#and yes there’s a very human humanity to the expression of her emotions. There IS brattiness there is anger

[itspileofgoodthings]

So sorry if this is bothering you but so curious as well... why do you hate Guts?

Thanks for your time ❤

you’re not bothering me!

I think the simplest way to answer this is with one of Olivia’s own lyrics from pretty isn’t pretty when she sings “none of it matters and none of it ends” because. That is kind of her whole ethos about how life works. She believes that! And so her work, to me, is profoundly cynical and self-absorbed because it can’t point to anything bigger (none of it matters) so it revolves purely around her own feelings. It won’t ever situate itself in a wider picture. And I love whining in a song tbh. I love when an artist captures those uglier emotions —the discontent, the restlessness, the irritation, the blandness and staleness of it all and the railing against it—because those are all part of the human experience. I am continually shocked—it is shoCKING—by how many negative emotions I can and do experience over and over again. But it is thankfully against the backdrop of reality. My bad moods are something that can be so unpleasant to feel and so ugly to witness—I wrestle with how ugly and small my suffering is—but there is a way in which, all discourse about the validity of any and all of my feelings accounted for, those aren’t real. Just symptoms of my suffering and sometimes my convalescence (lol, love a symptom of convalescence) but reality is still always so much realer. It’s always ready to break in a million times a day; the beauty and sturdiness of reality, the texture of existence, as Flannery O’Connor once said, is always there and with enough time (and with patience and help and love) I can get back to contact with it. Not just the state of my own mind full of bitterness and worry and pain, endlessly stewing in its own unhappiness.

I am not good at that, it takes a lot to get me there. But I guess my point is—to circle back—Olivia’s music doesn’t try and doesn’t want to. Its scope is so narrow, every song no matter how pleasing at first eventually sours (lololololol) because it’s JUST rooted in her own experience, generally her own suffering. And there’s no sharpness or cleverness in the world (she can be both sharp and clever!) that can hide that lack of range. So you hear a song once—for me, it was brutal—-and you’re like YEAH. I recognize this kind of whininess because I’ve felt it before. There is something true to it! But the more she writes the more you watch her do it over and over again (sonically, too, she loves to speak-talk and tbh they’re just sub-par remixes of brutal) the more you start to be like “oh, is that it? We’re not going anywhere with this? There’s no turn or catharsis or bridge or anything that lifts us out of this even for a second?” and it’s just —blegh.

And the thing is there doesn’t even have to be, like, some triumphant girlboss victory where she feels better. I’m not saying her songs are bad because they’re sad and depressing. It’s that they establish no outside contact with reality. They are, for all her clever little film-noir references or whatever, only ever self-referential. And that gets old so fast no matter who is talking.

[gaypirate420]

It's two in the morning so it's sad hours.

As much as I'm loving Viktor Christ I can't help but think how 1) the Hexcore is manipulating him by using Sky and his guilt over her death and 2) his own traumatic experience because he fucking died!

Yes it is very rushed how Viktor left Jayce but Viktor is not in his right mind, I genuinely don't think he doesn't feel emotions, I think he's detached, disassociated or depersonalized. He died and woke up in a new non-human body, his best friend used on him the very thing he asked him to destroy! The Hexcore is making him feel all sorts of things, new knowledge and possibilities that he can't focus on anything!

The way that Viktor reacts to Jayce's hug.

It's this expression on his face, he doesn't feel anything when the person he loves most hugs him. There's the slightest movement of his part.

"it was affection that held us together" WAS, he doesn't feel it anymore, he's dull, his emotions are watered down by either the Hexcore or this extremely traumatic event he just passed.

UGH MY BOY I LOVE HIM AND NEED TO HUG HIM.

Also, I really really hope the Hexcore influence goes away, I like a good brainwashing trope but one of Viktor's charms is that he's insane all by his own views. His radical transhumanist ideals. I don't want him to be the Hexcore's puppet forever, because that'll be so sad and such a horrible destiny for him.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 7

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Magical Help with Dyslexia, Rhys is a good big brother, Azriel finally is less of an idiot and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"I am supposed to...read all of these?" Eira asked Rhys with a grimace. He had dropped a stack of books in front of her at breakfast the next day...after Azriel and she had...come to an understanding of sorts. After…

She didn’t want to think of it. Not right now. She needed something else…something to take her mind off it. Of all of it.  

And Rhys sufficed.

Rhys chuckled, his shoulders shaking with silent amused laughter.

“It's just three books,” he replied with a wide smile. “Magical Primers of sorts. They’ll help you understand how magic works. I recommend starting with the one at the bottom of the pile. That’ll probably be the easiest to digest.”

“How long do I have?” She asked weakly. 

“You’ve got a week,” Rhys said, and the horror dawned on her face. A week. She could never read that in a week. Maybe one book. Maybe if she did nothing else and didn't sleep. Maybe then. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice growing gentle. "I know it probably is....overwhelming...."

"I can't read that." Eira blurted out.

"You can't read these books or you can't read at all?" Rhys asked her, no judgement in his voice.

"I can read," she assured him weakly. "I just..." she hesitated. "Promise not to laugh?" she asked him, her voice trembling.

The look on Rhys’ face became instantly serious, the gentle look in his gaze became even more gentle as he took in her expression. "Of course I promise," he assured her, and his voice was so sincere, it almost made her feel like crying.

"The letters change positions," she admitted, her voice tiny.  "I know it sounds insane, but I swear it's what happens."

Rhys was silent, his expression thoughtful. He didn't call out her insanity or brush her off or call her a liar. He just nodded and asked calmly, "What, exactly, do you mean by that? How exactly do they change positions?"

Her shoulders drew up to her ears, her chin drooping in shame. "They...when I'm looking at a word, the letters move around. Switch places. So that the word I'm looking at isn't always the word I'm reading," she explained.

His expression was still calm, like he wasn't shocked or disgusted or horrified by her admission. But a strange look had come to his face, like something she had just said had...clicked in his mind, like he had just figured something out.

"Have you always had this issue with letters?" he asked quietly.

She bit her lip, her face going red with humiliation. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "It first started happening when I learned to read...some of the letters changed around, and I started saying other words, the wrong words. I...Our Grandmother wasn't...she  yelled at me for 'not paying attention'..." Though that was the least she had done. She nearly flinched when she remembered the ruler to the top of her hands.

A muscle ticked in Rhysand's jaw, and for a moment, Eira swore she saw the hint of anger flare on his face. "How old were you?" he asked, almost growling out the words.

"Four," she said quietly, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw a flash of fury on his face. But it was gone so quickly, she couldn’t be sure.

"So your grandmother punished you for this?" he asked, his voice almost too calm. Like he was holding in some very strong emotions

"Yes," she admitted quietly. "She...she would yell at me and hit me with a ruler. On the fingers." She could still feel that stinging pain, the white-hot sharpness of it. How it had felt when…

"And your parents knew about this?" he asked, his voice low and careful. Like he was trying desperately to keep from letting whatever anger or fury he was feeling slip out.

"No, I...I didn't tell them," Eira confessed. "I was afraid they'd be angry at me for being stupid, because I kept getting words wrong and couldn't read right....and I was afraid Grandmama would get really angry...and I was afraid that I deserved it. Because I can't read like I should."

Rhys was quiet for a long moment, his eyes staring off into space. His hands were clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists. The muscles in his jaw were jumping, like he was trying very hard to keep in the anger that was burning under his skin.

"The letters...the letters that keep changing places...that's a common learning disability, Eira," he finally said quietly. "It's...if you had been born Fae, it would have been caught when you began your lessons and it would have been managed."

Eira’s head jerked up, a small, almost desperate hope flaring in her chest. "Y-you mean...that’s normal? You…you’ve seen others with that issue before?"

Rhys nodded, and there was a grim anger in his eyes as he said, "Yes. And there are ways to help with it, spells to manage it...and it never, never involves a child being yelled at and hit with a ruler."

Something tightened in her throat, and her eyes were suddenly hot. But she fought back the tears...she was not going to cry about this. She would not cry.

Rhys took a deep breath, his hands unfurling from the tight fists he had clenched them into.

He took one of the book, opened it and then did a complicated-looking hand movement over it. He handed it to her. She blinked.

The letters were...different. The script was different. The script was so crystal clear, the lines further apart...for the first time in her life it didn't feel like trying to swim upstream as she read the first few lines. It felt...nearly easy.

"There are different ways to transfigure the spell...different fonts, different colours...spacing. If this doesn't work, we'll try another one."

A shuddering breath left her, and the tears that she had been trying to hold back spilt down her cheeks. In only a few moments, he had done what her entire life of trying and struggling and praying to make sense of the words hadn't, making the script so clear like it was just suddenly easy when it had never been easy in her life.

"Thank you," she whispered to him, her hands trembling slightly as she held the book. "Thank you." She didn't know how else to say it, because it felt like he had given her something priceless...something she had always longed for, something so wonderful, that she didn't even have words for it, had no way of describing the depth of gratitude she felt. And Rhys’s gaze was so gentle as he looked at her.

"I’m just sorry that you've had to go your whole life without that," he murmured gently to her. "No one should struggle that much for something that should come so easily."

And it was that easy suddenly. 

The practical part of learning to control her magic…well that was another thing entirely. They were out in the garden, mostly because Eira was terrified of the idea of burning down the house. 

Rhys sat across from her, not looking worried in the slightest. "It's your magic. There is no need to be afraid," he told her seriously. "Don't be afraid. It will bend to your will. It will do what you want it to do."

She swallowed hard, trying to believe him. He was right....but it was so hard. She was so used to thinking of her magic as wild and uncontrollable, and the thought of letting loose the power that coursed through her veins, of letting it loose into the world...scared her.

"It killed four men," she disagreed quietly. "it burned down trees."

Rhys gently took her hand, his large calloused fingers wrapping around her smaller, paler ones. "I know," he murmured to her. "It did. But those men were trying to harm you, little one. That's why your magic acted as it did, because it was protecting you, because you were in danger. I’m here with you now, I’m not going anywhere. You won't hurt me. You have control. You have control."

Something tightened her chest, his words echoing through her like a soothing balm. He was right. She could control this, if she tried.

She exhaled slowly, breathing out the fear and doubt that was trying to wrap around her heart and soul. "I...I can do this."

A smile curved his lips, his fingers squeezing hers reassuringly. "Yes, you can," he told her, and let go of her hand. "Now, start simple. Don’t focus on anything specific. Just...let your magic flow."

She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes and reaching for her magic. It was like a roaring flame under her skin, just waiting, aching to be let loose.

She let it flow, let the heat of it fill her, let it course through her veins.

She could feel it. Could feel it spark over her skin. Could...

Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw the tendrils of her magic swirling around her hands. Little sparks snapped along her fingertips, and she had to fight to keep the magic contained.

"Very good," Rhys praised her. "You are doing well." She wet her lips, carefully pulling and pushing...concentrating her magic on her hands. It reacted nearly...rushing. Like it wanted to please her. Like it wanted to help her.

It was nearly like it was alive, like a living thing under her skin...like it wanted to please her. Like it was aching, desperate, to be used, to be commanded. It took a moment to get used to the feel of it, like this wild, feral thing that obeyed her commands, that rushed to her skin at her merest whim.

The lightning crackled between her open hands...and then she pushed it away.

When she pushed, it went. Slid back. Coiled back under her skin, a roiling heat that still burned under her skin, but obeyed her command. It obeyed her. That thought sent a shock through her, that this fearsome, powerful force that had killed 4 faes...it obeyed her. It listened to her.

A quiet, ragged gasp left her, her breath leaving her in a whoosh.

Rhys grinned at her, pride and pleasure gleaming in his eyes. “Very good,” he praised her voice, and his hand squeezed her own. “That was very well done.”

Eira’s hands were trembling violently, her breath shuddering out of her mouth as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She had done it. She had let loose that fearsome power, and she hadn't hurt anything, hadn't destroyed, hadn't killed. She had controlled it. She had controlled it.

"I didn't hurt you?"

Rhys just smiled at her, lifting a hand and gently running his fingers through her hair. "No," he assured her, his voice gentle. "You did very well. I knew you could do it."

A shuddering sigh left her, and even though she was shaking violently with the adrenaline, her heart was lighter than it had been in days. Because it had worked, she had done it, and she hadn't hurt him.

"The more you do it, the easier it will be," Rhys promised her. "Maybe you'll be able to light a candle with it even."

A small smile tugged at the edges of her lips, and she let out a watery laugh. "A candle?" she repeated, the words sounding almost absurd. The magic she had could burn down a forest. And he was talking about lighting a candle.

A chuckle left his lips, and he leaned over to press a comforting kiss to the top of her head. “Maybe in a few days,” he told her, and warmth blossomed in her chest. “When you get a bit more used to it. But you did well, Eira. You did verywell.”

She had never expected her lessons to be this… undramatic. She'd half-expected sparks, explosions, destruction.

What she hadn't expected was to feel something almost like peace once her magic was unleashed, like it was settling instead of trying to break free.

It was a strange, but almost comforting sensation. Like something had suddenly clicked inside of her, like a piece of her soul that she hadn't even known was missing had finally settled.

At least one thing in her life was…easy.

It was a novelty, she'd admit. To have something in her life that didn't feel like an endless struggle to understand, that didn't feel like everything was stacked against her.

She'd never had anything in her life that was effortless, that came easy to her. Something that made her feel...like she was good at it...like she was talented.

“There is something else that I wanted to talk to you about,” Rhys said quietly. “We received the formal invitation for Elain’s wedding.”

The mention of her sister's name made her blood go cold, and the little bubble of peace inside of her popped like a balloon, leaving her with nothing but a hollow, aching emptiness.

"Oh," she mumbled the word, the sound falling from her lips like a dead thing.

“If you don’t want to attend…neither of us will say a single thing against it,” Rhys said quietly.

The thought of going to this wedding, of seeing her sister walk down the isle, dressed all in white, her hair all done up, with a smile on her face...it was like someone had reached into her chest, wrapped their hands around her heart, and squeezed.

She had never imagined missing Elain’s wedding. But she wanted more than anything to stay far, far away from that stupid, awful event.

She never wanted to see her twin sister again. What did that say about her?

But even as she thought that, even as angry as she was...a part of her still loved her twin sister. A part of her still wanted to reconcile. And that thought made her chest ache with how badly she missed her, with how much she longed to just reach out and fix everything, to go back to how things had been before her sister had said those horrible, awful words to her.

Before she had tried to take her future from Eira. Her baby.

It was such a bitter thought, something that made her chest throb with remembered pain. Elain knew how much she had wanted a baby, how much she had dreamed of holding her own child in her arms...knew how desperately hopeful Eira had been.

And Elain had tried to take that from her.

“Eira,” Rhys said carefully, a look at her hands and she saw the lightning sparking at her fingertips. She willed it away. It disappeared.

She swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she clenched them tightly together, willing the sparks to quell. But the anger, the pain, they burned in her chest, like a flame inside of her, and she couldn't keep the words from coming out, from tumbling past her lips in a rush."All my life, all I ever wanted was to be a mother," she managed to force out, her voice shaking with unshed tears and pain. "All I ever wanted--all I longed for ...was to be a mother, and she, she..."

Her breath came out in a shuddering gasp, and she took a few deep breaths before saying, "She tried to take that from me. I...I would have had that baby by now, Rhys...I would have. And she was just going to...she wanted to take that from me."

“I know,” Rhys said softly. “I know.”

