#because they love each other more than they’re willing to lose each other !

[grossdyke]

can u yap abt sirius and regulus

this is so vague so im gonna yap about how the only way for them to have a good relationship is if they’re mostly not in each others lives <- in a modern au

so i have this au where sirius gets out young, like in canon, and goes to live with the potters. regulus never quite gets out like sirius does, but he decides to study abroad, and in this way he can sort of live a double life, keep his parents happy by doing what they expect of him but not under their watchful gaze, allowing him a bit of freedom. he can also redeem his relationship with his brother because of the fact that he’s not in the uk and not living with his parents. sirius recognizes that regulus isn’t like him and doesn’t necessarily want to rebel against their parents, but he also recognizes that regulus is taking tentative steps to get away from their control. he’s saving his own life in his own way, just like sirius saved his life in his own way. <- this is something sirius can only make sense of if they’re not in the same room, same country even, because they always end up fighting. they need distance to understand each other. distance from each other and from their parents. too much talking leads to too many misunderstandings between them because they can never agree. too much time spent together turns into resentment, reminding them of the trauma of their upbringing. <- when the only person in the world who understands you like no one else is the one person you can’t stand to be in the same room as for too long :/ they’re always in an abusive household whenever they’re together, always children, fight or flight kicking in against their will, sirius always leaves, regulus always stays.

they talk on the phone a few times a year, see each other maybe one week a year, and most often because sirius comes to visit him. and things are good between them like that. i imagine regulus never tells his parents about it, and sirius wouldn’t either because he cut them out. sometimes they have to cut the visit short because they end up in a huge argument, and sirius goes home and a week later regulus calls and everything is back to normal. they don’t need to talk it through or apologize or forgive each other. they both get it, and their relationship is fragile at best, and they love each other more than they’re willing to lose each other twice. no one understands them like they understand each other but it only works if there’s physical distance between them.

like kara once said, sirius does something awful and regulus reacts back, someone (remus) says uhh ?? shouldn’t he hate you forever or something ?? and sirius says he’s my brother. he already hates me forever :/

it’s just. they love each other. they hate each other. they can’t stand to be around each other. they can’t lose each other a second time. they need each other. they need to be apart. they can’t be mean to other people like they are to each other. they can’t get the comfort they need from anyone else. RRRRAAAAAA

[abbotjack]

At first glance, Jack Abbot’s handwriting looks almost unremarkable — neat, steady, deliberate. The words don’t crowd each other, but they don’t drift apart either. There’s a structure to it, like someone who’s spent a lifetime forcing order onto chaos. Each word stands upright, solid in its own space, but never so stiff that it spills into the next. That control — that quiet refusal to unravel — mirrors the discipline Jack holds in his chest every day, pressing his grief, guilt, and rage into something survivable.

You can see it in the letter he writes to Raymond Orser’s family. Jack’s words aren’t clinical, but they’re contained. He doesn’t stumble into sentimentality or dress up the pain. He offers the truth plainly: I am sorry I could not save Ray’s life. He takes responsibility without dramatizing himself — the way a man who’s seen real battle understands that sometimes, even when you do everything right, it still isn’t enough. His handwriting reflects that same quiet acceptance. It’s not decorative or desperate. It’s functional, clear, pressed so firmly into the page that even if the ink wore away, the shape of his words would remain, cut into the surface.

Physically, Jack writes with a firm hand and a slight forward tilt — always moving, never wasting time. His script is quick but not sloppy, urgent but never panicked. There’s a soldier’s efficiency to it, a medic’s precision: fast because it has to be, careful because it matters. His letters stay mostly upright, bowing just enough to show you something essential — that Jack is always leaning toward action, toward duty, toward other people’s emergencies, never his own. Even the structure of the letter mirrors him: no unnecessary paragraphs, no wandering sentences. Jack writes the way he lives. He makes the unbearable survivable, the unspeakable speakable, using whatever small space he's given. His life has been a constant act of bearing witness — to violence, to love, to failure, to sacrifice. His handwriting doesn’t beg for attention. It stands steady. It says: I was here. I saw him. I tried.

And even though he couldn’t save Ray, he refuses to let him be forgotten.

If you look closer, you’ll catch it — the way Jack’s baseline wavers, just slightly, like a breath he’s trying not to show. His words don’t fall apart. They don’t lose control. But they tremble, almost imperceptibly, under the weight he’s forcing them to carry. In handwriting analysis, that kind of subtle shift says everything. It belongs to someone who’s weathered real storms — who has carried grief, fear, and failure — and still wills his hands to stay steady. Jack’s handwriting doesn’t cry out. It absorbs the cost quietly, the way he carries everything else. It’s the signature of a man who can talk someone back from the edge even when he’s still catching his own breath from standing there.

In a world where Jack has had to document more death, injury, and loss than anyone should, the fact that he still writes with this much care — that he refuses to let his words collapse into detached scrawls — tells you the most important thing about him: Jack Abbot still believes people deserve to be seen. To be understood. To be honored.

Even the way he writes "MD" at the end of his signature tells a story. It’s not a title he lifts up to be admired; it’s tucked into the rhythm of his name, almost thrown on like a quiet fact — not a decoration, but a duty. The same way you can imagine him still wearing his dog tags. The same way he still wears his wedding ring. Jack doesn’t use "MD" to separate himself from the people he treats. He wears it the way he wears everything: quietly, permanently, without performance. That fast, clipped way he writes it says more than a thousand words about him. Jack Abbot didn’t become a doctor for prestige. He doesn’t measure his worth in accolades. To him, "MD" isn’t a crown. It’s a promise. A vow to every person he couldn’t save: that he would show up again tomorrow. That he would keep trying. That no one would go unseen.

[shadowdaddies]

I would love an Azriel x reader where they are friends and they have a conversation and Azriel’s scars come up. And he talks about how he hates them and always tried to hide his hands. Then the reader says something about how they find them sexy because all the textures and bumps would feel amazing in the bedroom. Then Az just flabbergasted because he never thought of it like that

Hi! Thank you for the request, lovely. Sorry this took me so long, I hope it is worth the wait.💜

Your Touch

Azriel x f!Reader

warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, allusions to past injury

Cool autumn wind blew gently across your face, blowing strands of your hair to tickle your cheeks as you stepped outside to the training ring. It was a quiet morning, too early for anyone else to be up, or so you thought. The sound of metal brushing stone drowned out the birds’ morning chirps, drawing you toward the source of the disruptive noise.

Azriel’s dark form contrasted against the light morning mist, the Shadowsinger’s large wings folded tightly behind him as he hunched over his treasured blade. Eyebrows furrowed with focus, Az sharply dragged Truth Teller along the whetstone with more force than usual. 

You were one of few who recognized the spymaster’s subtle tells, who knew when something was bothering him. The way he gripped his blade, scarred hands flexing with each purposeful stroke against the stone... With a flush you looked away just in time before hazel eyes flicked to you. 

It was a practiced dance, a rhythm that flowed in flawless agony each time you caught yourself staring at your best friend. That tug in your chest that pulled you to find him in moments like this also let you know when he could feel you - your eyes on him, your presence - but you would not let him feel your longing.

He was the most thoughtful, loyal male you had ever known, and nothing was worth risking losing his place in your life. So you looked away, time after time, in hopes of keeping him around in any way possible.

“You’re up early,” his warm voice rumbled, snapping you from your spiraling thoughts. Forcing your gaze to his, you thanked the Mother for the cool breeze disguising the blush on your cheeks. You smiled, watching the gold in his eyes shimmer as he offered a small smile back.

“I could say the same to you,” you countered, willing courage into your bones and urging them forward to find your seat next to Azriel on the bench. His wrist flicked blade against stone once more, sparks flying as he huffed a tense breath. “Please be careful, Az,” you murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “You’ll cut your hand,” you added, nodding to his other hand which held the whetstone.

A short, humorless laugh escaped him, no hesitation in his reply. “As if they could look any worse.”

You both grew immediately still, hearts pounding now louder than the birds in the trees, Azriel’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You tracked how his throat rolled, another tell of nerves, of what he’d admitted.

“Azriel,” you whispered, taking the opportunity of his pause to reach for his arm as you looked into his eyes. You could see the emotions warring within them, the deep tortures of his past swirling, same as those thoughts eddied into darkness itself. “Your hands are beautiful.”

His eyes shuttered at your words, body tensing but not moving away from your reassuring touch. “Do not feel pity for me,” Az gritted out, his chest rising dramatically with unreadable emotion. “I know the hideous scars I have bared my entire life. Do not pretend they’re beautiful when I know they’re not.”

Something sparked inside of you at his words, as if the Mother herself propelled you to take his hands more firmly in yours. The intensity in your gaze drew Azriel from his stupor, his lips slightly parting as he looked at you in wonder.

“I do not ‘pretend’ anything about you is beautiful, Azriel. I know you are. And your hands...” You paused, allowing your gaze to drift to where you held him, his palms laid gently against your fingers. You stroked the skin there, the grooves and ridges surprisingly soft against your own. Earlier thoughts of those hands, how they might touch you, incensed your mind, leading your thoughts astray - for only a moment.

Azriel cleared his throat, drawing your eyes back to his own where instead of those earlier emotions, now lay a hint of mischief. “My hands...?” he questioned, brows raised in intrigue. 

No weather could disguise the burning of your cheeks now, no birds to drown out the nervous laughter that escaped you. “I, um... I think they are very nice,” you managed, dropping his hands and quickly shifting slightly away.

“They’re nice?” Azriel pressed, his curiosity only growing from your statement.

Breathless, you continued, something in your gut giving you the bravery to finally share a small part of what you felt for Azriel with him. “Yes, they’re... they would feel nice.” Panicked gaze finding his, you amended, “I mean, they do feel nice. Just now, when I held them.”

Azriel was now smiling down at you with an amused grin. “No, you said they would feel nice... What does that mean?” 

Fumbling over words, none came to you. Feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, you prepared to run when those hands found yours. Azriel pulled you close, holding you in place more surely than gravity as one scarred finger ever so lightly traced your cheek. 

“Tell me where they would feel good,” he purred, voice low and commanding as you leaned into his touch.

“Everywhere,” you breathed. 

Instantly, Azriel’s hands were everywhere, grabbing any part of you he could as the two of you frantically stripped each other of your leathers. Laying you down against the training mat, Az’s black hair fell around his face as he grinned and lowered his lips to yours. Soft but precise, he knew exactly what he was doing as your body became aflame beneath his.

Lips and hands trailed down your body, leaving reminders of your pleasure in their path before he paused above your pussy, so warm against the cool autumn air. “I want to hear how good this feels,” Az murmured, giving no explanation before his finger barely grazed your clit, sliding down to your core. 

You had never felt more vindicated than in that moment, when reality proved better than fiction. Azriel’s warm breath fanned over your heat as he watched your reaction to his touch, finger slowly teasing inside of you before he added another. 

Your mewls and gasps echoed through the open air along with his name, giving Azriel satisfaction as his wrist flicked and curled his fingers, working you as expertly as his blade. The moment his lips touched your clit, you were gone. Back arched off the mat, you felt the cool breeze against your sweaty, writhing body. 

Azriel continued working you through your high, pulling his hand from your cunt to hold it in the light for the both of you to see. Studying the glistening coat of your slick on his fingers, Azriel hummed. “That is beautiful,” he murmured, before turning to lock eyes with you while he licked his digits clean, openly groaning at the taste.

Smirking up at him, you lunged to pull Az back towards you, eager to have your hands on him now, but the shadowsinger held your wrists, stepping back with a ‘tsk.’ 

“We’ll have time for that later,” he winked, tossing you your clothes. “Training starts in two minutes.”

Jaw slack, you prepared to argue with him when you heard the doors open, Nesta and Cassian’s voices echoing as you scrambled to get into your leathers before they could see. 

