trying to figure out the clue when it me. it said “our” favorite snack at midnight.

i rush out of the current aisle i was in and head down to the drink section. usually y/n and i like to share a cola and a bag of salty chips. i search for the coke zero when i noticed a pink note attached to one of the colas. i reach for the note reading for the next place to go.

clue after clue, i finally arrive at the last place. the last clue had hinted for me to go to place where we lost track of time talking all night. i quietly enter the cafe as the worker nods greeting me.

the strong aroma of caffeine hits me like a tidal wave. there aren’t many cafes that are open this late but y/n and i happened to stumble upon during one of our dates. it was the one night that left a core memory for the both of us.

the clue was telling the truth about y/n and i losing track of time here. when we got caught up in the rain that night, we found shelter in this cafe for a few hours. we ended up talking all night together. i have never laughed or smiled so hard in my life that night. a warm tingling sensation seeps through my skin at the thought of our first kiss happening that same night.

“sir, here is your coffee.” the barista calls out to me quietly, handing me one hot mocha hazelnut latte and an iced americano

i thank him politely when i noticed a pink note underneath the hot drink. i carefully set the drinks down on the table and read the note.

you’ve finished your hunt. now it’s time to come back to the place that is your second home

i head back to my studio shaking off some of the leftover snow. when i close the door, fairy lights switch on. i didn’t have fairy lights before leaving my studio earlier. i whip my head around finding y/n sat on my chair in a grey wool coat that barely cover his knees with a pair of red heels. it seems a little dressed up for a studio visit. her hair was pinned half up and down. her skin glowing under the fairy lights.

——

y/n pov

“surprise!” i smiled as he enters his studio.

“lovey! you’re here!” he smirks.

“did you enjoy your scavenger hunt?”

“yeah but i am more happy to see my prize at the end.”

jihoon sets the bags of snacks he bought and coffee onto the table near him. he slides off his coat fixing his hair. i stood up from his swivel chair and walk to the middle of his studio.

“what are you doing here?” his voice filled with suspicion.

“well you’ve been coming home tired because of work. i thought i could give you a different reason to be tired.”

i unbutton open the coat as it slide down to my ankles. i adjust the silk straps and run my hand down sheer fabric of the babydoll dress. my fingers play around with the giant bow covering my breast. jihoon’s eyes scan up my body. his shoulders perk up along with the corners of his lips intrigued and interested by choice of outfit.

“i know it’s a bit early for you to open up your christmas gift from me, but i thought of something else you could open that can make us both happy.”

i slowly walk over to jihoon, my heels dragging lightly against the wood floor with each step. his eyes take me in, slowly and steadily watching every movement i take towards him. the smug grin on his face only boosts my confidence to keep going with my little game. i stood in between his spread legs looking down at him. i turn around sitting my ass against his perked up friend and start to grind against him. jihoon presses his hands to my waist and i lean forward moving back against him. a few deep groans leave his lips making me smile. my panties start to soak at the sounds leaving his mouth and the way his finger start to grip me to be closer to him.

“y/n, someone might walk in on us.” he mumbles into my ear. his voice filled with warning as i spin to face him.

“you’re at your studio at three in the morning, who’s gonna walk in on us? a ghost?” i questioned. i bring my lips closer to his ear, “plus isn’t the possibility of getting caught part of the thrill of having sex in your studio? i thought you would be fulfilling one of your fantasies.”

“you’re such a brat.” he hissed.

“and you love me anyways.” i nips at his earlobe. “now shut up and let me make you feel good.”

i kiss down his neck as my hips roll into his finding their own rhythm. a few mixes of moans and groans leave his lips as i continue to grind into him. his hands squeezing and guiding my waist on him. i lock my arms around his neck circling my hips into him. he pulls my lips away from marking up his chest and smashes his lips to mine kissing me with much eager and need. his hips thrust up meeting mine making me moan against his lips.

i reach down for the buckle of his pants but he presses his hand to mine stopping me. “y/n…” his voice dripping with hesitation over the thought of someone catching us in the act.

i guide my hand lower palming him earning another moan, “i promise i will be gentle at first.”

he release his hand from mine and allows me to unbuckle him. he helps me slide off his pants and boxer enough for me. i lick my lips at the sight of him as he guides me down onto him. my walls begin to stretch deliciously as he enters me to the tilt. my face scrunches up at the pain of him entering me. jihoon crashes his lips against mine again pulling my head away from leaning on his shoulder. his tongue tracing the seams of mine while we waited for me to adjust to his size again. he trails his lips down my neck, nipping at a certain part that had butterflies fluttering in my stomach. i squeeze his arm once i felt the pain subside and he presses his hands to my hips ready to guide and aide me. i press my hands to his shoulders as i grind my hips into his building up to bouncing up and down. his hips snap up into mine every time i went down.

——

jihoon slides on his boxers while he grabs the blanket i had brought to cover my body. i snuggle closer to his body taking in his scent. aside from the mind blowing orgasms i’ve had (i stopped breathing after the seventh one) for the past twenty minutes jihoon and i have been cuddling on the couch randomly jumping from one topic to the next. i can’t remember the last time i stayed up like this with him.

“if there is one member you didn’t want to walk in on us, which one would it be?”

“any of them. i would be mortified.” he laughs. “i would also be pissed too cause i don’t want anyone else to see you like this except me.”

“possessive much?” i teased.

“only when it comes to you.” he presses a kiss to my lips. this time it was slow and gently not rough and eager like earlier.

he pulls away pushing himself off the couch away from me. i arch an eyebrow at him as he walks over to his computer and soundboard.

“lovey, what are you doing?”

“i am feeling inspired right now.” he grins.

“lee jihoon, you are not about to make a song about our sex life.” i spat sternly.

“no one will know except you and me. i think it would be fun.”

“you’re so annoying. maybe i need to tire you out more.”

jihoon drops whatever he is doing and walks back to the pull out couch. i laugh as he laid up against the cushions next to me. he wraps his arms around my waist pulling me on top to straddle him.

“i believe you said i need to be more tired.”