She closed her eyes tightly and took a few deep, shuddering breaths, fighting back the burning pain in her chest, the hot tears that were pricking at her eyes.

"Why would she do that?” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Why...why would she want to take them from me...?"

Take her babies…and take Azriel too. Because that’s what it felt like. 

Elain had wrapped him around her little finger so that Eira didn’t even have a chance.

“Jealousy,” Rhys answered with a sigh. “Her mind was a wasteland of jealousy, Eira. She was so used to having every male fall all over himself for her…and suddenly there was this vision that showed her twin sister with a male she herself found handsome. And Elain couldn’t have him…nobody could.”

It was an answer she had almost expected, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t make the pain any less real.

"She's my sister," Eira whispered. "How...how could she be so selfish? So cruel?"

And it hurt, it burned to even think, to wonder how her sister could have done that to her, had been willing to do that to her.

"I've miss her so much," Eira mumbled, the words like broken blades in her chest. "Every day, I miss her more than I can even put into words ...but how could I ever face her, after what she did...? How could I?"

It was like a storm in her chest, the pain and uncertainty, anger and anguish warring inside of her, and she fought to hold it all in, to keep it behind locked doors inside of her. So much anger...and it was warring with her grief. The two were at odds, at war inside her heart.

“Azriel said that he would come along if you wanted to go,” Rhys said quietly. “We would be there to…you wouldn’t need to face her alone. I am sure Cassian would even borrow you a sword if you wanted one.”

The thought of walking into that wedding, of being on display with the rest of her family...it sent a cold shudder through her. But if her friends were with her, if they were there...maybe she could do it.

Maybe she could go, just this once. Not to celebrate her sister, but to mourn her. Mourn the sister who had been, even if she was gone.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I think I….maybe I’d like that.”

She swallowed hard and looked up to meet Rhys’ eyes. “If I was to attend...if I was to go to the wedding...would you and Azriel be there with me?”

Rhys nodded immediately, his jaw clenching, a hardness in his eyes. "Of course," he assured her, his voice firm and brooking no discussion.

"Azriel will be there, and I'll be there, and Cassian will be there and your sisters damn well better be there too."

She swallowed hard, her heart beating a little bit faster at his words. The thought of walking into that wedding, knowing all eyes would be on her...but Rhys would be there. Azriel would be there. Nesta and Feyre.

Maybe she could do it. Maybe she could.

Even if she wasn’t quite sure that Azriel at Elaine’s wedding was a good idea.

But she pushed that jealousy down. She couldn't...she couldn't...she couldn't keep bringing that up. There must be a day someday in the future where she forgave him for...that. Where she was willing to move on.

She drew in a slow breath, but she couldn't keep the words inside of her. "How...how is Azriel doing?" she asked, her words quiet. "With...Elain, and the wedding...?"

Rhys stared at her. "Eira, I can honestly say, that I don't think that has even crossed his mind," he said quietly.

Her chest went a bit warm at that, at that knowledge. At the thought that Azriel was...fine. That Azriel didn’t...care about Elain's wedding in the slightest.

But a small part of her, a part of her that almost frightened her, couldn't help but wonder....

"It hasn't?" she repeated, and she cursed the thread of hope in her voice.

Rhys studied her for a second or two, as if he, too, could hear the hope in her voice, the need. “No,” he said simply. “It seems that all my spymaster cares about is Elain's twin sister."

***

Azriel should probably consider himself lucky that Nesta hadn't used Ataraxia to cut his throat. Granted, as she had said, the only reason why she didn't was because Eira would be upset if he died.

No, he supposed that was a pretty good reason not to kill him. "And if you ever treat my sister like that again, I'll wring your neck," Nesta hissed.

He didn't doubt that she would.

"Noted," he said, and he was pretty sure he heard Cassian snicker behind them

But what he didn't add was the fact that, if he had that horrible conversation with Eira again, he'd wring himself by the neck. For being such an idiot, such a stupid bastard.

If he ever saw her cry like she had, shake like a leaf because he had broken her heart, shattered it. 

"What are you going to do now?" Cassian asked him. "Anything new on your...wall?"

Ah, the wall.

The wall of doom, as the others had taken to calling it. Or more accurately, 'Azriel's obsessive chart of Eira's life'. 

He had taken the whole thing down. And then put it back up. Put it back up with everything else the shadows could tell him. 

"No," he said. How did he go forward with Eira? How did he...do this? How did he mend things, make things better? He was a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, a warrior and a killer. He had absolutely no idea how to deal with something like this.

"I would suggest you actually try to talk to her this time," Nesta said frostily. "And you owe her an apology as well, Cassian," she hissed.

Cassian let out a long sigh. "Alright," he said, before raising his hands in supplication at the look on Nesta's face. "Alright, I'll talk to her. Jeez, I said I would."

Azriel just suppressed a smile. He had a feeling Cassian had learned to tread very carefully around his mate, not wanting to spark a war between himself and the very, very scary Lady Death of the Night Court.

"That's usually my speciality though," he drawled. "Saying idiotic things. I think it's actually one of my gifts, really."

"Yeah, you've already displayed that gift for Eira, and it was quite a wonderful performance," she said dryly. "Perhaps you could try to make it up to her, hmm?"

"I'll...do my best," he mumbled, and he would, damnit. He would do his absolute best to make this right.

“So where are you going to take her next?” Cassian asked. “I would suggest somewhere you could actually talk to her.”

He'd thought a lot about it, for longer than he really should admit, and he had a few ideas.

"I was actually...thinking of a picnic," he confessed.

"A picnic?" Cassian asked, his voice almost disbelieving. "You and a picnic. Those two words...I never thought I'd hear them in the same sentence, Az."

Azriel just scowled. "What's wrong with a picnic?" he asked, his voice a bit defensive.

"Picnics are for romance," Cassian said, his voice almost gleeful with how teasing it was. "You're going to have a romantic picnic? Is there going to be wine, and roses, and candlelight?"

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at that...and he had to admit, some of those things actually sounded rather nice...but that didn't mean he was going to admit that.

"Eira doesn't drink wine," Nesta said drily..

Azriel nearly cursed, but caught himself. Right, Eira didn't drink. At all.

Damnit. There went the wine.

"No wine, then," Azriel grumbled. "No wine, but it's still going to be a very romantic picnic, trust me."

"And where do you want to have your very romantic picnic?" Cassian drawled.

"I thought the River Bank at the House," Azriel admitted. She would be comfortable there...If she wanted to get away from him...she easily could.

Cassian actually looked a bit surprised at that. "Huh," he said, sounding a bit impressed against his will. "Didn't think of that. She'll...feel safe there. Plus, there are a few beautiful spots there..."

He swallowed back a bit of the anxiety that he felt. "So...you're saying it's a not completely idiotic idea?"

"It's...definitely a good idea," Cassian conceded. "As long as you actually talk to her this time.  “

"What are you thinking for food?" Nesta asked him pointedly.

She was asking him that question as if he actually knew how to cook anything other than a piece of meat over the fire. He was a court-trained, highly skilled warrior, a Carynthian. He could fight, intimidate, and kill. Asking him to cook? That was a completely different thing…

“I’ll have the shadows pick up some things from a restaurant in the city…that way it will actually be edible,” he answered. 

"I feel like that's probably a very good idea," Cassian said, and Azriel could hear the poorly concealed laughter in his voice.

"Shut up," he growled, but there wasn't enough actual heat in his words. 

“She likes raspberries,” Nesta told him graciously. “She once nearly made herself sick by eating so many of them…If you can get any, she will be delighted,” she promised him. 

Raspberries. He could do raspberries. 

The shadows procured raspberry tarts. He also had them pass Eira a note, asking for her company that evening, receiving her agreement quickly. 

She was giving him a chance. 

Which was how he ended up in the River House with a Picnic Basket, a blanket and a dream.

He chose a place on the bank of the river, a place that was secluded and quiet. A place where he could show Eira that he hadn’t come here to ambush or intimidate her, but to talk to her, to listen.

And then he found her. Waiting for him on the back porch, a book in her hand. 

She hadn't heard him yet, hadn't even noticed him.

He paused, for a moment, taking her in like this.

Beautiful. Even when she was just sitting there, reading and unaware that he was there, she was so damn beautiful that it made him ache inside.

Azriel found his heart catching at the sight of her, the sunlight dappling down through the trees, and the look of near serenity on her face as she read.

He almost didn’t want to disturb her, wanted to just let her remain there as she was, but he pushed down the urge and slowly stepped towards her.

"Eira?" he asked quietly, and it was almost a crime how lovely she looked in the sunlight as she lifted her head from her book, her blue eyes widening in surprise to the sight of him.

"Azriel," she said, her voice soft, and something in his heart twisted as he saw her hands tighten almost imperceptibly on the cover of her book. He swallowed hard, his heart clenching tight at the sight of it.

"I, um," he mumbled, forcing the words from his stupid, clumsy tongue. "I..." He swallowed hard, "I...brought a few things," he finished lamely, setting the picnic basket down at the foot of the porch.

"A picnic," she said, and he could hear the almost faint wonder in her voice. He dared to look up towards her, and saw her watching him, her eyes slightly wide, her lips parted.

"Yes," he said quietly, forcing words past the lump in his throat. "A...picnic," he repeated. "I, um...I thought...If you were willing…"

She was watching him, her blue eyes wide with surprise, the sunlight dappling down across her head, making parts of her braid gleam in gold.

He swallowed once more, his heart clenching in his chest. "I...I wanted to talk to you," he finally managed to confess. "If that’s...if that’s okay."

There was a moment of silence, and he felt like he was going to choke as he watched the different emotions flicker across her eyes.

Surprise, trepidation, hope, and more surprise...and there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, as if his words made her scared. Terrified. And he couldn’t blame her, really, not when he had royally messed up last time.

But she slowly nodded, her lips barely curving in the ghost of a smile. “Y—yes,” she said quietly. “I’d like that. Talking, I mean.”

"WIll you come with me?" he asked her, holding out his hand and her smile widened.

He caught a flash of something in her eyes before she slowly stood up, setting her book aside and lifting her own hand to meet his.

He fought the urge to let out a long sigh of relief or to clutch her hand too tightly as she slowly stepped down off the porch, and he gently led her over to the blanket that he had already laid out by the river.

He let go of her hand and watched as she slowly sat down on the blanket, tucking her legs underneath her. Her blue skirts puddled around her and he wondered how she managed to look elegantly while doing it. He stayed standing for a moment, just watching her, taking in the sight of her sitting there on the blanket that he had laid out for her.

Slowly, he also sank down into a sitting position, careful to keep some space between them. He didn’t want to...to startle her, overwhelm her, make her run.

He busied herself with unpacking the food.  

"I love a picnic," Eira said quietly. "When we were still at the cottage, sometimes we ate outside just for a change of scenery. Don't get me wrong, it was...the winters were horrible. But not everything was," Eira whispered. "When we were glamoured...I missed it sometimes. I didn't know what to do with my time when we had staff again. When I didn't need cook, didn't need to harvest vegetables and we could just buy them..."

He had to swallow at that confession. He hadn’t...he hadn’t even realized that she would miss those days, even though of course she would. She’d had...had a life at that cottage, a family, a home.

Even when they had struggled…she still had those things. 

"What do you miss the most?" he asked her curiously, handing her a plate and cutlery, and she thanked him with a smile. 

She went quiet for a moment as she thought about that question, her head tilting faintly to the side before she spoke again.

“I think…” she began, her voice a mere murmur. “I think I miss the animals the most. We were at the edge of a forest...you could see deers sometimes...sometimes stray cats...I loved the stray cats. There was this one...it was ancient. Only had half a tail," she recounted with a laugh. "It used to come visit me when I was gardening...Sun itself in a spot and keep me company, listen to me singing...let me pet it however much I wanted."

He could almost picture that image. Could picture her, singing a soft, quiet song, as a cat sat in a patch of sunlight, enjoying her music.

He found himself wondering...he found himself wondering what other secrets Eira was hiding. How many more things he didn’t know about her. How many things he had never realized, never even thought about before...

"Do you actually enjoy gardening?" he asked her, unable to help himself.

She blinked at that question, looking...surprised he had asked. Then she nodded, a small smile on her lips. "Yes," she confessed. "It was a part of my chores, a part of survival, but I enjoyed it. It was..." She paused as if she almost wasn’t sure how to explain herself. "It was soothing," she confessed quietly. "Gardening...it keeps my hands preoccupied. Busy. And you get a result at the end of it... It...it was good."

"I couldn't hunt...I have absolutely no talent for that...so when Feyre started hunting...I made sure that she didn't need to worry about anything else," she explained.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat as she explained more about how their lives had been at the cottage, at how they had divided their tasks and...how they had survived.

How she had kept Feyre from having even more weight on her shoulders. Had taken that weight onto her own.

He wanted to ask her, wanted to ask her if it had been hard. If the weight of surviving had been too heavy for her.

But he...he didn’t want to push her. Didn’t want to bring up unpleasant memories, not when they finally had a chance to talk to each other.

"And you?" she suddenly asked, jolting him from his thoughts.

"You...you train and fight," she said quietly. “Is...is that soothing for you? Can you just...turn off your brain that way?"

It was a quiet, direct question, and it sent a shard of a shiver down his spine.

He wanted to lie to her about it. Wanted to say that yes, hunting and killing creatures and people was soothing, that he could turn off all of his mind and become the living, breathing blade that he was.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to her. He found his throat bobbing as he swallowed once more, trying to find the right words to explain himself that wasn’t just excuses.

"Not always," he confessed quietly. "There are nights...there are nights when I can sleep, when I can just let go. When the killing is necessary to keep the people I care about safe," he said.

He was about to go on when his throat was dry, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. "But...there are nights when I can’t," he continued, his voice a painful whisper. "There are nights when the killing is not necessary, and I can’t…I can’t just forget after it."

It was the most open he had ever been with anyone, including his brothers, about the truth of what was inside him.

But with Eira...he wanted to be open. Wanted to be honest. He wanted her to finally know how broken he was, how damaged he was, and see if she would still look at him with those beautiful, wide blue eyes of her and not turn away.

To his surprise, she didn’t. Instead, she...she slowly nodded, that quiet understanding in her gaze.

The expression in her eyes...she understood. She understood how broken he was. How he was nothing more than a weapon. A killing machine in the shape of a male. She understood that brokenness and she wasn’t running.

“You should have a hobby,” she said finally, and there was a soft, teasing lilt in her voice. Surprising him. He expected hesitation, coldness maybe…but she was clearly serious about giving him a chance. 

“A hobby,” she repeated, her voice still so very teasing. “Something to help you wind down, to relax, and to...to keep your mind occupied. Instead of just going to the training rings all the time like Cassian always says you do. It's why I garden, why I sew...why I embroider," she answered honestly. "It calms me. Feyre paints...I do that." He nodded, feeling the lump in his throat growing even larger. 

She sewed and embroidered and gardened. And she did them all to try and calm her mind and heart, to distract herself even a little from how broken the world really was, to try and make something beautiful.

"I like listening to music," he said quietly.

"Like the symphony," Eira recounted and he nodded.

Which reminded him of the harp he had given her...

"I am sorry about the harp," he blurted out.

"Why?" Eira asked him, shock evident on her face. "Why would you be sorry about..."

"I didn't even think about that fact that giving you the same thing that you lost to keep your family from starving was maybe not...the kindest thing to do."

Eira froze for a moment, something like shock flickering across her face before she let out a quiet, somewhat shaky laugh, and he felt a cold ball of fear form in his stomach. She was…she was upset. Surely she had to be upset. But her voice was level and soft when she spoke.

