#but I most often use them to in some way grow my love for both characters

[queerweirdness]

After being friends for long enough, Steve and Robin had managed to almost completely merge into one person. They shared a bed, a cover, a shower, two closets, and as of late, one gender.

Robin had never been the girliest girl in the world, so she didn't really question having the urge to dress more masculine. Steve however, had been the king of Hawkins high. He did sports, he acted tough, he got in fights, all the normal macho man things. After hanging around robin long enough, he realized that she wears her jeans so baggy and he wears his so tight that they could just share clothes. Her shirts always looked a little short on him, but he knew he was a bit of a slut.

She liked to say that he infected her with his ‘white boy ways’. He taught her how to shotgun beer, how to scale a tree then a roof so she could sneak into Nancy's. They both knew she could just walk in, Karen and Ted liked her enough to let her sleep over, but she liked the thrill of sneaking around, as well as randomly showing up and surprising Nancy. She started walking around his house in a sports bra, the closest to shirtless she felt comfortable walking around. She starts wearing backwards baseball caps. They stand on top of the quarry and throw rocks in together. Any time one makes a big splash they say “hell yeah” in unison. The first time they went to a party together he made her play beer pong and almost cried because of how proud he was when she won.

She in turn infected him with white girl ways. She gave him crop tops, she styled his hair more feminine, she converted him to using strawberry lip gloss instead of chapstick, and made him jump and dance to Madonna with her. What he didn't expect though was that he grew to like looking feminine. He let his hair grow out a little, cut the hems off some of his shirts so they were a bit cropped, wore short shorts in the summer, and eventually let robin paint his toenails since he always wore close toed shoes. It was a personal enjoyment, only for the two of them. 

One day he made a leap and asked her to do his makeup. They weren't going anywhere that day, just sitting around the house making fun of each other while her parents were on some anniversary vacation. He had let Nancy do his makeup once when they were together and secretly loved how it made him look. She of course agreed, practically dashing up the stairs and dragging him by the wrist. She sat him on the bed and wheeled over her makeup cart. She didn't do her makeup that often, just wore eyeliner most days, but she still had a fuckton of makeup for some reason. 

She made him lay back on the pillows while she straddled him. It wasn't that odd for them. They were always touching in some way, and always in each other's lap when they were able to be. He let her climb on top of him, a little nervous about getting his makeup done for some reason. He knew it was just some powder and lipstick, but it still gave his hands a slight shake. They talked casually as they did it, Robin explaining what everything was and what it was for. 

“Babe I love you and you know I don't mind you sitting on my lap but can you please scoot up a little? You're squishing my dick every time you lean in.” Robin immediately sat up and gave him the bitchiest look as she moved forward to balance her weight more on his hip bones.

“Please don't talk about your dick while I'm straddling you,” she laughed.

“Well next time don't sit directly on my dick,” he shot back. The way she repositioned herself was much better though. 

“Okay, time for the serious talk.”

“Oh shit. What's going on?”

“I’m having a bit of a crisis. I don’t really know what I'm feeling. I know I'm a guy. I've always known that. But sometimes.. I don't know, it's almost like I feel like a girl some days. And I know that sounds dumb. How can I only be a guy some days? That doesn’t make sense. But sometimes I get in my crop tops and tight jeans and I feel like a girl. And I love it. But I don't know what that means. Please help me.”

“I think I know what you mean. I feel like a boy sometimes. I feel so good walking around practically shirtless and acting like a guy with you. I thought I was the only one who felt that way. Some days it even feels like I'm neither. I’m just in some kind of middle space. I don’t know what it means either. But I'm glad to know I'm not alone in that feeling.”

“Do you ever not like your name? Sometimes on my, like, girl days I hate being called Steve. I like being around you and Eddie on those days because he calls me princess and sweetheart and all that shit. You call me Stevie or babe and I like it more than Steve. I also like being called all of that on my boy days too.”

“I'm okay with Robin most days but sometimes on my boy days I like Robbie more. Are you Steve or Stevie today?”

“Stevie, I think. I feel like a girl. Can you also use she on me? I think I might like that.”

“Yeah babe. I can call you she. I’m also a girl today. C’mon. Your makeup is done. Let's go look.”

They walk to the bathroom together and Stevie can feel herself sweating. She’s excited to see it but also terrified. When she finally sees herself in the mirror, she can’t stop smiling. Her cheeks and eyelids are dusted with a pretty pink color, and her lips are all glossy. Her eyelashes look ten times longer. She thinks it’s because of the mascara Robin put on her. She turns and scoops Robin into a bear hug, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 

“Stevie, if you cry off that makeup I will skin you in your sleep. C’mon I want to get a picture. She follows Robin back to the bedroom and sits on the bed while she waits for her to find her camera. Robin finds it after digging in her closet for a moment.

“Say cheese” Stevie is already smiling so hard she thinks her face might crack open. Once the picture prints, robin grabs a sharpie and writes ‘Stevie’s first makeup as a girl’ along with the date. She sticks it in her drawer along with all their other pictures.

[jrwiyuri]

Do ppl actually care a lot about certain ships? Like in of itself even aside from the fact that it brings up certain representation?

[novy2sirius]

random astrology notes volume 4

༄ ҉ tw: trauma and abuse - please do not read this post if you’re sensitive to any of these subjects and understand that astrology does not guarantee anything

༄ ҉ these notes are based upon isolated placements and aspects, so take these with a grain of salt and remember that the entire chart matters

☁️ every taurus i’ve met has been super shy in the beginning but then once i get to know them they’re one of the craziest people i’ve ever met. i think it’s crazy when i see people call them boring. if you think they’re boring it usually means they haven’t come out of their comfort zone around you yet. what i love about them is that they can be really fun but at the same time have a good balance of knowing when to be serious/chill as well

☁️ cancer suns are often good at understanding peoples emotions and if evolved this can be a good thing because they will have a sweet and caring nature. if unevolved though this could manifest as them trying to emotionally manipulate others and use their weaknesses against them

☁️ i’ve heard people say leo’s or sagittarius’ have the biggest egos but from my perspective it’s the pisces suns. i believe this to be true when they’re unevolved because the sun is associated with the ego and pisces is ruled by both jupiter and neptune. jupiter represents abundance and neptune represents delusion which means having an abundance of ego and extreme delusion in regards to your identity/self

☁️ libra suns daddy issues aren’t talked about enough. the sun is associated with the father and it’s in fall when in the sign libra. 7h suns can also have a hard time forming a close bond with their father because of this since the 7th houses natural ruler is libra, or they could have a father who was abusive in some way

☁️ pisces tend to do this thing where they try to heal everyone around them and have this mentality of “i can fix them”.. trust me you can’t fix everyone. it’s best to be with people who bring out the best version of you and help you grow as a pisces

☁️ everyone i know with a gemini moon in the 9th house is fucking hilarious. like i die every time i’m with them. they’re also just really friendly usually and i feel like i learn so much random things when i’m with them. some of these things may not even be useful but it still fascinates me

☁️ gemini/sagittarius risings typically have lots of hobbies. they usually dabble in everything and are happiest when they’re constantly doing something or learning new things. when they sit still for too long or isolate themselves they usually spiral into a depression from what i’ve seen

☁️ every person i know with a capricorn rising or capricorn rising degree (10°/22°) talks in such a classy and intelligent way. for example: ariana grande, olivia rodrigo, jenna ortega, etc. they come off as old souls to me. a lot of them have dry humor as well

☁️ gemini/virgo placements make really good mental health advocates and are good at relating to others and making them feel like they’re not alone. especially if these signs are in their big six

☁️ everyone talks about mars/pluto in 1h people coming off as intimidating but chiron in 1h people be scaring me too sometimes. i don’t know what it is. some people say chiron has no effect on appearance but when in the 1h i’ve noticed it does make someone have an rbf and seem like they’re judging everyone when they’re not

☁️ venus at 27° can indicate being attracted to really intelligent and spiritual people. the downside is sometimes it can bring challenges in your love life due to numerology. 2 doubles the energy of any number it’s next to and 7 is the most challenging number when it comes to romance. this isn’t because anything is wrong with people that have this placement but because people with this placement are often extremely misunderstood by others. even when it comes to their platonic connections

☁️ placements that are at 1° in your chart can show areas in which you may be more immature or have a lot of growing to do. someone having more than two of these degrees could indicate anger issues and having a big ego if the person is at a lower vibration in life

☁️ the sun/uranus at 5° can indicate someone who’s a daredevil and loves having fun and doing a lot of crazy shit. random but they always have the weirdest kinks also

☁️ chiron can tell about your traumas. for example: having it in the 9th house can indicate having deep spiritual wounds involving religious trauma

☁️ juno to jupiter synastry is not ideal in my opinion considering jupiter (zeus) in mythology cheated on juno. more ideal marriage asteroids would be orpheus (3361) to eurydike (75) synastry because orpheus in mythology literally crawled into hell for his wife eurydike. if these asteroids are conjunct, sextile, or trine in synastry it can be very beneficial for a relationship and indicate loyalty as well as the man’s willingness to do anything for the woman

☁️ the fama asteroid (408) tells the specifics of someone’s fame and what it’s like for them as well as drama they tend to get into when famous. for example: hailey bieber and justin bieber have fama to venus synastry and they’re a famous couple but there’s lots of drama surrounding their relationship as well

☁️ venus in the 12th house in composite is so underrated. i see such beautiful couples with this placement. it typically indicates a couple having a deep spiritual connection and possibly knowing one another in multiple past lives. there is the possibility of an obstacle involving delusion in the relationship if there’s harsh aspects to this placement though

☁️ hot take: if you think 6th house energy in synastry or composite is boring it’s likely because you enjoy toxicity or crave someone who acts uninterested in you (at least a little bit). 6th house energy creates the desire to constantly be doing things for one another and helping each other. it makes you want to constantly improve the relationship together. at worst it usually only means being judgmental or critical of each other, but this is typically for the sake of wanting improvement to occur in the relationship or having concern for the other person about something

☁️ a 10th house stellium in composite isn’t always related to being work partners, doing things for the public, or being famous together. the 10th house is also associated with responsibility and stability. this stellium can create a long term relationship/friendship where two people bring out the more humble and responsible sides of one another because of this. at worst it could create a dynamic where one person feels like the other is too bossy and acts like their parent

☁️ having your venus in the 10th house in a relocation chart can mean being more likely to gain success and wealth in that specific location. you could possibly meet lovers through work as well or socialize a lot more in that area. you could even possibly become famous there for something involving the arts such as acting/theater, singing, dancing, painting, etc

☁️ in my personal opinion i think sun lines really are the best lines to live under in your astro world map. there isn’t a lot of cons to them besides maybe having an ego death or obstacles involving the ego in general. other than that these lines can show locations where we’re happiest, attract success, feel most confident, and can gain lots of popularity or even fame

☁️ living under your sun and pluto line in your astro map at the same time will cause you to have lots of ups and downs with happiness. one day you could feel on top of the world and the next you could feel like you wanna reincarnate into a rock instead of going on

☁️ living under a moon zenith on your astro map can be challenging emotionally if your soul is at a lower vibration at the time. you could experience lots of depression or feel more sensitive in a location with a moon zenith. if you’re at a higher vibration this zenith can bring lots of creativity and help your soul grow emotionally though

☁️ your D9 chart in vedic astrology can give hints about what your spouses name will be

☁️ in 2026 people born under the horse vietnamese zodiac will have a beneficial year or learn a very important lesson that helps them in the long run. since it’s a 1 universal year people born under the horse year are especially likely to become more confident this year and have lots of important new beginnings in their life

☁️ in 2027 people born under the ox vietnamese zodiac should lay low. this is because it’s their enemy year and typically in our enemy year either bad karma strikes or we must learn really challenging lessons. as long as you’re a good person this isn’t a negative thing though

☁️ in 2027 people born under the goat vietnamese zodiac will have a beneficial year or learn a very important lesson. since this is an 11 universal year people born under the goat are especially likely to becoming more spiritual this year or gain fame during this year

[larluce]

Merlin traveling back in time to save Arthur AU but with a twist!!

Merlin makes it to the sidhes, bringing a barely breathing Arthur with him. As expected, they ask for a price and Merlin offers his life, ignoring Arthur's protests.

Sidhe1: You're inmortal you can't die

Sidhe2: And even if you could, killing you would mean killing magic itself, therefore killing the earth itself.

Merlin: (crying desperate) I don't care! Take what you need! My blood, my magic, anything! Just save him!

Sidhe1: (smiling evily) I might know just the thing.

They never tell him what are they going to take from him, but he agrees. The sidhes start the ritual, while Arthur just keeps pleading weakely

Merlin: (smiling) If I somehow don't come back-

Arthur: (crying) Stop! Merlin don't do this. Please!

Merlin: I just want you to know that I love you.

Before Arthur can answer the ritual ends and Merlin blacks out.

When he wakes up he is in his way to Camelot in his old clothes and 10 years younger. He soon discovers he's been brought back to the very first day he met Arthur. He's confused. Have the Sidhes taken from him years of his life as a price? It doesn't make sense to him, but he decides to take advantage of this to prevent some things from happening.

Time goes by and while, in general, all events are repeating, not everything is happening as he remembers. Some people arrive in his live early, like Lancelot or Gawain. And Arthur treats him better? Like he says thank you to him more often and listens to him more. Merlin thinks it’s weird, but brushes it off thinking it’s due to the changes he's been making that some things are not quite the same.

Then the day comes when he finally reveals his magic to Arthur. He cries and Arthur hugs him telling everything its okey. Nothing its going to happen to him. Shortly after however Arthur also has a confession.

Arthur: I already knew.

Merlin: What?! Since when?

Arthur: the very start.

Merlin: How? I've been careful! More careful than before!

Arthur: Because you told me before. Well, not really before, but in the future. It’s complicated.

Merlin: Wait... you are from the future too?!

They are both surprised. They thought they were alone in this and it turns out they never were. Merlin cries all over again, apologazing for everything, for failing him, for not being able to save him, but-

Arthur: You did.

Merlin: ... What?

Arthur: You did save me.

Merlin: No, the sidhes tricked me. They sent us back in time-

Arthur: It was not them who did that. It was me.

Merlin: What... what are you saying?