“Gods, it reeks of sex in here,” Nesta groaned, silvery eyes scanning until they landed  between you and Azriel. A brief smirk graced her lips before she muttered something that sounded like “finally,” smacking a chuckling Cassian on the shoulder and settling in on the other side of the training area. 

You looked to where Azriel stood in the spot where he’d just worshipped your body, gaze not shying away in the slightest from his satisfied smirk as you calculated the time until training was over.

[leth-writes]

hotd x oblivious reader

I’m thinking about a reader who’s kinda oblivious. They aren’t super aware of everything going on around them, they’re just confused as to why no one is getting along.

You’re really close with both team black and green, to the point that they’re fighting over you, but you’re not even aware of the actual conflict; you just think it’s petty interpersonal drama.

They’re over in the corner threatening each other with dragons and swords and you’re just… hanging out with Helaena, looking at butterflies and asking to pet her dragon.

the second you express interest in the dragons, there’s practically a line; you’re the most nervous with Daemon and Aemond’s dragons, for obvious reasons given their reputation, but Luke has a pretty small dragon so you grow closer to him through that. Rather than the size of the castle, Arrax is about the size of a particularly large horse, or maybe a big bear. More manageable when you know they can’t swallow you in one bite.

This drives a wedge further between Aemond and Luke, with Aemond outright glaring every time he so much as catches a glimpse at Luke. Not only did he take his eye, now he’s taking a bonding opportunity out from under her?! He’s pissed and challenges him to a duel. You still think it’s all fun and games, and you’re cheering for both of them, and they’re both trying to fucking kill each other, it’s pretty intense.

no matter who wins, you’re ecstatic, and you hug them both and kiss them both on the cheek. The blush that blooms on their faces and the almost goofy smiles that stretch across their cheeks are perhaps the only thing they’ve had in common in years.

Aemond totally uses his injury to ingratiate himself with you. It makes you feel bad for him, and while he doesn’t normally want pity, he’s fine using it to his advantage. Once Luke is out of the way, he reckons, he’ll be able to reveal his true self slowly over time.

Daemon’s also pretty likely to get into physical fights, though he sues his silver tongue to make you blush just as often. He really is quite sly, and he’s the only one to outright proposition you. He’ll get Jace to take you out for a night in the town, slowly working their way to the brothels, trying to sully your reputation just far enough that you’ll have to marry him. It worked for Daemon, after all, and he just wants you connected to him. He’s fully aware that he’s not going to be able to live without you. Having you tied to Jace is just the perfect way to keep you close.

Rhaenyra is also taking advantage of your oblivious and gullible nature. She definitely tries to take advantage of the fact that you aren’t able to catch on to her true intentions. She’s convinced you to cuddle with her by telling you she’s too cold, and that Daemon’s too busy, and you felt so bad for her you were totally willing.

She’s more straightforward, pushing Jace to try to court you. He’s fighting off any of your various suitors, and anyone who is trying to take advantage of your obliviousness to secure a connection to the family.

You’re targeted by people from all over, mainly because of your close bonds to the various members of the nobility. Everyone has to work together to keep you safe when it’s announced you’re willing to court some random lord. You think you’re in love, they need to convince you otherwise.

Daemon immediately gets to work sullying the reputation of that lord. Then, he murders them. He’s not above paying a prostitute to seduce them in a place where you catch the two of them in the act, ravaging your heart.

Aemond and Jace both try to step into that void. Aemond, who takes a slightly more subtle approach, asking you to ride on Vhagar, fails; Jace, under the advice of Rhaenyra, takes a more direct approach and is able to begin dating you.

Alicent practically loses it, seeing her child so defiled by Rhaenyra’s child. She’s trying to convince you to marry Aemond or Aegon instead. Aegon shows up naked in your room; you can’t miss that clue, after all. It doesn’t work, you’re convinced he just mistook your room for his. Your rooms look nothing alike, but Aegon’s too charmed to even mention it.

Finally, Otto steps in to prevent Alicent from snapping and attacking someone. He’s not willing to let his precious grandchild fall into the hands of one of Rhaenyra’s bastards, after all.

Viserys is informed, even on his deathbed, that you should be married to Aemond. It’s to secure the familial line, after all, and your children will surely be strong and loved, the perfect combination.

So, he announces that you will be married to Aemond, breaking your relationship to Jace. Jace is heartbroken, Rhaenyra and Daemon are ready to burn the castle to the ground.

Thus begins the fight of the century.

[bombsquad9]

𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐭𝗼 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝗼𝐧𝐬 (18+)

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•SFW•

✞ Takes a LONG time to get them to show you their face, they think you’re gonna be repulsed or leave them, and they can’t lose you. Probably would cry if you told them they’re pretty and that you still love them because they’re just so convinced they’re ugly.

✞ It takes Nikto awhile to warm up to touch, but once they do they’re always wanting to have their hands on you. They’d be the type to link pinkies as you walk through the street/mall/etc so that they don’t lose you.

✞ Will touch your face in the middle of the night or just stare at you to make sure you’re real, sometimes they feel like their mind is slowly slipping because of the voices, so it’s really reassuring for them.

✞ Would be utterly obsessed with you. Sometimes it’s unhealthy, but they have to have you because they’re terrified of someone taking you away. It calms down when you assure them you’re not gonna leave.

✞ Has full mental breaks because of the voices and flashbacks. They have extreme nightmares that are really vivid due to the torture, so sometimes they just want you to hold them. There would be moments they would get extremely distant due to not being able to express themselves.

✞ Seeking reassurance a lot, the voices put them down to the point they don’t wanna look in the mirror (more than they already don’t). Will get extremely upset sometimes because the voices are putting you down or convincing them you’re gonna leave.

✞ Extremely attentive to your needs and what you want. They put you way before they put themselves, to the point it is a little concerning. They think showing you is better then telling you, considering they aren’t good with words and because they’re more of the listening type anyway.

✞ 100% scary dog privileges. If someone tried to touch you or even look at you a little too long, they’re walking up and holding your hand or something. Can’t have anyone taking their pretty little gem.

✞ Would teach you cute little phrases in Russian (if you didn’t know it already), and silently chuckle to themself when you mispronounce something. They think it’s cute and can’t help it.

✞ If someone dare hurt you they’d definitely ‘take care’ of it.

✞ Would leave you cute little notes letting you know where they were if they had to go out for some reason. They’re probably a little dry, but it’s still cute they’re willing to do that.

✞ They probably text really dry too, but it gets the point across. They just show their love in other ways.

•NSFW•

✞ Safe word is 100% necessary for them. They’re scared the voices might take over or get to loud and make them do something they’ll regret.

✞ Make-out sessions are very sloppy. Lots of teeth clashing a spit because they’re scared you’re gonna get ripped away from them, and the scars that leave half of their mouth open definitely don’t help. If you ask them to slow down they’ll try their best too.

✞ Mutters sweet praises in Russian, especially when they’re close. Each word a little stuttered, and sometimes even mispronounced because you just feel soooo good wrapped around them.

✞ Would want the mask to stay on, but the moment you fuck their brains out and praise their pretty little face it’ll never be on again. <3

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𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: None Currently

A/N: Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

[year2000electronics]

i think obsessive/selfish/misguided love or “harmful” love in general as an antithetical theme to gravity falls’ theme of love and family makes so much sense. if you think about it, a lot of the conflict in the show is born out of selfishness and obsessiveness and loving people as objects or means to an end. obviously, you have the big examples like gideon for mabel and giffany for soos, but every time both sets of the pines twins have butted heads, it’s usually been because of that too. just in like, a different way.

stan and mabel are both relying on dipper and ford to stay anchored to them forever to secure their happiness, and even though it’s a totally okay thought to have and dipper and ford weren’t in too much of a rush to consider their feelings, it’s a bandaid solution at best! dipper ends up NOT leaving because that’s the right thing for them but it’s not totally because the pines twins are a “set of two” who can’t be separated. it’s a decision they make mutually! mabel even says that she would be okay with dipper taking the apprenticeship, she just needed a minute to be frustrated!

and then of course you have stan and ford where stan leaving ford meant stan would lose his only friend, but even in their adult years, they clearly still love each other (ford and stan both apologizing profusely every time they land a devastating enough hit) but their selfish desire to have the other admit they’re the “villain”, to have a scapegoat to blame a whole series of factors on, overtakes them and buries that love. even as old men they’re still trying to get something out of the other before anything else (ford’s house and name, stan’s “thank you”). stan and ford want to love each other deep down so badly but this giant means to an end is in the way

you even see that sort of motif with characters like dipper and pacifica, where dipper’s crush on wendy almost always has negative results because, not only can it never be due to the age gap, but every time he tries to court her, it’s usually in the way a prize is to be won. he makes an itemized list of a process that is “guaranteed” to impress wendy, he literally brakes the laws of space time just so robbie won’t date her (as if one single snow cone is keeping him from his success), gets a job at the pool just so he can hang out with her, and jumps at the opportunity to prove robbie is evil. etc etc. and with pacifica it’s clear that her parents’ love is very transactional and conditional. if EVEN that.

so the fact that book of bill is setting up bill to be like a clingy ex to ford- more than that, it’s setting up ford to be the only human bill cares about THIS much! it feels like the ultimate way to tie bill to that theme of how love can harm as much as it can heal. like, he’s always been an obstacle to the pines’ happy ending, but this way, we see his reaction to love in his psyche play out, and you understand why he’s the opposite and obstacle to the pines. the stan twins hurt each other and it takes an entire show’s worth of growth for them to fix it. gideon hurt mabel but him letting dipper and the group into her bubble proves he’s willing to change. bill hurt ford and he throws a temper tantrum and denies everything, trying to use force to get things back to the way they were because in his own twisted way he really does love and care for ford. i’m sure even a traumatized millenia old dream demon could change but for now bill doesn’t! and that kinda makes him and ford’s relationship the perfect tie in to the themes in the show

[thatshadowgastwhore]

Why demigods have certain powers: a theory (long post)

I have this theory that the reason demigods have specific strengths, or display one aspect of their parents powers over others is due in large part to what aspect their godly parent visited their mortal parent in AND how their mortal parent perceived them. TLDR at the end. Idk if this is a common theory, but I’ve never seen it written out before.

Half of this is pretty much so canon, in the way we know that Greek vs Roman demigods are different because they aren’t the same exact gods. The best example of this is Nico vs Hazel, where Nico is a child of Hades, who is the god if the Dead where Hazel is a child of Pluto, the god of the Underworld and Wealth. This affects their powers. We will come back to them.

However, we also know that demigods don’t necessarily inherit all of their parents dominions. For example, Will, Kayla, and Austin are all children of Apollo, but each have very different specialties. Will has power over healing and light, Kayla over archery, and Austin over music. Apollo is god of all three, but they all have very defined areas of interest and talent.

I think what powers come to a demigod naturally will be determined by their mortal parent, not their godly parent. The best example of this is Hazel.

Marie Levesque very specifically summoned Pluto because he was a god of wealth. It’s how she perceived him, not as a god of the underworld, the dead, or shadows, but as a god if riches and jewels. This explains why Hazel’s abilities are focused on riches. (I’m aware Pluto grants Marie a wish, and that part of that is that Hazels jewels are all cursed. However. Even after they stop being cursed (kind of) at the end of SoN she doesn’t lose the ability to summon them. SHE is the gift Pluto granted Marie, not the gems themselves) This doesn’t mean that she can’t access other abilities associated with children of Pluto/Hades, as is obvious in HoH when she assists Nico in shadow traveling everyone out of the House of Hades, or that the dead don’t sense her as a child of the Underworld and defer to her, like the Leres at CJ, but that isn’t how her powers naturally manifest.