“You really think that it…that it bothers me?” she asked, incredulity in her voice. “That I care that you gave me the same instrument that I had to sell?”

He opened his mouth, ready to tell her that yes, that was exactly what he thought, and that he had hurt her, but she cut him off.

“Azriel,” she said quietly, and the way she said it, the way his name rolled over her tongue, was like a gentle caress. His thoughts stuttered to a halt and he stared at her.

“I…I didn't think twice about that,” Eira confessed quietly. “I am so happy about the harp. About the fact that you gave it to me, and the fact that I can play again, do something that I loved...”

That confession...it was shattering him. He had worried over that harp, over the fact that he had probably reminded her of the worst parts of her life without even realizing it, but here she was, telling him that it hadn't even crossed her mind.

“I…" Azriel swallowed hard, his throat painfully tight, but he forced himself to speak anyway. "Then…you’re not…you’re not upset with me about it?" he asked again, his heart clenching in hope, in terror, in prayer, and she simply shook her head, her eyes still filled with that quiet wonder.

“No,” she murmured to him, her voice so soft and gentle. “No, I am not. How could I be? How could I be upset about the fact that you gave me something that I love, when you did it out of kindness, out of some attempt to make me happy?”

"I went about it wrong," he said quietly. "I should have...I should have actually talked to you. Asked you what you wanted...what you liked to do."

"We can talk. I like talking to you like this," Eira admitted quietly. "Getting to know you...I..."

He felt something in his heart tug at her admission, at her quiet confession. She…she liked talking to him. She wanted to get to know him better, to have him get to know her better.

He couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at his lips as he nodded, hope swelling in his chest.

He felt something in his heart tug at her admission, at her quiet confession. She…she liked talking to him. She wanted to get to know him better, to have him get to know her better.

"I wrote a list of questions," he admitted and she started laughing.

"Is that how the spymaster gets information?" she teased him.

He groaned in embarrassment, feeling the back of his neck starting to flush hotly as she just kept laughing. “Hush,” he muttered, his voice almost pleading. “Please, just hush."

Her laughter was like music, that was all there was to it. It sent something warm and golden through his heart, made him almost dizzy with how lovely it was, and he found himself wanting to hear more of it.

To hear her laugh just like that all the time, for the rest of his life...that would be Heaven.

"What's your favourite colour?" he asked her, and the amusement glinted in her eyes.

“Blue,” Eira answered, honestly, a blush rising on her cheeks. 

Blue.

He hadn’t known that. 

"And yours?" she asked him.

For just a moment he came up empty. What was his favourite colour? Black? "Blue," he answered, honestly. Blue. Blue because it meant coming home. The colour of the sky...of his siphons...of Eira's eyes.

"Favourite Food?" he asked her, clearing his throat.

She had to bite down on her lower lip before answering, trying and failing to keep her amusement from overwhelming her completely. “Favourite food?” she echoed faintly. “You really…a question like that is on your list?”

To his mortification, he was blushing now. He had made that list, trying to come up with as many possible good questions as he could think of. And of course, he had also put some of the stupidest and most mundane questions he could think of on that list as well.

"It is,” he muttered awkwardly, and she outright laughed again, burying her face in her hands this time, but it was a fond sort of laughter. Like she thought the question was ridiculous but was amused and charmed by his effort anyway.

"I want to know you," he admitted quietly.

Her laughter stopped, like she’d suddenly been stunned into silence. She slowly pulled her hands down from her face, that blush on her cheeks still there as she met his eyes.

“I…you do?” she whispered in surprise, and there was a trace of…something in her voice. Hope, perhaps. A hope that he meant what he said.

“Yes,” he answered her quietly, the word coming out in a strangled whisper as a wave of heat washed through him. He meant it. He meant it more than anything.

"Mine is this Illyrian candy that involves nuts and honey," he admitted. "It's so sweet that your teeth get stuck together."

Her eyes widened at that, and her lips parted in surprise. He could practically see her trying to imagine just how sweet those nuts and honey had to be, to make your teeth stick together.

Then she let out a soft laugh, the sound like music to his ears. “Oh goodness,” she muttered. “That sounds like…that sounds like something that tastes amazing and gives you a stomach ache at the same time.”

“It is,” he confessed, and he found himself smiling as he did so. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten…and it makes me feel sick to my stomach if I eat too much of it.”

"Raspberries for me," Eira admitted to him. "I once nearly got myself sick with eating so many of them too."

"Look in the basket," he told her.

She squealed. Squealed as she saw the tarts, her eyes widening in surprise before a look like ecstasy washed over her face. His heart stopped in that moment, his breath catching in his throat as this beautiful female made such an adorable sound over pastries that he had brought, for her.

The shock and surprise on her face lasted for only a moment, before being replaced with absolute and childish joy, and he found a strangled chuckle tearing from his throat.

She’d…she’d squealed. Squealed and made an expression like a happy child on Solstice morning at the sight of raspberry tarts. All at something he had brought.

"How?!" she demanded.

He found himself grinning at her excitement, that childish reaction to seeing a gift in a basket. “I have my ways,” he told her with a hint of smugness in his voice, but he felt a strange rush of pride at the fact that he’d managed to surprise her like this. At the fact that he had given her something that would make her reaction so…adorable.

“In this case, the way was your sister.”

She laughed at that, the sound bright and happy.

[greynatomy]

worth the wait?

leah williamson x reader

i know i said that i retired from writing but i couldn’t not put one out for a pretty girl’s birthday, even if it’s a bit very late. happy birthday @totaly-obsessed <3

also credit to the show ‘scorpion’ for a bit of the plot and dialogue. it’s what inspired me to write this

———

The last three years was nothing short of a roller coaster. You moved to England from your small apartment in New York to work for the government — after being caught hacking into all their data, only telling them that you’d tell them exactly how you did it and wouldn’t be charged with anything.

In the first couple of weeks of getting settled in your new place, you’ve been going to the same little diner every single day. The diner was busier than normal, but you still took up a whole table to yourself, folders littered on top as you typed away on your laptop. 

You didn’t mind how busy it was, all in your own world until a figure slid into the booth right in front of you. You look up, eyes blinking rather quickly.

“Uh, I don’t know you. Why are you sitting there?”

Shocked by your words, she spits out a venomous apology, sliding out of the booth.

“I can see by your facial expression that you aren’t rather pleased by how I talked to you. People have told me that I have a very low EQ and don’t know how to deal with… emotions because I do not feel as one normal human does.” 

The woman sits back down in the booth in front of you, face now showing an amusing expression.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N Y/LN.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s interesting to meet you.”

“It’s interesting to meet you too.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence as you kept staring at her. She shifts in her seat, not knowing the reason for your stare.

“You never told me your name.”

Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! Sorry, it’s Leah, Leah Williamson.”

“Okay.” You give her a tight lipped smile, going back to your work.

Leah was unsure of what to do. All she knows was that she saw a pretty girl in a crowded diner taking up a whole booth and next thing she knows, she’s sat across from her.

As she works up the courage to start a conversation, she’s lightly shoved deeper into the booth.

“Jen has a case for us so pack up.” The person is gone before she could steady herself.

“I apologize for Natalie’s demeanor, but this is urgent. Goodbye.”

Both of you didn’t know, but that would be the start of a very complicated relationship. The pair of you have gotten close over time, you even going to games to support her even if it’s not your favorite place to be.

You’ve also gotten close to some of Leah’s teammates, well you tried to keep your distance, but they keep popping up beside you.

“When are you gonna ask the skipper out?”

You were currently doing a crossword puzzle — not really a puzzle because all the answer were much to easy for your very smart brain — when one Katie McCabe came up to stand next to you after the game.

The team had just won against Aston Villa and are getting showered and dressed before leaving the stadium.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, come on man! Stop being a wimp and ask her to dinner.”

“Right now?”

“Yes! Right now!”

Standing by the locker room, you wait for the blonde to make an appearance.

“Y/N! Glad you could make it!” She walks up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck, pulling you into an embrace.

“Of course. You gave me tickets and- and you’re playing. You played great by the way.” You stutter a bit, always getting taken aback when she hugs you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Hey, uh, listen. May-maybe you’d want to—”

“—Hey, Leah!”

Your words were interrupted when a girl who had on gear from the opposing team walked up to where you stood with the girl mentioned.

“Jordan! What’s up?”

“Just wondering if you were still up for later?”

“For sure.”

“Okay! It’s a date!”

“It’s a date.”

Watching her walk away, you were frozen. Your plan was now thrown out the window.

“What were you saying?”

“Oh, just that I am, uh, going now. Goodbye.”

You turn your heels and speed walk your way out of the building, leaving a confused Leah behind.

Heating footsteps catching up behind you, you see Katie beside you.

“So? How’d it go?”

“Great, in fact. She has a date.”

“That’s amazing!”

“With Jordan.”

“Wait, what?”

You didn’t say any more, hopping into your car and driving off.

The Arsenal women hadn’t seen you in a week since you told Katie about Leah’s date. No one bothered to ask Leah because one; they didn’t know how to approach the situation and two; you asked them not to say a word.

You were stuck in your apartment as far as anyone knew, locked yourself away from everyone and everything other than your work and coworkers.

Leah and Jordan’s relationship didn’t last long, couple months at most and everything was mostly back to normal between the two of you. 

As much as Leah’s friends love and care for Leah, they grew fond of you too and didn’t like how she was treating you like some second option.

Of course you were completely oblivious, emotions are difficult for you to understand, not knowing why people keep telling you to be cautious with your heart.

Going into year two of knowing Leah, you’ve been to your fair share of dates of your own. Failed dates are what you would say they were because they never understood how your mind works/never took the time to understand you. 

“Hey, mate! It’s good to see you!”

Turning around, you spot Katie with a shopping basket of her own.

“It’s been a while since you’ve come around.”

“I have been very busy as of late.”

Before Katie could say a reply, she was interrupted by a familiar person.

“Hey, Katie! Did you happen to already grab the tomato sauce?”

Leah Williamson in all her glory, except she wasn’t alone. Your eyes tracing her figure from her eyes all the way down her arm to where her hand was, clasped with another.

“Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here bud!”

‘Bud?’ You thought. ‘A very platonic name to call someone.’

“Leah.” You turn back to Katie. “It was very nice to catch up with you Katie. Goodbye.” With that you walked away.

“What’s her problem?” Leah asked, eyebrows furrowed as she watched your figure become smaller. Katie just sighs, rolling her eyes and also walking away from Leah.

This year was already starting way different from the last. You’ve locked yourself up, not bothering to leave your apartment unless it was for work.

And Leah? Well, she’s been preoccupied with her new relationship, pushing you off to the side once again. 

You were spiraling, not that you knew, not understanding what you were feeling so you hopped in your car to go for a drive.

Gripping onto the steering wheel with tears streaming down your face, you step on the pedal harder, not aware of anything around you. Next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

Back at the warehouse, Natalie was wondering where their leader could have gone, surprised how you weren’t there with them as you’re always early. The rest of the team had no idea where you were so she called the very last person she wants to call.

“Nat?”

“It’s Natalie, Williamson.”

“Uh, Okay. Natalie? Why are you calling?”

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No. Why?”

“Goodbye.”

Leah quickly gets out of bed where her girlfriend laid with her.

“Where are you going?” She asked, only to be ignored, the sound of the door slamming echoes through the house.

“Have you found her?” Was the first thing Leah asks as she barges into the warehouse where the team, minus you, gathered.

“You are not welcome here.” A man walks up to grab her arm.

“Let go of me. She’s my friend.”

“Some fucking friend you are then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

The arguments escalate, voices are being raised not noticing a figure walk through the door on unsteady feet. 

“What is with all the shouting?”

That’s when they see your disheveled face, eyes bloodshot from what looks like crying. It was silent for a moment before they all started shouting again, this time directed at you.

���Where have you been?”

“We’ve been trying to reach you for so long!”

“Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”

“Shhh! You’re all too loud, thank you.”

Leah stomps over to you, grabs your hand and pulls you up to your room.

“Why are you trying to pull my arm out of its socket?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Yes? You were pulling too aggressively.” You state, walking to your closet to grab a new shirt.

“Everyone was worried about you.” You exclaims, hands waving to show how angry she is. “I was worried about you!”

“You were?” You ask, your fingers stopped buttoning your shirt halfway up.

Taken aback at your confused expression, she carefully steps towards you, trembling hands helped you finish the last buttons of your shirt.

“Of course I was! You’re my best friend.” She runs her hands from your chest, past your neck, resting on both of your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothingly.

“If you are, then have you noticed this is the first time you’ve said a word to me in about three months?” Your voice was soft, tears on the verge of falling as you looked into Leah’s eyes.

“What?”

“You’ve not even looked my way when we happen to be in the same room together.”

“What-what do you want me to say here?”

“What I want you to say is why you always avoid me once you get into a relationship? And don’t give me that shit where-where she’s your girlfriend and-and she comes first because I was always pushed to the side with Jordan and now with whoever you’re with now.”

“That’s not true!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. But don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.”

You grab your jacket and walked out of the room, leaving Leah with her thoughts.

The drive home was quiet, the sounds outside of the car muffled. The key twists to unlock the front door, closing it behind her. Walking into the bedroom, she spots her girlfriend who’s sat on the bed, seemingly has not moved from when she left her.

“You okay?” Leah heard the question, but didn’t answer. So the woman pushed. “Where did you go? What happened?”

“Leave.” It was whispered too softly to be heard.

“What?”

“Leave!” Her voice stronger.

“What do you mean leave?”

“I mean leave my apartment. I-I don’t. I don’t know, but I wanna be alone.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Please.” Vulnerable. That’s how she sounded, almost pleading for the woman to do as she says. Getting the hint, she hastily leaves, grabbing all her things.

Finally alone in her apartment, Leah lets the tears fall, the weight of the day felt heavy on her shoulders.

‘I was always pushed to the side.’ Your voice echoes in her head. Did she push you aside? But she didn’t mean to. Right?

She doubted herself, unsure of what was true or not, even if she was the one who lived it.

Months passed with no communication between the two friends former friends. Well, Leah tried, texting, calling, sending letters and was met with nothing but radio silence. Leah isolated herself. She barely slept, went to training and home right after, not going out with friends to celebrate after a win. If she did go out, she finds herself staring at the entrance, hoping you would walk through.

You were the same.

You stared at the computer screen, eyes flicking from one thing to another. The numbers and letters blurred together, seemingly losing all meaning, but that was okay. Meaning wasn’t the goal. Distraction was. 

Your coworkers, your friends grew worried. They could see the dark bags that formed under your eyes, knowing you haven’t been sleeping much.

They never brought up Leah. She was the she-who-shall-not-be-named.

An envelope being placed on the keyboard snaps you out of working, seeing it was addressed to you. Opening it up, you see it was an invitation. A wedding invitation from two of your friends.

‘It was about time.’ You thought.

So here you were, sitting in your seat, which was conveniently right in front of Leah’s. Of course she’d be here. The guests mostly consisted of her friends as this was a teammate’s wedding.

Leah couldn’t keep her eyes off of you, even if it was just the back of your head. The bride stood at the altar, tears falls down her face as she sees her bride walk down the aisle.

At the reception, you stood off to the side, a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people around you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Turning towards the voice, you find yourself standing face to face with Leah and man does she look beautiful.

“I-I don’t know how to dance.”

“That’s okay. Just follow my lead.”