“i did, but i think you gotta earn the ride first and it’s nice to know i can pull you away from your work when it comes to sex.”

“it not just sex, only you can pull me away from work even when you’re just calling me to update about your day or when you call to tell me you miss me.” he presses a kiss to my forehead. “i admit that i tend to be a workaholic and sometimes i feel like i am not a good boyfriend to you and —- .”

“shhh, don’t do that. don’t start belittling yourself because work has been taking your time. you have never neglected me once. you always tell me in advance if something has come up when we had plans and today was the first time in a while that you’ve cancelled on me. you are doing a lot better managing your work and personal life.”

“well that’s because i have you.” he kisses me. “you make it hard for me to be away from you long.”

while work has been chaotic for jihoon and i (more for him than me), he has never forgotten to send me my favorite latte at the start of my day or how he would leave little notes around the apartment for me to find. he texts and call me in between schedules. he would even stay on call with me even if i am one who is busy and he happened to catch a break between his crazy schedule. even when we are free we spend it in the apartment together watching his latest anime that he been obsessed with or watching one of my fave romance movies.

“i love you, lee jihoon. don’t ever forget that and don’t ever belittle yourself on your love for me.” i look into his eyes making sure he understood my words.

“i love you more. i promise no more belittling.” he chuckles kissing me. “so i really can’t make that song?”

i groan pressing my fingers to my temples, “i am really gonna have to tire you the fuck out tonight.”

“we better get to work.” he teases, pulling me in even closer, tracing kisses down to my chest making me moan.

[linlinaert]

The last soulmate : chapter 2

Yandere! ot8! Skz x soft! fem! reader

Minho's POV:

We took off into different areas, aiming to find our last piece, and as I went into the direction I aimed for, I felt as if a piece of me is drifting little by little, that led me to know that they are not here, I tried so hard to hold myself from sprinting in another direction to look for them. I interacted a little with the fans then went to hannie. A bit later Chan hyung came looking on edge, it doesn't appear too much on his face but I can pinpoint it when his angry or stressed or any other emotion, cause that's what we're here for after all.

He came to where I was standing and laughed with the fans a little bit, he then came closer to me and whispered in my ear.

"I've found her, min." Chan whispered which made my eyes widen for a fraction of a second then quickly composed myself, remembering that I'm still Infront of fans, then I looked at him.

"Her? She? A girl?" I asked cautiously as if someone will hear us and understand, it was shocking to me to hear that our last piece was a girl, cause we just predicted that since the eight of us are males, the last one would also be a he, but i guess fate has other plans, and I was getting exited.

"Yes, min." Chan-hyung said, he smiled at me, "she's over there, go and see her and I'll tell the rest, and she doesn't know that we're soulmates, she didn't understand the pull, oh, and I'm warning you, she's too beautiful you might get blind" he added, then I raised my eyebrows at him, he's already smitten, even though he didn't even get to talk to her yet. I nodded then took off into the direction he came from, as he went to hannie and the rest.

I stopped and waved to the fans, I felt it, she was here, I looked around and saw it, the most enchanting (e/c) orbs I've ever seen, there she was, our last piece, she looked at me with a cute little frown on her pretty face, oh god does she look so innocent and pure, she looks like the type to get hurt from even the wind, how did she survive in this cruel world without us, i can't believe she lived all those years without our protection and care, I can't imagine how many hopeless guys tried to court her, I felt a vein pop in my head, she's always been ours, even if we weren't there with her, no one has the right to be near her, then I saw a hand wrapped tightly around her shoulders, my eyes widened, i looked to her side only to see a guy in his twenties glaring at me with his hand around MY soulmate, MY GIRL, how dare he, the audacity he has to glare at me while touching our girl, i glared at him back, then a hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality, I turned to see changbin and Felix, who looked at me with a look that says "don't forget that we're in a concert", so I turned back then posed with them for the fans, as they looked at her, they had the same reaction as me, who can blame them, no one expected our last soulmate to be a beautiful lady, i helped them to stay in touch with reality and not get too carried away, and one by one we all had seen her, and we all had one thought in our mind, what the hell is that guy to her?

Y/N pov :

As the concert went on I was certain that all eight of them had eye contact with you, I can't help but think that they are coming in this direction way too much, but maybe I'm only overthinking, but whenever they came this way, my heart feels like a ball of emotions, I feel so happy, and whenever they made eye contact with me, I felt like blushing and hiding somewhere.