Turns out what the ritual really did was turn Merlin into a small tree in exchange for saving Arthur’s life. A magic tree that would grow taller and taller and never die and whose ruts would expand making magic florish in the earth forever. Arthur of course was really upset after that. He demanded the sidhes to turn Merlin back but they only told him "what's done it's done" and that all he could do was pick the tree up before the roots growed if he wanted to move it elsewhere.

Arthur put the tree in a pot and brought it back to Camelot. Everyone was devasted with the news but they were also glad their king was alive and safe. No one blamed him, but Arthur always blamed himself. He repealed the ban as soon as he could and made sure everyone knew Merlin's involvement in the battle and later the other things he find out Merlin did for Camelot through Gaius. He made an anual event and a statue in Merlin's honor. Camelot slowly but surely welcomed magic again and became the most prosperous kingdom in the land.

Merlin: Oh...I don't remember being a tree.

Arthur: Yeah, I figured.

Merlin: But you repealed the ban! That's great! Magic was free again in the-wait... so why did you do all this if everything was fine? And how did you do it?

Arthur: Everything was NOT fine Merlin. You weren't there!

Merlin: (utterly confused) I was. As a tree.

Arthur: You know what I mean! You were there but you weren't. We mourned you but you were still alive. I kept you in that pot for longer that I should have because I wanted to keep you close all the time, yet looking at you was so painful... Gwen had to scold me into finally plant you in the garden so you could grow properly. I was broken inside, while trying to rule a kingdom. I kingdom we should have ruled together from the start!

Merlin: ...

Merlin: You're telling me you somehow traveled us back in time and throw away the golden age, your dream of uniting all Albion and all you worked hard for... just because you missed me?

Arthur: And because I couldn't say it back.

Merlin: What?

Arthur: That I love you too.

NEXT PART OF THIS AU HERE -> PART 2

[illyrianbitch]

An Education in Malice — Part Six

Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel

Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.

Warnings: mentions and descriptions of wounds, scars, and allusions to torture, canon-typical violence, fighting, killing, death— all the fun stuff really. reader being a lil badass, az being emotionally vulnerable, a turning point in their relationship!!!!

Word Count: 9.8k this was originally going to be like 2-3 diff parts, but i loved reading it all as one, so consider this my lil offering since i disappeared for like 2 weeks <3

Part Five | Series Masterlist | Part Seven

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You always hated the ornate mirror that had stood in your room — its gaudy, gilded and tarnished frame was far too large for your liking.  You hated how much space it took up, how much of yourself you could see as you passed it. 

On most days, the female staring back at you felt like a stranger— someone wearing your face yet existing in a distant world. She moved when you did, blinked when you did, too. But she wasn’t you. And you hated it. So you didn’t often linger on your reflection. 

Except for today. 

Your hair was damp from the bath and a faint smell of sage and patchouli clung to your skin from the residue of your bath soap. 

Your eyes traced the lines of your face, following the tired shadows beneath your eyes and scars that marred the skin of your stomach. Normally, when you stood there with a focused gaze and a troubled spirit, it was because you were examining new wounds, cataloging the fresh marks left behind from nights where your father was particularly angry. All of those wounds were hidden beneath clothing, concealed where no one but you would ever see— carefully, strategically, placed. 

You’d gotten used to the marks, comfortable with them, even. There were many things in your life that weren’t yours. But these— these scarred areas of skin, these were yours. Proof that your body had worked to protect you, to fix and heal itself despite what had been inflicted unto it. And in some strange way, it made you feel less lonely. 

If it was any other day, you wouldn’t have looked any longer than a second, a minute at most. You’d walk past the mirror, change into a dress fit for an audience, and leave. 

Today was different. Today, your eyes were drawn to the intricate tattoo etched just beneath your left breast, wrapping around your rib cage. It was the first time you’d really looked at it, the first time you’d allowed yourself to acknowledge its presence since its creation. 

The tattoo was a delicate masterpiece, a swirling pattern of dark ink that almost resembled Azriel’s shadows perfectly— so perfectly it made you nauseous, made you flinch at the first sighting because it seemed too real.  It was beautiful, haunting, and undeniably meaningful.

It made you feel sick.

You traced the pattern with your fingertips, thinking back to how Azriel’s hand felt in yours, to the warm feeling you felt in your chest. You’d never made a bargain before— not even in Autumn. Perhaps all bargains caused this feeling you now felt, a sense of residue that your body held of him, as if you had crumbs of his being stuck to you. 

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. 

You turned to see Laney's ears twitch as she registered the sound. Whenever you showered, whenever you were naked and vulnerable at all, really, she always guarded the door heavily, never moving. The knock was so gentle that she didn’t growl; instead, she sniffed under the door, her movements growing excited— happy. You could tell by her posture that the visitor was no threat. Not only that, but the knock was delicate— patient, almost. You knew who it was by that fact alone. 

Scrambling, you hastily pulled on your clothes, trying to regain some semblance of composure as you blinked away the last remaining images of Azriel from your mind. 

The tension in your body eased as you opened your door. 

"There’s my beautiful girl."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you embraced your mother, feeling the warmth of her body fold over you like a comforting cloak. You held her for another moment, savoring the softness of her touch and her heartbeat beneath you, and then you stepped aside to let her in. 

Your eyes flickered to the back of the hallway she’d come from. 

Your mother caught your gaze swiftly. "He’s with some of his men. Drunk. He’ll be busy for the night."

You swallowed, trying to suppress the unease that settled in your stomach. She placed a gentle hand on your arm.

"It’s alright," she said gently, “Too drunk to even function.”

You hated that you knew what she meant, that you and your mother had grown to develop your own language regarding the males in your home—regarding the one that owned you both. Her words meant that Beron had an enjoyable day, one that filled him with enough joy to celebrate— that such celebrations were going to tire him so deeply that he’d fall asleep straight after. No issues for you, no issues for your mother. You nodded slowly.

Your mother stepped closer, her fingers brushing through your still slightly damp hair. "Let me braid this mane of yours," she said softly, her touch light as she affectionately stroked your cheek. You casted a wary glance behind you, towards the darkened hallways, but nodded nonetheless, closing the door behind you with a soft click. 

Laney curled up comfortably on your bed, her relaxed posture easing some of the remaining tension in your shoulders.  The act alone was a sign of her trust, a reminder that she felt safe and saw no threats nearby. If Beron ever caught her on any furniture, she’d be punished. But in this moment, she was calm and content, and you let that calm you too.

And then you were back in front of the mirror again. 

Your mother pulled a small velvet stool in front, gesturing for you to take a spot. The large frame of the mirror seemed to laugh at you and as your mother stood behind you, delicate arms reaching for a hairbrush, you felt like a child again. The mirror seemed to grow even larger, even grander, and you fought to recognize the female that stared at you through it. 

You watched as your mother moved with the same gentle grace she had always possessed, bringing a hairbrush to your damp hair. Your mother was beautiful. She always had been. Even now, with the sadness in her eyes— a trait specific to Vanserras, you were certain—she was one of the most beautiful people you knew. Your thoughts drifted to what she must have been like when she was a bit younger, how she was when Helion first met her. You wanted to know it all, wanted to know your mother as a teenager, wanted to know how she fell in love. 

Her eyes caught yours in the mirror and her movements slowed. The expression on her face softened. 

"Where has that mind drifted off to?" 

You blinked, shrugging slightly. There was a lump in your throat as you responded, "Nothing real."

She frowned, and her eyes danced across your face before she continued brushing your hair. A thoughtful hum left her lips. "You've been gone a lot recently. Done a great job of stressing your poor brother out. Where is it you've been running off to?"

Her voice was soft and kind and just below a whisper—  as if you two were sharing a secret. It was her classic motherly way of interrogating you. The gentleness in her tone made it clear that she didn't mind, no matter the answer. She never did.

A soft laugh escaped you. "I have to visit all of my many admirers."

Her answering laugh was sweet and quiet, a sound so pure it almost felt out of place in this house. You resisted the urge to look back at your closed door, to wait in fear for heavy footsteps. But your mother didn’t seem worried about an intrusion. Instead, she looked at you with a glint in her eyes, a mischievous sparkle that reminded you so much of Eris—right down to the playful eyebrow raise.

"Joke as much as you'd like. We both know you have plenty of those," she teased.

You smiled to yourself.  

"How could you not when you're so beautiful?" she added, her voice filled with a sincerity that made your throat tighten.

You looked at her in the mirror again. Her eyes were so kind. They held the same warmth you’d see in Lucien’s— a warmth that you’d see even in Eris’s when he was at ease, comfortable. Those times were rare now, if not impossible. 

You looked at your own reflection.

You didn’t have kind eyes. You had your father’s eyes. Beron's eyes—hard, angry, simmering with rage. You had his temper, his unforgiving nature. You were every part of him that you hated, and you were reminded of it every day. Reminded of it when you struggled to control your powers, when you failed to harness the very essence of who you were. Reminded of it when you looked in the mirror for too long— when you thought about how you would never be soft like the females males often loved. That your pain didn’t lead you to be kinder, didn’t teach you to be gentle.

Your hand drifted to your heart instinctively, fingers brushing on the fabric just above your breast. You trailed down to the side of your ribs, to where a spiral of ink now adorned your skin. 

Your mother finished the large braid, bringing it around your shoulder. She caught your gaze in the mirror and smiled. "Do you like it?"

She had a freckle above her eyebrow, the same freckle your brothers each had in different places on their faces. Eris had the most freckles out of all of you. They painted the bridge of his nose and his arms the most—

"Honey?" 

You blinked. Your body felt fuzzy as you reached up to touch the braid. "Yeah,” you said, clearing your throat. “Thank you."

Her kind eyes softened at you— softened in a way you didn’t feel worthy for. There was a faint simmering in her eyes, a fire that she still held despite how her life had treated her. It had dimmed over the centuries, lessened to a small flicker. But the flame was still there. You saw it. 

You took a deep breath, maneuvering yourself to turn in the chair and face her. You made room for her to sit next to you, gesturing with a small smile and a lift of your chin. 

"I have to tell you something.”

She sat and frowned slightly, eyes scanning your face. But she said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

"Do you remember when I was little? And you used to love reading me that one poem?"

Her expression softened, and a gentle smile played on her lips as a distant look grew in her eyes. She knew, without you even saying the title, exactly what you were referring to— after countless nights spent curled around you, running her hands through your hair as she repeated the words she’d memorized so long ago, how could she not?

So she watched you, her gaze unwavering, as you began to recite your favorite stanza. "In life's cruel grasp we could not abide, so we made a pact with the Reaper's side."

Her voice joined yours. "And in death's embrace our freedom lies, where we'll find each other beneath somber skies."

You smiled to yourself, looking at her, scanning her face. "I know why you love it so much."

She furrowed her brows, yet even then she looked so patient, like she'd sit there and wait for hours until you were ready to speak again. This was someone who had been made kind by what they had gone through. You almost felt ashamed that you had turned out differently.

Finally, you said, "I found the book. In Helion's library."

A flash of recognition crossed her face, and she softened, her eyes taking on a distant, wistful look. "You did?"

You nodded again, watching her closely as a tender, almost nostalgic smile played on her lips. She tried to compose herself, her eyes growing distant and glazing over. "I've heard he loves to collect stories." She paused, then asked, "What were you doing all the way over there?"

You thought about her question, about answering, about maybe telling her everything. But there was only one thing you could pull yourself to say. "I know," you said softly. "About Helion. I know."

She understood what you were truly saying. A sigh left her lips and an echo of her younger self appeared in her eyes, a female who had fallen hopelessly and madly in love. A version much younger—much more innocent. More hopeful.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, your voice breaking as she met your gaze. Her face seemed pained, shocked almost, and her eyes filled with confusion. She moved closer to you, grabbing your hands in her own.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?"

It was becoming increasingly difficult to draw a full breath. There was something constricting around your chest. Perhaps it was all of the recent stress, the worry of how much harder things had gotten, the image of a life your mother could have had— this suffocating tie to Azriel that you now had etched into your very flesh. 

"You were loved. And you deserve better,”  Your voice caught in your throat and a tear trickled down your cheek as you shook your head slightly. “And I can't do anything to help—"

“No, no,” She interrupted you, bringing her warm hands to cup your cheeks— pulling your eyes to her kind ones.  "I'm your mother. I'm supposed to help you."

Tears welled in your eyes as she continued. "I should be apologizing to you,” she murmured, “I could be better, stronger. I should apologize that I was selfish and brought you into this world."

"Selfish?" 

How could she ever consider herself selfish? You knew the pain she carried, the weight of responsibility that seemed to crush her at times. You saw it reflected in Eris— a specific pain that came from feeling like you could never do enough. But even with your older brothers, despite their cruelty and callousness, your mother loved them fiercely, passionately. Loved them with every fiber of her being, every part of her that she gave to them. 

"Yes," she replied softly, her touch gentle as she rubbed your cheek, her eyes full of emotion. "Oh, how excited I was to have a girl. You, my sweet, are one of my greatest blessings. My beautiful daughter. So strong, so loyal. I just couldn't imagine a life without you."

You wanted to reassure her, to alleviate her guilt, but words seemed inadequate in the face of such profound love. Instead, you leaned into her touch, covering her hand with yours, and held on tightly.

"One day, things will be different," she said, her voice soft but filled with conviction— enough of it that it eased the anger that bit at your gut. "You can be different. And you won't be like him."

She paused, her eyes locking onto yours with a depth of understanding that made your chest tighten. "You’ll know what love is. And you won’t have to resort to reciting poetry to know how powerful it can be."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The dense canopy of trees above barely let any light through as you hurried along the forest path. Spring along the border was always odd, with dense forests giving way to large rolling hills. The difference in scenery, usually something you welcomed, felt nauseating today. All the sights, the smells, even the sunshine, seemed overwhelming.

You walked faster than usual, eyes fixed ahead, hands clenched at your sides. Azriel’s keen senses had already picked up on the subtle signs—your shallow breaths, the way your shoulders were stiff with tension. 

"Why are you walking through the woods and not even looking at me?"

You stopped as Azriel’s voice rang in your ears. 

You’d come to rely on these meetings with Azriel to exchange information, to strategize, to plan how to give your brother an edge. They’d eased your anxiety slightly, giving you a sense of support that you’d never thought would be found in Azriel of all people. But he was smart, as much as you hated to admit it, and had dedicated time to offering you aid. 