She grabs both of your hands, placing them on her waist as her arms rest over your shoulders.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for months.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t bother replying back? I even sent letters. Who even sends letters to anyone during this time anymore?”

Your purse your lips, not knowing what to say.

“Why? I’ve been trying to-to hopefully right my wrongs, but I can’t do that when you won’t even talk to me.” Leah’s voice held desperation. “I mean you can’t even look at me.” 

Your eyes flick up to meet hers.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time we talked?”

‘…don’t come running towards me once this relationship of yours tragically ends just like the last time.’ She nods.

“I was tired of being the second choice. Tired of being pushed aside everyone some other girl catches the slightest bit of attention from you.” You remove your hands from her waist and take a step back to distance yourself a bit.

“I want to state for the record that I am not under the influence of any substance. I’m just stating an irrefutable fact. I pushed you away… because I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since shortly after we met. And I’ve spent years trying to process how that should be handled. Perhaps it’s not something that is supposed to be handled. Maybe it-it’s something that just is.” You take a breath shaking your head, a bit overwhelmed with the confession you just made. “And I-I know you-you don’t feel the same as I do. And that’s okay. But I-I just wanted you to know.”

“Y/N.” Leah says softly, taking a step closer. “I’m in love you to too.”

You lick your lips. “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“I have an idea.”

The married couple decided to sneak away for a bit, finding a supply closet in their venue. Opening the door, their eyes go wide.

“I guess Leah is no longer Voldemort.”

“Close the door.” Leah says, putting the shoulder strap of her dress back in place.

“Hey, guys. Why’d you guys sneak—” Alessia gasps. “What am I looking at?”

“Close the door!” You state louder, buttoning up your shirt, hair disheveled.

“What are you all looking at?” Katie asks walking towards the group, looking into the closet. “Well it’s about damn time.”

“Anyone else want to come by? How about Kyra?”

“What’s up guys?” Kyra comes up, biting into a pastry that was provided.

You both quickly fix yourself up, a bit embarrassed with getting caught. Leah gives them all a stare, her captain stare, to let them know that they need to leave.

Once they’ve left, Leah wastes no time pulling your back in, her lips easily finding yours as she closes back the door.

“Glad Leah got her head out of her ass.” Katie states, walking up to the bar with the group.

“Right!”

[itsravenbitch]

how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death

a little backstory

— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay

kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.

my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.

the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.

now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘

so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.

— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)

— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.

— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.

so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).

another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.

so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.

HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.

— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.

as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.

when it manifested

the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.

the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.

as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?

so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”

then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.

this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!

anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.

i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂

so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.

feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

i feel like some of the fandom is a bit harsh on Monty... like, trauma is definitely not an excuse, but it does give pretty much all of his actions an understandable explanation?

like... Monty was actively being abused by Esther in practically any scene they were together. he said something she didn't like, and she yelled and grabbed him threateningly. both of the times she transformed him, from crow to human and then back again, she literally stabbed and ripped him up in a really gory way.

i sure wonder why an evil witch's familiar who's constantly treated like that would follow her orders even if he disagreed with them!!

and considering that Esther is potentially one of the only humans Monty came into contact with before meeting the others, and she's like that - he turned out alright, didn't he? he's petty, a bit rude sometimes, and takes things personally, but generally, he's a shockingly decent person.

yes, he didn't take it well when Edwin rejected him. but, as others have pointed out - how was Monty genuinely meant to know any better? he had lived his whole life as a crow in a cage too small for him, where the only person he knew was his extremely nasty and cruel owner. and then, all of a sudden, he's forced into a new body and has humanity thrust upon him against his will. he explicitly expressed this discomfort himself when Esther degraded him for getting "too emotional" for her liking.

"i never asked to be human. with all these... feelings."

even after the bitterness of the rejection, Monty never actually wanted to hurt the Dead Boy Detectives. turns out, he didn't even know that Esther's plan intended to end them completely, and was so horrified upon finding out that he made an attempt to lead them to safety, which was, by the way, putting himself at massive risk. Esther already punished him likely under the assumption that he just didn't put enough effort into manipulating them - can you imagine what she'd have done to him if she knew about his last-minute attempt to actually save them?

of course, i don't think Edwin was wrong for not forgiving Monty. he deserved that. Monty still helped in the scheme that aimed to destroy him. he also fully deserved to reject Monty if he wanted to (conversely, i do also see people say that Edwin "could have handled it better," but honestly, i don't know if it's just me not being neurotypical or something, but i genuinely do not see how Edwin could have been nicer about it? he was straightforward and polite, then afterwards, still tried to be Monty's friend until the betrayal.)

however, Monty was still very much a victim himself, and any harm he did was not from his own will, instead motivated by fear of the terrifying witch who had him fully reliant upon her, often through both verbal and physical force. Esther never hesitated to hurt him. he was painfully aware of that. she didn't care about him beyond how useful he could be. and when he failed at that, her reaction was violent.

but he didn't have anyone else.

[sidsinning]

To expand on Lucifer's neglect more

Yes he loves Charlie dearly, yes he showers her with his love and affection and semi-approval ("it's uh...got a lot of character!") when he sees her after all these years for the first time, yes he is desperately trying to switch back her reliance on Alastor to reliance on him- all these feelings are real and strong when she's right in front of him

-but when she isn't he is back in his own little world and rubber ducks. When he doesn't see Charlie in person she becomes white noise to him besides fleeting moments of courage and pining he gets to try and connect with her again. These are the moments where he regains a bit of clarity on just how fucked his family situation is.

He knows he has to maintain his connection with her somehow while also battling his own depression and urge to isolate and block off the rest of the world. They're in limbo of whether or not their relationship will finally be unrepairable, also expressed in how him and Lilith are not fully divorced, but still separated, with him still clearly loving her bc he still wears his wedding ring.

I love him, I think his love for Charlie is stronger than anything in his life, and I know he'd do anything he could for her (besides the one thing she asked which is very unluckily directly connected to his trauma)

But it's true that he doesn't listen to her, doesn't keep up with how her life is going, and has remained estranged from her as a child through her adult life for years for whatever reason (smtg implied through this flashback we don't understand yet, and/or his mental health issues)

For Charlie at this point, she's not a kid anymore, so just getting a call from him once in awhile is not enough if he still isn't addressing any of the issues that have built up between them, which has made her susceptible to being tricked by Alastor's empty words of praise and bonding

During Hell's Greatest Dad he isn't trying to address anything she's told him to, just trying to fix the surface level physical issues with the hotel to satisfy her- she looks uncomfortable the whole time he's trying to give her a sales pitch while smiling at everything Alastor says bc he is getting to her emotional needs, bc the bastard sees right through the father-daughter pair's issues

"I have angel powers! I can give you mountains of expensive things!"

"I'm always here for you! I'm so proud of you and all you've accomplished! We've grown so close bc I've always been by your side (unlike a certain someone 😇🐍🍎)"

He's excited when she asks him to come over, and we're excited for him to finally see his daughter he seems to love so much who doesn't talk to him, but from their conversation it is very much shown that Charlie is the one who has been more desperate to remain connected to him. She always updates him on her life when she can and asks him if he's paying attention to her- which he doesn't. Leading to her disappointment and/or annoyance with only jobs for her or random calls where he talks about smtg irrelevant.

I am a Lucifer stan through and through, but it is undeniable that he has not been a good dad despite being a good person. Now he's stepping up and reconnecting to Charlie again as she's fully accepting of him which is sweet.

It's also nice to see that helping Charlie and reconnecting with her is what brings him true happiness in life- bc of his anxiety and trauma he avoids the thing he knows deep down is the underlying cause of his unhappiness- his distant family and confronting their fractured relationship

So now that he's addressed a major part of the root of his depression, he stopped isolating himself, is being active, and given himself smtg productive to do, so his anxiety is down :)

Helping Charlie addressed how broken hearted he was over his family splitting, and restored the faith in humanity and good he lost after he was banished from Heaven and failed to redeem sinners when he tried

Shshsjdjdkfk I just love the characterization we get in just 2 23 minute episodes, even though the pacing is undeniably insanely fast and I would have preferred more time to marinate in it- but what can you do about capitalism vs. artistic freedom

[littleredwing89]

FAMOUS [PART THREE]

Bodyguard!Jason Todd x Singer!Reader

Summary: There was something about the way the dim light softened his features, made his usual tough-guy exterior seem more approachable.

Warnings: None really. Building tension between you & Jason.

A/N: So here is a very-very-VERY long overdue part 3 - Wooo!! 💛💛 if it makes you all feel better - I have completely written this story (40k words approx) so I’ll just post 1 or 2 chapters a week for you. I’m sorry this took so long my loves 😘😘 - sending all my love & please enjoy the next chapter - I really hope it was worth the wait.

Elle xoxo ❤️❤️❤️

———

HARDER THAN NECESSARY

———

***

The apartment was eerily quiet, the soft hum of the city beyond the window the only sound filling the space. You tiptoed across the hardwood floors, your oversized college sweater hanging loosely on your frame, hoping to make it to the door without disturbing the brick wall of a man currently asleep down the hall.

Just as your fingers brushed the doorknob, a loud click echoed through the room.

“Freeze,” Jason’s deep, gravelly voice commanded, his gun trained on you in an instant. His eyes were sharp, scanning you for a threat before recognition dawned on his face.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, raising your hands slowly. “Slow down, cowboy.”

Jason cursed under his breath, quickly holstering the gun. “Shit. Why are you sneaking around your own house?”

“Because!” you snapped, not wanting to admit why you were really sneaking out. The idea of telling him you were trying to repay him for the burger and chips he got you last week was… embarrassing, to say the least. “I am… I just…”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Why are you dressed sketchy?”

“It’s comfy, sue me,” you huffed, tugging at the hem of the oversized sweater.

“Don’t tempt me,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms and planting himself between you and the door like the human wall he was.

“Look, just go back to bed,” you sighed, trying to push past him. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

But Jason didn’t budge. “You’re not going out.”

“Yes, I am,” you shot back, frustration bubbling up. “Alone.”

Jason’s expression darkened, his body language shifting from casual to protective in an instant. “No—I’m going with you. Let me just get a jacket.” He reached for his brown leather jacket draped over the kitchen barstool.

“No!!” you blurted, panic rising in your chest. You hadn’t planned for him to come along. “I’ll be fine! I do this all the time on my own! I really don’t need an escort.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he grumbled, “This is why Mr. Sionis hired me. You can’t do this shit alone anymore—it isn’t safe.”

“Roman’s an overprotective idiot,” you muttered, arms crossed over your chest. “He doesn’t know the half of what I do.”

Jason sighed, clearly losing patience. “We either go together, or you don’t go at all.”

You looked down at the floor, knowing you were defeated. All you wanted was to repay Jason’s kindness from before, but now it felt like the universe was against you. Keeping your emotions in check, you let out a long breath. “I’m not used to this…” you muttered.

Jason softened just a little, sensing your frustration. “Let me go with you. I’ll pay. If we pretend it’s a date, people are less likely to even recognise you.”

Your face flushed pink at his suggestion. “What?!”

Jason fumbled, his own face heating up. “Just—just pretend! Look, I’m here to stay, okay? Mr. Sionis wants you safe, so we should probably get to know each other better. I mean, I am living in your box room down the hall.”

You shot him a look. “It’s not a box room—I gave you a room with a nice view of Gotham.”

Jason smirked, clearly amused. “You’re deflecting.”

With a dramatic sigh, you threw your hands up. “Fine. But I’m driving.”

Jason tossed you his keys, surprising you. “Don’t scratch it. I just got it fixed up.”

You smirked, twirling the keys in your hand. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt your baby.”

Jason’s face flushed slightly as he looked away. “You better not, or you’ll be paying for her next paint job.”

You grinned mischievously. “Her? Does she have a name, tough guy?”.

Jason ignored your teasing, shrugging on his jacket. “Come on—I thought you were hungry.”

Stifling a laugh, you headed out the door, calling back over your shoulder, “Yes, sir.”

Jason bit back the smile threatening to spread across his face, trying to ignore the way that “sir” made his stomach twist in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

——

The diner was quiet, the low hum of neon lights flickering above as you and Jason sat across from each other in one of the old booths. When the food arrived, Jason reached for his wallet, but before he could pull it out, you quickly slipped your card over the machine with a smug smile.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jason grumbled, clearly caught off guard.

“I know,” you replied, giving him a teasing smile. “But it’s nice to repay the favor, y’know?”

Jason gave you a rare, small smile. “Thanks.”

You nodded, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your chest. “However, if I’d known that, I would’ve ordered more,” Jason teased, leaning back in his seat.

You rolled your eyes, playfully scoffing. “Jerk.”

“Eh, sue me.”

You tried to focus on your food, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jason as he casually leaned back in his leather jacket, looking more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. There was something about the way the dim light softened his features, made his usual tough-guy exterior seem more approachable.

Jason noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow. “What? Is there something on my face?” He wiped at his chin, checking for stray ketchup.

Flushing red, you shook your head quickly. “No! No… sorry, I just zoned out. I was thinking about a new song I’m working on.”

Jason smiled, the edges of his lips tugging upward. “Yeah, I heard some of it last night. Or, well, early this morning.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh shit, sorry—I didn’t realise the noise carried that far down the hall.”

Jason shrugged, his smile still lingering. “It’s not a complaint. It sounded great.”

You were about to say something in return, something sweet and appreciative, but Jason—being Jason—slurped his drink loudly through the straw, completely killing the mood. You furrowed your brow, muttering, “Mood kill.”

Jason looked at you, confused. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said with a sigh, glancing at the clock. “We should probably head back.”

——

The drive back to the apartment was quieter than usual, but not uncomfortable. Jason had his elbow resting on the car door, his other hand draped casually on his thigh, looking out at the city lights. You glanced at him every now and then, trying to shake the lingering thoughts of how natural it felt having him beside you.

As you stopped at a red light, you couldn’t help but ask, “So, you really heard me working on the song last night?”

Jason nodded, glancing over at you. “Yeah. You’re good. Like… really good. You’re not just some pretty face in a band.”

You felt your face heat up. “Thanks, but you don’t have to say that just because you’re protecting me.”

“I’m not,” he said, his tone more serious than you expected. “I mean it. You’ve got talent. Don’t let Roman’s overprotectiveness make you forget that.”

The compliment caught you off guard. Jason wasn’t the type to throw praise around carelessly, and hearing it from him made it feel different. More genuine. You smiled, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Jason shifted slightly, as if uncomfortable with the sentimentality. “Yeah, well… don’t get used to it. I’ve got a tough reputation to keep.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound filling the car. “Sure, big guy. I’ll keep your secret.”

The rest of the drive passed quickly, and soon enough, you were pulling into the underground parking lot of your building. You killed the engine and sat there for a moment, neither of you moving to get out.

Jason was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat. “You really didn’t need to sneak out earlier, y’know. I get that you like your independence, but… I’m here to help. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

Your hand hesitated on the car door handle, his words sinking in. He wasn’t just talking about tonight. He was talking about more than that—about your habit of handling things solo, even when it wasn’t safe. You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the help… It’s just hard to adjust to having someone around all the time. I’m used to taking care of myself.”

Jason watched you carefully, his voice softer than before. “I get it. But you don’t have to anymore. Not with me.”

You glanced over at him, meeting his steady gaze. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he wasn’t just saying it because it was his job—he meant it, and that scared you a little.

“Thanks, Jason,” you said quietly, feeling the weight of his words.