Through out the concert, I felt jack's hand wrapping tightly around me, I looked at him, I didn't know why he was acting like this, but maybe it was because of the stares I was getting from the boys, he brought my head to lay on his shoulder or chest more than once, not that i complain, it was comfy.

~~~~~~~~~

After the concert ended,we headed home, we ordered dinner and ate, and the next morning, we went to the fanmeeting, jack was tagging along with us, me and Lucia were discussing yesterday's performance, with jack laying his head on my shoulder, and playing with my fingers.

The fanmeeting started and we were going down the line to get to the boys, my turn came and I sat Infront of the first one that I had learnt his name was Han Jisung, he was looking down at first, and then when he looked up and looked me straight in the eyes, I felt as if my whole body was on flames, beautiful flames, electric shocks went down my body, i couldn't take my eyes off of his, they looked like they hold the whole universe and more, Jisung was like me, but he looked like he knew what was happening, he then smiled softly.

"Hi there, pretty." He said softly, getting me out of my daze, I blushed hard making him chuckle, and I looked down.

"Hi" I whispered, as he took the album from my hand to sign it.

"And what is this beauty called?" He asked looking at me smugly, and I blushed, it's so hard not to when a handsome man is flirting with you like that.

"Y/N" I said, then he quickly signed it writing a bit more on the page then proceeding to close it and put it aside, while I was playing with my fingers, he then looked at me and took my hand in his, this sent a jolt of electric shocks through me, I looked at him shocked, and he only smiled.

"So Y/N do you have a boyfriend?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jisung's POV :

"Bye~~~" I said to one of the fans as she moved to hyunjin beside me, I looked down at my bracelet playing with it a little until I felt someone sitting Infront of me, I looked up only to freeze, it was her, our last piece, our girl, she really came, we were going to go look for her after the fanmeeting, but she's here now, I felt my body burning up in flames as her beautiful orbs stared into mine, she's more beautiful up closer, I smiled softly at her.

"Hi there, pretty." I said with a soft tone, unlike the hyper tones I use most of the time, something in me is telling me she's a big sensitive softie, she blushed, oh my gosh, she's so cute, I couldn't help but chuckle at her cuteness, I'm barely containing myself from getting overhyped as to not scare her away, my leg is bouncing under the table from my excitement, then I heard a small voice, and i realised it's hers, and oh my god isn't it so sweet.

"Hi" she said barely as a whisper and I literally felt myself melting, I gently took the album from her hands, I opened it to sign then I realised that I still don't know her name, so I looked at her and asked her for her name flirtatiously.

"And what is this beauty called?" I looked at her waiting eagerly to know the name of my last soulmate, I saw her blush and say "Y/N" I didn't waste time and signed the album for her, our Y/N, even her name is beautiful, I felt someone glaring daggers at me so I subtly glanced at my right side only to find that it's the same guy from yesterday, the one who dared to put his hands on our girl, I returned the glare without anyone but him noticing then I wrote my number on her album with a "your handsome soulmate" on the side then I closed it and looked up at her again, she was playing with her fingers on the table, not looking at me, ah i think I'm gonna die from her cuteness, I took her little hand gently in mine, and I instantly felt as if I was in heaven, she looked at me shocked so I smiled at her, then I felt the glares again so I asked her, hoping that I get a negative answer.

"So Y/N do you have a boyfriend?" I said knowing that her being alone for too long, could make her think that she's alone and she could get a boyfriend, and the thought alone makes me rage, but who can blame her, the blame is on us for not finding her earlier and on the said boyfriend, if there's any, to think that he can take somebody else's soulmate.

I felt hyunjin's leg hitting me underneath the table, but I didn't care, not when that damn motherfu-ker has the audacity to touch my girl and challenge me in public, I heard her pretty voice denying that she has any.

"N-no, I don't, why are you asking?" She said softly, her eyebrows frowning in confusion, then I smiled, thinking of how to break it to her.

"I wouldn't want my sweet soulmate to have a boyfriend now would I ?, and neither would want the rest of us" I said winking, and I saw her stop functioning for a second, then she blinks and looked at me with a shocked face

"What---" she said but she was cut off by the manager as he said that the time was up, and ushered her to hyunjin a bit harshly making both me and hyunjin glare at him, but before I opened my mouth to knock some sense into his head, another fan sat Infront of me, so I forced a smile on my face and made a note to talk to him later.

Author's note : hi there everyone!!! It's a little chapter showing our dear minsung's thoughts 🤭🤭, I feel like it's a bit plain but I really hope you will like it and love you all 💕

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[starryevermore]

the shelf life of those fantasies have expired ✧ cardan greenbriar

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: cardan greenbriar x fae!fem!reader

request: Cardan angst fic? 👀 - anon

summary: the goddess of timing once found them beguiling. she said she was trying. was she lying? his ribs get the feeling she did.

word count: 1,977

warnings?: angst city™, no happy ending, dual povs, mutual pining, miscommunication, not proofread

PART TWO | PART THREE

When she stood at his side, looked so…natural at his side, it was easy to find you comparing yourself to Jude Duarte. No one understood why Cardan made her his seneschal, not when they had seemed bitter enemies before the Blood Crown was perched atop his head. You didn’t understand, either. The most Cardan had confined in you was that Jude helped him get the crown. Everything else remained a mystery. You would pass gossiping fae, those who sought insight behind the High King’s actions, and not have a single clue what to say. You wished you could lie, if just to be able to say anything but cryptic excuses for why Cardan stopped confiding in you. 

Once, you thought you might be the one standing at his side. Not as High Queen, of course—no one had ever dreamed that Cardan would sit on the throne. But he had been one of the few you would dare to call a friend. Before the crown was perched atop his head, you would’ve said he called you the same. Perhaps not in front of his other friends, or anyone else for that matter, but you used to be certain you meant something to him.

You weren’t sure why you were still here. The longer you stayed, the more your heart clenched in your chest. If you remained for just a moment longer, it would give out on you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jude bend down to whisper something to Cardan. You didn’t feel in control of your hand as it snatched a goblet of wine. It was heavy in your hand, but it managed to ground you. To give you a reason to not collapse where you stood. 

How had things changed so quickly? Just months ago, Cardan was sitting on your blanket during lessons, trying to see how many twigs he could stick in your hair before you would tell him to stop. You always tried to see how long it would take before he got bored of it. When did you become the one he grew bored of? 