Sticking with Hades, Nico (and Bianca) are a good comparison: they have (kind of) the same father as Hazel, but their abilities are very different. Looking at Maria, we don’t know too much, but I am going to assume something based on the fact that she’s from Italy in the 30s and her name is Maria: she was probably Catholic. Now, as someone who was raised Catholic, I feel qualified to say that Catholics are, while not as a whole superstitious, they are quite obsessed with death. Not in a Rapture sort of way the way some denominations are but more in a…they care A LOT about the Saints and Heaven and judgement, and because of that they’re more than willing to accept things happening because of intercession of a Saint or a dead loved one guiding them. I am not Italian in the 30s, so I can’t speak to that. But because of that, and the fact we KNOW that Maria knew the father of her children was Hades, Lord of the Dead (he offered to keep her safe in the Underworld, she knew about the prophecy, she knew Zeus wanted her dead) we can see how these things about her are reflected in her children.

Nico is known as the Ghost King, because his powers mostly manifest in his ability to summon and control the dead. He also has powers related to shadows, but he really has to practice to get good at it and not pass out. Affecting the dead is the first thing we see him do as a Hades power (dismissing the skeletons attacking Percy at the end of TC, and again all through BotL with Minos) before we ever see him shadow travel, which isn’t introduced until tLO, two books after his introduction. While Bianca’s page time is limited, the only real Hades power we see her demonstrate is when she destroys the skeleton. Maria saw Hades as the king of the dead more than any of his other powers. She obviously RECOGNIZED he had dominion over darkness and shadows (she says so when she tells him she won’t raise her children in the darkness of the Underworld) but that isn’t the part of him that she sees and values and fell in love with. She had kids with the god of the dead, so her children primarily manifest their powers over that domain. I also think that the fact she knew she was dating a god made her children more powerful, if that makes sense. Nico and Hazel are some of the most powerful demigods in the series, even apart from being big three kids.

But Mags, Mags! I hear you cry, what about kids like Annabeth? Athena kids don’t have obvious powers, how is that relevant here?

There aren’t a ton of good comparisons for Annabeth to see how her abilities compare to her siblings besides maybe Malcolm. However, I’ll do my best.

Annabeth’s power from Athena is her intellect and her cunning. Let’s look at how Athena and Fred met: Annabeth tells us that without Athena’s help, he wouldn’t have graduated his doctoral program. So when Fred met, we can assume he met Athena in her aspect of being a scholar. We know is that this is not Athena’s only mythic role, she is also a strategist and a patroness of useful crafts like weaving among other things.

I believe that Annabeth’s intellect really does manifest more as a scholar than anything else. For example, she has no formal schooling between the ages of 7 and 12, when she is at camp full time. Those are some formative years when a child creates a foundation for their future learning, and Annabeth has ADHD and dyslexia. School should not be a walk in the park for her. And yet, she doesn’t really struggle to reenter school, and she’s constantly referenced as doing essentially independent studying, whether it’s reading books in Ancient Greek or working on Daedalus’s laptop. Studying and researching is her hobby because it comes incredibly naturally to her, which matches up with how Fred would have seen Athena. And yes, we see her weave to get across the cavern in MoA, but that’s kind of a one off. Annabeth herself realizes in the moment that, “oh yeah, Athena’s the goddess of useful crafts,” like it’s never occurred to her to even attempt such a thing before. The only time we see her bring this talent back is at the beginning of BoO when Jason is stabbed (iirc - I could be wrong on this reference. I didn’t open a single book to write this essay)

Comparing that to Malcolm, we don’t know a ton about his powers or his parent. All I can recall is a single short story in which Athena sends him a dream requesting he reinstate a festival of hers, and he leads the Athena cabin in setting everything up, and I think weaves the Athena Parthenos a cool robe? Fact check me here, that’s as memory serves.

So why wouldn’t Athena ask Annabeth to do that? She’s the one who found the statue after all. I’m willing to bet it’s because whomever Malcolm’s father is, he met Athena in her aspect as a craftswoman. The skills that Malcolm inherited are primarily to do with crafting because of his mortal parent.

You can also see why some aspects of gods aren’t really seen in their children. For example, Dionysus is a god of wine but also notably mania. Of his two children we see + the one child of Bacchus we see, (Castor, Pollux, and Dakota) all three only have affinities towards the former. (There are vague allusions to the twins assisting the Demeter cabin with the strawberries because fruit bearing plants do well with them, although grapes are best, and Dakota has his kool aid addiction) but none ever display an ability to induce mania. Dionysus does, in TC when Percy Iris Messages him, but his kids don’t. Why? I’m willing to bet that less people are attracted to the manic aspect of Dionysus than the party side, especially because it requires wanting to make a baby with the guy. Not everyone, I’m sure at some point there’s been a Dionysus demigod who could, but it’s be rarer.

So what about Percy? He has like ALL his dad’s powers. Eh - kind of? Walk with me here:

We know quite a bit about Sally and Poseidons relationship, that they were together for an entire summer, that they met at Montauk, and that Sally knew she was dating the King of the Ocean. (Poseidon also offers her a palace under the sea to keep her safe from Zeus. Now he’s 2/2 on having his brothers offering to keep their lovers safe from him and thus revealing their identities to them and making their kids even more powerful)

We know that she associates Poseidon with the sea very strongly, but more so that she thinks he is powerful but GENTLE. I posit that because of that, it explains why water is healing to Percy. Zeus kids don’t get magically better when they stick a finger in an outlet. Demeter kids aren’t healed by plants. This is kind of unique to Percy and I think it’s because of Sally and Poseidon’s relationship. I would also assume that at some point, Poseidon showed her that he could communicate with sea life and horses, and those then became part of her idea of him, which is why water, equestrians, and fish are the parts of Percy’s power that comes most naturally.

You know what Poseidon’s the god of that isn’t in Percy’s primary powered? Earthquakes. He’s done it once: Mt St Helen’s in BotL and he did so while he was actively dying and the mountain was already erupting a little bit, he just made it worse. But he’s never actively tried to do so. It feels kind of like Hazels shadow travel: he probably could, with a lot of effort and maybe some help because his dad IS Poseidon, but it’s not his thing.

It’s also why he can kind of mess with ice. The only real time we see him do so is in SoN when he collapses the glacier CJ in Alaska, but for the most part, if water isn’t in its liquid form, he doesn’t really mess with it. No steam either. He probably COULD, but Sally met Poseidon by an ocean, so that’s their basis.

The poison in HoH reads similar to the earthquake. He probably could control any water based liquid but it would take more effort and he doesn’t want to. For what it’s worth, yes, Percy could blood bend, easier than he could poison bend because blood is salt water. But he won’t. Because it disturbed him.

Moving on.

Mags! That’s all well and good, but what about Thalia and Jason? Don’t they kind of disprove your theory? They have the exact same mortal parent, why do they have such different powers?

Well, for what it’s worth, they DON’T have the exact same parents. Zeus and Jupiter are not the same god. So they’re technically half siblings through Beryl. Swerve. But I see your point - if I’m suggesting that the powers one inherits from their godly parent are determined by one’s mortal parent, then Thalia and Jason should be basically the same.

Well, they are pretty similar, all things considered, but a key part of that is what there really is to inherit from their godly parent. This gets more into classical theory that I am not an expert in, but from my understanding: you can generally state that of the two, Zeus was more impulsive and wrathful and might smite you for anything, and Jupiter filled the father/king of the gods role more. And we already agreed at the bringing with Nico and Hazel that Roman and Greek gods aren’t the same.

And. When we’re looking at the relationship between Beryl and Zeus, it’s a wild starlet having a wild fling, she has no children, she parties, she’s here and there and everywhere, she can’t be tied down. And it’s implied that she knew he was a god, because being able to catch the attention of Zeus apparently made her go off the deep end when he left. And she wanted very badly to see Olympus but Zeus refused (with good reason. The reason being Hera) Thus, Thalia’s powers pick from the ones matching those traits. She’s got power over lightning, but not necessarily the sky. She probably could fly if she ever tried. And also: she doesn’t have to ask permission to call down lightning. She just does. She makes her own lightning.

Jason on the other hand, is the result of Beryl and Jupiter. The relationship was a smidge more stable. Beryl was calmer when Jupiter was around and Jupiter presented himself to her in a more…grand? aspect. It makes sense then that Jason can fly but he’s not really a lightning guy. Like. Yes. He caaaan, but pretty much so any time it counts there’s a mention that he like, petitions his dad to let him summon a bolt. But he controls the winds with ease, because Jupiter is a king, and that’s how he presented himself to Beryl.

Which brings me to a straight up theory I have about May Castellan. I think that she was either a politician or a political correspondent. Someone who was on the news a lot, someone with a sharp tongue, an excellent debtor, and an orator extraordinaire. All we know about her in canon is that she had Luke, and she was special enough to Hermes that he continued to visit her after Luke was born, and that he told her about the Oracle, and how that turned out.

Hermes is the god of a metric ton of stuff. Thieves, travelers, tricksters, merchants, athletes, gymnasiums, orators, communication, gambling, the list goes on. A lot of his kids are described as speedy: their mortal parents probably caught his eye due to being athletes. We know Luke to be very charismatic and the best swordsman the camp had seen in years. I think that indicates that May attracted Hermes as someone with a sharp wit, who could verbally spar anyone into submission (unless she was legit into swordplay) and she caught peoples attention and could convince them of anything. It also explains why she’d have been so insistent on becoming Oracle, besides being clear sighted. If she was an elected official or a media correspondent, it would suggest an interest in conveying messages, and being the voice for others, like being the voice of Delphi.

But Mags, that’s all well and good but Will’s mom is a musician. Why is his only gift on that front that horrible dog whistle?

Eh…? This one is tricky, however, it might be that she attracted Apollo because of her music, but he attracted her because he exudes warmth and light, thus her child gained healing and light powers and not music. It’s a weaker explanation. Sorry.

There is one other very notable exception to this theory, and I do have an answer to that. Leo’s fire ability had very little to do with Esperanza, and everything to do with the prophecy.

I think that Leo was fated to have power over fire, as the fire in “to storm or fire the world must fall.” That being said, I don’t think Leo’s crafting skills were fated. Those I feel were passed down from Hephaestus through Esperanza’s association with engineering and crafting with him, but the fire wasn’t. The fates wove that power in.

TLDR: Which powers a demigod inherits from their godly parent isn’t random, it’s determined by how their mortal parent perceived the god and their domains.

[iamsebastiansstan]

for granted, in vain - stepbro!NAC x fem!reader

PART 2/2 OF STEPBRO!NICK - CLICK FOR PART ONE

summary - If this is something he’s capable of, he’s never deserved her in the first place.

He starts walking backwards in a daze when her hard voice stops him.

“Fuck you if you go back to her, Nicholas.”

In a voice that he doesn’t recognize, he says, “Fuck me, then.”

wc - 8k - MINORS DNI !

warnings - dark!Nicholas so beware, angst, hurt/comfort, stepcest, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), crying during sex, dirty talk, face slapping (mostly the non sexual kind), p in v sex

A/N - good God this took ages to finish, I'm sorry. I feel like I started this series with a bang and part two is a likkle flat... especially because it's so plot-heavy lol but I still hope you like it!! lemme know what you think my Darlings, I love you always <33

It goes on like that for a while. 

The secrecy, the careful nature with which they handle their relationship, they get used to it, they manage well, make sure not to lose each other in the process.

It is still deliciously forbidden, and Nicholas never would have thought that he’ll get to live this fantasy of his, which makes it all the more special that he finally does. 

Mom and dad leave them alone, mostly, but it is still too risky to go all the way like they want to- need to, at this point- and the danger connected to finally fucking his stepsister for real licks at his spine with more discomfort than he likes to admit. She doesn’t ask, never did again, after that first time, and despite his newfound controlling nature and incessant obsession with her, he doesn’t want to push. 

He pushes with other things, has before, but not with this. When he fully makes her his, he wants her to have demanded it beforehand. 