He gave a small nod, reaching for the door handle. “Come on, let’s get inside before Roman tracks us down.”

As you both stepped out of the car and made your way toward the elevator, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you. It wasn’t just the professional relationship anymore. It was different…in a good way.

When you reached your apartment, you turned to face Jason before unlocking the door. “Hey,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks for tonight… and for everything.”

Jason gave you a half-smile, his eyes softening just slightly. “Anytime, princess.”

***

[trendywaifus]

Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why

That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.

the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.

little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.

ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️

lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!

all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy

sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!

[dianneking]

The Bet - Brienne/Reader bookshop AU

Hi dears, in case you wanted some trashy, slightly angsty romance bookshop AU starring none other than the majestic Brienne of Tarth as well as yourself...well, look no further cause you're in the right place! It is with great pleasure that I present you

The Bet

Tags: Alternate Universe - Bookshop, Out of character, Angst with a happy ending, POV second person, Idiots in love, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Panic Attacks, Hints of past violence, Swearing. Word count: 5423.

AO3 link in the title above.

"Hello?" 

You did a double take when you lifted your eyes from the monitor. You didn't mean to, but the woman in front of you was not the kind of person that usually found her way to your tiny bookshop. 

She was...well, she was imposing , to begin with: taller than you'd ever seen a woman be, with broad shoulders that the t-shirt she was wearing did nothing to hide...and she looked clearly out of her environment among the shelves, standing with her back ramrod straight and her hands clasped in front of her, shifting from foot to foot, a frown taking over her face the more and more you looked at her without saying anything. As if she was waiting for your reply...

Oh!

Right.

"Oh uhm sorry, yes? Uh hi, welcome! What brings you to our bookshop today?" You cringed at your own awkwardness, but her expression didn't change too much from her frown.

"I lost a bet."

"A...bet?" Well this was unexpected. Surely your little shop was not so scary that getting into it was a dare? And this woman in front of you looked as if she'd be afraid of very little. She looked more disgruntled than scared anyways, light eyebrows corrugating over those piercing, beautiful blue eyes, lips pressing together as her nostrils flared out. She looked like the type of woman who spends more time in a gym than in a bookshop but apart from that, you had no idea what kind of bet would bring her here. Not that you were complaining. 

"Yes. I lost a bet and now I have to buy a book here. Surely you can provide me with one." She enunciated, as if she was talking to the dumbest person alive. You didn't care. Her accent was melting your insides into a pile of goo. 

I'd like to provide you with my number , your mind dreamily suggested as a reply, but you squashed it ruthlessly down. Not every woman with muscles is interested in other women, you reminded yourself. And even if she were, it didn't follow that she would be interested in you , anyway - the woman was the definition of Out Of Your League, with her short blonde hair, her chiseled jaw, her strong arms crossed on her chest…and you had lost your train of thought once again. 

"Hmmmm yes sure. Uhm not a fan of reading?" She bristled as if you had insulted her.

"Of course I read .” She scoffed “I make time to read daily. I simply don't waste my time with all of this..." she gestured around her, vaguely including the manga section and the horror shelves in her speech "...this fiction ." She spat the word as if it had offended her by its own existence.

Right.

If you had to be completely honest, if it had been anyone else insulting your beloved books, you'd have been all up in their faces. These weren't just books, they were your babies, your companions during the long days at work and your even longer sleepless nights, they were your best friends in a way no human ever could aspire to be. From the moment you had understood that in those pages lied countless stories, adventures you could partake in, emotions you had never felt, you were in love with reading already.

That's why you were working here, day after day, smiling up at the shelves filled to the brim, cursing the paperwork and cleaning and everything that kept you away from cracking open the newest release and losing yourself in its pages.

You loved your job because you loved books.

So anyone insulting your papery companions would be treated to your Cold Stare™ and Dismissive Attitude™.

And yet...you guessed this woman was clearly misguided in her dismissing all fiction with such a sneer. The fact that her sneer was so damn attractive didn't absolutely play any role in your sudden conciliatory attitude. Absolutely not. Nuh-huh. Not at all.

"Hello? Are you still there?" 

Well, fuck. Daydreaming of a client when they are in front of you. Great way to appear professional, and to make a good first impression on a gorgeous first-time client.

"Huh. Yeah, uhm sorry, I was thinking of possible recommendations that would suit your needs. What are your general interests?" You tried to patch things up only to be once again met with her frown.

"That is a useless endeavor. I will not enjoy wasting my time reading it anyways. Just give me one." 

"But you will read it?" 

"Of course! I did give my word."

Her word . Who said that nowadays? Giving your word? That was the stuff of old, of knights, of epic tales of heroism, of... fiction .

Oh.

You might have the right book for this hard, formal, stunning woman.

You stood up, surprising her with your sudden movement, but you didn't notice the way her eyebrows shot up, nor the way her eyes followed you as you made your way to the book, rising to your tiptoes to reach it.

You presented it to her like a hunter presents their caught prey.

"This." 

She gingerly caught it between her fingers, as if it could bite her, or worse, contaminate her with the debauchery of reading for pleasure.

"This?" 

"You'll like it." 

"Haven't you listened? I said I don't like fiction."

"I heard you. You didn't say you don't like it. You said you don't read it." You didn't even know where the confidence came from, but you were sure. This was the right book for her.

She seemed to be surprised by it. Surprised enough to give up her fight with a huff. 

"I guess I might as well get this since you're so sure about it." 

She started skimming the first pages as you rang it up for her, and you could see her frown slightly easing up.

You hid your smile, feeling it pulling at the corners of your mind as she absent-mindedly handed you her card, paid and wandered out the shop, her nose still in the book.

____

"So about that little bet we had, did you get the book?" 

Brienne didn't like admitting she was wrong. She sure as shit wouldn't admit that to Jaime of all people. She wouldn't hear the end of it.

But no matter all of her misgivings, she was enjoying that book. The plot had captivated her against her will, and more than one time she had found herself up until the early morning hours glued to the pages, lost in the description of adventures that had never happened if not in the fantasy of the author.

Such a far cry from her usual dry, factual fare of nonfiction books. Boring , some would call them, practical , she’d counter. You see, Brienne was a practical woman and she happened to like that about herself. And if people found her boring, it was their fault, not her own.

"Yes, I did get that" she replied in a bored tone, hiding her excitement below her well-polished mask.

She thought of the excitement on your face as you got the idea of suggesting this book to her. Of how smug you had looked when handing her the volume.

So sure she'd like it. And the most shocking aspect of it all was the fact that she did. 

And maybe, maybe in the privacy of her own mind she could admit to herself that she also thought of the way your shirt had risen as you reached for the book, exposing a sliver of your midriff as it did so. And the way your eyes had sparkled when you had handed her the novel, challenge and amusement and confidence mixing in your gaze. 

She had liked that too, just like the book, and just like the book she had liked it almost against her better judgment.

________

"How did you do it?"

Your heart skipped a beat as she charged into the shop, the bell ringing behind her long after she had entered, a thunderous frown on her face, the copy of the book she had purchased from you tightly held in her slender yet strong fingers.

She had gorgeous hands too…some people were just blessed with beauty, you thought. And you were blessed with being able to see and talk to such beauty.

The smile that climbed to your face was not your usual customer service one, but a warmer one, a special one just for her.

"So, did you like it?" 

She looked taken aback at your warmth, and you could see the faint beginning of a blush on her cheeks.

"I did, if you must know it!" She looked offended at the very thought. It was adorable.

"Oh I am so glad to hear that! The author is an emerging one, only has another one published, if you liked their style you might enjoy this too!"

"What for?"

"Why, as your next fiction book, of course. Isn't that why you came back?"

"I…maybe."

This time your smile got a definite hint of smugness in it.

"Are you going to fight me over this one too? Should I dare you to read this as well?"

"Listen here, don't get cocky. You just got lucky there. It won't happen again."

It did.

As a matter of fact it kept happening, and you fell into a sort of beautiful bookish routine. Depending on how long the book was and how busy she was, your favorite client would grace your shop with her presence once every couple of weeks or more, always putting up an offended front at having liked the fiction book you had suggested and yet always asking for another one.

Slowly but steadily she would start opening up about what she liked in them, allowing you to start collecting tidbits of information about her as well - she loved historical fiction, and fantasy too. She wasn't so keen on sci-fi and urban fantasy unless the plot was somehow worth it. She loved strong female main characters and complex character arcs. 

During the day she was kept busy from her work (law enforcement, she told you on one occasion, and didn’t go in more detail, you wondered if she was just a regular cop or maybe something cooler), but she found time to read in the evenings ("Mornings are absolutely for working out, no way I am skipping that for a book. Even if it is a good one.” she had stated, as if it was the law, and you had nodded dumbly, once again mesmerized by the intensity of her gaze, even if you woke up with a book and read it during breakfast and on the commute to the shop and couldn’t think of a better way to start the day). 

_______

“And I loved the world building in this one, the interaction between the characters, and I can't wait to read the second part and understand where these mechanical enemies are originating from!” 

You looked up at her as she agitatedly waved her copy of Clockwork Boys in the air, trying to express how much she had enjoyed it. You found it hard to believe how different she was from the hard, reluctant person that had first set foot in your shop. Mesmerizing. Just as she was. 

Suddenly you felt brave, braver than you'd ever thought you could be.

“In two weeks the author is going to be at our local book fair, if you'd like…maybe we could…go together?” you stumbled on your words a little and you could feel your cheeks getting hotter but that didn't change the fact that you had managed to ask your crush out!! 

And she didn't say no! She looked a bit stunned for a second but then she ran her free hand through her hair (oh it looked so soft and silky, you wanted to bury your hands in it too).

“Sure! Is it going to be Tuesday in two weeks, right?”

“Y-yeah.” Had she just…?

“Cool, I have the day off anyways, so it works like a charm.” She… She…

While your brain was still reeling, unable to process the fact that she had said yes , she grabbed the stack of post-its and pen and started jotting down something.

You blinked at her, unsure of what to make of the string of numbers you were seeing until she straightened up and handed you the sticky note with a…was it a shy smile pulling her lips up? Her eyes had never looked so big before, of that you were sure.

You looked at the sticky note. It was a pink one, and you had to resist the childish urge to draw hearts all around the numbers. You just were so happy! You thought as you went to save it into your phone, only belatedly noticing a glaring tactical error on your side. 

You still didn't know her name!

You felt like hitting your forehead on the desk. How was this even a thing? Who doesn't know their crush’s name? You, that's who. Too busy ogling her and inviting her to book fairs to remember to ask her her frickin name! 

Hehe. But you did ask her out and she did say yes. That had to count for something, right?

You looked down at your phone and then typed up “ My Knight 🩷 ” in the name field, struggling to contain the giggle that threatened to escape your lips. In another world she would have totally been a proud knight, protecting the defenseless and fighting for justice, you were sure of it. And she would have looked gorgeous in armor. 

Tomorrow, you told yourself. You'd text her to work things out tomorrow. Surely you could resist that long. The fair was ages away anyway. You could resist a handful of hours to avoid seeming desperate, surely you could.

You texted her that same night, of course. 

But she did reply almost instantly, and you managed to start a conversation beyond the bare minimum details of your…was it a date? It had to be a date, right?

She told you about her dinner, and how she had already started on the sequel of the book she had just finished. You could almost feel her excitement through the message.

You fell asleep with your phone beside you on the pillow, dreaming of soft blonde hair and armor  and book fair dates. 

____________

"Are you the one who's been selling Brienne fiction?" 

You were pretty sure you had never seen the man who had just entered your shop as if he owned it. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You know, Brienne? Tall, blonde? Hates all fiction books except the ones you've been selling her?" 

So that was your knight's name! And what a roundabout way to learn it! Just like in the best novels, it seemed that you had been spared the humiliation of asking her for her name after you’d known each other for months. 

Brienne.

You liked the way it sounded. 

Brienne.

It sounded like the name of a warrior, a strong, hard-headed and hard-working woman who'd stop at nothing to achieve her dreams. A knight. 

“I am Jaime by the way, nice to meet you. So are you the one?" He offered you his hand, you took it mechanically, trying to answer his question without giving too much away. Your knight’s reading habits were none of this dude’s business,that’s for sure.

"I don't know if I am the only one. Maybe she just doesn't tell you about all the fiction she enjoys."

"Nice try to defend her honor. I see why she likes you."

She liked you?

Butterflies erupted in your stomach and it took all of your self-control to avoid bursting into a happy dance.

She liked you!! Shelikedyoushelikedyou.

She liked you. 

She liked you.

She liked you !

The man in front of you kept talking, oblivious to the cheering going on within your brain.

"Listen, I know Brienne, okay? She's a lovely girl but I had to bet with her to make her unwind enough to consider reading something for pleasure."

“Well she probably didn't find the right book until now.”

“Or the right book dealer… so are you hers or not?” 

"Maybe I am…But why do you want to know that?"

“Well if you were , I'd owe you a huge thanks and possibly a round of drinks, cause she's been in a downright good mood for the past months, and especially in the past week or so. As her partner, I spend most of the day with her, and believe me, I am beyond grateful for the change.”

Oh.

Her…

Oh.

Of course.

Of course she had a boyfriend. No, a partner. That's even more committed, right?You had been so stupid. Stupid and stupidly hopeful. So hopeful and you'd once again mistaken friendship for something else, just like you did so many times in the past. 

You tried to swallow around that piece of news, you kept on a brave face while he still waffled about something or something else, but you had no idea what he was talking about.Nor did you care, all the joy that had taken over you had just as quickly dissolved, leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You didn't remember him leaving, but you knew that you were quick to lock the door after him and close up shop.Only then, surrounded by your beloved books, you allowed yourself to break down and cry all of your tears.

____________

You didn't cancel on Brienne, even if a part of you wanted to do nothing but stay home and mope. Yet you were sure you'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't go. 

And she had looked so happy when you had invited her. She probably didn't have a lot of female friends, you thought. When she talked of her hobbies, it had always been things that she did on her own. Working out, reading, jogging. 

She was probably glad to have some company. Someone to talk to that she vibed with. That was that. It had always been that, and you reading more into it didn't change the harsh truth.

Your heart was beating faster when you pulled up to the parking lot of the venue, but it was more due to trepidation than happiness. You had been preparing yourself mentally for a bookish date with your crush, not for…an outing with a friend. You weren't sure how to behave now, your mind too busy going through every single interaction the two of you had had, dissecting each word, each smile, each playful joke at each other's expense. When did you start thinking you could have a chance? At what point had your hopes become delusions?

Your phone started buzzing as you got out of the car. “My Knight 🩷” appeared on the screen, and you had to swallow against a hard knot. 

You know you should have changed the name. You knew her name now, and she most definitely wasn't your knight. And yet…you still hadn't.

With a sigh, you picked up, trying to be optimistic despite the dread pooling in your stomach. You could do this. Friends. You could hang out with your friend that just happened to be the hottest woman you'd ever seen. It was going to be okay. 

_____

It was not okay. 

It was anything but okay. 

Who thought that Brienne was going to be the kind of straight girl that gets all touchy-feely with her female friends? She had hugged you when you two met up and you thought you would die on the spot, surrounded by her arms and her perfume and the happiness of her voice.

And then as you walked through the venue, weaving through the stands, checking out books (you couldn't remember a single one you'd seen, preoccupied as you were with your companion) her hand kept finding excuses to touch you, once on the shoulder to get your attention, once wrapping around your elbow to direct you to a certain stand, once simply splayed on your back as you discussed cover designs.