“Dance with me.”

You lifted the goblet up, your head tilting back, finishing your wine in a single go. You set it down on a table and stalked away. Cardan followed after you. You spared a glance at the throne, where Jude still stood. Exasperation was clear on her face. Whether it was directed at you or Cardan, you couldn’t say for certain. You knew enough of her skill with a sword, though, to stay away from her bad side. 

“I am tired,” you said. 

Cardan’s hand caught your wrist. Jaw clenching and unclenching, you were forced to remain at the ridiculous party. You should’ve stopped coming to them months ago, but these events were the only opportunity to catch a glimpse at your friend-turned-king. 

“One dance,” he insisted. 

“I would prefer to leave.”

His hand slipped to your wrist. Fingers intertwined. When you tried to pull away again, his grip tightened. Your eyes lifted to meet his. If you shut them, you could imagine all of your dreams were coming true. “I would prefer you in my arms.”

“You’re drunk.”

Cardan’s grip slackened enough for you to wrench your hand free again. “Would you deny your king?”

The nonanswer was answer enough. Fae cannot lie. Cardan cannot deny his inebriation. He cannot deny that the one reason he would talk to you now was because his senses were dulled. Cardan Greenbriar does not consider you a friend any longer, so why would he ever seek you out sober? You wished you were drunk, too. It would hurt less. 

“Would my king force my hand?”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. The same lips a laugh fell from. You took a step back. He stepped toward you. “One dance,” he repeated. 

By now, an audience had formed. You cared little for fae gossip, but if you tried to leave now, it would be impossible to escape those who wanted to know why you would deny the king. You held your hand out and let him take it. You ignored the way your heart stuttered as his thumb ran over your knuckles. 

“One dance.”

The smile Cardan flashed you was enough to make your knees weak. For that, at least, you were grateful to lean against him as you danced. It was easy, then, to lose yourself to the music, to pretend that things were how they used to me. When Cardan was your friend, when you told each other everything. If you lost yourself enough, you could imagine a crown perched atop your head. Jude could still stand at Cardan’s side. She was a damned good seneschal. But you would be the one sitting on his other side. 

Cardan spun you around the floor, a smile on his face. You pretended it was because he was happy to have you in his arms. “I only ever see you at these parties,” he said. 

“To be a king is to have a busy life,” you said. 

“I would make time for you.”

He would, but he hasn’t. Was he waiting for an invitation? Cardan never used to before. There were countless times you would awake to find him waiting for you at the foot of your bed. He never liked having to wait for you to ask for his attention. There was a time he freely gave it. Had the Blood Crown changed who he was? Did it force him to realize he could do better than you? 

The song faded into another, and you slipped out of Cardan’s arms. His hands still chased after you, but you artfully dodged them. A lump formed in your throat that you were quick to swallow. Months ago, you would have dreamed about a moment like this. Now, it felt like Cardan was using as a placeholder. As a symbol for someone he would prefer to dance but would never give him the time of day. 

You looked at the throne again. Jude watched Cardan. Her face was unreadable. It was no secret that fae looked down upon humans. You never fancied yourself that sort of person. Certainly not when it came to Jude Duarte. It took a special sort of person, fae or not, to capture the interest of a prince. If there was anyone who deserved it, it was her. If she was the one that Cardan wanted at his side, you would not stand in the way. 

“It was nice to see you again,” you said, because you knew you would not see him after tonight.

“Have breakfast with me tomorrow. I’ll have the cooks make your favorites.”

You could not tell a lie, so you only offered a smile. “Sleep well, Cardan.”

Before he could say anything more, say anything that might delude you into staying, you turned and left. Not a single person stopped you along the way. Not a single one cared whether you stayed or left—least of all the one person you wished to beg for you. 

By the time the sun rose again, you had left Elfhame.

Cardan Greenbriar drummed his fingers against the wood table. He had invited you to breakfast, hadn’t he? Wracking his still wine-addled brain, he tried to recall the conversation with you. Yes, he certainly said breakfast. Or had it been lunch? Cardan spared a glance out the window. The sun was nearly at its peak. Had he asked you to breakfast or lunch? Had he asked you anything at all? 

At the sound of footsteps entering the room, Cardan jumped to his feet. When it turned out to only be Jude, he flopped back into his seat. He propped his elbow on the table, pressed his cheek into his fist. 

“I didn’t realize my presence was so disappointing,” Jude said. Her eyes swept across the table, at the two place settings and the untouched food. The one thing that had moved was Cardan’s goblet, which had been refilled minutes earlier. “She didn’t come.”

Cardan gestured at the empty seat across from him. 

“Are you certain you asked her?” 

He nodded.

“And she said yes?”

Cardan began to say an exasperated yes, that he wasn’t an idiot, but as he replayed the events from the night before, he wasn’t so sure. “I asked her to breakfast,” he said, because he was certain of that. Jude arched a brow. “…and she told me to sleep well.”

Jude ran a hand over her face. “I knew you were hopeless, but I didn’t imagine you were a lost cause. Really, how did you manage to be with anyone?”

“I was a prince. They just fell into my lap.”

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t fae, because then I could believe that was a lie,” Jude said. She looked over at the empty seat. The seat that should have been filled by you. “I’m going to send the Ghost to see where she is. Perhaps she was too drunk last night to remember you invited her, or maybe her days are mixed up.”

Cardan frowned at the untouched food. “Maybe she realized she could do better than me.”

Jude reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cardan lifted his cheek from his fist and pressed it against her hand. If he shut his eyes, he could pretend it was you offering him comfort. “Whatever her reason, we’ll bring her here. We’ll figure things out.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose her,” Cardan admitted. 

“We won’t let it come to that. I won’t let it come to that.”

An hour later, the Ghost returned. The words still echoed in his head. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. He had gone to your home and found it empty. Everything important to you had been packed and taken away. The Ghost lied to him, of course. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a lie, since the Ghost didn’t know its importance. But you left one thing behind. 

Cardan stood in your bedroom, staring at your vanity. It had been cleared of your favorite jewelry and other pretty things you adorned yourself with. It was empty, except for the ring that lay on its marble top.