Holding back isn’t easy, though, never has been, with her. 

When she’s on her knees for him, begging with her eyes, he almost breaks the skin on his thigh the way he’s digging his nails in, all to hold himself back. When he loses himself between her thighs, stretching her open until she’s crying with it, he has to bite his lip bloody to keep from just sliding in without much preamble. It takes a lot of restraint, which thankfully, Nicholas does have, thank you very much. 

He finds his heart aching for her. When they’re at the breakfast table and her laugh pierces his chest, the epitome of happiness in that sharp sound; when they bicker needlessly, jokingly, about things only they have come to understand about each other; when the sun illuminates her skin just so, makes her appear like an angel before him, come to free his damned soul. 

And damned it is, for what he feels for her, for how angry it makes him, for how it causes him to act around her- towards her, even- when she deserves so much better. So much better than him. 

When the new semester starts, too soon for anyone’s liking, they decide to keep their distance at college. The last thing they need is prying eyes on them, the questions their friends would undoubtedly ask if they saw them interacting more than usual.

She doesn’t like it, he knows.

“We could just tell them that we’ve gotten closer over summer break,” she pouts, head on his chest.

He plays with her hair a little, entertains the idea, decides against it.

“Any kind of change will draw attention, (Y/N),” he drawls, “attention that we can’t afford. Not now.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Drop it,” he snaps, leaves no room for argument. It’s tearing at him, not giving her what she wants, but he’s got to be smarter than that. If he lets her push, he’ll give in, and damn them both.

The way she deflates squeezes at his heart a little, but his big brother protectiveness doesn’t allow him much leeway. 

He doesn’t fuck anyone else either, for that matter, and while her eager throat and skilled hands pull orgasm after orgasm from him whenever he demands, it’s just no comparison to what it feels like to sink into a willing, wet body, a tight pussy that he gets to shape for his cock, even if just for one night. It’s stupid, really. Hornyboy-brain is all it is. 

It costs him, inevitably. 

His friends coax him out of hiding and take him to a party to celebrate the start of the new semester and he agrees, because if there’s anything he likes, it’s the comfortably humane way the colder months announce themselves at the end of September, would leave his bare arms chilly if not for the alcohol thrumming through his system. He says yes when they ask him to come and he says to her when she asks him if she’s allowed to go with her friends and he says yes to the knee-length dress she wants to wear that night. Nicholas is in a charitable mood. 

They arrive separately, though it gnaws at him, the fact that her friend Stacy or Casey or whatever the fuck will drive them, the fact that he doesn’t know her little group and thus doesn’t trust them with her. But he has to. He’s had to so far, and all had gone well. Nicholas makes his way through sweaty bodies, smiles at a handful of familiar faces, gets himself a drink that tastes way too strong to have mercy on his liver and downs it in one go. Tonight is for letting go, and he plans to do exactly that, shed the armor of responsibility that he himself has put on his broad shoulders and just be Nick for a few hours, the Nick he was before she corrupted his every thought, every single fiber of his being. 

He knows it’s not fair to put this on her, but if he puts it on himself, he’ll break. So he lets the poison seep into his thoughts and lives with the guilt, at least for one night. Tomorrow, he’ll make her breakfast and kiss her sweetly under the shower and promise her that soon, he’ll claim her completely, and he will be hers in return. Nicholas gives as good as he gets, always has. Tonight, though, he will allow himself to be unhinged. 

The bass is pumping something fierce, making his bones shake, and he loses himself in the crowd of people dancing in the spacious living room, the mansion they’re in providing generous space. It’s beautiful here, the way the chandelier catches the colorful lights, the way they’re all here to enjoy their youth while building a future for themselves. There’s so much stress and desperation in those godforsaken lecture halls, those endlessly long hallways, but here, the feeling of freedom flows through the atmosphere so heavily they can taste it on their tongues. 

All he feels around him is skin, rubbing against his and filling his nostrils with sweet perfume, heady cologne, clean sweat. It’s intoxicating in the best way, reminds him of a time before he wound himself into knots over a woman he can’t love the way he wants to, and when he drives his hand through his damp hair, looks ahead, he can see her staring at him from where she’s perched atop the kitchen counter.

She’s sitting with her thighs slightly spread despite how high her dress is riding up, smokey eye dangerous and hair mussed as if she’d gotten fucked before this. He knows what that looks like on her, one way or another. The air around her is arrogant, little sister petulant, and it makes him grit his teeth. A drink gets handed to her by a nameless girl and she accepts it, doesn’t take her eyes off his as she lets the tip of her tongue play with the white rim of the red plastic cup, and if Nicholas wasn’t a handful of shots and two handfuls of drinks in, he’d feel anger surge in his chest. Now it’s only need, desperation in a way, recklessness. 

When an unfamiliar hand, dainty and soft, touches his arm he doesn’t back away, doesn’t stop looking at her when he grabs a wrist, spins a body around- a back to his front- and starts a slow and dirty grind that makes the hairs on his neck stand up. She’s sipping now, face unbothered if it weren’t for the fire in her eyes, the kind of fire you ought to put out immediately before it swallows you whole and makes you regret ever having lit the match. 

The girl in front of him has blonde hair down to her curvy ass, hips perfect for grabbing, and he closes his eyes when he inhales her scent, smells spice and danger, gives into it with a lick of his tongue against the side of her bared throat. The music is humming around him, but his ears are ringing, but he refuses to look up, to back down, to show his sister the power she has over him. He was a fool to think he’s got the upper hand. All that he is, all that he wants to be, starts and ends with her. 

The pair of lips pressing on his only surprise him a little, and he kisses back feverously. The taste is all wrong, the contours of her face as well, and none of it is her fault. Still he holds on, cradles a head and licks at some teeth, bites softer than he knows he’s capable of, doesn’t hand out marks where they haven’t been earned. 

When she pulls away, dirty smile playing on red lips, he exhales harshly and leans down to her ear.

“I’m gonna get a drink, you want anything?”

She shakes her head, gets on her tippy toes so he’d hear her.

“No, thank you. But will you come back?”

The cheek in his grin is as fake as his lust for her, but if there’s one thing he knows how to do, it’s play it up for the big show. 

“A’course.”

It’s the first time he looks up since he allowed himself a taste of this stranger, and when he finds her glaring daggers at him, he grits his teeth and bears the pain. Making his way through the crowd proves to be easy with his height and built, and he ends up standing face to face with her sooner than he’d like. He steps between her thighs, a safe distance apart, leans his upper body closer. 

“Where are your friends?”

“Doing coke in the bathroom.”

“Are you serious?” His fists clench.

She shrugs, nods once.

“You’ll never see them again, you hear me?”

He can’t hear her scoff, but he can see it, can see the corners of her mouth turning up cruelly while the heat in her eyes goes from a simmer to a boil in zero point two seconds. 

“What about blondie? You gonna see her again after tonight? Or is this just another one of your hump and dump stories, hm, Nicholas?” 

He deserves this, but he hates it, nevertheless.

“That’s none of your business, (Y/N).”

He knows it’s mean for no reason, but he can’t help it. He can’t have her the way he wants, the way he needs, for now and forever, so why even bother? Why prolong the inevitable, spend years gathering ammunition only to shoot himself in the heart, kill her in the process? Nicholas thought he knew what pain was. She came along and showed him how she could prove him wrong. 

“Do you get off on talking to me like that? Like you haven’t-“ her voice breaks, she swallows hard before continuing, “-like you haven’t spent all day today holding me, telling me how beautiful I am in my dress, how beautiful I made myself look for you. And now look at you. Hanging onto the first girl that throws herself at you.”

The monster in him that’s been clawing its way to the surface decides right then and there to bear its ugly head.

“Beats sitting alone and watching the person that won’t fuck me try to fuck someone else.” 

His words slice through her, deflating her with one sentence. His ears are ringing again, for a different reason this time. Nicholas can’t believe he just said that. Put the girl he loves in front of him in a room full of spectators and started distributing lash after lash, watching her bleed out because of him. He doesn’t notice the moment his hands start shaking, the moment the bile starts rising in his throat, the glass of her teary eyes the only thing he can focus on. Knows he can’t take this back, wishes he could, thinks it might be for the better. 

If this is something he’s capable of, he’s never deserved her in the first place.

He starts walking backwards in a daze when her hard voice stops him.

“Fuck you if you go back to her, Nicholas.”

In a voice that he doesn’t recognize, he says, “Fuck me, then.”

*** 

He ends up not doing it. 

The girl- Tara is her name, as it turns out- doesn’t seem to mind much, hands him his shirt that she gracelessly tore from his body, presses a small kiss to his cheek. 

“’m gonna go back to the party, ‘kay?”

He nods wordlessly and waits until he hears the click of the door closing, then lets himself fall heavily onto the bed in the guest room of the house. He thinks about locking the door, but his legs feel like lead, preventing him from getting up. What the hell is he doing? What the hell was he thinking, talking to her like that? His baby, his (Y/N), the girl that relies on him so heavily yet twists his heart into knots until it feels like it’s going to stop.

If he goes there with her, he knows, he’s never letting her go, and what good would that do for her? Her brilliant little self would be stuck with him, with his average grades and later his average job, hiding from their family and friends, putting on a front so they wouldn’t be questioned; with his bad temper and violent grip, his loud voice and the fear, the guilt that eats at him day in and day out. He’d pluck that beautiful rose from a prosperous garden and watch it wilt on his windowsill. Gladly, at that, so long as it’s within his eyeshot. 

Nicholas can’t do that to her. Thinking about letting her go kills him, but he can’t do that to her. 

He fixes his clothes and his hair before stepping out of the room and into the booming of the music downstairs, looking around to make sure nobody saw him. Sneaking out of the house is easy now that everyone’s too drunk to pay him any mind and he almost makes it to his car that he’s parked two houses down- away from anyone that might stumble outside and fuck with it- but luck is not on his side tonight and he gets noticed.

“How was it, huh, Nick?” he hears her voice, slurred and mean, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

Not here, not now, not like this, please. But he can’t move when she goes on.

“Was she good for you? Obedient, just the way you like? She let you throw her around, make you feel like a real big man, huh? Answer me!”

Her grip is tight as she grabs him and turns him to face her, albeit clumsily. He lets her, because at this point, he deserves every hiss and snarl she sends his way. No, he won’t answer her, same way he won’t meet her eyes, can’t.

“Why don’t you want me?” she sobs, lets her head fall forward to rest against his chest. Nicholas inhales sharply, his sight getting blurry. “I try so hard, and yet… you just don’t wan’ me. Did you get bored, is that it? Is there- Can I do anything to- to-“

“Stop!” he snaps, grabs her by her shoulders and pulls her away, looks at that tear streaked face, those blotchy cheeks, that cherry red mouth. Wants to kiss it, reels himself in, hates himself for even the thought. “(Y/N), please… please don’t.”

All at once, her face hardens.

“Don’t what!” she screams, makes him scared that someone will overhear their heated argument, but the lawn is empty of people and every house on the street is dark. “You don’t, Nicholas! Where the fuck is all of this coming from?” 

His eyes close without his say-so, trying so hard to keep his patience in check. 

“You’re the one who’s throwing this all away, and for what?” she continues, oblivious to the sound of his heart cracking. “For that girl in there? She that good, Nick?” He tenses when she gets close again, the tequila on her breath making him nauseous as she nuzzles his cheek with her nose, starts peppering his skin with kisses. “I can be just as good, big brother, I promise. Let you do anything you wan’, don’t gotta have any limits, not with you. Please, Nicholas. Please, just gimme a chance, wanna prove it to you, wanna be your good little girl, pl-“ 

“I said fucking stop it, (Y/N),” he yells when he can’t take it anymore, grabs her hair in a tight fist and yanks her head back, makes her look up at him. He’s seen that fear in her eyes before- seen it directed at him, even- but it’s always been clouded by lust, by need. Now it’s pure, unadulterated, and it makes him swallow down bile. “You think that I don’t want you, stupid girl? You think I don’t die a little every time you fucking ask me for this, and I have to say no? What have we been doing that you think this isn’t all I want? All I fucking want, you hear me?”