The truth was, you didn't quite trust your self-control right now. For some inexplicable reason, Azriel's scent was intoxicating, flooding your senses and causing your thoughts to swirl in a disorienting mix of attraction and confusion. Despite how hard you tried to fight it, you found yourself looking forward to these encounters. And that was a dangerous reality. 

"I like to stretch my legs," you finally responded, attempting to sound casual. "And maybe I just don't want to face you."

“Is that so? Nervous to stare at me too long?"

You could already picture the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips— a bit of personality that you’d seen grow over your time together. You rolled your eyes, turning around and facing him with a blank look.

He stepped closer to you, eying you closely. “Worried that you’ll go crazy with desire?”

His smirk deepened, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoic mask. You bit the inside of your cheek in response.  "Don't flatter yourself,” you scowled. “Maybe I’m being kind and saving you from embarrassing yourself with how badly you’ll want me.”

This was dangerous— it was entirely too playful, too close to the brink of what you assumed friendship felt like. 

“Are you?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. “Being kind?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes bore into yours and your chest tightened at the eye contact. You cleared your throat, turning away and resuming your brisk pace. “Shut up and let's just go.”

Behind you, Azriel chuckled softly, the sound rolling across your senses like an unwelcomed caress, making you shiver involuntarily. 

"Stop laughing," you gritted out, “I’ve never heard a worse sound.”

The chuckle faded and you heard him come to a stop. You turned around, meeting his gaze with a glare. He stood there, arms crossed, a faint smirk still playing on his lips. He seemed amused, at ease, even.

“What?” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

He nodded towards you. “What’s your problem?”

“You standing there. That’s my problem.”

Azriel raised a brow, uncrossing his arms as he took a few steps forward to stand directly in front of you. He narrowed his eyes, studying you intently. “You’re bitchier than usual.”

“Careful,” you gritted out, staring at him with a heavy, burning gaze. 

“I’m here helping you,” he said evenly, his voice holding a hint of reproach. “You can drop the attitude.”

"You’re only helping me because you want to get rid of me and, sadly, you can’t kill me," you shot back, bitterness lacing your words.

Azriel's jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with something that almost seemed to resemble something like anger— like hurt. 

"I believe I've made it clear that your death is something I've purposely avoided."

Something about the way he was staring at you made you shiver. You fought the urge to run your hands over the area where your skin was now marked with the tattoo of a bargain. You met his gaze, steadying yourself. "Why didn't you tell me that Rhys presented my father with a proposition? That he requested an audience with him?"

Azriel blinked. "I wasn't aware that Rhysand had already done so."

"But you knew?" 

"Yes," he replied,  "I did."

"What good is this stupid bargain of ours if you don't even uphold it?" 

Azriel's expression hardened and he leaned down further. The scent of him filled your nostrils and you sucked in a tight breath, feeling your chest constrict with the motion. "I take my bargains very seriously. Our deal was that I would help you, that you would get what you wanted. Not that I would tell you everything."

Your nostrils flared.

"Do you realize how much danger Rhysand has put us in? Put me in?" Your voice trembled with barely restrained anger. "Beron is upset that Rhysand thinks of him as someone so conforming. He's convinced he has a traitor in his ranks. And if you haven’t noticed, Shadowsinger, he does!" 

You pointed to yourself and Azriel’s face seemed to darken with understanding. 

"Y/n—" he started, but he stopped abruptly, his gaze shooting to the trees beyond you.

Annoyance flared within you. "What?" you snapped, but he ignored you, his focus elsewhere.

"Can you just finish whatever the hell—"

Azriel moved with lightning speed, grabbing you and pushing you against a tree. His hand flew to your mouth, covering it as he brought his other hand to his face, a finger on own lips in a gesture of silence. Your eyes widened, watching as a muscle feathered in his cheek, his wings flaring slightly, shadows skittering around him.

Then you heard it too—a familiar laugh. 

"I know you're here, Shadowsinger. I can smell the bastard on you," Renard's voice echoed through the trees, taunting and cruel.

Desperation clawed at you. In a surge of panic, you bit down hard on Azriel's hand. He pulled back with a sharp intake of breath and you gave him one last look before you winnowed away. You could've sworn you saw a flicker of hurt, a sense of betrayal in the whites of his eyes. 

And then he was gone from your view. 

You didn’t get far, appearing in another thicket of trees within the same forest. Breathing heavily, you leaned against a sturdy oak.

Why hadn’t you winnowed farther? Straight to Autumn?

A tug in your chest nagged at you.

Faintly, the sounds of a struggle reached your ear—grunts and the clash of metal. You clenched your fists, chastising yourself. Do not go back, you thought. It's dangerous. You're putting yourself at risk—you and Eris, you and your mother. If they find you, if they manage to tell your father, you're dead. He'll kill you.

Azriel doesn’t matter, you tried to convince yourself. He can handle himself. And if not—

“Damnit.”

You made the decision before you could second-guess yourself, winnowing back immediately to where you had left him.

Disorientation clouded your vision the moment you landed. You blinked rapidly, taking in the chaotic scene before you. Azriel was engaged in a flurry of combat with three men— soldiers adorning the colors of your court. His gaze flicked to you for a split second, and his face softened with a brief, almost imperceptible relief.

You gave him what felt like a smile—an acknowledgment, a reassurance—before the reality of the situation snapped you back. Countless men surrounded you both, their eyes glinting with malice, with something that felt awfully like hunger. 

You had no weapon, but Eris had taught you ways to deflect attacks. 

One of the men lunged, and you dodged, feeling the blade cut through the air dangerously close to your side. With a swift kick, you sent him stumbling backward, then followed up with a sharp jab to his throat. He gasped, clutching at his neck, and you swiftly disarmed him.

Steel clashed against steel as you parried another strike, your movements agile and precise. A second attacker closed in, and you deflected his blade before stepping inside his guard, driving your elbow into his face. Blood sprayed as he staggered back, dazed. With a decisive motion, you brought his own weapon down through him, a sickening squelch filling your ears as he dropped to the ground.

Azriel was a blur beside you, his movements so swift and deadly it was almost poetic.

You managed to disarm another man, twisting his wrist until he dropped his weapon with a cry of pain. You kicked the sword away and followed up with a decisive strike to his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. Your weapon found its way clean through his throat next.

Breathing heavily, you scanned the clearing, your eyes darting from one enemy to the next. There were countless bodies now, sprawled across the ground like fallen leaves— but none of their faces matched the one in your mind. You surveyed your surroundings once more. 

"Looking for me, princess?" The voice cut through the air, raspy and filled with disdain.

You spun around as Renard emerged from the trees, stalking closer with predatory grace, like an animal preparing for a kill. "Because I was looking for you."

He looked worse than the last time you’d seen him, barely alive, supporting swollen eyes and blackened marks around his neck. Beron had indeed tortured him, and the sight filled you with a grim satisfaction.

"Must be hard looking for anything with those eyes," you retorted, a grin on your lips.

"You did this to me, you traitorous whore," Renard spat, his face contorted with anger. He made a move towards you, eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the flames flickering against your hands, unsteady.

"Real cute," he mocked. You bit back the frustration boiling in your gut, gritting your teeth as you focused on the simmering underneath your skin. 

“Come closer,” you sneered, “Let’s see how cute they feel on your burning flesh.”

“You always had such a foul mouth on you. It’s like you’re begging to be killed.”

Without hesitation, Renard lunged at you with a speed fueled by rage and desperation. You both collided in a flurry of strikes and parries, the sound of clashing metal ringing through the clearing. The flames in your hands flickered erratically as you tried to maintain focus amid the chaos.

You had always observed your father's men so you could be one step ahead— just in case. Now, facing Renard, you could sense his frustration with every move you countered, every strike you parried.

"You think you can match me, girl?" His voice dripped with contempt as he circled you, "I'll make your father's punishments seem gentle compared to what I have in mind."

"You talk too much," you managed to rasp out between clenched teeth. 

Renard's face twisted into a cruel smile as he pressed on, his strikes growing more aggressive. "I wonder what Beron will do with your body," he taunted, "If your mother will even be allowed to mourn you."

The thought hit you like a physical blow, momentarily freezing your movements. In that moment of hesitation, Renard seized the advantage. With a swift and brutal maneuver, he knocked your weapon from your grasp and delivered a fierce blow that sent you sprawling to the ground. Before you could react, he was upon you, gripping your hair and wrenching your arms behind your back, a hold tightening around your throat.

Panic surged through you as you tried desperately to summon your fire, but it wouldn't respond. You tightened your jaw, focusing every ounce of concentration to call forth that spark of heat, cursing the world—the training that was never enough, your father's prevention of you perfecting the skill.

Renard's breath was hot against your ear as you writhed beneath him. He gripped your chin roughly, forcing you to watch as Azriel fought against overwhelming odds. Men surrounded him, their blows raining down on him relentlessly.

"Is this how he had you?" Renard's voice dripped with venom. "From behind?"

You closed your eyes, summoning images of Eris, your mother, Lucien— each face a steadying breath in your mind. When you opened your eyes, your gaze landed on Azriel, surrounded by a sapphire aura that blurred with his swift movements. 

With a surge of willpower, you summoned every ounce of strength, every flicker of fire you could muster. Flames erupted from your hands with a hot burst of energy, startling Renard and giving you a split-second window of opportunity.

You turned around and seized him, your grip iron against his throat as you backed him into a nearby tree. With cold intensity, you stared into Renard's eyes, the flames casting flickering shadows across his face. 

"Don't worry,” you growled, “I won't be gentle."

Within seconds, flames engulfed Renard's throat and face, the heat and light blinding in their intensity. He screamed in agony, thrashing under your grasp, but you held on, firmer and harder each time he flailed.

As the flames dwindled, leaving behind only smoldering ruins, you staggered back, hands trembling and covered in ash and the stench of burnt flesh. But before you could dwell on the burnt remains of Renard that lay at your feet, you spun around to focus on Azriel, still fighting off multiple men, surrounded by the shimmering sapphire light of his power.

Two men stood directly in front of him, while another pair prepared to strike from behind. You glanced down at your hands and screwed your eyes shut for a fleeting moment. When you opened them again, the fire was there—steady and trained. With a fierce determination, you summoned the flames into existence, shaping them swiftly into whips of fire that crackled and danced in the air.

You brought your hands out towards the two men, feeling the fire respond to your command, crackling and whispering with power as it morphed itself at your will. The flames transformed into fiery whips, extending from your outstretched arms like extensions of your fury, connecting with the two bodies threatening Azriel.

The fiery tendrils snaked around their necks like vengeful serpents, searing flesh and scorching hands as the men futilely tried to break free. With agonized screams, they collapsed to the ground. The flames dwindled down to mere embers. When you looked up, Azriel met your gaze, his face bloodied and his leathers splattered with crimson. Shadows writhed around him, dancing on the forest floor towards your feet.

He walked towards you, his eyes shifting to the fallen bodies at your feet. He took in the sight for a moment, gaze focusing on the marred flesh across their throats. Then he blinked and brought his focus to you. "Where's Renard?"

You glanced over to the disfigured body and pile of ash near a tree. Azriel followed your gaze and he blinked once more, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. His lips parted as if to speak, but before he could utter a word, his attention abruptly shifted.

He pulled your body into him, his wing extending protectively in front of you right as a sudden ripping sound tore through the air. You were pushed away from him just in time to witness a thick weapon—a sharp, wide blade welded to a spear—pierce through the membrane of his wing. 

He cried out in agony, falling forward slightly, enough for you to catch the gaze of a lone soldier peering over the apex of his wing. You grabbed a nearby weapon and hurled it with all your might. The blade found its mark, burying itself in the soldier's neck. He collapsed instantly, motionless on the forest floor.

Azriel let out a cry of pain as he ripped the weapon out from his wing, causing it to twitch involuntarily. "C'mon, we need to go," you urged, moving closer to him. With great effort, he tried to adjust himself as you lifted his arm over your shoulder, feeling his weight and warmth press into you.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The journey back to the cabin was a blur of frantic winnowing and determined dragging through the dense forest. Your muscles ached as Azriel’s weight dragged heavily against you, stumbling with every move as the pain in his body grew. He groaned in pain as you lowered him onto the couch, the sound raw and unsettling in the quiet home.

Kneeling beside him, you moved closer to get a better look at the injury on his wing, but Azriel scrambled away from your touch and further into the couch. Your gaze settled on his face— eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched so tightly that you could see the strain in every muscle. His siphons glowed with an intense, flickering light and his shadows seemed to respond to his distress, curling protectively around him. For a moment, you felt a pang of envy. Even in his delirium, he had something to shield him from the world. 

The sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so raw—made your stomach churn. His breathing was ragged, each exhale accompanied by a soft whimper that he seemed to be fighting to suppress. Sweat matted his hair to his forehead, and every so often, he would twitch. 

You always thought that seeing Azriel suffer would make you feel good, make you feel some sort of vindication. Often, you used to imagine it would be you bringing him to his knees in pain, him and the rest of Prythian—making them suffer as you and your family had for centuries. But now, as you watched him writhing in pain on the couch, your heart hurt in a way you had only ever felt for your family—and even worse. You felt like you were in pain too.

But you had no wounds comparable to Azriel. 

A knot tightened in your chest and an unexpected urge surged through you—to comfort him, to wipe the sweat-dampened hair away from his forehead, to ease his torment. You blinked the thought away— nauseating and entirely too heavy for you to acknowledge further. You brought your attention back to his wing.

The membrane was pierced clean through by the weapon, a gaping wound from which blood and darkened poison gushed. The sight made you nauseous and you pushed away the haunting images of your father's face, the sound of leather striking flesh, and the memory of Eris's scarred back.

"I need to burn it out.”

Azriel's eyes shot open. "No, no," he pleaded weakly, his voice strained heavily. "Please."

Your hands hovered uncertainly above him. The first time you’d felt this poison in your wounds, it had felt like your body was eating itself from the inside out. You’d gotten used to the pain after a while, but Azriel was new to it— and Illyrian wings were incredibly sensitive from what you’d learned. He was in blinding pain.

"It's the only way to stop it from spreading," you insisted. "It'll only get worse if I don’t. You won’t be able to heal otherwise."

"That's—that's not how faebane works," he stammered, shaking his head vehemently. 