It was torture. Every time her warm hands touched you, your heart would start racing, still stubborn in its hopefulness. But then you’d remember that it was all in your head and your heart would painfully constrict because oh it would have been so nice if it had just been true.

By the time you sat down in the auditorium where the author panel was about to start, you were a jittering mess. 

You kept replaying each interaction you had with Brienne, trying to rationally explain to your heart why, even if it might seem like she was coming onto you, she had a boyfriend and therefore it had to be her way of being friendly. 

Yes, even when she placed her hand squarely on your knee as the authors started their introductions.

To be honest you weren't sure what had been said at the panel. You mechanically laughed when you felt others do the same, and studied Brienne’s profile out of the corner of your eye. She had a soft smile on her face. As if she was enjoying herself. As if there was nothing wrong with the way her hand was resting on your leg, absentmindedly stroking lazy patterns with her thumb. Driving you mad. 

You were so engrossed in your thoughts and in her touch that you hadn't even noticed that the panel had ended, and most of the spectators had filed away, leaving the two of you alone in the auditorium.

You did notice Brienne shifting in her seat to turn towards you. Mainly because that caused her hand to climb slightly up your leg, putting it decidedly in the thigh area. Clearly an oversight on her part, but you could feel your breathing getting slightly quicker, and looking up to see her stunning eyes trained on you with laser-sharp focus didn't help you with that.

How unfair.

How terribly unfair for her to be so close, and yet unreachable.

How crushing that her hand, searing hot on your thigh, was not a promise of something more.

How sad that you'd never get to kiss those lips even if they were getting closer as Brienne leaned towards you…you could see her blonde lashes fluttering slightly, the small scar on her upper lip, her breath light on your face…

Suddenly she was too close.

Your heart jumped in your throat, and it felt like it had cut off all of your air supply. 

There was a ringing in your ears, and your skin was crawling hot and cold at the same time. 

You could see the little scar on her lip almost flickering, as your vision swam with black, and you knew without any doubt that you had to 

GET OUT OF HERE!! 

______

"So this is where you've been hiding." Brienne's voice was not warm anymore. You guiltily looked up at her from your spot on the bench. She wasn't smiling at you anymore and you wanted to hit yourself for that. It wasn't her fault that you had misunderstood all of her cues and kept seeing what your wishful thinking desired, and yet she had been the one to go through the pains of searching for you while you hid away to work your way down your panic attack.

She sat down beside you, a heavy sigh on her lips.

"I need to ask you something."

Oh. There it comes, you thought. The direct questioning that preceded the gentle let down. The 'I'm flattered but I don't feel the same' speech. As if you had never heard it before. Your heart remembered the pain as if it had been yesterday, and valiantly tried to brace itself for the inevitable rejection.

"Why?"

Huh? That…that was not what you expected her to start with, but she kept talking, and you had no choice but listen. "Why ask me out if you're so clearly uncomfortable with me? Is this some sick joke? It wasn't enough to prove me wrong over and over again? You wanted to humiliate me, too?" 

You could only stare open-mouthed at Brienne as she rained down harsh words on you, anger and pain mixing on her face. She was so beautiful. Even when angry. She looked like a vengeful angel, the righteous hand of God, coming to punish you for daring to hope too much .

"I-I'm sorry." You tried to explain yourself, but she didn't let you, her voice hard and cutting and relentless.

" You are sorry ? Is that all you can say? That's not enough for me. Especially when it's clearly bullshit. Do you think that's the first time people make fun of me? That someone thinks that going out with Brienne The Beauty is the funniest prank on Earth? Did you do it for a laugh, hm? Didn't expect me to say yes when you asked?" 

"No, actually I did not."

"You! The fucking nerv-"

"I didn't dare to hope you'd say yes because you're out of my league!" 

A stunned silence met your words. You didn't know where the strength to interrupt her came from but you had to. You couldn't let her go on thinking you had asked her out to make fun of her or something. And once you started talking, you couldn't help yourself. The truth had to come out, so you pushed on: "Which clearly you are. But you said yes and I…Brienne, I am so sorry. I tend to live in my head and you were so nice to me and I thought…but clearly I shouldn't have. Thank goodness Jaime told me before I made a fool of myself. Which apparently I still did. Fuck. I am sorry for that, I promise you I am enjoying myself today and I am sorry I am awkward and I understand if you don't want to see me anymore after this." 

"Jaime? What does he have to do with all of this? Did…did he set you up to do this?" You could hear the betrayal seeping in her voice and you couldn't bear it. If you couldn't have her, at least you could do your best not to have her break up with her boyfriend over a huge mess of a misunderstanding that you did all by yourself. By thinking you had a chance with this goddess.

Better if she hated you instead. Which she would do anyways. If she didn't already.

"No. Nono he's been nothing but friendly. He just dropped by the shop because he was curious about the books you've been reading." 

"Then why did you bring him up?"

"I didn't know, okay? When I asked you to come here, I didn't know."

"What didn't you know?" Oh she wasn't making it easy on you, was she? 

"I thought…I thought you might be interested in me - which I now realize is ridiculous. That's why I asked you out. I asked you and you said yes and you gave me your number and I thought it meant…I swear I didn't know! But then he told me and now I can't help but be awkward because I had thought this was a date and now it's not and I didn't want to ruin it for you which I guess I did anyways. I swear I didn't know when I asked you."

" Know what ? What did Jaime tell you?"

"That he's your…That you're his…That you two are together. Which makes sense, because you are so well assorted and you look perfect for each other and I am sure he can make you happy in ways that–" 

"WHAT?" The roar that came out of Brienne's mouth was almost feral.

"What 'what'?" You babbled back. You looked worriedly at her shaking hands. You knew she was going to be angry at you once she found out about your silly crush. But you still hoped she wouldn't hit you or something. She didn't seem like she'd be the type to take out her anger on you but…but those hands looked like weapons, clenched as they were into tight fists. 

"WHAT DID HE TELL YOU?"

You flinched away. You couldn't help it. The loud angry voice booming next to you, the hand shooting out towards your shoulder…you flinched away, your hands instinctively coming up to shield your face. Trying to make yourself as small as possible. Just as instinctively, apologies started dropping out of your mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" 

Silence.

Well, not really silence but the soothing pitter-patter of rain on the tin roof above you. 

But no words.

No more loud anger.

And no new pain blooming on your body.

You dared to open your eyes and peer beyond your hands. 

Brienne…well, she was beautiful, as always. But she was also white as a sheet, her deep, blue, stunning eyes wide open and bright with unshed tears. Her whole face a mask of hurt as her gaze took in your shape, as far away from her as the small bench allowed you. Her hand was still in the air, but it had lost all the strength, it was just hanging, palm half-opened towards you as if to show you it was harmless. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a broken whisper.

"I…I wasn't going to hit you."

"I…huh…I'm sorry."

She sighed and straightened in her seat, tearing her eyes away from you to settle them on her hands, now clenched in her lap. Her back was once again ramrod straight. Just as she probably was , your mind cruelly reminded you.

"No. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, to make you think that I was…unsafe. I guess that with how I look, it's an easy assumption to make."

"Beautiful."

"I'm sorry?" 

"You said 'with how I look' and that's beautiful. You're beautiful, Brienne. He's a really lucky man."

It wasn't her fault and you knew it. You couldn't blame her for this huge misunderstanding, you couldn't let her think that she or her appearance was to blame for your reactions.

You put your hand on top of hers, trying to get her eyes back on you, to show her how truthful you were. Her hands were so cold. She still didn't look at you.

"He…We huh we're not together together." Her whisper was so soft that you thought you had misheard.

You had to. 

"I'm sorry?"

"Jaime and I are not together." 

"You two…are not?"

"No! I don't know why he would…wait. What did he say? What were his words?"

"Huhhh I don't remember exactly. He said something about you being his partner." You tried to keep the accusation out of your voice. She didn't seem like the type to try to cheat on her partner, denying she was in a relationship at all. Gaslighting you for her own ends. And yet, you didn't dare to hope that…

"Oh for fuck's sake! Is this where all of this came from? He's my work partner . Not my romantic partner!"

"Your… oh . Fuck."

"Yes, fuck. And since we're on the subject, when you asked me, I thought it was going to be a date as well, that's why I gave you my number!! But then we were here and you kept avoiding me and you tensed up every time I touched you and when I tried to kiss you you just ran away and I thought…I don't know what I thought."

"Could you maybe…try that again?"

"Try what?"

"To kiss me. I promise I won't run away this time. Or have a panic attack."

"Just like that? That's not how it's done! The moment must be right and mmmmph–"

You didn't let her finish her sentence. You threw yourself at her, lips on lips, slightly smashing your noses together in your haste. 

But neither of you cared, lips moving against each other, her hand tangling in the hair at the base of your neck, and both of yours coming up to cradle her face. You didn’t care, because unbeknownst to the other, each one of you had dreamed of this moment so many times, and yet now that it was happening it was better than any fantasy. 

Comments are always welcome. If you want to read more of my fanfictions, here's my masterlist.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[angelic-dew]

I. Need. Hentengu. Clone. Smut. Pleaseeeee 😭😭

It is an utter need rn- Can you do it with a fem reader pls?? <3 love your work btw

˚₊‧꒰ pleasure.☆꒱‧₊˚.! || pt. 1/2 !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🌿 ୧・author's note :: I dreaded doing this sm i ain't a smut writer. As much as I love these daddies, I can't stop writing for them as well- istg I was up at 2am writing this smh.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ⚡ ୧・summary + word count :: you find yourself getting frisky with two of your beloved boyfriend until the other two walk in and are greeted by a delightful sight that they also wish to partake in! + 3134 words. smut.

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🫧 ୧・pairing :: aizetsu, sekido, karaku, urogi x AFAB reader! {she/her pronouns}

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🪶 ୧・trigger warnings :: smut, gang bang, anal, oral (giving), degradation, poly relationships, daddy kink, cock warming, dirty talk, marking, biting, double penetration, rough sex, face fucking and grammatical errors. Children dni, this is 18+ content.

Things weren't meant to escalate this quickly, in fact, they weren't supposed to escalate at all! It was supposed to be quality time spent with your precious boyfriends, nothing more, nothing less. Surely, they are demons, yes, but they are so close to humans and possessed many human qualities. They knew how to strategize, how to be crafty and of course, how to feel emotion. That's what got you three together anyways, their strong desire and undying love towards you. Their precious (Name).

There you were, in your private chambers as all of you sat nicely on the large futon-styled bedding. You, Aizetsu and Urogi this time were only meant to unwind and talk with each other! nothing more and nothing less had to be added, however, you and your tongue slipped up. You asked a question, "You know, when was the last time we actually had this much time to ourselves? I feel a bit bored now that I think of it." This phrase drove Urogi to the edge, you were correct, it's been absolute ages since you all have had so much time to yourselves, and it's also been quite the time since he's never been able to touch you as he's been wanting to recently.

His mind went crazy as he thought about the thought of his precious (Name) being slumped over his hardened, meaty cock like the previous time; the demon of joy remembered her expressions exactly, almost as if they were ingrained into his mind. He remembered clear as day and it was evident in his glassy, beady, glistening golden eyes that he was up to no good.

Meanwhile, Aizetsu took into consideration your words as well. However, he was much more on the innocent side. He wondered, what could you all do to pass the time? However, Urogi already had a plan set up for that and he knew for sure it was very much effective from past experience.

He shifted his uneasy yet playful gaze towards the demon of sorrow and whispered into his ear. His perfect plan which they can use to pass the time with their beloved human.

Almost instantaneously, a deep, but vibrant cherry-red blush appeared on Aizetsu's mocha cheeks, tinting them with the rosy colour almost perfectly to suit him as he stuttered subconsciously, "A-are you sure about that exactly U-urogi? I mean, I would not want to upset her after all, she might not want it! And we can't force onto our precious treasure!" hints of desperation yet restraint lacing his words.

You tilted your head to the side in utter confusion. Just what were they even going on about, you wondered until you finally spat at them, "Darlings, just what exactly are you two talking about? I don't mean to be nosy, forgive me, but I'm truly curious to know what's wrong." Innocent. That's what you were. You had no idea what was truly going on between the both of them

The two demons looked at eachother then towards you. One was a total blushing mess and one had a certain gleam in his eyes, as if he's been pining and desired this moment before. Just waiting for you to say those words to him. So he can make a deep fantasy of his come true at last! This was given example of taking advantage of the situation.

"Urogi you handle this!" the demon of sorrow said in a flushed tone as the other puffed his chest up and beamed in satisfaction.

"We want to 'play' with you my dear, wouldn't you allow us to do it dear? I'm sure it'd make Aizetsu very pleased," he coaxed, the look of playfulness making sure never to die in his eyes as he spoke; his gaze fixtures on your beautiful body, only earning for him to lick his lips happily at your physique. The poor other demon just covered his face in utter embarrassment at his clone's actions.

You inhaled then exhaled. Taking a good breath.

You thought about it, it's been nearly forever since you showed them some true lovin', who knows how much they've been wanting to feel you again. To touch you. And you couldn't lie, you were also guilty as well, you wanted for them to have their way with you just like all the previous and pleasurable instances. You three have more than enough time as of the present. Why not make up for the lost amounts? After all, what's the harm in it, just another form of quality time.

"Okay, do as you please," you said solemnly, fixing your gaze onto both demons, a sly grin appearing along your face as you do so. They were certainly in for a treat and they weren't complaining.

♡

They fully stripped you away of your pesky garments at this point, and they were so needy. Your clothing had been flung mercilessly on the floor, as for your undergarments? They suffered a worse fate; being ripped clean off of you, only your bare body being exposed for them to look upon. And they won't lie, it surely was missed sight.

Your physique and structure were just alluring making them want you more. They looked upon your breasts, already feeling a burning sensation beneath both of their large, muscular bodies; it was insatiable. Watching almost as if they were mesmerized by how your hair had fallen perfectly in front of your face, only earning a soft, faint, baby-pink blush to tint their cheeks. In pure adoration, their gaze shifted downwards to your wet, gooey cunt that was just as excited as their own massive, meaty cocks that were practically leaking of runny, sticky pre-cum from their thick tips.

The demon of sorrow wasn't exactly what one could depict as melancholy now, he wasn't living up to his name. In fact, he was in utter lust as he looked at his perfect treasure in all of her glory, he needed you so desperately. His member was incredibly hard and stiff, perfect to be in you at this given moment. Just imagining your warm, tight insides needing some loosening after so much time from not being fucked. It was mouth-watering.

Whilst the demon of pure joy felt himself entering the seventh heaven; in utter bliss even and it hasn't even gotten to the best part. Your gorgeous, angelic figure laid out before them was to die for. It was a sight meant for only them and they were surely possessive and territorial over their precious darling.

"C'mon boys, going to play with your slut or what? I thought you'd been awaiting this moment? Don't you want to do as you please? Making me scream; making me say the name of who owns me exactly? Maybe have me do whatever my masters want me to do for them?" you seductively asserted. Knowing they'd snap out of whatever trance they were in from those mere words.

Within moments they pounced on you like wild beasts patiently stalking their prey. Any and all clothing which had been on them was now discarded for they were no longer needed for what they had in store for their pretty little slut.

Aizetsu was certainly the quicker of the two, within an instant he was positioned sitting up as Urogi waited rather impatiently for him to have his fair share of fun. The demon of sorrow picked you up by your thighs with utter ease for his muscular build made it as if he was lifting a feather.