His cheeks are damp but he doesn’t care, can’t bring himself to stop. 

“It’s all I want,” he finishes weakly, presses his face into her hair as he tries to calm his breathing down. He loosens his grip while he’s at it, suddenly aware of every strained muscle in his body. Nicholas feels bone-deep tired. 

“So why deny us, huh? Why are you doing this to-“

“All I want,” he starts, voice hard through how shaky he’s feeling, “is to take you to parties and dance with you and kiss you when you’re tipsy, feel you up a little, take you home and tuck you into bed but I can’t. And all I want is to hold your fucking hand when we walk down the halls of our college, but I can’t. I can’t tell my friends about you, I can’t know if you’re only mine when I let you go out with your fucking friends, I can’t have any of that. How much longer, huh? How much longer can we take the hiding until it fuckin’ breaks us, baby?” 

He just wants her to see. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s doing this for her.

The tremble in her lips makes his stomach turn, knowing his words are the cause for it.

“So why pursue me in the first place, Nicholas?” she snaps, angry now, and it makes his temper rise. As if she’s the only one hurt by this. “Why not leave me alone, huh? You are the one who started this, and you pushed and you pushed and now you’re, what, scared? You should’ve just left me be, fuck!”

“Do you think I knew I’d fall in love with you when I first started this?” he bellows, ears ringing at the urgency of his words, the anger, threatening to choke him if he doesn’t get them out, consequences be damned. His grip on her arms tightens despite her wide-eyed stare. “I didn’t fuckin’ like you, (Y/N), I couldn’t stand you when I first had you. I wanted to fuck you up for being such a brat. But then,” all his bravado, all the air in his lungs leaves him at once and he gentles his hands, moves them into her hair as he eyes her face. That beautiful face. “But then you turned out to be the best girl f’me. Just needed a firm grip, didn’t you? Needed your big brother’s guidance.” 

There are tears streaming down her rosy cheeks again, stirring up something ugly in his gut. 

“You fucking ruined me, is what you did, and now that I’m trying to be selfless for once, you won’t let me! What the fuck do you want from me, huh? Fuck you!” 

She’s staring at him slack-jawed, eyes wide, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s angry and he’s drained and he wishes he were numb. There’s still some tequila in his father’s cabinet, he’ll sneak that when he gets home, drink it by the pool and do his best not to drown himself in the chlorine filled water. 

He shakes her off and steps away. “Call a cab when you decide to go home, don’t you fucking dare get in a car with those whore friends of yours, y’hear me? I mean it, (Y/N). I see you coming home in anything other than a taxi, I’ll make you regret it in a way you won’t like.” 

There’s that fear again, but that’s a good thing. Maybe that’ll make her stay away. He’s too out of it to drive, so he walks.  

*** 

He heard her enter the house last night, saw the cab drive off. It didn’t take her long to come home, and by then, Nicholas had already abandoned his plans of drinking himself into a stupor. Better to avoid that hellish hangover. He’s proud of himself today.

Leaving his room is not much of an option to him and when he really does have to, he first makes sure she’s nowhere to be found. He sneaks food into his room and only uses the bathroom once his bladder feels like bursting. It’s a small price to pay for avoiding the awkwardness that’d come with running into her.

Monday comes around and they have to leave for classes at the same time, which means they have to get ready at the same time. Nick isn’t looking forward to that. 

She stumbles out of her room when he’s on his way back to his from the bathroom, and the tense eye contact they make feels like it’s inevitable. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but he steps aside and disappears before she can, heart in his throat. He hates this. Hates it so much, wishes he didn’t have to do it, wills himself not to give in. 

The next few days pass by like that, with the air thick around them. She tries, always does, his girl isn’t one to back down that easily. For once he wishes she would.

At breakfast she sits next to him, drives her toes along his calf. He ignores it, keeps chewing his oatmeal. 

“Nicholas, please,” she whispers, conscious of their parents bustling around the house, getting ready for work. “Let’s talk.” 

It only takes a moment, but his appetite is gone. He lets his spoon fall into the bowl with a clink before he pushes his chair back, its scraping against the floor undoubtedly making gooseflesh appear on her skin, and he gets up to leave the room. Healthy breakfast and heartbroken little sister abandoned behind him, but that’s what he’s got to do. 

In the bathroom when he’s getting ready for bed, she steps behind him, presses her chest to his naked back, surely feels his pulse hammering. She knows his weak spots, so it slices like a knife when she whimpers, “Big brother, please… Please, don’t do this,” into his ear, and it takes all of his willpower to not slam her against the door and ravish her mouth right then and there. He bends to spit in the sink, doesn’t bother wiping his mouth before his sharp elbow finds her body, doesn’t hit but shoves her firmly away from him so he can exit the room. Her inhale, sharp from the hurt he just caused, stays with him until he falls into a fitful sleep. 

Ignoring her is the highest form of cruelty she thinks he can allow himself right now, but Nicholas knows better. It’d be crueler to take her for himself, keep her, keep her away from everyone and everything that isn’t him, because that is what he wants. And she’d let him. Stupid, wide-eyed girl she is, she’d let him. And he’d hate himself for it. Hate how much he’d love it.

It's been so long that he’s surprised that he still recognizes the sound of it, but once he hears it, he can’t ignore it. Grip tight on that last thread of patience, he waits with clenching fists for her bedroom door to open before he storms into the hallway, grabs her throat and slams her against the wall next to the bathroom door. Her gasp of surprise gets lost to him when he sees the apprehension, borderline fear in her eyes, but he ignores it. Finds her hand and wrenches the soiled toy from her grip, throws it on the ground and, without breaking eye-contact, crunches it under his foot. 

It satisfies him for only a second, then he feels numb.

“Who do I go to now, when I have this… problem?” she asks, voice small, and even the thought of her with someone else makes him boil over with rage.

Making sure she hears every syllable he mutters; Nicholas gets close to hiss, “I ever see you with someone else, it’ll be the end of you both, do you fucking hear me?” 

He knows it’s unfair, but she needs to know that, despite everything, she’ll never not belong to him. Not while they share a roof. 

He waits for her shaky nod before he disappears again, leaves her leaning against the wall. 

*** 

Nicholas is unsure of her play here. She doesn’t let up, no matter how many times she’s shrugged off, rejected, ignored. It pains him immensely to do that to her, but what choice does he have? His obsession had reached a new, scary height, and he doesn’t want to bear the weight of her ruin on his conscience. 

It's almost midnight, he’s had a long, shitty day- hell, a shitty week, even- and he’s looking forward to a hot shower and the softness of his mattress under his aching back. Steps sluggish, he makes his way into the kitchen, sees the leftover lasagna in the microwave and decides to heat it up despite the late hour. He’s got to be up in six hours. Fuck his life. 

He doesn’t know what’s wearing him down the most: how stressful college has been lately, how tense the atmosphere at home leaves him, or the fact that he hasn’t gotten off in days, all his fantasies looping back to his little stepsister, making him even more frustrated than before; but when he hears the pitter patter of her naked feet approaching him, he leans his forehead against the cabinet and pleads instead of ignoring, “Not now, (Y/N). Please. I can’t. Not now.”

Nicholas knows he’s a cruel man, knows what he’s capable of, how low he can stoop when he needs to, but let it be said, once and for all, that his girl is not a smidge better than he is. She observes, memorizes, pouts, attacks. She puts herself back together for the sole purpose of him having something to chip away at. That is his doing, he knows. He’s carved her into an entirely new animal. 

Rosy scent fills his nostrils when she plasters herself to his back, and he doesn’t need to look to know how stunning she is.

“Did you mean it, big brother?” she rasps, intertwines her hands in front of his stomach. At his questioning hum, she clarifies, “When you said you loved me, did you mean it?” 

The pain slices through his gut like a dull knife, and he’s so, so tired. 

He nods.

“I know,” she says, “I’ve known for a while. I can feel it.”

It’s just about the worst thing she could’ve said, her words hitting and making him crumble as he swiftly turns around, ears ringing with rage. It doesn’t take much to bring her to her knees, pliant as she is, and as soon as her glossy eyes meet his, her head cracks to the right, the shape of his palm immediately blossoming on her cheek. 

The microwave dings, but the sound is not nearly enough to snap him out of his delirium. 

Her cheeks feel soft against his fingertips when he grips them, turns her head to look at him. 

“Yeah?” he hisses, lets go and strikes her again, in the opposite direction this time. “You feelin’ it, huh? You feel loved right now, baby?” 

One more, then one more, one more, he loses count. She starts crying because this is a trigger point for her tears, he smirks devilishly because he knows that, of course he fucking knows that. But she lets him. Looks up at him again and again, after every strike, silent begging in her eyes as if she’s saying if this is what it takes to have you, I’ll give it to you, if this is what you need, I shall give it to you.

It fills him with rage, sadness, gratitude. A mix of emotions that threatens to overwhelm him. 

By the time he’s done, her cheeks are fiery red and tear stained, the skin of his hands pulsing slightly. She took it like a champ, despite the snot running down to her lip, despite her labored breathing. 

God, he’s so stupid for not checking if their parents are asleep. He should’ve, but he lost himself in her. If they had gotten caught, it would’ve been her fault, yet again. 

“That’s what it’s like, with me,” he breathes, gets really close so he can whisper those words into her mouth. “’s that what you want, little girl? Is that what love is, huh?” 

She doesn’t skip a beat.

“With us it is,” she sobs, eyes darting down to his lips and back to the chocolate of his eyes. “I love you, Nicholas.” 

Hearing those words come from that gorgeous mouth is like a round of buckshot to his brain, and he gives in, gives in to the heaven and the hell that awaits him. 

She’s easy for him to pick up- his body made to support hers, he feels like- and she immediately wraps her legs around his waist, finds his hair and pulls him towards her cherry red lips. They taste like salt and a rotten promise and he’ll take that over the heartbreak he’s felt these past few weeks any day. 

This house has been his home for long enough that he doesn’t need to watch where he’s going as he walks them to the bathroom, doesn’t need to detach his mouth from hers, doesn’t have to stop the suck of his lips around her tongue. Seating her onto the countertop, he pushes away gently and locks the door, starts the shower, takes his shirt off as he watches her do the same. Nimble fingers undo her pants, his strong grip tears them off her long legs, leaving her in a sweet matching pair of underwear. Meant for daily use, comfortable, not for the debauchery he plans for tonight. 

Well, not plans exactly, he thinks as he undoes his own belt, gets rid of his own pants under her watchful gaze. He wasn’t planning this, and he doubts that she was, either. He’s following something that feels like instinct, is taking his time as if he’s seeing her for the first time. Maybe he is, in a new light, at least. The way her eyes sparkle as they trace him top to bottom, he assumes it’s the same for her. 

They don’t break eye contact when he removes her underwear first, then his own, no need for greedy gazes. This is theirs, has been theirs, from the beginning of time. This feels like coming home. 

Legs around his torso again, one wide step into the shower, matching sighs as the steam of the hot water engulfs them. Careful not to get her hair wet, Nick angles her away from the stream, kisses her until her grip on him is lax enough to let go. An exchange of words is not needed as they watch each other through hooded eyes, as they use gentle hands and familiarly scented products to wash each other, prepare each other, take care of each other. The knot in his stomach is the tightest it’s ever been, and he knows it’s because added to the pleasure and lust is now the undoubted thrum of love he feels for her. He can’t wait to release that into her body, cock so hard it makes his skin vibrate.

While rinsing her off, he leans down to whisper, “You’re so beautiful, little girl. Your face, your body, they will bruise after tonight.”