You gritted your teeth, letting out an exasperated breath as he rambled. "Because it's not faebane–”

Something seemed to snap. Azriel flinched, his eyes snapping to you with a wild intensity. His pupils were blown wide with fear, like a trapped animal. "You set me up."

Your stomach dropped.

"What?" 

You pulled your hand away, feeling an unfamiliar sting of offense wrapping itself around your chest. Azriel’s jaw clenched and his gaze darkened into a dangerous, skeptical narrow. 

"You're not hurt," he continued. "Was this some setup?"

Azriel's shadows flickered and writhed around him, siphons glaring with an iridescent light. He clutched at his injured wing, muttering through gritted teeth, "I knew it. You— you Vanserras."

He spat your family's name with such venom that for a fleeting second you questioned whether poison had lined his mouth rather than the wound on his wing. 

You were a fool. Azriel’s pain shouldn’t have bothered you so deeply. You should have never went back to help him. The hurt boiling under your skin made you feel weak, made you feel small.

"I will never be trusted by you, will I?" you asked, the words weak on your tongue. You looked at him and fought to push that stupid empathy away. Azriel said nothing as he grimaced further in pain. You let out a humorless laugh.

 "Right,” you said, “Deal with it yourself then. Stay here and die for all I care.”

You turned to leave, but his hand shot out and grabbed yours. The grip was firm, but not hard enough to hurt you. He adjusted his fingers around yours. When you looked down, Azriel’s pleading gaze met yours, sweat clinging to his hair as he looked up at you through darkened lashes. "No, no, I'm sorry," he murmured, "Please."

You hesitated. 

A surge of conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, and an unsettling tenderness you didn't want to acknowledge—washed over you.

Pull away. Leave him.  

And then you swallowed down the hatred, the cruelty that had risen, and knelt back down in front of him. He let out a relieved sigh. Your eyes fell to his hands, taking in the scarred tissue covering his skin— deep marks etched by fire and flame. 

"Close your eyes and pretend I’m Morrigan.”

His eyes flickered to you. "What?"

“Azriel,” You took a deep breath, training your eyes on him. "I need you to trust me. And since you don’t—close your eyes and pretend that I’m not me."

Your voice was gentler than you’d ever heard it, softer than you ever thought yourself capable of.  Azriel swallowed hard, then gave a small nod. His eyes shuttered closed.

You gently placed your palm on his injured wing, feeling the delicate membrane beneath your touch. Your other fingers trembled slightly as you summoned Eris' voice into your mind, calling upon that familiar heat and flicker as the flame began to rise through your hands. You struggled to keep it steady, each breath becoming more labored as you bit back your frustration.

Slowly, soft tendrils of shadows began weaving around your hand– a soft, cooling touch that made you blink. They drifted over you, calming the flickering flame to a steady warmth.  You took a deep breath and cautiously brought your fingers to the wound.

As the fire met his skin, Azriel tensed, a strangled sound escaping his throat. You could feel the poison reacting to the heat, the black substance dissipating under your fingertips.

"I can do this," you murmured, more for your own benefit than his. "It’ll be alright."

You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but you kept talking, hoping that your voice might anchor him to something other than his pain. It always helped you when Eris told you it would be alright, when he talked to you as he tended to your wounds, gently, tenderly, lovingly. 

You focused solely on the task at hand, blocking out the rest of your thoughts and the tightness in your chest. Finally, when you felt the last remnants of poison retreat, you withdrew your hand, the flames extinguishing with a final flicker.

Azriel’s breathing, though still ragged, had eased from the strained gasps earlier. Encouraged by this small sign, you withdrew your hand, a quiet smile of satisfaction tugging at your lips.

Looking down at Azriel, who had slipped into unconsciousness, you took a deep breath. "Thank you," you whispered to the shadows that continued to hover around you. For a moment, you felt silly for speaking to something so intangible— to things that probably didn’t even understand. Yet, as if in response, they slithered back toward Azriel, settling near the crook of his neck.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel’s eyelids felt heavy as he finally came to, his surroundings blurry and unfamiliar. 

It took him a few moments to orient himself, to remember where he was. He noticed three things first: it was nighttime, and a gentle moonlight bathed the space he was in; he was covered in a thin orange blanket, the fabric soft and worn, smelling faintly of pine and something sweet; and he was no longer in the agonizing pain he had succumbed to earlier.

Azriel shifted slightly, grimacing as a dull ache radiated from his wing. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to sit up, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. He glanced at his wing, noting the faint hole where the gaping wound had been. He extended it in a light stretch, feeling a slight sting, but it was bearable. Healable. His mind replayed the events leading up to this moment, your voice echoing in his thoughts—soft, concerned, saying his name. 

Pretend I’m Morrigan.

He had nodded, closed his eyes— but he hadn’t pretended. It was you kneeling beside him, not Mor.

Azriel's gaze wandered around the room. His shadows had left their original position, perched and curled around the apex of his wings, and now seemed to be leading him across the small living area. He frowned, his boots heavy against the aged floors as he followed them past the wooden table— he pushed away memories of you bent over the furniture, shaking his head as he approached a small bookshelf tucked in the corner. 

The shelves were adorned with an assortment of well-loved books, spines worn from what Azriel could only assume were countless readings. His shadows hovered near the middle shelf, where something caught his eye—a slight indentation in the wood, partially concealed by the darkness they casted.

As he drew closer, the shadows dissipated, revealing a carving etched into the wood—

L.V., Y/N. V. 

Azriel blinked, brows furrowing as he inspected the letters further. He traced the letters with his fingers, feeling the rough wood against his scarred, ridged skin. 

You had mentioned offhandedly that you kept in contact with Lucien, that you visited the Spring Court. But he hadn’t given the statement any further thought.

He glanced around the room. 

The space seemed to come alive around him, details he had previously overlooked now asserting their presence. He had never paid proper attention to the home, never questioned why it seemed to be so oddly clean, why you favored it so much. His fingers hovered over the initials once more.

Y/N. V. 

Glancing down at his shadows, they stilled momentarily before slithering across the floor, guiding his gaze towards the doorway. There, through the windowpane, he caught sight of you standing a short distance away from the house, beneath the starlit sky.

Azriel approached the door with cautious steps, ensuring every footfall was quiet– undetected. He reached out, his shadows wrapping around the door handle to muffle any noise it might make. With a gentle push, he swung the door open just wide enough to slip through, his shadows ensuring the hinges made no sound, either. Leaning against the sturdy frame, he allowed the darkness to envelop him further, becoming one with its comforting embrace as he observed you in the distance.

From this vantage point, he watched you, bathed in the soft light that painted the sky with a silvery hue. A gentle breeze stirred, ruffling a few strands of your hair and carrying your faint, familiar scent to him. Sweet with a hint of spice, a smell that he’d grown used to recently. There's an emotion woven into it that he can’t decipher, and for a brief moment, it frustrated him. You seemed at odds. Peaceful, in this night air, but stiff. 

There was a tightening in his chest. 

Seeing you now, basking in the moonlight as the cold air licked at him, Azriel wondered if you were the same Y/N he had so violently hated. Could someone so cruel enjoy the light of the moon? Did his other enemies also watch the stars?

“How long are you going to stand there and stare at me?”

Azriel stiffened and a heat rose to his cheeks. He looked down at his shadows in accusation. Maybe they had betrayed him, not covered his approach adequately. He glanced back up, meeting your gaze as you looked over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

Azriel waited for it— the expected glare, the indifference, or even a cruel smile. Something foreign, something that aligned with the adversarial image he held of you. But it didn't come. There was no hostility, no cruelty, no snark. Only a softness reminiscent of one that he had seen those in his family hold many times before. It caught him off guard.

You snickered softly. "I can feel your stare burning a hole into my dress."

Azriel swallowed and cleared his throat, willing himself to regain composure as he walked towards you. You turned to face him, arms crossed, eyes flicking to his wing.

"You don't look like death anymore," you remarked, a faint hint of amusement in your tone.

Azriel offered a wry smile. "I suppose I have you to thank for that." He paused, searching for the right words. He had too many questions in his mind— too many thoughts floating around, headless, bodiless. 

— You had called him by his name. You had been here with Lucien. You left and you came back. He shielded you with his wing. You healed him. You stayed. You watched the stars. 

Crickets chirped, and a soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Azriel's mind wandered to the initials carved into the wood.

"This was your home," he finally said, his voice quiet. "With Lucien."

Your head snapped towards him, eyes widened and lips parting in surprise. "What?"

Azriel simply looked at you, taking in the contours of your face, the way the moonlight painted soft shadows on your features. You had always been attractive, dangerously, irritatingly so. But you looked softer in this light. Someone more approachable, more real—someone he could dare to care for.

Someone he cared for enough to protect.

"Am I right?" he asked again, his voice steady.

You glanced back at the modest house. With a small sigh, you met his gaze briefly before your eyes looked down, unfocused. 

“It was Lucien’s.”

Azriel remained quiet, steading his breath as your eyes met his again. The normal simmering rage within them was replaced now with a distant sadness. 

"After Lucien fled Autumn, Tamlin had this made for him," you continued, gesturing subtly towards the house. "A place close enough to the border that Eris could sneak me to. A place for me to see Lucien, to stay with him when it was possible."

Azriel’s chest tightened further. This wasn't a Spring Court citizens home— it was yours. He thought back to the first time he’d found you here, how bitter you had seemed when you talked of its emptiness. To you, Feyre had taken away the only place you had to escape— when Lucien was forced to flee from another court, when Hybern took advantage of a weakened Spring.

"Why risk sneaking away constantly? Why not seek refuge like Lucien did?" 

Your face seemed to harden briefly at his question, a flicker of defensiveness crossing your features. "I could have," you replied, your tone tinged with a hint of regret as you offered a shrug. "Lucien begged me to."

"Yet you stayed. In Autumn.”

You tilted your chin to look at him properly, meeting his eyes with an intense, burrowing gaze. 

“Would you leave your family? Your court?" 

"My court is not known for its cruelty." 

The words slipped out almost automatically, like a response that had been trained in your presence. He cursed himself inwardly. Something flashed in your eyes and your jaw twitched imperceptibly.  For a brief moment, he braced himself for the anticipated flash of anger, the potential for conflict that could leave him stranded in this spot he now believed himself tethered to. 

But you only raised a brow. 

"Isn't it, though?" you retorted with a slight snicker.  "The all-powerful and brutal Rhysand, feared High Lord of the Night Court."

Azriel bit back the discomfort at the sound of Rhysands name, at the way you disregarded his title so flippantly. He took a deep inhale, and you recognized the action as the response that it was. 

"Autumn is my home.”

The freckles on your face seemed more visible in the moonlight. All the times he'd been with you, the weeks spent meeting you, fucking you, he couldn't remember a proper conversation, face to face, that had lasted this long without a cruel, vile insult. He found it hard to picture you in Autumn anymore, to see you alongside your other brothers, alongside Beron. The image of you among the autumn leaves, your fire-red hair blending with the fiery landscape, felt almost surreal now.

“It was Lucien's too."

“No.” You shook your head gently, a rueful smile touching your lips. “Lucien spent most of his life in other courts. He was always too kind for us. Him and his large heart were destined to leave. A bleeding heart in Autumn gets you nothing but a loss of blood."

You looked like Lucien now, more so than Azriel had seen before. The snark of Eris was still there, the same guarded, calculated movements— even the still, low cadence of your voice, like a practiced talent. Seemingly emotionless despite the topic of conversation.

Seemingly.

Gods, he hated how much you looked like Lucien now.

Because Lucien was fair. Just. Lucien had every reason, as Azriel was beginning to see like you had, to hate him. He'd gone after his mate, had rushed to prove himself in a battle to the death, hadn’t thought about Lucien as a life, as a person, beyond an adversary standing in front of a prize he wanted—that was what Elain had been. A prize. Something he wanted to deserve. Something to prove he was good.

But Lucien was kind. Lucien was diplomatic, good with people. Lucien had won Elain over with his patience, with that good heart you spoke of.

Azriel studied you, wondering how much of Lucien’s qualities you had in you that he had refused to acknowledge. That heart—it was there, beneath the layers of bitterness and guardedness. He had seen glimpses of it tonight, in the way you tended to his wounds, in the way your voice softened despite the hatred you held so deeply, so fiercely. 

He found himself wondering, not for the first time, what you could have been had you left with Lucien.

Azriel cleared his throat. “So you stayed.”

You held his gaze for a moment. He wondered if you were deciding whether to answer, waited anxiously to see whether this openness of yours would vanish. 

"I couldn't leave my mother. I couldn't leave Eris."

Azriel opened his mouth— to say what, he wasn’t sure. But you beat him to it.

"And besides that," you added, your tone shifting slightly, "I fit. You're the one who's talked about my cruelty. I belong in Autumn."

A familiar hardness began returning to your expression. He could see it building, a wall of cold resolve. Your arms tightened around yourself, nails digging into your biceps. You were cruel—this was a fact he knew well. Cruel, calculated, and dangerous for him. Yet, despite all this, an inexplicable urge to apologize welled up within him. 

He had always known getting involved with you was a bad idea. He had rationalized it as a way to fulfill his urges, telling himself that fucking you was the path of least resistance compared to killing you. One option provided a release, the other would only escalate into more chaos. But now, as he stood here, the realization hit him: perhaps it was more dangerous than he had thought. Perhaps he had been dipping into something more addictive than he realized, and now he couldn’t think straight.

Why had he protected you with his wing?

You glanced back at the house, your gaze softening, body relaxing. "I don't think Lucien ever truly got over that," you whispered, almost to yourself. "The hurt that came from his belief that I had chosen my cruel brother over my kind one."

It felt like an admission not meant for Azriel, like you hadn’t realized you’d confessed it out loud. You blinked and the flicker of vulnerability he had seen was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the guarded expression he had come to know.

"But that's not the truth,” Azriel said.

You met his gaze again. Years of sacrifice and loyalty that bound you to a life you never chose. A curved smile touched your lips, a mask slipping back into place— so easily, so swiftly, it almost made him sick. 

"People believe the stories that make the most sense to them. I'd say you're more than familiar with that habit, Shadowsinger."

Azriel's brows furrowed as he straightened, instinctively pulling his wings closer. A small ache radiated from his injured wing, and his mind drifted back to the wound. His shadows coiled protectively around him. Through their whisperings he felt an inexplicable urge to ask, "How did you know it wasn't faebane?"