Jude once told him, when he admitted your feelings for you, about how some humans would gift their beloved a ring as promise of their love. One ring as a promise of monogamy, another as a promise of marriage, and a final ring as a promise of eternal love. Cardan had taken great care in selecting a ring for you, bearing in mind your affinity toward certain metals and specific cuts of stone. He thought it was perfect. When he presented it to you, after he had been crowned High King, he told you he picked it especially for you. You smiled and slipped it on your finger, said it was perfect.

If it was so perfect, why did you leave it behind to collect dust? 

Cardan picked up the ring. A part of him wanted to fling it across the room. If you were rejecting his love, then that was the least the ring deserved. He wanted the stone to shatter and the metal to warp. He wanted to reduce it to dust. He offered you his love, and you left it, and him, behind. But Cardan couldn’t find it in him to throw you away. 

He slipped the ring onto his littlest finger. He was going to find you. He was going to find you, and drag you back to Elfhame and put that ring back on your finger where it belonged. You might have left him behind, but he wouldn’t let you stay away. 

By the time the sun set, he had given orders to bring you home. 

PART TWO | PART THREE

[boimann]

A while ago you made a post abt neurodivergent headcanons for the TF2 characters, and included Medic having chronic mania/hallucinations. As someone who experiences those very things I’ve been wanting to hear further on your thoughts surrounding this headcanon (that I share myself :D). If you’re up for/comfortable with writing abt it, I can understand if you’re not :) Still! I wanted to say I enjoyed seeing a headcanon abt medic dealing with psychosis that wasn’t an angst fest or “grr scary and evil!!!” Type deal

I feel the same way I'm exhausted of seeing psychosis always get demonized (that headcanon was basically just me projecting on my favorite little guy) also i have been dying for an excuse to expand on this headcanon so thank you anon!!!!

as said in my previous post medic has hallucinations on the daily, mostly minor auditory stuff

I don't think he would be freaked out by his hallucinations, he'd be fascinated by them and he would want to study them (he follows cartoon logic: he hallucinates a big scary monster and he sticks his head in its maws and marvels at its teeth)

sometimes tho he gets too wrapped up in his hallucinations and has a hard time separating what's real from what isn't and that's where Archimedes comes in

medic trained him to pick up on certain cues to which he responds by perching on his shoulder and applying pressure therapy by pressing on the side of his neck

other times he tries to get medic to pet him to distract him and make him focus on something soothing instead

occasionally tho it's better to ask the other mercs for help and he just goes up to them and straight up asks them if what he's seeing is real

he's told them of his situation and they are all pretty used to it at this point (also this is probably one of the more normal things about the guy who sews animal organs into people)

although sometimes when he's alone with scout he gets to have a little fun with it: he gets really close to him, stares into his soul with his cold blue eyes, points at the nearest corner and goes "do you see zhe grinning man?"

medic has put the fear of god in scout for the funnies and scout has shit himself on numerous occasions

he just likes to be silly in true medic fashion

here are some silly sketches about this headcanon

Scout pov:

How scout sleeps since medic started pulling these pranks

[galactic-rhea]

The thing is,,,,abuse doesn't have anything to do with intelligence or lack of confidence, though yes, a person with low self-esteem is an easier target for abusers, however that's what not I'm talking about.

Like I'm someone who doesn't like to take part in The Discourse (tm) because this is fandom, I'm here to talk about my favorite dolls and create silly scenaries with them. And it might feel a bit egregious to talk about something as delicate and serious as abuse, grooming or domestic violence but also it's the perfect playground to explore such themes and you can learn a lot by psychologically analizing a character and do your own research on the matter so you can understand abuse better, and sometimes that way you can also have a more critical view on real life, and for some of us, also come to terms with our own lives.

That said, back to my original point, it has nothing to do with intelligence. A person that falls into a cycle of abuse doesn't make them stupid, the whole deal of predators and abusers is that they know how to play their game, they know how to manipulate. A victim's mind will always try to cope with the abuse in ways that can be hard to understand sometimes in ways that will make you say 'well, that's enabling their abuser', but is not a statement on their intelligence or lack of it, abuse dynamics are extremelly complex, and victims will go through several states such a guilt, or violent outbrusts, fear, appeasing, avoidance, sometimes all sometimes just a few. And it's because no one is the same and no one's experiences will be the same, even though there are patterns you can identify sometimes.

So when someone wants to argue against a character being too smart to fall for abuse or manipulation, it's a bit sad to me. Not necessarily malicious or dangerous, or anything, again this is fandom and fandom runs rampant with whatever takes that makes all of us grimace. But because that's not how it works, if a certain dynamic isn't abusive by your pov, then it has nothing to do with the character's intelligence. It's not about being strong, or confident; that downplays how abusive dynamics come to be.

Like for example y'know I don't think padmé and anakin were abusive, I've made several posts about it, but it's not because they are too intelligent for that.

Likewise, Anakin wasn't stupid for being groomed by Palpatine; the contrary, he was quite literally a gifted child and a genius at mechanics and was good at many things, including drawing and strategies, but he fell for Palpatine's grooming because:

a) Palpatine is an evil top tier manipulator and predator who knows how to play adults, he literally knew how to play the jedi council, what was a 9 y/o going to do about it.

And b) Anakin's trauma and unattended mental illnesses made him an easier victim for grooming; he was already used to be a thing and be a servant from the moment he learned to talk.

But even if we weren't talking about someone as deeply messed up as Anakin was already, abusers and predators always will take advantage and exploit of the weaknesses and flaws on an individual, they will adapt and change their tactic according to the victim needs, that's why anyone could become a victim, it doesn't matter if your IQ is up there on the moon.

It's not about being too "stupid" to not realize there was abuse, it's a deep, complicated and terrible ensemble of thoughts and insecurities tangling around the brain in such a way that there's no a way to blame the abuser without feeling at fault, or at the very least without feeling scared of retaliation or lost, it's a power dynamic that messes up the sense of self.

[extremely-judgemental]

Long Post

I was thinking about Silver Flames (because why have a good start to the year?) Anyway, there are a lot of discussions on Cassian’s and Rhysand’s behaviours, but what is going on with Azriel? He is the only one ‘kind’ to Nesta even when her sisters give up on her. He knows and understands her better than anyone, and later, he becomes her best friend. However, he also agrees with Inner Circle on her ostracism and imprisonment. It’s inaccurate to say he’s out of character since we know very little of him. We don’t have his POV to know his true intentions yet his actions are quite clear, and they are at odds with his identity.