Gradually, he lowered your body onto his lap, his meaty, fat, thick length filling your poor entrance up simultaneously. It went in completely raw and fully hardened, having to force itself into your ass with pure strength just to allow the oozing tip to squeeze itself in. A simple, soft whimper or two emanated from underneath your soft lips as you felt it finally slip into your tight hole. He slowly continued to plant your tensed body onto his length but abruptly stopped and whispered quietly into your ear, "Please relax dear, I don't want it to hurt you."

Acknowledging his words you nodded and took in a few breaths and attempted to cease the tension in your muscles.

He began again, continuing to fill your tight hole up with his member, the length of the whole thing practically too big for you yet you wanted for him to continue. It stretched your warm insides to its heart's content, savoring the delicate warmth and tightness of your hole. Your face became a flushed, rosey, red mess! You timidly shifted your gaze downwards as various soft, sweet, little moans escaped from underneath your filthy lips. Even though it hurt, it was so pleasurable that it overwhelmed the pain, it just felt so good to finally have your ass stretched again. This was the same feeling as last time but better; you were tighter this time, more prone to the pain of it but there came so much delight as well.

Your cries of pleasure filled the room accompanied by Azietsu's faint whispers of encouragement to keep on going, faint words of endearment for you to take his whole length. At last, it was all in. Your insides cradled and gripped around his massive member, it was warm and felt utterly amazing. "A-ahh~ Mmm-" a pleasure-filled cry escaped from under his tongue as he felt your sensitive whole tense up and squeeze around him. God, it felt good, how he missed this.

As the sounds of pleasure filled Urogi's ears, he became even harder than before practically begging to be taken by you and finally, it was his turn to feel away at you, just like how he imagined it. After all, he remembered how his beloved (Name) is. Your tightness could go unmatched by someone else, nothing could ever compare to how warm your precious insides were. Nothing could ever replicate your soft touch. Nothing or anything could compare to how you made him feel for you. How he desired to touch you once more and finally, he was struck with the perfect opportunity.

He wasted no time, using his eagle-like wings to flap himself over towards you and his fellow clone. His length hairy yet somewhat delectable was running with pre-cum from his tip, begging for you to take him completely as the feeling of nothing similar-sized dick brought shivers along your spine. The demon of joy was a tad bit bigger than his sorrowful counterpart. His grith was to die for as you could barely wrap your hand around the full thing. This was perfect.

He grinned like a madman as he used two of those sharp taloned claws of his to your chin and lifted your face up to meet his. The blush that was scattered messily on your face only drove him further. "Be a good girl for daddy now and take me alright? You know what to do, you whore," he said hungrily and more impatient as Aizetsu stayed quiet. Only until you realized and certain wet tongue was running itself slowly along your neck. It caused you to send shivers along your body as well. It was him, himself, your precious lover with the glowing baby blue eyes marking you. It was only playful kitten licks but it began to grow into something much more rougher.

He started biting away at your soft skin. Those sharp, serrated fangs of his deeply gouging themselves into your savory flesh; it drove him wild. Biting until he hit the point where tiny beads of blood began to spill away from your now fresh wound. Licking it away as if it were nothing he starts to suck along your neck playfully, leaving behind deep, passionate yet dark trails of hickeys which are scattered along your neck, some reaching to your collarbone. Low yet pleased hums and groans spill away from your lips.

Urogi can't help but grin in satisfaction from his clone before making sure his gaze is locked on to you. You listen to his words from before and open your mouth widely, stretching it open a bit more just for good measure. You knew how big he was. And loved it.

"That's a good slut, you are just so cute when you listen to daddy you know darling," he chuckled as he now held his thick base within the palm of his hand, his palm acting like a cradle for his impatient member. Slowly, he began to thrust himself into your warm mouth inch by inch. He needed to feel this so badly. After patiently watching and yearning to touch you again, he definitely earned this bit of utter pleasure that you're giving him. Feeling such utter relief he let out a high-pitched but still deep cry of passion and delight that he unnoticeably slipped out. It just felt too good.

He loved the way you made him feel when he was in this state. It brought him such bliss as he felt your moist, wet tongue take in his entire member. It was as if he fell in love with you all over again when he felt you take in all of his meaty goodness and begin to get to work right off the bat with it. Feeling the utterly adoring sensation of your slimy tongue begin to work away with subtle, gentle strokes to his length which gradually got quicker yet still steady in pace. God, he loved you so much, this made the wait worth the while.

Your tongue wrapped itself around his thick length, the best it could, and moved along his base tirelessly and rather eagerly. As if it were hungry, greedy, wanting for him to release the gooey, sweet, creamy treat he had stored within him. As both of your hands made their way up toward his waist, gripping either side firmly. Aizetsu on the other hand was a big fan of the show, a small smile creeping along his face as he watched his clone be sucked off by the shared, beautiful lover.

Jeez, it felt so good, wonderful even but he wanted more; to spice things up and really show you how badly he's been needing you lately. I mean, there's no harm in showing you what he's really made of? It'd be even more pleasurable if he'd do it as well, he knew the feeling of your warm, wet mouth could be irreplaceable. Why not have some fun with it?

His golden eyes came into contact with yours, that same playful gaze being accompanied by some mischief well in his pupils as he placed one of those taloned claws of his on the back of your head. Gripping at your head with all his might, he had a few locks of your hair messily stored within his iron grip. He chuckled deeply before jerking your entire head onto his meaty member with one swift move, causing you to gag when the tip began to slide down your throat due to the force.

"Take it for me you slut," he spoke up, almost like a yell as Aizetsu whispered in your ear softly, "You can do it precious, you know how to make us feel delightful, just keep up with it." How sweet was he? As he now raised his hands up, which were planted on your thighs before, he began to slowly trace them along your figure gently, as if you were made of porcelain. His soft touches linger as he indulges in the utter satisfaction of his cock being snuggled deeply within your tight ass.

Urogi just grinned and forced it in again, this time it went in as planned. His clawed hand still firmly gripped the back of your head and that's when the fun began; he started to thrust and buck his hips slowly into your moist, wet mouth. The satisfaction washing over him 10 fold was unimaginable as he felt your tongue run along his length as he moved repeatedly in and out of your moist carven.

His thrusts became faster, swifter and rougher in pace. He had you gagging repeatedly, over and over, but he didn't care. The more your body forced his member out, the more he desired to have it pushed back in.

The winged demon was utterly mad, his pupils filling with pleasure as cries of pleasure began the escape unnoticeably once more from underneath his now quivering lips. "Oh fuck- that's it baby~ eat up daddy's cock like there's no tomorrow? You're already being such a good girl for me," he teased in between sharp, heavy breaths.

He leaned his head back just a tad bit as waves of contentment washed over him. Urogi's pupils glowed almost hazily as the gentle moonlight crept through the shoji.

His thrusts were becoming more sloppy but still kept its original pace. Your eager and wet tongue hungrily glided along his full length as it kept moving at speeds you felt were too much even for you, but this only made the demon of joy pulse with ecstasy as he started to feel faint twitches in his cock.

"Oi, oi! what's going on here, hm? You two trying to hog all the fun?" all three of your eyes widened. Neither of you said that, but it was a familiar voice. It was high but it had laces of entertainment stored within it, as if it'd been watching all this time.

It could've only been Karaku. Your green-eyed lover, the demon of pleasure and relaxation.

"How long have you been here?" the demon of sorrow spoke up quietly as he buried his face within the crook of your neck, your mouth still full with Urogi's full length.

He let out a small laugh and stepped closer and revealed yet the other demon behind him. The demon of anger, his gaze was cold and filled with fury and irritation. Sekido was watching the show as well, without any of your knowledge. "Long enough to be amused by this, however, you two are despicable. Can't you even see she has needs too? Her cunt is practically drenched," he bellowed, frustration looming through his words.

Playfully, the green-eyed demon added, "Oh, you're right Sekido, mind if we join you two? I bet we could all have so much fun!" It was evident in his voice he enjoyed every moment of what was being bestowed before him.

The winged demon sloppily and roughly thrust his harden, meaty member out of your mouth, a long, gooey string of saliva connecting it to your lips as a remanence of what lewd acts you two just did.

You panted, sharp, heavy breaths escaping from underneath your lips as your mind raced with lustful thoughts which could transpire for the next few hours.

© angelic-dew :: please don't translate or reclaim without permission <3

[matchaelette]

when jungkook is leaving and none of you know what to do with yourselves

summary: idol!jk and oc!ash (her name is ash, cz I couldn't think of anything else & Y/N makes me physically cringe), established relationship, jungkook is leaving for military enlistment and they are just spending the last moments together, jimin cameo ;)

genre: fluff, bit angsty, idol au

warnings: again, jungkook going through the whole enlistment procedure, suggestive, oc cries a lott but hey, everyone of us is crying

words: 3.5k

note: it had to be done. I needed to write about this. I'm not functioning straight and I wrote this in a mood where I felt very drained and emotionless so it might show up in the writing....? also, this is concerning-ly unedited. anyways enjoy, feedback is always appreciated <3

you've lost count of how many times you've cried this whole month.

ever since you could walk, talk, and form conscious thoughts, you've noticed that every feeling you've had and tried to express comes out as tears. yes, you're angry, oh my god mom, I wanna shake your shoulders and tell you to believe your daughter for once and not somebody else, but you're silent and you're crying; you've been memorizing every single thing for this presentation and you swear by your future first newborn baby that every word is engraved in your brain, just say the words, people don't care what you fucking say you just need to say something, but you're silent, your legs are shaking on the stage and you think you're crying; you love him, you love this human being staring at you from between your legs with all the love in this whole fucking universe, kind and whole and happy and real, jeon jungkook, you love him so fucking say it, but all you can do is caress his face and let the silent tears cascade down yours.

yes, ever since the beginning of time, all your emotions and feelings have been coming out as tears.

sometimes you think that spending all your teen years bottling up everything because of a mean father and an angry mother messed you up for good. all your life you've hated yourself for crying so easily, especially when in front of other people, feeling so weak and broken all the time. but you didn't think much anymore, at least not as much as you used to overthink when you were younger, scared of fellow high-schoolers, scared of what people think about you. after you've met jungkook, your sweet jungkook, he has shown you that crying doesn't necessarily mean you're weak. maybe you were just sensitive and that was alright, because you've always cried when you felt too much, made you more of a genuine human than everyone else. his words, not yours.

but it did feel good to hear and you didn't know what you've done to deserve it.

you also remember that every time you've hated yourself for crying, you always found solace in the fact that maybe someday it would all run out and you'd be perpetually free from all of it, the childish thoughts of a child.

however, even though you laughed at those thoughts every time you remembered them, you were now convinced of how wrong you were to think that maybe the tears would run out someday if you cried too much. because you've been crying continuously this month, more than you've cried your entire life, and by god, not only have the tears not dried out but also, it just keeps coming more and more if possible.

you choke out once again as you bury your face in jungkook's shoulder, clutching the front of his shirt as he tightens his grip around your waist. he looks at you helplessly, not knowing what to do anymore, because no amount of words or actions could stop you from crying. he knows he has tried it all.

you force yourself to get a grip, rubbing your face on jungkook's already wet shirt to dry your wet cheeks, and look up at the blurry distance in front of you, resting your cheeks against the place you've been hiding. jungkook stands there, one arm wrapped around you and one arm around his mother, with a little smile that keeps blooming at the sight in front of him seeing his jimin hyung hug and bid goodbye to his family, despite all the heartbreak in the air.

he tightens his grip around you and leans down to kiss his mother's head, who is in a state identical to you but still more graceful and elegant than you could ever be. "it's gonna be okay, you two", he whispers, causing his mother to gently smile and take your hands as you let out yet another sniff at his words. as sad and worried as she was at her son's departure, she couldn't help but feel worried for you too, her motherly nature reaching out towards you in a way you never felt from your own mother.

"I will be okay", she smiles at you in a teasing manner, despite her glassy eyes, "but the question is, will your girlfriend be okay?"

"h-hey!", your voice shook as an unintentional smile replaced the frown, "stop teasing me, maa", you whine.

"I am not teasing you, dear. honestly, come live with me for a few days. come to busan. I'll take care of you"

"if you keep saying that, I'll really turn into a parasite and stay in your house forever, maa"

jungkook giggles at your conversation, happy that the most important two women in his life got along so well. and you did, ever since the day you've met his mother. she loved you as her own daughter, as did his father, and made you feel so loved and comfortable that even your antisocial ass loved to spend time with them, making you visit them frequently, with and without jungkook by your side.

jungkook's mother lets go of her son and glides into her husband's arm, who looks at jungkook with pride. after all who wouldn't be proud of this talented, lovely, hardworking boy? jungkook was your boyfriend, and your best friend before your relationship upgraded into something more, and a lot of words came to your mind when you thought of him. but the first word has to be proud. proud that he became the man he is now, proud of who he was and every single version of him, how humble and kind and caring he is, always making everyone around him feel loved and respected. proud of how your friendship managed to stay so strong after all this time, proud how he is trying his best to get through these 18 months without any toll in your relationship.

jungkook hasn't shed a single tear yet, holding you through nights when you decided to be a mood killer, couldn't help thinking that soon he wouldn't be able to hold you like this. you were so far rooted in the future of the enlistment process that you forgot to live the present. you were a mess, shaking and sobbing ever so often, frustrated at hybe, frustrated at the whole lot of bts for taking a decision like this, frustrated at the south korean government, frustrated at jungkook for not being frustrated at how hysterical you've been acting.

jungkook, instead, has been a constant pillar of support. he has been constantly kissing your tears away, pushing his fears away of how you guys might not last through this calamity, reassuring you more than him that it will be alright. and as much as you wish he would express his own feelings instead of tending yours, you were glad that the boy didn't cry because it was all that was holding you back from getting onto your knees and begging him not to go. you couldn't do that to him, couldn’t do that to his happiness because you knew he would've obliged to your wishes, somehow, and break his own heart. he would do anything for you. he has been continuously proving that, after all.

"how is ash holding up?", jimin asks jungkook as he takes a sip of his soju, not feeling drunk enough despite the few bottles of alcohol he has drank. the point of the night was to spend time with each other, jungkook, him, and taehyung, getting wasted and having fun like old days. namjoon was supposed to join them as well, but he was overseas on schedule. taehyung, on the other hand, was already passed out on the couch, but it might have to do less with his low alcohol tolerance and more with his tiredness after landing in seoul from france just a few hours ago, after quite a hectic fashion week. so, it was jimin and jungkook now, them and their alcoholic asses against the whole world. after all, no one could hold their liquor like them in the whole group.

"she is, well, I honestly don’t know", jungkook frowned, a drop of soju ran down his lips to his black sweatshirt but he didn’t seem to notice, "she is totally ignoring that I have to leave and acting completely normal."

"sounds like her. isn't running from her problems her best coping mechanism?". you were close with all the members in the group, and the rest of them considered you as their little sister as well (even though taehyung jokingly called you noona sometimes) but if there was one member who knew the best, it had to be park jimin. he was your best friend after jungkook and the time you spent together, whether be it gossiping or shopping, was always something both of you found therapeutic and cherished from the bottom of your hearts.

a silent pain erupts in jungkook's heart as he finally voices out the thought he has been continuously having for the last few days, "hyung, should I break up with her?"

"yah jeon jungkook", jimin smacks the back of the younger boy's head, looking at him with shock, "are you that drunk already?"

"I don’t-", jungkook chokes out the next few words incoherently, and jimin had to physically shift closer to the boy to make sense of his words, "I don’t know what to do. I-I don’t know how to live without her. I want her all to myself and I selfishly want to ask her to wait for me. but how can I do that when she could have a much better life without me?"