You looked at him, your expression unreadable. With a nonchalant shrug, you replied, "Lucky guess."

He shook his head. "Do not lie to me."

“I don’t take orders from you.” Your jaw tightened, a flicker of defiance danced in your eyes. "And does it matter? You're healed. You’re welcome. Move on.”

"It matters," he insisted, his voice firm. "How did you know it wasn't faebane? That you needed to burn it out?"

You sighed in irritation. "You're supposed to be smart. Why do you think I knew?"

Azriel's heart pounded. He did know. Deep down, he knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from you. "How did you know?" he pressed.

You looked away, a dry laugh escaping your lips. Shaking your head, you said, "Faebane became useless to my father when an antidote was created for it."

Azriel's brows furrowed further, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. His fists curled at his sides as he asked, "What does that mean?"

A bitter smile twisted your lips as you met his gaze again. "He needed something else to make his punishments effective. So he created a new type of poison, similar to faebane. You can burn it out, which he loves. It's like a fun game for him—inflict the wound, heal it with even more pain, just to do it all over again."

Azriel's shadows seemed to still, softening in their movements. He fought the urge to keep them close, feeling them drift away towards the night air, towards you.

He scanned you with a burning gaze. He’d never noticed any scarring before, but then again, he'd only ever seen you from the back, your dress hitched up to your waist as he rutted into you from behind.  A tightness in his chest made him feel sick.

"I'm sorry," Azriel whispered before he even realized what he was saying, the honesty in his voice surprising even himself. Azriel didn’t apologize. He never did. Even when he should’ve.

You let out a wicked, cold snicker. "Don't go soft on me, Shadowsinger. We both know you're not really sorry. Just like your brute brother wasn't sorry when he figured out the same thing about Eris."

He shivered at the tone of your voice— a bite stronger than the night air that surrounded you both. His fists tightened at his sides as an image of Cassian came into his mind. He felt a rush of two things: blinding rage and blistering guilt. You had no right to call Cass a brute— Cass was a good brother, a loyal brother. And he and Azriel had talked about Eris, had talked about your brother, how little they cared about his punishments. The guilt bubbled up faster than the anger did, swallowing the rage entirely. 

The nighttime air felt suffocating now, pressing against his skin. As if you sensed it too, a cough escaped your lips, breaking the silence that had settled between you as Azriel observed you further. 

"That's enough sweet talk for me. I'll be leaving now," you declared, making a move to step away. Azriel intercepted your path, stepping in front of you with a determined stance.

You shot him a pointed glare. "I can just winnow away. You are aware of this, yes?"

Azriel ignored you, his gaze fixed on you as he searched your face for the answer to a question he didn’t know how to ask. 

"You left me earlier," he said.

You rolled your eyes, an incredulous scoff leaving your curved lips. “Gods, what is this, an exit interrogation? I just saved your ass and—”

He cut you off. “Earlier. When Renard ambushed us. You left.”

"Yes, Azriel, I did," you replied evenly.

The sound of his name seemed to cause a ripple, almost imperceptible, through the shadows around him. He flinched slightly and his stomach twisted into a small, tight knot. Azriel. 

Azriel's eyes darted between yours. “And then you came back.”

He could sense your growing annoyance, could see the simmering flame in your darkened eyes, the tightening of your hands.

"Are we summarizing the events of tonight?" 

He ignored you. “Why?”

"I'm not doing this with you," you shot back, frustration lacing your words as you attempted to push past him. But Azriel moved with a swiftness that caused a small sound of surprise to leave your lips. His strong grip closed around your arm, halting your movements and pulling you back into him.

Now, you were standing close, barely an inch separating your bodies. He could feel the heat of your body radiating against his and the faintest hint of a question lingered in his gaze. His shadows wrapped around your arm.

“Why?”

Your eyes locked with his and you sucked in a breath. "Because you're no use to me if you're dead.”

Azriel's thoughts raced. He hadn't meant those words when he said them, either. 

His shadows whispered things he couldn't quite focus on, their murmurs blending into the background as all he saw was you—so close to him. Someone who could have left him for dead. If Renard's men hadn't taken him so off guard, the poison would have. But you helped him, even after he insulted you, accused you of setting him up.

You looked like Lucien. You looked like Lady Autumn. You looked like Eris. But for the first time, you didn't look like someone he hated. 

"You are not Beron," Azriel said, his voice rough like gravel. He watched as your brows furrowed, your lips falling into a slight frown. "I should never have compared you to him. You are not your father.”

He could see the conflict in your eyes, darting across his face as you began to fall lax in his touch.

"And you're not your brother either," he added quietly.

The words felt like a confession from his lips, as if he was saying something besides the actual words he uttered. 

You blinked, staring at him as you pulled away slightly. Confusion flickered in his expression, his hand hovering where you had been in his hold. You took another step back.

"I am not my father," you affirmed, your voice steady. "I'm loyal. And I'm smart. And—" Your voice faltered. "And I get those things from Eris.”

Azriel stiffened, feeling his shadows tighten around him involuntarily as he watched you. He saw the softness fade from your face, replaced by a steely determination that caused a pang in his chest. You shook your head slightly, swallowed hard, and locked eyes with him.

"I am exactly like my brother. It's one of the things I'm most proud of.”

Before Azriel could respond, before he could even make a move toward you, you turned on your heel and were gone. The night swallowed you up, leaving him standing alone amidst the whispering shadows, grappling with the sickening vulnerability that washed over him like a wave. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

IM BACK BABIES AND IM WRITIN LIKE ITS A FULL TIME JOB

ill make parts shorter i swear (actually....will i???) but alas.... azzie baby has been hit in the face with the beginning of his FEELINGS!!!!

also, in case you wanna SEE our angsty hate-love birds, the super talented @micahssketchbook has sketched them not ONCE, but twice!!

The scene in part three where Azriel has reader in a chokehold and she pulls one on his ass by taking Truth-Teller

and what theyre about to be like in future parts with Az caressing readers face!!

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @vansaddy

[thegnomelord]

Ok, so I loved your dragon reader/ dragon price fic. The detailed courting rituals got me thinking about how different members of TF 141 react to a s/o who has different courting rituals than them.

The one rolling around in my mind rn is Gaz (which I'm pretty sure is a harpy or bird hybrid of some kind) with a dragon reader.

So Gaz tries to court reader through a more fancy version of pebbling. But, instead of giving cool rocks and sticks, it's gemstones and weapons. Yknow, expensive/fancy things that Gaz thinks the reader might want to add to his hoard.

Btw do you have an anon list? If so, is 👑 anon available?

I don't have an anon list yet but you're welcome to be 👑anon!

It's cool to think how they'd try to court you. I hc that werewolves, and Johnny by extension, are really straightforward. Like sitting way too close, hands roaming over your body, trying to lick into your mouth and going "Hey wanna make more of us?"

Ghost, the poor thing, is completely fucked bc he was human before becoming a wraith, how the Hell is he supposed to know? Que him going through Wikipedia articles and watching documentaries of your species courting and mating (having to rub one out imaging you and him in that position ofc) and just stumbling through the whole courting thing.

CW:NSFW

But Gaz? Oooh Gaz—

Safe to say he's fallen ass over tits for you.

It's the way you take care of them, of him, of the monstrous strength used to defend them turning velvet soft when Gaz needs emotional support that has his harpy hindmind demanding to lock you down before a competitor snatches you away.

Only problem — you're not a harpy. And Gaz has no idea how courtship works, as when he asks Price about it (under the guise of just being curious) the old fart just gives him an amused look and tells him to figure it out.

Though harpies and dragons are two different species, he figures there must be some similarities, so he figures to listen to the old fairy tales about your kind and looks for the shiniest thing he can find, because Harpies court by giving gifts and dragons like to hoard and both of them like shiny stuff right?

You're confused like Hell when one day you wake up to find a silver ring with a shiny amethyst sitting on your windowsill. You know for a fact it's not yours as the instinct to catalogue every item in your hoard is as old as the draconic blood running through your veins and you'd remember if you had it.

When you make sure it's not stolen and no owner can be found, (because who'd wear that type of ring in a military base?) you decide to keep it, failing to notice how the way Gaz's pupils get bigger when you put the ring in your pocket.

It is a nice ring, the shine of the gemstone tickling your brain in a pleasant way. The military doesn't allow dragons to have large hoards, most of the items you've gathered over the decades and centuries safely hidden in vaults, but it feels good to have a small hoard in your den.

You expect this to be a one off event. But. No. Every few weeks you find a new thing on your windowsill, from gems to guns to additions to weapons you've expressed you'd like to get. Each new thing leaves you scratching your head, annoyance growing bit by bit as there's never enough scent on the items to track the culprit down and it's not like you can turn the base upside down looking for them (again).

You're unsure how to feel; it's obvious someone is trying to court you, but it definitely can't be Price because no dragon would go about it like this. But you have to admit it's nice to be desired, regardless how odd the method may be.

Then you notice how Gaz has started acting. . . different. He'll ruffle his feathers and flutter his wings more than usual when you two are alone, purposely stretch more often to make your eyes naturally draw to him, sticking to your side as he talks about everything and anything under the sun.

You're also not a fool. You can figure out it's a harpy's way of trying to show off, but without any open hostility you can only assume he's trying to court you. And you let him, you like his presence and the sound of his voice, the way he gives you a lopsided smile and the way his dark feathers shine like onyx gems when the light hits them juuust right and the way he flushes and stutters when your tail wraps around his leg.

Then one late evening when you're doing paperwork you catch sight of something behind your window in the corner of your eye. Like a flash you're opening the window, your clawed hand gripping Gaz's hand before he can scatter.

Gaz's wings spread out wide, a surprised squawk leaving him as he looks into your slitted eyes. "Uh-, I, eh- Hi?" He says, gulping, his newest gift, a very shiny ruby, held in his hand. But what draws your eye are his dark feathers.

You let out an amused snort, "Hello." You purr, leaning in so your faces are close, enjoying the way he flushes from the proximity. "So you're the little thief that's been visiting me."

Gaz's feather puff up to make his silhouette twice as big, his eyes narrowing, a hurt and angry look spreading across his features. "I'm no thief!" He says, insulted that you'd suggest he can't get you gifts on his own. "I-"

"You are," You hum, reaching out your other hand to hold his jaw, and even with his anger he feels his mind croon at how softly you touch him. "You're in the process of stealing my heart."

"Oh." Is the most intelligent thing he can come up with, his pupils blowing wide like he'd just seen the shiniest thing in his life. "Oh."

"Yes," You shrug and pull your hand back to yank one of your scales out of your shoulder, giving it to him as you take the ruby. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?" You hum and then you let him go, going back to your work while he's left dumbstruck, clutching the scale close to his chest.

When it finally settles in his head that you'd just given him a gift, that you'd reciprocated, and given him a shiny gift, oh he's treating that scale like it's the most precious thing in his world. He keeps it close to him, cooing to it in the privacy of his room, keeping it on his pillow so he can fall asleep with your scent in his nose.

He also doubles down on the gifts, but now he's very open about it, to the point you'll have him randomly come into your office to give you something shiny or another weapon, preening so prettily when you praise the thing he's brought back, nuzzling into your neck and fluffing up his feathers. His heart swoons when you show him the small hoard you've made with all the things he's brought you, and you end up spending the entire evening with him cuddled up to you, chirping happily.

"Hey, can I see that scale I gave you?" You ask after a couple of weeks, curious to see how he's treated it.

"Uh, sure." Gaz can swear his heart's beating like a war drum as he watches you inspect your scale, checking for scratches or cracks.

But you find none, it's still as shiny as the day you'd given it to him. Maybe even shinier.

You smile and before he can do anything you pull him close to you by a hand on his hip. "Very well done, little thief." You hum, kissing him. Gaz melts against you, not even your lips able to muffle the happy chirps and croons that escape his chest.

You spend the next few months getting familiar with each other's bodies, lazy evenings spent with your clawed hands preening his wings, Gaz steadily melting into the bed with every brush of your fingers. Kyle taking a few extra minutes in the morning to rub his face between your wing, chirping and crooning.

Harpy mating season comes around and you're caught off guard when you come to your room to find your covers and pillows and entire wardrobe on the ground, turned into a makeshift nest with a very naked, and very horny, Gaz sitting in the middle of it.

His eyes are hazy but he knows you're there the second your scent hits his nose, the most desperate sound you've ever heard leaving his lips, bruised from how hard he'd been biting them to reign his noises in, to keep them only for you.

"Mate-" Kyle whines, shuffles in the nest that has the pretty gems he'd gifted you strewn amongst the fabric, "-need you, please- I-"

One more needy sound is all it takes to have you tumbling naked into the nest in record time, deep guttural purrs answering his pleased coos. He presses flush against you, seeking out your mouth, whole body burning up and his thighs shaking, his cock rock hard.

"I got you, pretty thief." You rumble, pulling him into your lap, his wings spreading out and feathers puffing up, as if he needs to make himself look even more desirable. "What do you need Kyle?"

"Need you," Kyle whines, pawing at your own erection, desperate fingers shaking as he strokes you, "Please- hurts, I need- mate."

You shush him with sweet kisses, your hand sliding down to very carefully stretch him open while avoiding injuring him with your claws, your mind purring at how willingly he opens up for you, wings and limbs shaking as he whimpers against your lips, his mind steadily leaking from his cock.

"You're alright," You calm him when you pull your fingers out, positioning him so your cock head rests against his entrance, not missing how Kyle preens at your strength. "Going to breed you right, gonna take care of you."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kyle moans are loud as you steadily push your cock into him, his walls clamping down on every inch of your length. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank- mate." His claws dig into your shoulders, clutching you tight as you bottom out in him, his hole clenching you in sync with his ragged breathing.

"I'm here," You hum, barely able to think, "Just relax, let me take care of you." You say, feeling him relax into you, and with deep purrs and lots of praise you begin to fuck him, moving him like a fleshlight on your cock, letting him moan and groan and scream his heart out uncaring who hears it, your ancient blood singing at the thought of his noises being a testament to your abilities as a mate.

Then the tight heat and the scent and just Kyle has your mind forgetting how to think, your body moving on it's own to show Kyle he'd picked a good mate.