Nesta’s imprisonment

If there is anyone to feel, at the very least, uncomfortable about confining Nesta for being an inconvenience, it should be Azriel. He spends the first eleven years of his life as a captive and is tortured by his half-brothers. He knows better what it is like to be punished without a reason, especially at the hands of one’s family, and its impact. The idea of imprisonment alone should be a tripwire for him, yet he plays a willing chaperone. Assuming Azriel can’t recognise this as abuse solely based on the circumstances, he should be alarmed to find a wounded (despite the fae healing) Nesta the following morning after she falls down the stairs. Whenever she gets a bruise outside training, it should make him question his brother because it’s what his own did to him when they were alone. Interestingly, the thought that Cassian might be the cause crosses his mind, although he is merely amused by it.

Cassian’s relationship with Morrigan

These two share a weird—if not deeply disturbing—relationship intended to hurt Azriel enough to distance him from Morrigan. And this doesn’t change even after one of them gets a mate. This should affect Azriel on so many levels. Cassian supposedly ruined his chance with the woman he loved (no one owes anyone anything here, but in this case, that should be his train of thought). Cassian is also the first among the two to get mated. 

Now, a mate is more sacred to Azriel than his brothers, and he has been yearning for one for centuries. During the solstice, Cassian and Morrigan exchange inappropriate gifts when everyone in the room is aware of the bond to some extent, except Nesta. Even if he doesn’t have proper experience with healthy romances, it must infuriate Azriel to watch Cassian disrespect the bond enough to flirt with another woman. It could have been an interesting moment for him to truly see his friends for who they are, and for his jealousy to morph into resentment towards Cassian for treating his mate essentially like a mistress. But he doesn’t show any signs of it.

Azriel is not just protecting the sanctity of the mating bond but his worthiness. When he sees anybody treat their mate poorly, it should drive him to act. It shouldn’t even be a question of whether he would choose this or his brother. It is often shown he doesn’t hesitate to go against even Rhysand, so why doesn’t he in this case? The core of his identity should trump his loyalty to his family.

Cassian’s relationship with Nesta 

The three brothers are raised in Illyria, where women are abused, mutilated, and their lives are controlled. They are supposedly superior to their kind who treat women better. And Azriel is said to be the most respectful as his mother’s suffering influenced him at a young age. Now, to see Nesta hurt under their care while her mate shows no concern should lead to him questioning Cassian’s character. 

Moreover, based on the importance of this bond in his life, Azriel will have certain expectations of how a mate is meant to be treated. For him, it doesn’t matter what kind of person the mate is since she/he is a blessing. He goes above and beyond for Morrigan and Elain for the flicker of hope that either might be his. Like Cassian, the mated relationships he witnesses are Rhysand’s parents and Rhysand with Feyre. He might have noticed stark differences in their treatments. He sees Rhysand threatening Nesta for simply not agreeing with his wishes, for things aren’t even a crime; Cassian disregarding Nesta’s wishes, mocking her, belittling her, not standing up when everyone is against her. And yet, Azriel supports every one of his choices.

For these reasons, his reaction during the Blood Rite is baffling. Azriel is the only one emotionally driven to consider Cassian’s fears and reckless enough to support him in retrieving Nesta. Instead, he consoles his brother.

If he recognised all of this, it’d explain why he cared for Nesta and how it developed into the understanding between the two. Honestly, I didn’t get the sense they were that close for Azriel to go bat-shit crazy at the bog when Nesta went missing. It felt so out of place from laughing at her bruises one day and then caring deeply for her the next. One minute he’s ready to attack Nesta for fighting with Elain, the next he is more relieved than Cassian to find her.

Azriel’s shadows

Aren’t they supposed to be sentient? Now, they are sort of an extension of Azriel, but they tend to react on their own irrespective of his feelings. We see that with their hiding around Morrigan and Elain while playing with Gwyneth. The shadows' reaction to these women is meant to be signs of the truth they can see but not Azriel—the truth he isn’t willing to accept. Why are they only expressive when his romantic prospects are concerned, but not the one thing that brought them together or invoked his ability in the first place? Shouldn’t they be disapproving of the whole imprisonment since it’s something Azriel suffered, even if he doesn’t want to equate the two, even when he’s repressing his trauma? It’s confusing and beats the point of sentience if they obey him when his entire being is constantly threatened.  

Sure, Azriel is creepy. But this is much worse—making his past and desire for a mating bond his whole personality for three books, his behaviour is completely ironic.

Everything Nesta is subjected to by the Inner Circle should be a stressor for him. It would be hard for Azriel to realise that the brothers who accepted him despite his past turned into abusers themselves. If it is one instance, it’s understandable why he would be too blind to it. But they pile over one another in a way he can’t just ignore them.

In his book, these will be addressed—his imprisonment, his relationship with his mother and half-brothers, his self-esteem, the impact of Morrigan and Cassian’s actions on him, and the mating bond tied to his worthiness. But since Azriel enabled Nesta’s poor treatment in House of Wind, this is going to seem to come from a place of entitlement and self-centredness; that these become an issue only when he faces it. 

I’ve never seen a narrative so biased against a character. The very foundation of Azriel is stripped in order to validate and justify Cassian’s (and Inner Circle’s) behaviour towards Nesta.

[son-of-crows-and-rats]