Her head falls back onto his shoulder, getting the tiny curls on her nape wet. 

“Wanna hurt for you,” she whimpers, lip trembling. Her tears are barely visible through the steam. “I’ve missed it, Nicholas, you have no idea.”

And that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?

He indeed has no idea. He has no idea how she so willingly presents herself for slaughter by his hand. He thought himself sick and twisted, but her naked need makes even his veins run cold. 

“God, you’re so fucked, (Y/N),” he chuckles, no humor behind it. He turns her around forcefully, doesn’t ease his grip on her upper arm. He tilts his voice down a notch, coos, “Did you get dropped on your head as a baby, sweetheart? Did mommy and daddy not love you enough as a child? What happened to you that crossed your wires enough to let me do this to you, huh? Have you got no self-respect at all?”

It's all her fault. He wants, but so does she. He needs, and she lets him. Her fault. 

Her smile is gentle, almost sad, when she reaches up and tucks away a strand of his hair. 

“Maybe it’s just you.” 

Huh. Maybe it is. 

His lips feel numb as they press against hers, insistent tongue making itself a home in her too-honest mouth, and together they stumble through the process of drying each other’s skin, following rubs of a towel with kisses and licks. It’s their floor so they have no qualms about leaving the bathroom naked, and he leads them into his room automatically. He wants her surrounded by his scent, drowning in it, claimed on the outside the same way he’s going to claim her on the inside. 

Nibbling teeth graze his pounding pulse point before she whispers, “Do me bare tonight, big brother. ‘ve been on the pill for weeks now.” 

That request, those tiny words, make his brain short circuit for a second before he smashes his body into hers, throws them onto the bed together. He kisses every inch of skin he can reach without moving his head too far away from hers, wants her to see the fire in his eyes. 

“Made for me, weren’t you?” he pants between presses of lips, between the sounds of her moans, “Oughta thank your parents for this masterpiece, this wretched little fuckdoll they’ve gifted me, fuck. ‘m gonna load you up so good, you’ll have to pray that none of it takes.” 

She whines all little sister overwhelmed, grabby hands on his toned body, seeking out the cock he hasn’t let her touch in weeks. She’s a come greedy girl, always has been, playing with it every chance she gets. Tonight, he’ll make sure to breed her up good so she can find new games for her body to play. It’s his turn right now, though, the hunger for her body clawing its way up his dry throat. Skilled togue licking a path down her neck, between her breasts, over her soft tummy and to her throbbing mound, Nicholas doesn’t break eye contact as he licks a sweep across her center.

Her legs fall open obscenely, as far as they will go, and her wide eyes don’t dare look away from his face. He’s got her right where he wants her, pinned like an insect under his heated gaze.

“Missed this cunt,” he moans, parts her swollen lips with his tongue before teasing at her dripping hole, smirking at the way it’s pulsing. “Even though you haven’t been good for me, I know nothing can fill my little girl up the way this fat cock can.”

“B-been good, only t-touched once,” she stammers, and he chuckles darkly.

“Aw, only once and I caught you doin’ it? Unlucky.”

Her knuckles in her mouth keep her from screaming as he starts sucking ruthlessly on her clit, thumbs pushing her pussylips apart to tease at her entrance. He’s not going to give her prep, wants her tight and wet around him, wants to punish-fuck that cunt apart and show her what happens when she’s being a tempting little whore.

It doesn’t take long for her orgasm to crash through her smooth body, making her grip the sheets as hard as she’s gripping his hair, causing him to hide his hiss in her skin. It’s okay, though, she can hurt him all she wants. It’ll never compare to what he’s going to do to her. Spitting her own juices into her mouth and watching her swallow them down greedily, open her up for more, makes him feral. He wants to drench her in everything he can give her. 

“Nasty bitch,” he grins, makes her whine in delicious embarrassment, spits onto her tongue and smacks her on the mouth as she gulps it down. 

“Yours, Nicholas,” she moans, “Say it, please, say it, make me.”

“You’re mine,” he moans, bites into the delicate skin of her neck and holds her down through her scream. He draws a smidge of blood, can taste it, keeps it for himself. “You’ve been mine, and you always will be mine. Nobody gets to have you like I do, to fuck you up the way I will.” 

“Wan’ it, ‘m not scared.” 

That statement makes a cruel laugh escape his throat as he climbs up her body, places his knees on either side of her head, grips his cock in one hand and smacks it on her stuck out tongue a couple times, revels in her whining. His balls are aching something fierce, but it’s easier to take now that he knows she’s there to let him dump all that come inside of her.

“You oughta be,” he smirks before he grabs her hair and shoves his dick as far back into her throat as it will go, no preamble, no mercy. 

She chokes immediately, because of course she does, he hasn’t given her any time to adjust, but he doesn’t care. Nicholas’ mission for tonight is to show her that he owns her fully, and if he says she doesn’t need a voice for speaking, then he’s the one who gets to take that away from her. 

“Yeah, take that dick,” he groans through grit teeth, guiding her head back and forth the way he likes, the way she wishes she could take him, but he makes sure to keep control and have her struggle one hundred percent. “Missed this, didn’t you? Choke f’me, little girl, that’s a good stepsister.”

The thrashing sound behind him comes from her legs, but she makes no move to give him their agreed-upon sign for when she can’t safeword out, and he takes advantage of that fully. Pulls out, slaps his spit-soaked length across that gorgeous face, pushes back in. Groans at her constricting throat, cants his hips up to feel her chin against his full balls. When her tears and spit and sobs have satisfied him enough, he gets off her and pulls her into his lap, kisses her deeply.

“Need you,” she sobs against his mouth, licks his bottom lip, “Wanna feel you fucking me, I’ve waited so long, Nicholas.” 

Who is he to deny his babysister anything? 

He keeps her in his lap as he lines his cock up with her drenched pussy and pulls her down as he thrusts up in one fluid motion. A wide palm muffles her screams, and already he’s addicted to the feeling of making sure her agony goes unnoticed. It’s probably ripping at her walls on the inside, the way he so ruthlessly gave her the entirety of him, but he wants her to feel it, wants her to keep feeling it for days. 

Her body is lax, but he doesn’t mind, gives her his bicep to hold on to, snaps his hips up to feed the tightest little hole he’s ever been in, fighting through the dizziness. 

“That’s a good baby, fuck,” he pants, sucks at her chin, “yeah, scream for me. Let everyone know what your brother is doing to that cunt, you sick little fuck.”

“So de-e-ep, N-Nick,” she whines in gargled syllables, and he grins as he punches up.

“Not gonna stop ‘til your cervix is the same color as my cockhead, y’hear me?” 

“Fuck,” she whines from deep within her chest, ruts her hips against his as if in heat, and he can’t suppress the nasty grin that makes its way onto his face.

This is her being delirious with need, unapologetic in the way she’s chasing her pleasure, selfless with how she’s breathing through the pain he’s undoubtedly causing her just so he can feel good. She was made for him; he’s never been surer of anything in his messed up little life. 

A large palm on her stomach, a slight push, has her tearing up. “You feel me here, baby? I’m turning your body inside out, y’feel it?”

A shaky nod, nothing more.

He fucks her like that for a while, hauls her up and down his cock, meets her on the comedown, bites and sucks at the skin of her face and tastes the salt there. Nicholas has been close ever since he stuck his dick inside her sister-sweet pussy, but he’s good at holding it off. That self-control he keeps talking about, as you can see. He’s proud of himself.

When her body seizes up at one particularly hard thrust, he knows he’s got her number.

“That the spot, huh, baby?” he grins, bites his lip in concentration as he hits it again, gaze never leaving her bug-eyed stare. “That the spot I own? The little spot your big brother’s gonna make you come with?” 

“G-gonna, plea-please, need- need it, b-big brother, n-“

“Let go for me, (Y/N). Lemme feel my baby’s cunt clench around this fat cock.” 

It’s pure porn, the way they fuck, the way they talk- but it’s heaven, the way she clenches around him and comes with a choked cry. Her heart is hammering against his chin where he’s got it pressed to her chest, looking up at that ecstasy-stricken face. If this is heaven, she is his God. 

The fact that he has to use most of his strength to hold her down when she comes surprises him, pushes him so close to climax he has to grit his teeth until they hurt so he wouldn’t let go so soon. Her body is spasming, trying to buck off him, but he’s willed to fuck her through it until she’s shaking with it, nearing overstimulation. Once she’s done, breathing labored but body lax, he grabs her thighs and flips them so he’s on top of her, nestled deep within her guts and comfortable. When he starts giving it to her from that position, her hands start flailing until they find his back, short nails digging into his sweat-soaked skin.

“Yeah, jus’ lie there and take it,” he groans, nails her g-spot with every trust, knows where it is blindly. “Good little girl, good little fucktoy. Fuck, making my cock feel so good.”

“You’re fucking me,” she’s gasping, genuinely surprised as if she’s been in a trance so far. “Your cock is inside me. Your big fucking cock. And you’re fucking me. Fuck, Nicholas… fuck.”

It’s then that she comes again, taking them both off-guard, and Nicholas has to still completely so he wouldn’t just cream her tight pussy up right then and there. She works him good, too good. 

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he laughs, as if mesmerized, “what the fuck are you doing to me.” 

Her tears are running freely now, body shaking under his as he lines himself up and pushes in in one long, brutal thrust, giving her no time to adjust before he’s hiking her legs up over his shoulders and snapping his hips into hers. He’s close and he can feel it, bites his lip as he stares into her clouded eyes. There’s droplets of his sweat on her face and he moans when her sweet tongue darts out and licks some of them up. She’s his. She’s his and he’s hers but she is his. 

“Fuck, fuck- oh baby, gonna-“

“Come inside me, big brother,” she breathes, voice shot. “Give your baby your babies.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and lets go, loses all his brain capacity along with his load, slumps over her powerlessly when he finishes. The way she immediately starts stroking his back makes him smile into the skin of her neck, pressing a small kiss there. 

They hold each other, sweaty and sated and bone-deep tired. 

“Y’re mine now,” he whispers into the side of her face, kisses here there.

She hums.

“Been yours for a long time now, Nicholas.” 

He supposes she has. 

*** 

It’s a slow process, the getting closer without raising suspicion. They start with hanging out more, talking more where people can hear them, helping each other out with assignments and chores. Their parents love it, how they’re getting along better than ever.

 What they’ll never know is that it’s been a long while since they’ve slept in separate beds, that almost every night Nicholas fucks (Y/N) to tears while whispering what a good little sister she’s being to her big brother, that they’re the same brand of twisted and loving it. They’ll never know that each piece of furniture they help their kids pick out for the new apartment they’re moving into together, in a city far away that offers better postgrad programs than the college in the one they live in, will have their combined juices on it at some point. They’ll never know why exactly (Y/N) let herself get officially adopted by Nicholas’ father, why she chose to take on the last name everyone else in the family has been carrying for years now. They’ll never know that in that city, their kids don’t tell anyone that they’re stepsiblings, but that they’re a young married couple, having moved shortly after the wedding to start a new life together, that the little detail about their relation is something they only mention when Nicholas is balls-deep inside his little girl and wants to make her even wetter than she was before. They’ll never know that Nicholas loses his temper, sometimes, and decorates their little girl’s cheek with his fingerprints. They’ll never know how she cries when he does, but he’s her big brother who knows what’s best for her, so she lets him. 

They’d never understand that this is what makes them happy. They’re together, they’re happy, and it’s all his doing. He did this, built this relationship up, nurtured it into something livable. He did this, not her. 

He did. 

taglist (imma tag this off the top of my head sorryyy): @exqorcism @lalavenderangel @nicholaschavezbby @emluvsuxo @hoeforanakin @faeromis @niteskysx @makebanks @aisforarlili @khloberry <3

[sareenawails]

ROBIN HOOD HOBIE

YIPPEE OCTOBIE WEEK 3!!