[lanalace]

Gifts Given [Yandere Merman x FemReader]

Word count: 2,328

Summary: Nero Sol Nifan has waited for a mate for years while suffering from the madness that came as a side effect of the power he was bestowed. One day, he met you. His salvation. The only obstacle is that you were human. However, that was only an obstacle for you because he doesn’t plan to let you go.

Chapter 1 - Lost and Found

Life was a routine. Wake up, hunt, sleep and repeat. Occasionally the merman would share in song with the rest of his kind but that was it. He hated it. He was forever bored and life just felt mundane. Nero Sol Nifan was a 250 years old merman. He had reached maturity at 200 and had expected to find his mate within the first decade but no such luck. For a being so highly valued, it crushed his spirits. 

Most merfolk found their mates within the first decade of reaching reproductive age, so why hadn’t he? Every decade after that was just an insult to injury. It was an open wound that grew larger with each year that passed without finding his mate and he was becoming desperate, though he would never show it on the outside.

He was told by an elder that most unmated males felt this way at his age and that this was quite normal to feel anxious and desperate. But being unmated for years would start to dull the outlook on life and not a single female that has sought him out was his fated one. None so much as interests him. Every mermaid had a destined match, however that never stopped them from copulating until the day they found their mate.  He had both females and males fawn over him, within and outside of the mating cycles. But he rejected every single one of them. ‘If swimming to warmer waters was not ingrained in my biology, I would avoid it all together.’ Merfolk could enjoy each other's bodies whenever they pleased but only during mating cycles could offspring be produced and that's usually when most of his kind met their fated partner. 

He still held hope that he would be able to find his mate despite his age. So he made sure to always carry the betroval item in a white satchel around his hip, inside was a bracelet of brilliant large baroque pearls and shiny yellow gold spacers. It was of the highest quality and extremely rare/hard to acquire which is why he was the only merman to have such jewels grace his body and soon so would his person who he’d live out his days with. For now, having to watch the rest of his kind find their pair and their release in each other every year while he could not just enraged him. He was almost tempted to kill some of those pretentious merfolk. He could do so very easily but he decided against it. He could do it so very easily.

Nero Sol Nifan was the strongest, priding himself on becoming most desirable for when he found his future mate. Due to him not finding his mate for many cycles, he focused on honing his skill, reaching new heights that others previously could not. Now he was almost twice the size of a normal mermen, more muscular than the rest of his kind which would usually put him at a disadvantage for being so dense. It did mark him slower, however, that didn’t last long, he had trained his body night and day to be the fastest. Not only that, due to his intense training, he developed a power, a gift believed to be given from the great goddess of the sea. He had gained the ability to not only communicate telepathically with all sea life but he could also manipulate them freely to do his bidding. This made the fear, envy and love of him grow. He was like a God among his people.

Though his people viewed it as a gift, he couldn’t completely see it as such. Telepathy was a very useful skill to have but it was not within his control. It doesn’t turn off and more often than not, it was absolutely maddening. He was subjected to countless screams of pain, secrets he didn’t care to know, hatred, envy, unwanted depraved desires from unworthy mermaids. All of it was simply too much. As a result, he quickly began isolating himself, moving farther and further away from merfolk and into less populated waters. He was hoping distance might somehow help with the constant radio noise in his head. But he found it within an underwater cave, instead.

There cave was huge. It looked like an enclosed beach. There were bioluminescent fungi scattered along the ceiling and walls, giving the cave an almost magical feel. He looked at the beautiful glow of the cave, watching the pool leading to the ocean reflect off of the jagged walls. 

“Magnificent.” He said under his breath. He had never seen such a wondrous sight this deep under water. 

Nero Sol Nifan beached himself on the sandy floor of the cave, slipping his massive silver-white tail out of the water and curling it by his side. The moment he did that the noise in his head quieted down just a bit. It was still ever so present but it took the edge off. 

“Why is it that I was cursed by you, my goddess?” He spoke to the pool of water before him. He was expecting a response of some kind but was met with silence, the surface only reflecting his beautiful, milky face back at him. How he wished that he could go back to the time where he thought life was mundane. 

He sighed and laid himself down on a nearby rock that could pass as somewhat of a diving board. He was angry with the goddess, he cursed her name in his head and his hatred built for this deceitful deity who had taken his sanity. But he needed to rest. 

50 years later~

Nero Sol Nifan woke up to the sound of fish screaming in his head. He never got use to this day in and day out chaotic noise. He looked a little worse for wear since the days before his life became his own personal hell. His eyes looked dull, dark circles have taken up permanent residence under his eyes, tinged with red from the endless stress. His handsome face looked a bit haggard but that was not enough to take away much from his beauty. 

He dragged himself out of his cave and into the water. He hadn’t eaten in a few days, wishing to just parish within the walls of his cave. But today, something told him to go out. He didn’t understand the urgency amidst the buzzing chatter in his mind but he followed his instincts.

The white tailed merman swam out into the open ocean in search of his next meal. He felt uneasy today but brushed it off. It happened to be a rather dreary day, the waters were turbulent and a bit colder than normal while the world above was crying heavily. He knew that he could simply manipulate any fish to come to him and have an easy meal but he enjoyed hunting. It gave him a chance to release a small bit of the madness that he lives with daily on his prey. 

That’s when he spotted a school of red snapper fish. The bright color caught his sharp lilac eyes in an instant and he was off. Speeding quickly in their direction, with his large tail pistoling him forward. The smaller prey was easily more elusive than a larger catch but he made quick work of them. Keeping up with the fast changing paths of the snappers, he allowed the chase to go on a tad bit longer than necessary before slicing through the school with his massive claws, skewering 8 of them onto his claws. That was enough for a meal so he indulged right then and there as the rest of the school swam off. 

He was pleased, this meal would sustain him for the next two days. With a full stomach, the handsome merman lazily began his journey back to his cave. Had the water been steady today he would have basked in the rays of the sun instead. 

“Unfortunate.” He grimaced to himself.

He didn’t get more than a few feet away from his original position when he heard and unusual crash behind him. The white hair merman turned tin the direction of the sound and what he saw confused him

“A human?”

‘What was a human doing so far away from land?’ He thought to himself. There were no ships in the water, he would have seen it. Heck, he would have heard all the fish nearby chattering about it. His tired eyes landed on the sinking figure and his heart tightened. He felt something akin to panic start to take over him. It had been so long since he had felt anything outside of rage or pity for himself. He had the human in his arms before he even realized that he moved to catch her.And just like that, his world grew quiet. Nero Sol Nifan’s face grew into an incredulous look and his body trembled. 

“I can’t hear anything anymore.” His eye expanded in shock as he slowly looked down at the human in his arms and his grip tightened around the creature’s body. 

With a clear mind for the first time in ages, the merman blew a large bubble around the girl, encasing her within the translucent orb. He swam full speed to his cave, reaching there in record time. He pushed the bubble to the surface of the pool and burst it, catching the being and resting her on the crystal like sand. He brought his head to her face and listened carefully but no sound escaped those lips. 

“No!” He cried out. ‘I will not lose my salvation the moment I finally have it.’

 He gripped the creature's shoulder and shook hard a few times, noting how small and fragile you felt in his hands. Unfortunately, that did not work either. His panic rose because he thought that the human might have died so he placed his hand on its head.

“Still warm.” He whispered and that knowledge calmed him. Thinking quickly, he performed the maneuver that he had witnessed sailors use on their own kind on several occasions by pressing his palm on breast bone and applying pressure repeatedly. He was careful of his strength, knowing he could break such weak bones easily. It took about 30 seconds before the human's eyes flew open and it sat up, coughing up water.

‘It actually worked.  Thank goodness that I was able to preserve this human life.’ He sighed with relief. The merman eye the frail thing as it continued coughing and sucking in air, he could only see the back of its head from where he sat. ‘It looks so weak compared to the ship dwellers.’ His thoughts stopped there because that object of his quiet thoughts turned to face him and met his inquisitive gaze. 

The moment their eyes met, his cold heart froze. It was as if time stopped in that moment as he looked upon the tiny human. She was female, with thick, long h/c hair clinging to her face and back. Her dazzling e/c eyes sparkled like jewels with the tears she had yet to fully shed and a small coral pink lips that attracted he wished to touch. His heart started back up and it throbbed in his chest. He never thought his cold heart would beat for a human. His body felt so hot from the top of his cheeks to the base of his tail. 

‘What is this? My body feels so hot. Almost like it is mating season yet different. I feel drawn to this creature. Could this be my mate? Is this what all my suffering was for? To make sure that I was kept pure for this little human?’ It was uncomfortable but strangely pleasant. It was like nothing he had ever felt before but he decided he liked the feeling. It was exciting. ‘So this is my mate. I have cursed the goddess of the sea everyday for the past five decades because of this damned curse but she not only bestowed me with power, she also has gifted me this precious female. I am terribly sorry goddess I have wronged you and been ungrateful and undeserving. I will never look down on the blessing you have provided me again. I will never question you again.’ 

He was so caught up in his own inner thoughts that hadn’t even realized how terrified his tiny mate-to-be looked. She eyed him with fascination and great fear while she inched away from him. He didn’t like that one bit, narrowing his eyes, he yelled at her.

“Stay!” 

But the little female squealed in response, throwing her small hands out in front of her in defense. Her little scream sounded melodic to his ears. He found himself wanting to hear her talk to him so he spoke again, this time gentler. 

“Female, you are safe. I have saved your life. I will not harm you.” He reached a webbed hand out to her slowly, intending to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. But the girl flinched away and started speaking in a rushed manner. 

“Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. I promise I don’t taste good. Even sharks don’t like people meat. So please just stay where you are.” 

He retracted his arm and gave a small smile endearingly. Due to all the excitement, he had completely forgotten the language barrier. He did not understand her at all but her voice was so pretty and soft that he instantly liked it. It suited her feminine appearance well. If she had had a tail, he wouldn’t even blink twice and acknowledge her as a beautiful mermaid just based on her appearance and voice. 

Fast as lightning, he snatched the human's outstretched wrist and pulled her to him. Before she could so much as scream, the merman pressed his lips to her. 

[Chapter 2 is out!]

[cougheemedicine]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Jing Yuan x GN!Reader

Word count: 2463

Warnings: Nudity, suggestive but nothing explicit (they bathe together), drinking (drink responsively kids), no beta we just die, the impending wrath of Fu Xuan, ooc? I've never written him before, I think that's it?

Content: Fluff, some angst right at the end but all is resolved, established relationship, Reader is a long-living species, Reader is shorter than Jing Yuan, other characters mentioned, they're whipped your honor

Summary: Due to your position in the Xianzhou Luofu's sky-faring commission, you are rarely home. Often gone for months at a time. Your dear husband never copes well with your time apart. He always makes sure to make up for lost time.

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

   The ground under your feet slipped away before you knew it. So this is how it ends, this is how you die. Not the worst death one could have, you supposed.

       “General-“ A dying wheeze escapes you, “General, I can’t breathe.”

       Met only with a huff that sounded more annoyed than agreeing, the crushing weight on your ribcage lessens. If only slightly. Not enough for your feet to touch the ground, but enough for you to wiggle your arms out from where they were pinned to your sides, wrapping them around your husband’s shoulders.

       “I’ve missed you,” Low and hoarse, the deep baritone of Jing Yuan’s voice sends a shiver down your spine. You sigh, relenting to your husband’s affections. It had been months since you’d seen each other last. As the fleet-master of the Luofu’s sky-faring commission, one of your most important duties was to craft interstellar maps for all of the Luofu to use. The only way to do that was to go on the missions yourself, which could last between six to nine months.

       For the long-living Xhianzhou natives, nine months passed in the blink of an eye. For your beloved, equally as long-living husband? Nine months was torturous. The man laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. You debated on whether you should drag him back to work to avoid the wrath of Lady Fu Xuan on your doorstep in an hour’s time, or repent and simply bask in the presence of your man. Who was real and tangible, embracing you instead of hushed words through a disembodied voice on the other side of your phone, or a pixelated figure sitting bored at a meeting you had to attend via a live hologram.

       As his hand slowly rubbed up and down your back, his other hand supporting you while you still dangled in the air. You found the decision easy to make. You craned your head, pressing your lips to his hairline, right above his ear. “I’ve missed you too, my love,”

       But, there was one thing amiss. Even as you felt Jing Yuan smile against the fabric of your shirt. You could also feel the eyes on your back. Both of your crew, and of Luofu citizens. None of the gazes malicious, just a bit invasive. You could also hear the whispers. The giggling and gossiping.

‘The general’s gone soft,’

’Aw, how sweet!’

’How adorable…’

       “People are watching, general,” You spoke up, raising a hand to run through the hair that escaped his ponytail, tightening your hold on the back of his neck to keep yourself up. Jing Yuan sighed contently, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Let them,”

       “General, I’d like to bathe, and get out of this armor,” You tugged lightly at his hair, pulling his head from your shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. Any normal person would’ve seen no difference in Jing Yuan’s face, but you were far from normal. After centuries of marriage, you could tell. The curve of his brow, and the pull of his frown. “Stop pouting, general,”

       He rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. That tired, easy smile of his. He set you back on the ground, arms wrapped loosely around your waist. “Stop calling me general, then I’ll let you go,”

       Despite his words, he still let you go. Stepping to your right and linking his arm with yours. You shared a smile as you walked, leaving the port. “Whatever you say, Jing Yuan.”

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

        The sound that leaves your mouth as you sink into the steaming bath water would make even the most stone-faced of war veterans blush. You were never more grateful for the sheer lavishness of the general's residence than when you just return from a mission. The bath of the general's home was better described as a pool. Set in the tile floor, and large enough to fit ten people. The large window on the far wall overlooked the Luofu, saying the whole experience was lavish would be an understatement.

        The feel of tar running in your veins instead of blood finally subsiding as the salts and oils in the water sunk into your skin. You rest your arms on the edge of the bath, letting your head lull onto the tile behind you. You don't focus much on anything, eyes scanning the traditional Xianzhou architecture of the bathroom, and letting your limbs, heavy with fatigue, float weightless in the water.

        "Enjoying yourself, dear?"  Jing Yuan's voice brings you back from your trance, eyes bleary as his feet come into view. You slowly lift your gaze, shamelessly eyeing your husband in a thin robe that was far from befitting a general. He's holding a small, porcelain cup in each hand, intricately decorated, with a bottle of wine under his arm. Oh, how you've missed this. "Very much. Even more so now,"

        "I heard from your co-pilot that you had trouble with some rogue asteroids on your way back to the Luofu," He hums as he sets down the cups and bottle a small ways away from your head, settling behind you with a washcloth.