I've rambled about this game before in tags and while I have a lot of complex thoughts on Curly as a character and what he should have done and how fandom responses and discussions have had good and bad takes (and it's all complicated and has layers which is a core point of the game!) one take I've never seen explicitly said for "Curly should have xyz" which I'm surprised to not see is "Curly should have asked Anya what she wanted". We don't know how much he would have listened or if her plan would make sense, but I think it says a lot about how the game's POVs (and some of the fandom) show Anya with little agency and someone who things happen to not someone who does things, and the men on board as the ones who make decisions and decide the course of the narrative for better or worse. I've seen people saying Anya should have been able to get angry and kill Jimmy, and people saying not all victims want violence and it's okay if she just wants to escape and move on. There's also arguments saying Curly should have reported Jimmy, shot him, put him in cryostasis, etc. and arguments saying Curly wasn't being malicious and that he was worried about things like their pay being docked, being locked with that conflict for months, not understanding the situation, etc. And it is complicated! But part of that male-centric view the game critiques (and fandom is against but accidentally perpetuates at times) is saying that it should have been Curly's choice at all. We don't know if Anya would have wanted to have shift scheduling and where she stayed and who spoke to Jimmy changed so he's kept away from her and to leave it at that. We don't know if she would have wanted to report him directly to the company's HR. We only see her when she's at her breaking point and even then her goal is to defend herself and prevent Jimmy from harming anyone. Anything past that is speculation. Obviously certain plans like a murder suicide or something like that would make sense for Curly to be against, but he never bothered to check. He said he would do anything, but didn't ask what that "anything" should be. Not all victims are the same, and not everybody has the same priorities. Part of getting rid of that male-centric toxic rape culture is letting women and victims have their own voices and decide their own paths, and framing the ideal situation as "the man in charge should have decided to protect the woman in xyz way because that's what she needed" instead of "the man in charge should have asked the woman what she needed and protected her that way" is still ultimately one man having control of everything. And we know from the game that doesn't work, even if he's a "good man that means well" and thinks he's inferring what's best. The only way to make sure victims get the support they need is to ask

[asimpwithfreetime]

Dilf Jake x reader right? This has been plaguing my twisted mind ever since forever, alright.

Dilf jake who is already married to neytiri {my love} And already has his four kids, but still isn't satisfied anymore, but theres a certain young na'vi who caught his attention. They obviously like jake sully {who wouldn't} but can't since he's married and is toruk macto, but Jake reassures the reader its fine with sum smut 🤭

Ohhhhh, I’m not usually into cheating smut, but hell yeah!

Sweet treat (Married! Toruk Makto! Jake Sully x younger! Fem! Reader)

Warnings: age gap, cheating, manipulation, power dynamic, inexperienced reader

{ Consume under your own media consumption and choices, not recommended for people under the age of 18. }

Author’s note: While writing this, it has gotten extremely long, so the NSFW part will be another post. I’ll make a part two only for the smut

(Yawne in na’vi means love)

[ 1st person POV ]

I felt his piercing eyes on me during the comunal dinner. I looked up to meet Toruk Makto’s eyes. I felt a shiver run down my spine. He was sitting with his family while he ate.

I was trying to keep myself focused on other things, but his eyes kept unmoving from me. I got more blushy under his constant looks.

Jake Sully had always been my imposible love. Of course, I had just reached the adult age, but I had been fantasizing with him since the moment I knew what ‘fantasizing’ meant.

His eyes pieced through me, locked into place with a smug grin on his lips. Neytiri was right beside him, but his eyes were on me. Maybe Tuk and Kiri would asking him something and he would reply with short words and a nod of his head, but his eyes came back to me.

I looked around in confusion. “Me?” I mouthed at him and he just nodded as his feline smirk got even wider. I felt a pleasurable chill run down my spine, which made my tail move around a little bit. I looked away as soon as I saw Neytiri look at Jake.

I giggled to myself as I went back to eating. Who was I to deny Toruk Makto’s desires?

I smiled sheepishly once again when I rose my gaze to eye him. His eyes again on me, he made a tiny move, looking up, as if to point with his gaze where the ikran nests were on top of our Hometree.

I got all blushy again, he was clearly asking me to meet by the ikran. That was a really risky move, but I was at that young adult age where everything seems fun instead of risky.

Just as dinner was finishing, I quickly left my group, saying I wanted to go to bed early. And before other Na’vis moved around, I was already making my way to the ikran nests. Gingerly smiling as I waited for Jake to show up.

I sat down, really understanding that Jake would have to make up fifteen different stories to get away from Neytiri and their four kids, specially with how curious and nosy his children were.

I didn’t mind waiting, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do anyways. Soon I heard rustling coming from the Hometree and I straightened my posture. There he was, Jake Sully, my admired Olo’eyktan.

I smiled shyly. I made a tiny hand gesture, bringing it to my forehead, showing him the sign of ‘I see you’.

He approached me smugly, already knowing what he would do. “You look beautiful” he spoke with a low voice, making me get a goosebump.

“Thank you…” I whispered shyly. We already knew what we were gonna do, so I didn’t expect to have any chit-chat before.

“I’ve been admiring you” he spoke as he went over to me, his hands hovering over my hips “May I?” He asked.

I nodded and smiled, quickly feeling the warmth of his big hands on my hips. “Jake…. I….” I was at a lost for words “Call me yours” he spoke softly, a gentle demand. “Ma’Jake” I quickly said, almost on command.

“I’m going to take you somewhere” he whispered in my ear, making me look at him with wide eyes. He whistled a specific note and his Ikran came flying down.

“And where are we heading to, Ma’Jake?” I whispered softly as he used his force to get me onto his ikran “Hold tight, and don’t ask, little one” he purred in my ear, hoping onto the ikran behind me and pressing me down against his chest.

The flight was quiet, Jake diving the sky with his ikran. As soon as we were away from the Hometree, one of his hands went straight to my thigh, giving it gentle squeezes. “You haven’t mated yet, have you, my sweet?” He asked with curiosity.

I shook my head, my voice shy “No, I haven’t”. He chuckled darkly behind me, leaning his head against mine. The night sky was beautiful. Once we had flown like 30 minutes into the night, on the floating mountains, he went down for us to walk. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while, Y/n” he said as he helped me down from the ikran.

“Ma’Jake” I said softly “I… I don’t know if we should do this, you are married…. We can’t even mate properly” I shyly looked at him.

He laughed again “And what’s so wrong? You’ll be my little protégé” he just smiled smugly as we walked to an edge to sit down and talk.

“And what about the age difference? And Neytiri will quickly catch onto this” I was a bit worried, now that everything seemed so much more real now.

Jake couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ma’Y/N” he shook his head “I’m the wiser one here, I’ll manage it all, just relax and let’s have fun” he tried to reassure me, but I wasn’t so sure about this all.

“Jake….” I started, but he shut me down with a soft peck to my lips “I’ve seen the way you look at me” he said smoothly. “And I can’t help but want you too”.

“If I gotta court you to get you to be with me, then so be it” he smiled as he pulled me closer to him “Jake, you can’t court me” I started, once again “Specially not in public”.

He smiled down at me “Well, you are only expressing your worries, but you ain’t saying no” he said playfully “You truly want me, don’t you?”.