I wanted to make something that looked more realistic and colorful

I'm really proud of myself for this one!

Here's his full outfit

I think I did an ok job at making it feel medieval but I didn't want to lose Hobie's punkness

References

octobie event by @the-kr8tor

banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Robin Hood au

-I voted for medieval theme just cuz I wanted the excuse to draw this lol

-Anyways here’s very bad and lazy plot summary of this hobie au

-English is not my first language so if this is bad please bear with me I'm not a writer for a reason.

-Like the original folklore tale, this is set in medieval England

-Hobie is an outlaw, who with a group of other outlaws called the Merry Band ( originally called merry men but I don't like that soo), steals from the wealthy and gives back to the poor

-He goes by the name Robin Hood to hide his identity( so he’s less easy to track idk)

-Anyways, in this universe Y/N (or an OC whatever you prefer) is part of the royal family or a wealthy noble family.

-They are very sheltered due to the death of loved one (probably their mom or sister)- left their father very emotionally scarred, so he’s very overprotective of them

-for whatever reason, y/n and hobie run in into each other and hobie steals an expensive piece of jewelry from them(necklace, bracelet, brooch, whatever doesn’t really matter)

-This piece of jewelry however holds a lot of emotional value to them because it was given to them by their aforementioned deceased loved one.

-They manage to run into hobie again ( probably because they were trying to track him down and he catches on to what they were doing and decided to confront them) and tries to get their heirloom back

-He tells Y/N that he’ll give them their heirloom back if and only if they become a sort of spy for him. Someone who spends time around nobles and wealthy merchants and can give him insider information ( Who has the most money, whos an easy target, where and when would he be able to find them, etc useful info)

-Y/N is obviously very put off by this offer, after all their whole life they’ve been raised to be a respectable figure in their kingdom. Working with one of the kingdom’s most wanted criminals would be a dangerous, bizzare thing to do; It could get them in serious trouble with the law, bring shame to their family’s name, get them disowned all together.

-The risk is big but their desire to get their heirloom back is even bigger, so reluctantly they agree.

-From them their odd relationship begins. It’s a very enemies to friends to lovers kind of thing (I'm basic I know)

- Y/N sees hobie as a dirty criminal who wants to take advantage of them and would throw them under the bus if the need arises

-Hobie sees them as nothing more than another pompous noble who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves.

-It’s a very “strictly business” relationship due to their refusal to get along with each other.

-The longer they spend working together the more they get to know more about the other's side of the story.

-Hobie learns about how sheltered Y/N is, how they have a double life as commoner and royal, and how much they yearn for a more independent life. He learns that y/n is not as selfish and heartless as he thought they were, they’re just naive about a lot of things.

-Y/N learns about what hobie’s life was like growing up as one of the many unfortunate people in the kingdom. Having to scrounge and steal in order to survive, having to go on days on an empty stomach in order to save what little he had. They learn why he chose to do the things he does and that he and his crew are purposefully painted in bad light as criminals for doing what the rich aren’t willing to do.

-As they get closer they start looking out for each other more

-Y/N helps him cover up his tracks, using their high status to get him out of sticky situations. Sometimes they even help him patch up his wounds.

-In turn, hobie gives them a taste of that freedom they’ve always wanted. Going out and showing them parts of the kingdom they never seen before

Anyways that's all I really have I thought of this at like 2 am so it's not really that good.

If any actual writers feel inspired by this and want to write a better, more well thought out version then be my guest ( plz tag me i'd love to read it!)

HAPPY OCTOBIE EVERYONE!!

[goingmerryfics]

Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk

Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.

Shanks

Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between

Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion

Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him

“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”

Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained

The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing

Especially when it comes to keeping you safe

Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm

While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned

Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain

He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk

But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue

You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you

He doesn’t touch you

It’s painfully silent for a while

Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension

“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”

You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours

He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it

He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe

“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

You do

You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms

Buggy

Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here

Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it

Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through

But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another

Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating

Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though

Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life

Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though

He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal

“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”

He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose

He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin

He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago

As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious

He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again

It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again

“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place

“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”

He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose

He looks like a damn mess

It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you

he pouts up at you and you cave

He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long

Mihawk

If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it

Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you

Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes

He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?

But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is

Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt

Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book

This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away

“Darling, we need to talk right away.”

Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night

The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone

So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge

Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning

But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability

He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does

And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are

If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.

“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”

It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place

You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence

He can work with that

He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small

He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect

[alwaysmoncheri]

hiii would u be open to writing remus lupin x reader with the prompt *x put head on y’s shoulder* “just don’t leave…” with either remus saying it or the reader? no worries if not <3 🦌🦌

hi, my love!! thank you for requesting! i hope this is what you’re looking for! i was in a little bit of a writer block last night so this may not be my best work, i apologize for that, honey </3

cw: fem!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of remus being a werewolf, remus feels insecure, the marauders not being very helpful, established relationship, crying, 0.9k

<3

Remus isn’t one to hide who he is, you know he’s a werewolf, he’s been vulnerable with you before, so when he starts to become a little distant from you, you know exactly why. The past few days have been rough for him, you know. Leading up to a full moon is almost always worse than the aftermath. But this time, Remus seems particularly bothered. He still holds your hand to classes and reads to you at night, but something about the way he always is distracted, like loosely holing your hand without knowing and constantly losing his place while reading makes you feel like his mind is truly elsewhere.

The Marauders aren’t helping the situation either. Sure, they’re supportive of their friend and you know they’re always there for him, but the pitying glances don’t go unnoticed by both you and Remus and you don’t presume he is very fond of those looks. You don’t blame him.

At dinner, the night before the full moon, James, Sirius, and Peter keep repeating the same set of motions. Their eyes dart from each other, their food, to Remus, and back to each other. You fight the urge to roll your eyes at their obvious display of concern because Remus doesn’t really need that right now and they should know that after all this time. After tolerating the silent glances for the majority of dinner, Remus shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving his food. You gently slide your hand into his, hoping offer some comfort, and when he accepts you take it a step furthur and draw small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand. This doesn’t last long. When the other three boys offer sympathetic smiles, Remus notices and stands from his seat, dropping your hand and walking out of The Great Hall with quick strides.

“Would you guys quit it?” you hiss at the boys across the table who’s eyes widen at the abrupt snap of your head in their direction.

“What?” They reply in unison and share a few nervous glances before returning to your harsh gaze.

“Remus clearly isn’t doing well,” you say, pointing out the obvious, “the least you can do is not look at him like he’s dying.” you add gesturing in the direction of the door, where Remus had walked out of.

“We’re not—”

“Save it,” you cut James off, who makes an attempt to defend the three of them. You roll your eyes, standing from your seat, “I’m going to check on him.” you state before following the previous path of your boyfriend, out the door and to your dorms.

When you arrive in the common room and head towards the boys’ dorm you hear quiet sobs echoing through the door. Your throat tightens and you hesitate to move towards the sound, but you do anyway because you know Remus needs somebody and you’re always willing to be that somebody.

“Remus?” you call out before pushing the door open and are met with a sniffling Remus, eyes red and puffy. Your heart almost breaks in two, the sight enough to make you feel the clenching in your chest and for a moment, you unknowingly hold your breath.

“Hey, lovely.” Remus greets and his voice cracks with the attempt to cover a sob that might’ve escaped his lips.

“Oh, honey.” you whisper and Remus bows his head, with shame or just to wipe the tears off his face, you don’t know. You walk towards the bed before sitting next to him, hand rubbing his shoulder, slowly sliding down to hold his hand, once more, “Do you want to talk about it?” you offer, bringing Remus to lift his head up and meet your gaze, a lump grows in your throat at his broken expression and you try to keep it together for him.

“I’m just so tired—” Remus starts, before a sob escapes his lips. He reaches out for you and you don’t hesitate to bring him into your arms, his head rests on your shoulder, your hands cupping the back of his neck, while his hands wrap around you waist, “ —I don’t want to be like this anymore.” Remus admits, his voice breaking and you feel your shirt dampen with tears.

“Hey, I’m here.” you say, gently running your hands through Remus’s hair and up and down the length of his back, “James, Sirius and Peter are here.” You add and you feel Remus’s sobs turn to sniffles against your shoulder. “Even if they get on your nerves, they mean well.”

“I know…” Remus says, the sound muffled against your shoulder. He lifts his head, your eyes meeting his puffy ones, “Is it okay if we just stay like this?” Remus asks hesitantly, as if you would ever say no to him.

“It’s more than okay.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. You start to shift your body further onto the bed before Remus’s tight grip around your waist prevents you from doing so. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion before hearing Remus’s desperate voice.

“Don’t leave me, please…” Remus begs, clinging onto you.

I’m never going to leave you,” you reply and Remus nods continuously against your shoulder, his hair falling into his face and brushing yours, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Remus says, his voice shaky but calmer than before, “I don’t know what I would do without you.” He admits and your heart warms with his words.

You smile, pulling the both of you back onto his bed in a more comfortable position with his head still tucked into your shoulder, “And you’ll never have to know,” you whisper before you close your eyes and allow yourself to rest.

<3

masterlist . remus lupin masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @jordie-gvf, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker, @moonsupremacy01, @enamoredwithbella

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[bettergiftsthenteeth]

Lottie, Shauna and Tai all not wanting to go back because they don’t know who they’ll be without the wilderness.

They both have had to experience horrific things that seemed to have changed them more than anyone else.

Lottie experiencing delusions and religious psychosis and not knowing what was real or fake, believing so deeply in “It” that she looses all touch with reality and logic, and everyone just feeding into it or calling her crazy.

Shauna having lost her best friend she was in love with because of her own actions, then having a baby and hallucinating feeding and connecting with him only for him to be stillborn and then going through postpartum depression and not knowing what to do with all of her anger and pain and it changing her so deeply she’s unrecognizable.

Taissa losing control of her own body and mind because of the trauma of the crash and almost losing the love of her life, and this other version of herself isn’t necessarily bad but she is willing to do whatever it takes to keep herself and Van safe and together including ruining their chance of getting out so that she won’t lose her.

They all are connecting through the changes they’ve experienced and they’re making each other worse but they’re also the only ones who can truly understand each other.

They all would ruin their chances of being rescued because of their own fears of what they will become when forced back into civilization.

[adaedellta]

Epic the musical soulmate au

Where nothing changes but all the words make you a lot sadder

I’ve been on a soulmates AU kick recently and thinking about the Ithaca Saga so imagine a first words tattooed on your body trope with young Odysseus and Penelope and he’s a little intuitive having heard of Penelope and thinking she’s so cool then he sees her and gets this feeling she’s the one

Maybe it’s an Athena’s pupil thing maybe they’re such a perfect match for each other that he can feel it in his bones but he has this almost tangible cord pulling him towards her

But he’s there tryna wingman for Menelaus, talks to Tyndareus abt the oath idea and when the king responds well he maybe quietly implies he’s set his sights on Penelope, and maybe Helen and Penelope are somewhere nearby just close enough to hear Odysseus’ pitch but not so close they hear his goals(I can’t find a solid source online for their first meeting so I’m making stuff up) and after, penelope is intrigued by him and he’s somewhere close and she comments something like “he chooses his words well” to Helen. and he’s like stupid smart, trying to impress her, even his subconscious is focused on her and he hears and says something like “it’d take a fool to be insolent in your presence” to her

and it clicks in her head immediately that those are her words and without any shock or question she just says “you’re mine”

And they’re so sickeningly in love, they call back to their words often, he’ll say “I’d be a fool to___” and she’ll repeat “you’re mine” and almost never call him his name favoring lovey nicknames like “my love” and “my dear”

And when he goes off to war she says “you’ll come home to me, you’re mine” and he says “It’d take a fool not to return to your presence”

Then things go south, but through his journey it’s all he thinks, that he has a promise to keep. When he loses his crew, when he faces and befriends Circe, hears his fallen brethren and family in the underworld, the sirens song having an almost “I’m yours” tone as opposed to “you’re mine”, he evades Scylla, he makes Zeus’ choice, all thinking “it would take a fool not to return to your presence”

And calypso, she doesn’t have the words of a soulmate. it’s a fate confined to humanity, from when Zeus split mortals in two and forced their souls to be forever reaching to connect the puzzle til they finally unite. But she knows what they are. And just like her using his sleep-spoken trauma against him, calling back to his dead friends and family, she repeats “you’re mine” in love in paradise even dipping into “my dear” and “my love” despite his unending denial of her affections. It puts even more emphasis on his already rightful aggression and pain at what should only be said by Penelope

Then “I plan to put an end to all the foolishness” in dangerous he already wasn’t going to let anything stop him but now he’s willing to do straight up anything (and he does) to get home. He has a firm belief. he would rather be savage and merciless than be foolish because in his eyes there is nothing worse.