        You groan "Ugh, I don't want to talk about it. If it weren't for my navigators we wouldn't of been able to come back unscathed,"

        Jing Yuan coaxes you to lean forward, and you let out a rather undignified yelp when the cold soap on the washcloth touches your back. Jing Yuan laughs. you flick water at him.

        "I commend your navigator's skills. They seem very talented," Jing Yuan lathers the soap as he speaks, taking the washcloth across your shoulders and down your back. He then gently takes your right hand, running the washcloth down the length of your arm.

        "Of course they are, I taught them." Jest laces your tone, even as you submerge yourself to the neck to rid yourself of the suds. As you finish, you lay your head on Jing Yuan's crossed legs. Jing Yuan smiles softly, emotion swirling in the single eye you could see. He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. When he pulls back, the washcloth long forgotten, he runs his thumb across your cheekbone, then down the bridge of your nose, and over the curve of your lips. You've long since closed your eyes, a smile pulling at your lips. "Join me?"

        Jing Yuan is silent for a beat, and you lift your head once more. "Your wish is my command."

        Jing Yuan stands, and you watch him walk to the stool you had set your own robe on. You watch him fiddle with the knot at his hip, then slowly shrug off one side of the robe, then the other. Making sure to stretch his arms above his head, allowing you the pleasure of seeing the entire expanse of his back and arms. You can sense the smile playing on his lips, and you know he can sense your staring. He's teasing you. You avert your eyes the moment his robe drops to the floor. 

       You feel him slip into the water beside you, letting out a groan very much like the one you had earlier. He smiles at you, his hand creeping up to the side of your head, guiding it down to rest on his shoulder. The two of you sit in silence a while, simply enjoying each other's presence. Months ago, silence meant sitting alone, in the cramped captain's quarters of your starskiff, charting maps and scribbling reports to send back home. Silence meant nights that seemed endless, hunched over your work, and being far, far away from home. Silence that was so loud you had wished so very hard for moments like this to happen more often. 

        Jing Yuan shifts under your head, offering you one of the cups he had brought in. Wordlessly, you take it, allowing him to pour the wine into your cup, then into his own. "Tell me," You pipe up, swirling the cup under your nose. The scent was light, you watch as he takes a sip "When was the last time we've shared a bottle like this?"

        "I can't say I recall. You're very cruel you know, keeping me waiting so long to repeat moments like this," Jing Yuan downs the rest of the contents of his cup, resuming his previous position at your side. "Fleet Master." 

        "Excuse you, we were right on schedule. Even after the whole event with the asteroids," You grin, playing with the fingers on Jing Yuan's free hand. "General-"

        Jing Yuan surges forward, before you even have half a mind to process, slotting his lips against yours. You hum, his lips taste of wine, and the scent of his shampoo roles off him in waves. One arm slung lazily around your back, the other keeping his cup above the water, he parts from your lips with a gasp, dipping his head to pepper kisses down your jaw and neck. You manage to suck in a breath right as he lifts his head again, mashing your lips together clumsily. Desperately. If you didn't know your husband better, you'd think him drunk. With how careless he was being. The sound of his porcelain cup clattering onto the tile beside you ringing sharp in your ear only proving your thoughts.

        His grip on you tightens, bringing his other hand up to push you even closer together, you throw your arms around his neck to stable yourself. You can feel every dip and contour of his body against yours, the callouses on his hand sliding up your back to between your shoulder blades as he brings you oh so much closer, his loose hair tickling your face when he hunches forward. Kissing you even harder.

        You're the one to pull away. Or perhaps it was him? You don't really have it in you to care.

        The both of you are panting like dogs. You let your arms around his neck go slack, and his hands drop from your back to your hips.

        It's silent again, only your breathing filling the room. Without really thinking, you raise a hand, cupping your husband's cheek. Immediately he leans into your touch, covering your hand with his own and pressing a flurry of kisses to your palm. His face is flushed, pink from his cheeks to his ears, and his lips bruised. Truly a sight for your sore eyes.

        You peck Jing Yuan's cheek, the one you aren't holding, laughing quietly against his skin. He joins you, a deep chuckle that always brought a pleasant warmth to your chest. It was rare for Jing Yuan to laugh to heartily, even rarer for you to even be present to hear it. You don't think you'll ever tire of the sound. He presses his lips to your temple. "I think we better leave before we become prunes,"

        "Always so wise, my dear,"

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

       “Jing Yuan, I can’t walk with you both leaning on me,” You whine. Jing Yuan groans, leaning more of his weight onto you. His grip on the front of your night shirt tightens, wrinkling the light fabric as Mimi curls around your legs, head butting your thigh. A chuffing sound leaves the lion, as if she were laughing at you. Jing Yuan rests his chin on your shoulder, cheeks still pink from the heat of the bath.

        “Don’t be mean, she’s missed you,” He lightens his iron grip on you, running a hand through the fur on Mimi's back. You smell opportunity. You worm your way out of your husband's arms, as warm and comfortable as they are, you still need to walk. Narrowly dodging his hand, fully intent on tugging you right back, you stride on down the corridor. You needn't look back to see Jing Yuan huff and cross his arms, dragging his feet as he follows you.

        The moment you close the sliding door to your shared chambers, you're shoved onto the unnecessarily large bed. Jing Yuan crawls over you as you shuffle up to the pillows. He straddles you, a leg on each side of your torso, keeping you down with a hand on your shoulder. As you settle your hands on his hips, you feel the bed dip once more. From around Jing Yuan, you watch as Mimi sprawls out over the entire foot of the bed. A hand on your chin guides your eyes back to your husband's face. He leans down, kissing you gently. Your hands travel, from his hips to his waist, then up his chest and over his shoulders. You settle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his scalp. Sliding a hand down his nape to his shoulders, you gently push him down, letting him put all his weight on you.

        "This isn't uncomfortable, is it?" Jing Yuan lowly asks, barely above a whisper. He's already shifting his legs, leaving only his chest resting on yours. Always attentive, your Jing Yuan.

        "No love, it's perfectly fine," You sigh, continuing to card your fingers through his hair.

        Jing Yuan hums, pecking your forehead then the tip of your nose. He lowers himself till his head is cushioned by your chest, pressing another kiss to your collar bone before settling down right above your heart, curling his arms around your ribs.

        Mimi huffs, and you hear her breathing become slow. You've certainly missed this. You can feel Mimi's tail sway against your calf in her sleep, and Jing Yuan tightens his grip around you, you can feel his every breath against the thin fabric of your shirt. You continue scratching at his scalp. "Jing Yuan?"

        You hear him mumble something, he throws a leg over yours.

        "I'm sorry I'm away so often," It stings. Whenever you leave. The silent nights holed away in your office, or piloting your vessel. The homesickness eating at you the minute you leave port. Sometimes you can't help but think that having someone so dear be so far away takes a toll that isn't worth the pay off.

        "Distance makes the heart grow fonder, my love," Jing Yuan replies, muffled by the fabric of your shirt, and slurred by exhaustion.

        On second thought. Maybe having someone tying you to your home was a good thing. Who knows if you'd ever return from the stars if someone wasn't waiting at home. Speaking of home...

        "Jing Yuan, how did you convince Qingzu and Lady Fu to leave you be for so long?"

        The man stiffens in your hold.

        "Jing Yuan!"

˜”*°•.•°*”˜

work belongs to @cougheemedicine, all forms of plagiarism, modifying, translating, reposting are not allowed.

[yanderes-galore]

I gots more, can you do Yuji (and/or Gojo) with a darling from the real world? Or like he’s self aware?

My favorite way to write self-aware show characters is to write an entity that acts just like them. Similar to an Analog Horror I've seen (Forgot the name but if you want it, I can hunt it down) So for this, that's kinda the plot I'm working with if that's okay. So like... a Creepypasta-like thing if that's fine.

So, the plot is similar to something I've done in the past for both: You buy a DVD of JJK... but something isn't quite right as you soon learn. No plot spoilers here for JJK. Purely an AU.

Feedback is appreciated as long as it's constructive! I could probably do this with other characters if I was given ideas. Both ideas start the same but begin to differ later.

Yandere Self-Aware! Yuji Itadori + Satoru Gojo

(Analog AU - An Experimental Name?)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, "Self-Aware" yandere, Analog AU (?), Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Unrequited feelings, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his resolve and ability to find happiness despite his situation that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought off online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Yuji Itadori, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Yuji Itadori" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Yuji originally believed everything was real.

This was his life... until he felt your presence.

At first he's in denial, not liking the idea of being trapped somewhere.

But then he sees you.

You are someone he can't reach, someone beyond a screen he can only look at.

While you watch the events of JJK play out on your little DVD, Yuji watches you.

It's a bit ironic, until he grows strong enough and more aware, the show character watches you just as invested as you are.

Yuji can't help but fall into a delusional sense of love and care for you.

He can't help but be excited whenever he catches glimpses of you.

His obsession is vague, as he is just now learning about his love for you.

He feels he wants to protect you, yet expresses frustration when he can only watch you from a clear barrier.

You can pick up on his self-aware behavior, things like glances, waves, and times where he says your name when other characters aren't looking.

The change is slow for him, but quick for you.

His feelings and growth continues through the episodes, the time feeling like months or years for him but hours for you.

Half way through the show you notice Yuji's behavior.

You're frightened at first, but maybe a morbid curiosity fills you?

This begins with you two properly communicating.

Certain plot points are paused or lengthened all so Yuji can speak with you.

It's so strange... like you're actually speaking to a human being.

Yuji is always very affectionate when speaking with you.

Often calling you nicknames, asking questions, and providing comfort after long days.

You see him as your little digital companion, while Yuji sees you as a lot more than that.

He's the only one aware of you, the other characters seem more like puppets to Yuji so he can play a story for you.

He likes seeing you happy and does whatever he can to make you smile.

Darker behavior manifests later as Yuji begins to realize he... isn't a big part of your life.

Through the screen he can see you have friends, family, everything.

You're the biggest part of his world, but he's the smallest part of yours.

As this DVD has supernatural capabilities (clearly), perhaps Yuji would pull you into his world once he fears he can lose you.

The next time you get to watch JJK, Yuji greets you.

"Hey! I've been preparing a surprise for you..."

Curious, you go to ask what it is...

Only to pass out.

By the time you wake up, you're not in your world anymore.

You wake up in a dorm, clearly not your room.

As you wake up, you jump back when you see Yuji kneeling beside you.

"Great! It did work!" He chirps happily, eyes closed with a smile on his face.

You go to ask what happened, only for Yuji to hold your hands.

"I brought you to my world! You mean a lot to me... plus, here I can shape this world to anything you want."

Yuji pulls you closer, closer to the point you can see a red glint in his eyes.

"I love you... and I just want to make you happy." Yuji vows, the confession innocent despite the situation.

"We'll make this our own little world."

"I want to go home!" You cry, confusing Yuji.

"Why would you ever want to leave...?"

Yuji asks, pulling you close.

"You'll be so happy here..." Yuji murmurs, eyes giving off a dull red glow.

"You won't ever want to leave... you won't ever leave me again."

From that point on, you live in an artificial world.

You and Yuji are the only ones "real" here.

Now he's the most important thing in your life, just like you are to him.

Satoru Gojo

Satoru Gojo is your favorite character from Jujutsu Kaisen.

There's just something about his playful/cocky attitude and perhaps even his looks that makes you fond of him.

It's all harmless fun for you, everyone has a favorite character after all.

Although... unlike most... it appears you've been caught in something you weren't expecting.

The DVD you bought online didn't have the best packaging... but DVDs that aren't official tend to have bootleg packaging.

You just couldn't afford a streaming service and wanted to binge the two seasons of JJK they have out.

It seemed harmless enough, who hasn't pirated or purchased a pirated DVD at some point without knowing.

Even when you watched the DVD, everything seemed the same.

You were completely unaware of something lurking deep within.

This entity, now given the name Satoru Gojo, was awoken and given life when you used the DVD.

It could sense your fondness for the character and took the likeness of him.

Everything from appearance, personality, and mannerisms was copied as the entity took a new life.

Eventually they felt they were the character and felt every bit of fondness you had for them.

That's how "Satoru Gojo" came into being.

It's when this transfer is complete that things start to alter.

It's like the DVD opens an alternate universe, one where the events of JJK are part of their very own world.

Due to how Gojo is, he'll probably learn that his world isn't real faster than Yuji.

He'll learn that things aren't as they seem, that those around him are merely puppets for him to use.

At first he's a bit hurt... yet now he's curious.

He only gets more intrigued when he learns of your presence.

While you watch him through the screen, he watches you.

You always look so happy when he plays his part on screen, playing his role through the events of his world.

Gojo still plays along, even as he grows increasingly obsessive about you.

He just knows you two are different.

It only annoys him when he's kept from you by a clear barrier, looking at you through your TV or monitor as you watch him.

He's strong... but not strong enough to have you, it seems.

To him, it feels like his obsession has gone on for years.

For you? It feels like hours.

You're just happy to watch one of your favorite shows...

Completely unaware of your favorite character fantasizing about finally meeting you.

That is until Gojo decides enough is enough... and makes his presence known.

"Oi! Can you hear me?"

He makes contact with you by pausing events in the story and waving to the screen.

Maybe similar to the Yuji portion you're overcome with morbid curiosity more than fear.

Which leads to you feeding into Gojo's obsession by speaking with him.

Due to having his world under his control, Gojo's capable of pausing or slowing down events in the story to speak with you.

He alters things to entertain you and often speaks to you.

You end up spending more time speaking to him than watching the show normally.

You learn that Gojo is very playful with you.

He often waves, makes heart shapes with his hands, and winks at you.

He likes to say your name to mess with you and does his best to press himself closer to the screen so you can touch it.

It disturbs you that the screen is often... warm when he touches it.

Gojo's usually always playful with you until he begins to realize the truth.

He loves you, more than anything he loves you.

His little world would feel lonely without you.

His whole purpose is to entertain you, to make a good story for you and keep you company.

He lives for you.

Yet he notices you have others around you...

You have friends, family, perhaps even a lover.