I reddened at the thought, almost as if I had gotten caught red handed. It was true, I wasn’t refusing his advances but rather just wanting to ultimate the last possible problems we may face.

“See? You like me a lot, don’t you?” He gently pressed a kiss to my forehead “You are so cute, like an open book. Just an innocent little thing” he smirked.

I let out the tiniest of whines “Ooh, my little yawne is getting needy” he chuckled again.

Now feeling confident, he held my hips and brought me to sit on his lap as we looked over Pandora with a starry night above.

Avatar Taglist: @amerieee @simp-erformarvelwomen

[boozenboze]

141 and male reader who is angry and when he’s angry, he goes in the gym area they have and just punches the punching bad with bare fists for hours on end and basically breaks the punching bags but keeps putting new ones up. his fists are bloody and bruised and everyone is looking for him and they can’t find him so they search everywhere and find him with blood running down his hands from the countless hours of punching and they have to practically drag him out of the gym and they make him lay down which he wont go down without a fight but YA

SORRY ITS LONG💗😭

Calm Down!

Summary: After a certain soldiers constant slip ups and slacking off Lieutenant Rage gets angry.

Females She/Her and She/ They DNI

Today hadn't gone so well, in fact it went terribly. For starters two of the new recruits lost the files that the team had been sent to retrieve. Secondly, one of the same men had flunked out during training, only to later be seen running about with some of the other soldiers. And the cup of tea to pull everything together he did something he shouldn't have. That thing being talking about one of the higher ups, Lieutenant Rage, also known as M/n. The h/c haired male had his eyes on the recruit since the beginning, knowing that he'd be trouble from the start. The childish acts, the constant slacking off, and always holding everybody back by getting injured. It was clear as day that the man shouldn't be in the military for those exact reasons. The mans carelessness for himself and others would get them all killed.

"Captain do you not understand what i'm saying?" The h/c haired male asked as Price hummed, showing that he was paying attention to the males words as he filled out some papers.

"Rage look, I understand your concern but I haven't seen anything wrong with the seargent." Price explained as M/n glared into his skull.

"Besides maybe your overreacting-"

"I AM NOT OVERREACTING!" The male finally snapped as that cold glint in his eyes that would normally only be seen on the field was now visible. Price flinched at the males change of tone, it was hot yet scary.

"That bastard could get us all killed at some point and your sitting on yer ass like that's ok. THAT IS NOT OKAY!" The male yelled as Price shook slightly from the males booming voice. He was the males Captain, he shouldn't be getting yelled at like this. With one final huff of anger the male stormed out as Price sat in his chair stunned.

The h/c haired male stormed down the hallway, knocking a solider down in the process.

"Hey! Whats your problem....." The soldiers voice dragged as he realized it was his Lieutenant. "I-i'm sorry sir!" The soldier squeaked as he ran down the hallway. M/n was already breathing heavily out of anger, and that anger seemed to double after that small accident. He had to let off some steam at this point. If he was pushed any further he'd end up killing someone. The man was speeding over to the training area that he knew would be empty considering that it was around the time the soldiers would go to their barracks. The h/c haired male couldn't do that, his adrenaline was high and that would only keep him awake longer. He just hoped that he could blow off some steam before going to bed.

Timskip (Gaz pov)

I just came from Prices office and he seemed to be deep in thought. I asked if everything was oky but he said no. He told me about the conversation he had with M/n and from how he explained it, it seemed like he was pissed off. M/n was always the most aggressive out of us all, hell he'd probably yank a mans head off if he could.

We were all walking around the base looking for our beligerant soldier known as M/n. The man could do the unthinkable when he's angry so we hope he isn't doing anything crazy.

"We've checked everywhere for the man it's clear he isn't here!" Soap complained, getting tired of feeling like he had been walking circles. I looked at the man before turning my attention to Ghost. Seemed like he didn't wanna be here either, but he had no choice. We passed the training area and heard a loud slam which caught our attention. Price gave us a look before opening the door. I was surprised to see M/n standing over a punching bag, i'm guessing he broke it considering that the chain that the bag was connected to wasn't there anymore. The man was out of breath as he picked up the punching bag and throwing it to the side.

Ghost had walked over and put his arms under the shorter males arms. The man immediately threw a fit, he was kicking and yelling incoherantly and the men were only able to hear snippets of his words.

"Get the fuck off me-BITCH!" The male yelled as he whipped his head back hitting Ghosts mask. Ghost grunted from the sudden pressure being put on his face as he crouch down to the floor with the male still in his hold. The taller man had the h/c haired male pinned to the ground as the position they were in restricted his movements.

3rd pov

"M/n calm down, we can stay like this for as long as we have to, to make your relax." Price said as M/n huffed angrily. Slowly but surely the mans breathing steadied, despite that he still wasn't calm. Gaz had held the mans hand and furrowed his brows at the sight of the males bleeding knuckles. Ghost had already noticed the mans hands, so he picked him up and walked to the infirmary.

Timeskip

Ghost was seated on the couch next to Ghost, who was currently sipping on some tea as the h/c haired male groaned in annoyance. The slurping sounds aggravated him but he couldn’t since Ghost had him wrapped up in a blanket. He looked like a burrito, a angry one at that. The lieutenant looked at him for a moment before offering the male a biscuit, to which he took. He may be angry, but when snacks are offered there can’t be much of an argument. The male muttered a “thank you” while chewing the savory treat. In that moment Soap and the others came into the room in their pajamas. The Scot almost laughed when he saw the position the private had been put in.

“Well ain’t this nice to see.” Soap said while ruffling the males hair to which the male attempted to bite his hand. Soap laughed and poked the males side before sitting down.

“L/n...look, I thought about what you had said and your right.” Price said as M/n looked him dead in the eye.

“We’ll be terminating him tomorrow, he won’t be bothering anyone else.” Price explains as M/n visibly relaxed. Seems like the removal of that one recruit made a big difference in the males mood which made them all happy.

“Alright...Lets watch a movie since we’re still up!” Gaz said happily while the other men hummed in agreement as M/n squirmed under the blanket.

“If one of you dont get me out this hot ass blanket we’re having problems.” M/n said as Soap hurriedly tool the blanket from around the male. The sound of the movie could be heard as all the men sat back and relaxed. M/n had his head on Ghosts shoulder while Soap had his head on M/n’s. Seems like they would be having a peaceful night.