"jungkookie-"

"she could fall in love with someone better than me. fuck, saying it out loud infuriates me but I know that she could be happier, way happier than I can ever make her. you see what I am doing? I am leaving the girl I love to protect my career, to make sure nobody has anything else left to guilt trap us with. I am doing all of this for myself. how selfish does that make me?"

"you keep forgetting that you don't have a choice, jungkookie."

"then why does it all feel like my fault?"

"what are we going to do?"

the words escape your lips without meaning to. they hang like a whisper in the air as your bodies slowly recover from the high they have been through, limbs tangled and eyes closed, forehead resting against each other.

"are we gonna be alright?"

yes, jungkook wants to say, yes because if you decide to stay, I will make it all work, I will make it all okay, I promise. but how can I ask you to stay when it will only hurt you?

"do you want to… maybe… break up?", his vacant voice makes your eyes fly open in bewilderment, not being able to believe that he actually said the words that he said. all this time both of you have been ignoring the pink elephant in the room, only almost two months left before jungkook left for the military enlistment along with namjoon, jimin, and taehyung. you’ve been trying to enjoy what little time both of you had despite your busy schedules, especially jungkook, who has been working tirelessly to make his fans feel a little less lonely when he won't be present anymore. something to hold on to while I am gone, I hope you can stay within this magic shop we've build together, memories of me would console you like the gentlest breeze of a fall evening, I will yet again patch something I haven’t broken.

but one of you had to be strong enough to address it, this overwhelming dread and the constant need to be with each other, ignoring sleep and every other basic need because you knew your time was coming to an end. you needed to address it and needed to be assured that both of you can get through this, your love was way stronger than these 18 months.

but that's the first thing he wants to say?

the way he looks at you breaks your heart. he has a small smile on his face and you can tell that it is genuine, that he is taking one last moment to cherish all of you if you decided to say yes. but there is almost an unbearing sadness behind his eyes, pained and tortured, begging you to say no.

your voice is almost comical when you actually find it, "jeon jungkook, do you want me to fucking kill you?"

and his immediate reaction is almost laughable. you could see his shoulders drop with relief. he buries his face in your neck and drops all of his weight on top of you, holding you in a way that immediately blocks out all the bad things and forces you to focus on him and him only.

you laugh, "you're quite heavy, babyboy"

"deal with it", comes out his muffled reply, as he forces you down on the soft mattress with his bare body, almost an attempt to bury you, and you choke out yet another laugh at his antics, tightening your legs around his waist and running your hands through his fluffy hair. I refuse to believe that it will all be gone soon.

"you haven't said anything. anything at all", he says quietly.

its sad that you know what he is talking about.

"I didn’t know what to say", you reply softly, careful that your voice doesn't shake. he doesn't need to see how you break every time you remember that he is going to leave, which you've been remembering an awful lot these days. no, you need to be strong, for him and for you. after all, you have already survived months away from each other, during tours and comebacks, thanks to both of your careers.

"we have survived before. it's not something new for us. we can do it again", you whisper against his jaw, gulping down the tears threatening to break free. only this time, it's 18 fucking months, and the unspoken words hang into the air.

"you didn't even shed a single tear", jungkook lifts his face and looks at you accusingly, knowing very well that you're a crybaby, "it keeps feeling like you don’t care."

your eyes widen at his words and it feels like a punch to your gut but you can’t say you're surprised. you have been acting indifferent to put up a strong front, and now that you look back, you may have overdone it from time to time. you were never a good actor.

you never understood why it always felt like this, every time you hide your problems from someone to not bother them, and always feel like a shipwreck when they actually fail to notice.

"jungkook, love", you trace his cheeks with your fingertips, his cute chubby cheeks, his lips, moving to his eyelids the moment he closes his eyes under your touch. you drag your fingertips through his scalp, waterfalls of his hair cascading down when you reach his nape, softly pulling his face closer to kiss the tip of his nose. jungkook, my love, how do I tell you that you mean the world to me and that I am not worried that our relationship isn't as strong enough to fight the course of time but I am sad and I am selfish and I don't know how to survive without feeling your presence for even a single day? how do I tell you that you never have to worry about me leaving but worry about me staying forever and suffocating you? I love you and I don't know what to do with myself, I love you and I don't know who I am without that love. what can I say to make it all better?

"babe, are you crying?"

no, you're not crying. you're sobbing.

"wait wait, I didn't actually ask you to cry—", you can see the panic in his eyes as he pulls both of your bodies up into a sitting position just using one of his hands while the other wipes your cheek off, you on his lap, your thighs straddling his waist, bare torsos flushed against each other. you feel him pulling you into a hug as if your bodies could get any closer than they already are. but instead of being comforted, you sob even louder.

"ash, sweetheart, please don't cry", jungkook wanted to punch himself, regretting the words he spoke earlier. what the hell was he thinking, saying that you didn't cry? he wanted to go back and kick his own ass at the stupidity. why the hell would he want you to cry of all things?

you on the other hand could do nothing except bury your face in your boyfriend's neck, and feel the entirety of him, his body, his scent, his hold on you, his voice so clear in your head, nothing but him until the time runs out. you have been so strong till now, haven't you?

"but you're leaving", he could see now, how much of an idiot he had been thinking that you didn’t care enough just because all you were doing was trying to be tough and get through without this exact moment happening. he could hear the desperation in your choked sobs, he could feel the sadness at his own dam threatening to break. he almost felt angry that after all this time, he was still stupid enough to not see through you.

"and I will be back sweetheart, you know I will be. and then there would be nothing standing between us anymore. nothing. for the rest of our lives", he promises as he lifts your tear-soaked face to look at his own. he looked pained, trying his best to be strong when you were falling apart right in his arms, but you could still see the hope behind his eyes because his promise was real and you knew it.

but once the waterworks begin, it just cannot stop.

there is nothing left to say now. it is time, you realize. the chilly breeze washes over you, and you realize that nothing can make you feel as cold as you will when jungkook gets in that car with jimin. your eyes find each other, mouths desperately looking for words to say, promises, comfort, but what can you say that hasn't already been said?

"I love you", you whisper.

"stay out of trouble, okay?", jungkook kisses your forehead and even with the unstoppable tears leaking out from your eyes, you can't help but shoot him a mischievous glance. you, the god of getting into trouble, staying out of trouble?

jungkook sighs, knowing you a bit too well. after spending years together, he knew well enough that you could never be forced to do something you didn't want to do. you were like a storm, passing through in a way that was your own, wrecking everything in the process. while he loved your bravery and carefree nature, he realized it comes with its consequences. for him, it was constantly worrying about you and never wrongfully so. so, he returns to his last resort to make sure that you will be okay, "do it for me."

"okay that is pure emotional blackma—"

you cannot finish your words because his lips are on yours in a second, abruptly plunging you down a rabbit hole because, god, after all this time you're still not used to it. he smells like fresh laundry and mint, moving carefully because he isn't sure that you will allow him to kiss you like this in front of half the people from his company, his parents, and god knows who else is in the base. but who are you push him away?

you drop all courtesy and kiss him back in a manner that is sure yet gentle, tongue brushing softly against his lips. jungkook obliges and parts his lips, breathe mingling and tongue dancing in harmony as you kiss him with all your might, letting all of him overwhelm all of you one last time.

you let go of each other, breathless yet eyes glued. you trace his face, from his eyes to his cheeks and nose, his shaved head, still as soft as silk under your touch. he kisses your fingers when they reach his lips, smiling gently to remind you that yes, he will be gone, and that will hurt as hell but then again, he will be back.

"go, jimin's waiting", you force out a smile, "and please, for the love of god, choose something normal to do, something that doesn't involve jumping out of an aircraft or—"

"I love you."

".....I know."

[skxllz]

fem reader??

okay but...

the thought of just,,, just,, just.. holding douma's face in your small, human-soft hands. stroking the apples of his cheeks, and over his jawline — just the curve; while giving him a half-lidded stare and calm smile.

he'd be puzzled... or moreso, couldn't comprehend why you'd look at him that way.

him — a unusual pest to the earth cult leader who goes about defying life and death as if it is nothing more than a game of cards. although he saw his beliefs, his purpose to living, something to be remarkably cherishable, he knew a lot of others did not feel the same.

in fact, he's come across humans and demons alike that can agree that his art of practice is... peculiar.

which begs the question, why would you look at him with such gentleness? he wasn't familiar with the emotion behind your eyes — or any emotion, really. but, he does recall a certain woman, sometime ago, that gave him that same expression.

are you looking at him like that because he saved you from the bruising hands of your own father? — or even because he's showered you in many gifts only the wealthiest of people come to receive?

no, that couldn't be it..

douma may not understand many things, such as the concept of happiness, or even what it was like to fear his lord... but he certainly knew you weren't ordinary.

lavish gifts and the most expensive of meals couldn't catch your attention, but the ripe warmth of one's soul could — douma knew that. he saw that.

you enjoyed more realistic things; ones that couldn't be replaced.

so, why did your eyes dance back and forth between his own? why did they seem to grow brighter, and hold a spark, everytime he'd move to place a pat among your head or show one of his common smiles?

foreign. everything about you, he was not familiar with.

... or perhaps he was, but it was so long ago that the sliver of his consciousness that remained decided to burn the bridge that connected himself to that unfortunate soul.

even if his mind wanted to wind the two of you together as one marcel, he knew there was something more to you than there ever was to her.

for example, why did a strange feeling arise in his chest when you doted over him in a caring manner? he was a demon — an uppermoon at that, so it didn't matter if he got hurt. there was no reason to... to worry.

no one has ever shown such an emotion towards him, so why would it happen now?

and... why did he seem to want more of it? was this what truly enjoying something felt like?

but, that couldn't be it, could it? he enjoys feasting upon woman, but it has never caused him such a headache. not to mention, this feeling was far more intense.

it made the valves in his heart tighten, and the intestines that resided in his stomach to flip. it was...

... strange. so very strange.

yet, he had a feeling of craving whenever you were around. look at him again, just like before — just turn your head, and soften your brows, and... yes. mirror the look of a kitten cherishing their human everytime you were around him.

it made him feel weird.

it made him feel... happy.

was that this strange feeling..? happiness?

douma has never felt emotions, and he never thought it could be possible... but you lit a fire in his stomach he doesn't want to burn out.

happiness... it grew a hunger far stronger than the flesh of a human ever could.

[febuary30thday]

Flora, Fauna

Okay, but I'm imagining a demon reader, who uses chlorokinesis as her BDA. But the catch is that she seems so comforting and warm with no ill intention until it's too late.

She is the New Upper Moon Six as a replacement for Daki and Gyutaro, and very often interacts with the Uppermoons so they happen to go yandere for her.

This man is powerful, and he very often makes it known.

He's a cold, terrifying demon who cares very little about human emotions.

He's ruthless and strict, so he bottles up his heart

So, when he meets his....match? He's not letting go.

When you were first introduced as an Upper Moon, he didn't think much of it

He just acknowledged your presence and that was it

That changed when he stumbled upon you devouring an entire village of people, still looking elegant and poised

That surprised him slightly, normally all the demons all crazy when it comes to battle, and let themselves go

He is humble, and you ask him to join you in your feeding session.

With that elegant smile on your face, how can he say no?

You are quiet and he finds himself enjoying your presence more and more

You carry yourself in a very elegant way, and over time, he falls in love.

But then things get dark from there.

He doesn't want you to leave him, always accompanying you when you hunt for humans, using his position against you, and not allowing you to interact with the other Uppermoons, and his threats are not empty promises.

"Kokushibo, I need to leave, I'm going to go hunt."

"I'm coming with you."

"There is no need. I insist I can go by myself. I'm not going to die."

"That wasn't up for discussion."

Good luck with him.

(He is so daddy. I'm sorry, but he is)

Muzan isn't loving, he never has been

He believes he is the perfect being, and that you are an extension of his perfection

Anything you do, connects back to him

He can read your thoughts and read your emotions and actions very well, so he can basically read you like an open book

This man sees potential in you, so you receive much more blood from him, and are promoted to the status of an Uppermoon.

He's seen your blood demon art before, but can't find it important enough to remember what it is

All he remembers is your carnage and chaos he had stumbled upon as you killed the last human in the village

He didn't bother caring about you

Until once again, he stumbled upon your chaos, only this time, he got to observe it, firsthand

He watched as you danced calmly in the streets, your voice ringing a strangely sweet sound in his ears

As people came out of their homes and watched, listened to you, enraptured by your voice

It was annoying watching you, so he went to leave until he heard a scream

It ended just as abruptly as it began.

He wasn't mesmerized, but he did enjoy your rather fast and efficient way of killing, but then he watched in surprise as you placed a hand on the ground and a red spider lily bloomed

He calls you over.

"My Lord! Forgive me for not noticing your presence earlier."

My darling, please tell me, what it was that you just did.

"Please forgive me, My Lord! I didn't mean to..."

"Answer me."

"Do you mean when I bloomed the spider lily? Did that inconvenience you, My Lord?"

"Tell me, what other flowers can you bloom?"

"Anything I wish, My Lord! I just need to know what it looks like and then I can make it!"

"No matter how rare?"

"No matter how rare, Muzan-sama!"

"My dear, you've done well. I have one simple task for you, if you can complete it, I'll be extremely proud of you."

"Anything!"

"Can you make me a blue Spider Lily?"

"Yes! Of course Muzan-sama!"

Out of simple excitement, you made quite an abundance of them, and he scooped you up and the flowers with one hand an all-to-knowing smile on his face.

"Good job, my perfect darling."

You are never leaving his grasp again.

"I wonder when Muzan-sama is going to let me leave." You thought, a puzzled expression on your face.

There was a smirk on his face as he studied the flower, not truly believing that this was real, and that it was all a fever dream.

"You don't get to leave, my darling. Stay in here and be a good girl, and I'll reward you with more of my blood."

This man can't feel a thing, so when he meets you and his heart skips a beat, he is instantly intrigued

You catch his attention pretty quickly, with how humble and elegant you are in comparison to him.

This man is flashy and sort of gaudy

He follows you around like a lost puppy

So much so, that Kokushibo has started to get annoyed with Douma following around his beloved

Even if Douma was assigned by Muzan to make sure you didn't step foot outside the Infinity Castle, that doesn't mean he could be obnoxious about it

Douma is very affectionate, so expect plenty of hugs and cuddling and stuff

He is forceful in his affections but you'll just have to learn to accept that!

What? What do you mean you need to leave and go hunt?

Muzna assigned him to make sure you stay alive and healthy and never leave

Don't be stubborn now!

He also occasionally leaves kisses on your cheeks, arms, and hands

Just because he's obsessed doesn't mean he's possessive, right?

Wrong.

He is clinging to you like a baby and legitimately feels discouraged when you aren't around

He guilt-trips you a lot

Fake crying, begging, the like, he has even ripped out his heart to offer it to you

You can use his vulnerability to your advantage, like crying as well, pouting, sulking

He hates seeing you sad, and when you are sad, he does his best to reassure you, even if it means he has to leave to get you food to bring back

He showers you in affection and makes his followers worship you too, proclaiming you a goddess because of how beautiful he thinks you are

He buys you everything and anything

He offers up his prey to you so you can eat together, thinks of it as a date

He loves spoiling you, so just don't leave him, alright?

"You don't get to leave, snowflake! I have all sorts of things planned for us today! Behave, okay?"