And when he becomes monstrous, how will he sleep at night??? “NEXT TO HIS WIFE” we all say in unison.

That’s not even mentioning Penelope, she spent 10 years pushing back the suitors, because Odysseus is coming home, she knows her husband, he is no fool. He will come back to her. She will not let anything go, and she will keep what is hers. The suitors all having an approach of having her turning their already flat chances into the negatives, especially Antinous’ threats in hold them down all having a message of taking from her where to be with Penelope is to give her all of yourself so she can do the same in turn.

And he absolutely fucks shit up, the suitors and their threats, the harm they’ve dealt to his family, the way they continue to try nothing but take what’s Penelope’s, what’s his. Their foolishness will not be tolerated. The actions they’ve taken to his wife, to his son, the greatest creation their love has ever made, they didn’t stand a chance against the guy who just fought god and won.

And then what everyone has been waiting on for the entire musical the absolute masterpiece that is would you fall in love with me again will never not be heart wrenching. He’s not just asking her if she could look past all he did, fall in love with the man he’s become. He doesn’t know if he still deserves her, if he’s too far gone to be worthy, He’s asking “am I still yours”

And she’s as cunning as ever, even after every year they spent apart she will always know exactly how to push his buttons, how to set him off, how to force him to convey his desperation for her, and hell she’s from Sparta of course she’s gonna be into him after all that. The second he turns his back in shame she’s probably twirling her hair and fanning her face knowing what he did all to keep his promise and return to her. And she gives him the reassurance that he needs, tricks him into proving that no measure of distance and time could ever take away or change what they have, and for the first time in 20 years he hears her say “you’re mine” and it shatters any apprehensions and self doubt because he’s still Penelopes.

And overall it changes literally nothing about the plot or the storyline and only serves to make things a hundred percent more sad and angsty

and I’ve had this eating away at my brain all through a piercing appointment and shopping with my mom and sibling all day I can finally rest now that it’s escaped my head

[haveihitanerve]

Cheevo and Stewie because I didn't think much about them but then Tom said smth during the live afterwards and fuckin hell i don't even remember what he said anymore but argh now these side characters are the main characters in my head and-

Stewie and Cheevo because Cheevo’s an excited puppy dog who just does what he enjoys and gets to do it with his best friend and is having a grand old time all around and Stewie who is going through an existential crisis and anxious and grasping at straws and trying to find meaning in his life- and maybe he doesn't have it but maybe Cheevo is his anchor to earth and the reason he keeps going and Cheevo provides that need for contact that grounding support and makes Stewie laugh and their cubicles are right next to each other- albeit in a bad location and Cheevo probably chose to do that and Stewie didn't have the heart to say no and followed him anyway even though he’s right next to the door and inside the kitchen and Stewie accidentally ruins Cheevo’s innocence with his thoughts but the reversal of roles allows him to confirm his own potential and strength and reaffirm himself by affirming Cheevo and they’re more than colleagues and they’ll “find out together” no matter what and they judge people together and are uncomfortable together and even when Cheevo starts to regret his choices when the zombie enters- he never once before felt regret for it because Stewie never made him feel bad about about it, and Stewie protects Cheevo and calms him down and is willing to confront people for him and Stewie moves to defend Cheevo the second the zombie starts advancing because he’s not sure whats going on yet but he doesn't like it and then beats the everloving shit out of the undead man because he dared to hurt his friend but he didn't let Cheevo die- he couldn't and against his will kept him alive and built him into the radiotower where they worked because Cheevo put the numbers in and then they were there and he loved spreadsheets and even though he’s dangerous and infected Stewie cant kick him out of his city that he builds to protect against zombies and stop anyone from ever having to go through his pain and Stewie is so grief stricken and paranoid that he never lets anyone leave his city because to leave is to get hurt- hurt like Cheevo and he cant even remember his own name he just knows Cheevo and he cant let them out cant let them get hurt cant have another Cheevo- and he makes Cheevo able to communicate with anyone and anything and everywhere because Cheevo should be able to talk to other people, Cheevo should be free of Stewie and he should be allowed to spread his goodness to the world but he cant because Stewie wasn't fast enough, he wasn't good enough he wasn't suspicious enough to stop the zombie and- when Mike and his dad find Cheevo Stewie immediately walks between them and goes to Cheevo because no one is allowed to get near Cheevo again not again not again not again- and Cheevo is still good and pure and everything Stewie’s not and he offers more room, more solutions and it breaks Stewie to go against his friend to be the “bad guy” but he cant risk any more he cant lose anymore he’s already lost Cheevo once and-

And Stewie apologizes to Cheevo before he moves to make him broadcast the city is destroyed. And when Stewie’s throat get slit Cheevo reaches for him, wants to touch him but he’s gone again and Cheevo apologizes to his friend because he didn't mean to- 

Anyway. Stewie and Cheevo. 

[ecargmura]

Wind Breaker Episode 19 Review - Love Yourself

Don’t let the haters soil your experience and opinion with this episode! Haters can’t tell what a beautiful and mature episode this is because they’re too dumb and close-minded! This really gives insight on who Tsubaki is and how he became the way he is. If you’re wondering about the sudden Tsubaki introspective, it’s because he’s going to play a huge role in the next arc—it’s not a spoiler because it’s shown in the opening!

I really relate to Tsubaki’s internal struggles in his childhood. As he was a boy who liked girly stuff but couldn’t bring himself to accept it, I was a girl who loved ‘boyish’ things like Yugioh cards, Pokemon and even video games. The girls around me didn’t really care much about those things as they loved to talk about boys, fashion and other things that’s considered ‘girly’. While I did have my fair share of liking feminine things like dolls and such, I do admit that I had considered myself odd amongst girls as I hated skirts and dresses, but I still liked having long hair. Fortunately, I do admit that my family have been a positive influence in my life where they never really forced gender norms onto me. While I still had a feminine side, they never really forced me to let go of what I love. It’s just hard to find self-acceptance in my teenage years since I was so…different, whether it be amongst girls or even my fellow Korean-Americans. Unlike Tsubaki who accepted himself for who he was in elementary school, it really took a long time for me to fully accept who I was. I think I was around 17-18 when I fully realized that this is me and decided to not be bothered by those around me anymore. I love games. I love anime. I love books. I love writing. I love dresses. I love dogs. I love baggy clothes. I love what I love. This is me. F*ck anyone who forces me to be who I am not.

It was really sweet to see how the sunny Ito and his late wife Yui were such positive influences in Tsubaki’s life—they’re not even related to him! What I like is that they’re not prejudice because they’ve lived a long life to the point that they’ve become accepting of what is and isn’t normal—in a way, they’ve become wiser and more open-minded with age. I also like that Ito still loved his wife even after so long and that only losing her made him feel uncertainty due to loneliness. You know he was really in love with her for him to think those thoughts because she had been everything to him. Also, you can tell they loved each other if they’re willing to be the drippiest couple in town and flaunt it with pride. That’s a power couple right there.

I do like that the impact the three first years had on Ito. While there isn’t any punching or fighting, they served a purpose and that’s to make Ito happy. Remember that being a part of Furin means to protect town and to protect the town means to protect what’s in it, whether it means the people, buildings, animals and nature. Sakura provided confirmation that Yui did love Ito. Nirei provided a reason for them to visit him again as he empathized with Tsubaki’s story and the impact the elderly man had on him. Suo provided flower language trivia as the flowering tree Ito planted has meaning, but it was also another proof of Yui’s love for her husband. They’re such good kids.

Clover Works really does love to flex their voice actor budget because Ito and Yui got high quality voice actors! Ito is voiced by Hochu Otsuka, who is known for voicing Jiraiya from Naruto and Urokodaki from Demon Slayer! I honestly didn’t realize it was him until I had to look up his name because his voice sounded a lot chipper than his usual roles. Yui is voiced by Fumi Hirano who is known for being the voice actress of the OG anime darling Lum from Urusei Yastura back in the 80’s and Lum’s mother in the modern remake! She’s got that distinct tone that makes her voice recognizable! Not only do they have high quality voice actors, but young Tsubaki got a high quality VA too! His childhood self is voiced by Chika Anzai who you might know as Chisato from Lycoris Recoil! Like I said, Clover Works really does love to flex their casting prowess.

I’m sorry that I poured out a bit of my personal life onto this review. It just resonated with me, so I couldn’t help but to get a bit too personal. Besides, the episode has a good message about self-acceptance. I honestly loved this episode! I can’t wait to see the transition to the next arc because the respite will come to an end as the fighting will return! What are your thoughts about this episode! Let me know in the comments or in my straw page!

[arbitraryappellation]

Thinking about parallels between Misa and Light. Both of them present themselves as these conventionally attractive, ideal archetypes of people: Light is the police chief’s well-mannered son, a popular student at a prestigious university. Misa is a beautiful model, singer, and actress (and oh, does she act). The idea of either of them being a mass murderer is incredibly dissonant with their presented identities, and they’re able to come off as less suspicious the more they perform.

Kira stuff aside, they've been performing since before the Death Notes got involved. Not covering up murders but putting a lot of effort into editing their personalities, exaggerating desirable traits and hiding unflattering ones. Light played the role of a good-natured student when he was really arrogant, annoyed with his classmates, and disillusioned with his life in general. And as a woman in the entertainment industry, Misa constantly has to present a version of herself that is altered to be more cute and palatable. I think it’s safe to assume she does this outside of her job too, especially when it comes to interacting with men who underestimate her or trying to make Light love her.

And then there’s the way Light holds on to self preservation—he refuses the eye deal over and over because he wants to last as long as he can in his new world—while Misa cuts her lifespan in two again and again. (and still manages to outlive him, and still decides to jump off that building.) They take opposite actions that come from the same core desire to be part of something meaningful, something that can fill the voids inside themselves. Light wants something he can live for, Misa wants someone she can die for.

Misa devotes herself to Light wholeheartedly while Light doesn’t care about her beyond being able to use her. Misa is willing to destroy herself for the pursuit of love, while Light is willing to destroy the parts of himself that crave love. And sure, you could argue that Light was never going to love Misa in the first place (especially if you read him as gay or just uninterested) and that his lack of feelings for her isn’t due to repression. But in chapter 30 Light thinks to himself, “I can’t develop feelings. That’s how most idiots screw up.” I’m thinking of this restriction he gives himself, rather than the absence of feelings he has for Misa in particular, when I talk about Light not allowing himself to love.

Speaking of love, L and Rem die at the same time. Light loses the only person who’s ever fully known him, while Misa loses the only person who’s ever shown her unconditional love (not counting her parents since we don’t see them onscreen). They’re left with each other: two people chasing after ideals that they’ll never reach. Light will never love Misa the way she wants him to, and Light’s new world will never come around. And maybe they don’t even truly want these things; maybe they just tell themselves that they do.