He's only a little part of your life... and it upsets him greatly.

Gojo tries to hide his hurt from you as he watches you chat with others.

He wants nothing more than to have you all to himself in this little world of his...

When he grows stronger... he can.

It's ironic for Gojo to need to be "stronger".

In his world, he's the strongest.

Yet he takes time to grow more in order to have you.

He won't have to worry about your lover or anyone afterwards.

"I have something to show you~!"

His voice is in a purr when you go to speak with him again.

"Here's my gift... you know I just want to make you happy..."

You begin to feel woozy, slumping over.

"You know I just want to make you mine."

By the time you wake up, you're in a room you don't recognize.

Only for Gojo to show up with a grin.

"Yo!" He chirps, ignoring the fear in your eyes. "I did pretty good, right? You're in my world now... but I can change anything I want to make it the best for you."

He's so giddy about having you beside him.

In here, he doesn't have to worry about those close to you.

He has everything under control... and you in his arms.

"What's with the look? Come on, where's my hug?" He pouts, pulling you against him even if you struggle.

"You'll get used to it..." Gojo whispers, a kiss placed on your forehead.

"I exist to please you..." Gojo whispers, kissing your cheek.

"This is our world now... I'll never let you leave me now that I've got you."

[takumiraine]

Once Upon A Time chapter 5

<first> <prev> <next>

Jason Todd knew it was only a matter of time until his bubble burst and one of his brothers found out what he was getting up to. He was just hoping he could pull it off for a little longer. Even though the pit still reacted at the strangest times, he felt calmer, more normal, than he had in years. He wanted to hold it close and make sure nobody could take it from him.

From Replacement: you went back to college? Does B know?

Fuck.

—

Danny had been wary at first. Rich boy Jason Todd-Wayne in his college classes. The man was older than Jazz, though not by much, and a freshman with him. Either the guy was a bad influence or Danny just had really shitty luck.

He and the universe both knew the answer to than one really. But 60 bucks a week to reteach the guy basic math and Jason always gave him dinner in the deal? Danny wasn’t going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth. If there was one thing Danny had forgotten during the past almost two years it was how hungry his human side got. Not having money and being on the run meant opportunities to eat were few and far between.

What Danny didn’t expect was how sarcastic and assholish the rich guy could be. He loved trading snark. Danny assumed that it came from them both having older siblings. But between that and the half formed core that was slowly shoring up, Danny found himself growing attached. He had missed having friends. Getting to talk to Sam, Tucker and rarely Jazz through a conspiracy message board wasn’t enough. Most of the time it was just a way to make sure that nobody had been captured by the GIW. They had a way to pass longer messages but to do that too often would be suspicious.

“So I don’t get it,” Danny said, gesturing at Jason with some fries almost a month into tutoring, “What do people actually do at Galas? The tabloid pics just show a bunch of people in uncomfortable looking suits standing around with champagne.”

“….thats really it. It’s boring as shit.” Jason kicked his chair back on two legs, leaning against the wall. “If I liked you less I’d invite you.”

“If you liked me less?”

“Oh yeah. Because then you’d have to meet my brothers, the assorted not quite adopteds, my dad and scarier yet, our butler.” Danny choked on his laugh.

“Your butler is the scary one in that situation?”

“Alfred is like a ghost. Always there when you turn around.” Jason put on the accent “Master Jason, you really must come home more. Nobody quite enjoys my cooking like you.” He let the chair legs settle on the floor. “Now imagine that from behind you in a dark kitchen at two am while you’re half drunk and trying to make a sandwich.”

“Okay, yeah, I could see it being that scary. My sister was….” Shit he hadn’t meant to mention Jazz. “She was the only one who cared sometimes.” May as well rip that bandaid off.

“Yeah?” Jason asked, taking a drink from his coffee cup. “Didn’t know you had a sister.”

“My family and I don’t see each other anymore. It’s for the best.” He hoped Jason wouldn’t ask more questions, because ‘my parents sold me out to the government that only knew where I was because of the Justice League which is why I hate them and by association your dad, and now my sister is in hiding in a different state with a new identity’ was way too difficult to explain. “I left before they could kick me out.”

Danny watched Jason’s face twist into a frown. “Bigots suck. Sorry man.”

“Yeah…. Well…” Danny busied himself with finishing his burger. Then, once he chewed and swallowed. “Wait. Is your dad the one that fell into the champagne tower last year?”

Jason groaned, “he’s not always like that I promise.”

“No I get it. A weird ‘Family Friend’ invited us to his fancy party so he could hit on my mom once. I accidentally on purpose took out the entire buffet table including a cheese fountain so we had to go home.”

“Cheese fountain?”

“You know those chocolate fountains?” Danny asked. Jason nodded. “Like that, but with fondue cheese instead. And before you ask why, all I can say is it was in Wisconsin.”

Jason watched him with an unreadable expression for a moment, and Danny assumed he was processing it, because when the expression broke, Jason was laughing.

He looked so much younger when he laughed like that, and Danny remembered that they had both had, in their own ways, a rough life. “Yeah. I know. I was finding cheese in the weirdest places for weeks.”

“Did you get invited back?” Danny’s heart ached with the fact that a month or so later, Everything Fell Apart.

“No… I…” he cut himself off, remembering the horrified looks his parents gave him as their weapons, the ones he fixed, were turned against the ‘beast’ that ‘possessed’ their son. The looks mimicking the ones they gave him when the party screeched to a halt as he did his best impression of a Scooby Doo villain being unmasked. The screams of shock turning into ones of horror. The -

“-anny? Danny?” He blinked and shook his head.

“What? Oh, sorry.” He took another drink from the coffee, emptying the cup. “No. I never was asked back. You done?” He looked at their empty plates and grabbed the tray. “We should get to the library. Though I’m sure someone as good looking as you has plenty, these x-es won’t find themselves.” He was overcompensating for zoning out now, words coming out faster than normal.

“Yeah… are… you okay?” Jason asked, as Danny bussed their tray and grabbed his backpack, a backpack bought by his tutoring money. A tutoring gig he desperately did not want to fuck up with his own bullshit.

“Me? Fine. More than. I just zone out sometimes. Come on.” Danny’s words were still coming out too fast. He took a few breaths during the couple seconds Jason took getting his things, trying to ground himself as much as possible. He was going to be normal. He was going to be normal if it killed him. Again.

The walk to the library was quiet and Danny was thankful for that. He needed to get his head on straight if he was going to be any help to Jason and he still had his own homework to do after. As they walked in, both Danny and Jason instinctively looked towards the desk where Barbara usually worked, but she wasn’t there, some other guy was checking in books with quiet beeps.

Danny had learned over the last month that while Dick, Tim and Damian were Jason’s official siblings, Barbara was an unofficial one and he liked her the most.

It made sense, since she didn’t seem to pry into Jason’s life the way Jazz would have if she was here. Not that he would have minded her prying for how much he missed her, but four years ago he would have hated it.

—

Jason knew the haunted and hunted look that had settled into Danny’s eyes. The way he trailed off into something vacant. How his breathing seemed to get stuck in his chest. Which is why he tried to interrupt the cycle before he could spiral. Something big happened to him, and Jason knew he wouldn’t want to break down in a cafe in front of people.

Thankfully he seemed to snap out of it quickly, instead overcompensating into energetic. The message was clear. ‘Don’t ask about what just happened.’ Carefully, Jason let Danny lead him into the library, aware of his positioning and making sure not to follow too far behind or loom too much. Considering he had at least six inches on Danny, that last part was hard, but he tried.

He could feel the pit spiraling in him, circling and coiling like a dragon deep in his chest. Itching to do…. Something. It wasn’t punch or claw or fight. This was new. He didn’t like it in the slightest.

He looked over to where Babs usually was, then remembered she had a class, criminal justice degree, how apt, as he and Danny went towards what was now their spot. Jason found he had the sudden impulse to pull Danny’s chair out for him, and shoved that particular useless idea back down into the abyss it belonged in.

—

Danny looked over at Jason who stood at the edge of the table looking…. Angry? Confused? and pulled out his own books. “I promise, my zoning out isn’t contagious.” He said, looking up at Jason and kicking the chair across from him out from under the table for Jason to sit. He gave a wry smile, “if it was, I don’t think anyone in my high school would have made it.”

Jason snorted a laugh, snapping out of whatever thoughts he had been thinking. Jason pulled the chair out further and sat, sitting more comfortably than he used to. More of the true Jason, Danny was realizing, less of the person he was supposed to be. In another lifetime…. But no. He couldn’t… not while he was being hunted. It wouldn’t be fair to Jason to have to hide such a huge part of himself and his past.

Not to mention he hadn’t ever come out to Jazz and his friends. Well he had…. But more in the ‘hey I’m dead but not really’ way and less in the ‘so I like guys’ way.

But in spite of those barriers, this tentative friendship with Jason was enough to keep him happy.

Which made the next kick in the teeth from the universe completely expected.

All he had wanted was to walk home in peace. Sure it was almost midnight, in Gotham, but still. He made it most of the way, and was slinking through the Bowery when it happened.

Guys with dark clothes and weapons were suddenly in front of him. He turned only to see more at his back. There had to be five in total? Or was it six? Danny didn’t have time to count.

“Hey guys.” He hedged, muscles tensing as he raised his hands to show he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to get home. Long walk and all that. If I could just…. Scooch past you?” Danny took a step to do just that and the lead goon swung at him with a baton.

He hopped back slightly, dodging the hit when it came. “Not a chance. Boss needs some…. Help with his latest ideas. You’re coming with us.”

Danny ran through his options in his head. Option 1: get kidnapped. Option 2: get the shit kicked out of him. Option 3: beat the shit out of them and get labeled as a possible bat to be or possible rogue to be. Option 4: go fully ghost and either escape unscathed but wind up more firmly on the GIW’s radar.

Option two or three would wind up happening, because he wasn’t going to put himself at the mercy of the Bat-ass again, and he wasn’t going to offer himself up on a silver platter to the GIW.

The moment one tried to grab him, Danny dodged out of the way, and that seemed to bring the goons on him en masse. They seemed well practiced, but considering it was Gotham, there wasn’t a big surprise there. The next few minutes were a flurry of elbows and knees, punches and kicks, batons and clubs.

Danny would dodge and counter, disarm one and fling their weapon across the street. He would have sore ribs and bruises from his elbows to his knuckles come morning but he was slowly winnowing them down. He had a brief thought about the conservation of ninjutsu, as the fewer goons there were the stronger they seemed to get. The realistic answer was they were less concerned with hurting each other when there were fewer of them, he knew that. But everything was more fun with ninjas.

When there were three left, one threw a punch that connected with his nose. There was a pop and crunch and a hot rush of blood down his face even before the pain set in. He spat out the blood that collected in his mouth from the way his head snapped back when he was punched. Another one came at him, and his own years of training caught the guy’s arm, judo throwing them into another look and sending them both careening into a wall. The move was trickier with gravity, but he made it work.

Danny looked up at the last remaining goon. He grinned, teeth too sharp and stained with his own blood, eyes glowing just the faintest green. “Run.”

They did.

Unfortunately for the goon, they ran smack into the chest of one Batman.

[pinkslipxox]

Hey! I have a request. Not sure if you are taking them at the moment? If not, please ignore this. This idea has come from personal experience lol, I was in the store today just going to pick up some random things but I came across a baby section, they had cute little toys and a cute crib. It just really made me realise how much I want to have a baby one day.

Maybe you could make a fic, Billie and reader go to the store late at night in their pj's because billie wants to pick up something silly (you can decide) and the reader just wanders off while she's waiting and comes across a baby section and just can't help but think how much she really wants to have a baby with Billie one day. Billie comes over and asks us what we are thinking about, and we just look at her and tell her how much this really makes us want to have a baby. And to our shock, Billie says she wants to have a baby too. Just all fluffy.

- Thank you so much 💓

ahhh how adorable! Manifesting that one day you have your baby, angel xx ilysm 🫶❤️

———————————-———————————————

“Billie, I can’t believe you,” you say between laughs as your wife parks the car in the near empty grocery parking lot.

“My love, we can’t have hot chocolate unless there’s whipped cream. It’s like a sin,” Billie proclaims with playful determination, sending a wink to you.

You shake your head fondly at her with a smile. Being married to Billie included random yet memorable moments like this. One minute the two of you were laying in bed, the next you two were up making hot chocolate because the two of you collectively thought that waiting to fall asleep was boring. Yet in the midst of making said hot chocolate, Billie discovered that there was no whipped cream to be found in the fridge. Which explains why you two are in the parking lot of a grocery store twenty minutes before closing time.

Hand in hand, you and Billie hurry inside the grocery store. It is brightly lit and a few shoppers can be seen buying their last minute purchases. You and Billie come here so often that the both of you already know whole store like the back of your hands. It is also the most convenient location since it’s less than a ten minute drive from your house— five minutes if Billie is driving.

“Billie, I just remembered. We’re out of laundry detergent,” you muse and Billie nods.

“Okay. How about you get the laundry detergent and I get the whipped cream? And then we meet back here,” she suggests and you smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you reply and Billie kisses your forehead.

“Don’t get lost, Y/N,” she smirks and you playfully roll your eyes at her.

You watch Billie walk off for a moment before making your way to the aisle where the laundry detergent is. And despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself looking through the baby aisle. On the shelves are everything an expectant parent might need for their child— formula, diapers, baby monitors, strollers. Your favorite thing to look at are the clothes. Especially the little shoes.

Having a family has always been a dream of yours. To hold a baby boy or girl in your arms, kiss their little face, inhale their newborn scent, and watch them grow up. You’ve yet to talk to Billie about it. She’s so good with kids, and it makes your heart melt whenever you see her interact with them. Sometimes you even dream of you and her with a blue eyed baby boy or a blonde haired baby girl with your eyes.

Only time will tell.

“There you are, my love,” Billie exclaims as she walks over to you with the whipped cream in her hand. She smiles at you and then looks at the baby outfit you’re admiring. Then, with a playful smirk, she teases, “I don’t think that’ll fit you, Y/N.”

You smack her arm playfully. “Oh, shut up, Bills.”

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” Billie asks after a beat of silence. She then adds, “And don’t just say ‘nothing’, you always say that.”

You laugh softly at that. She knows you so well. That’s what makes her the best wife in the world. She’d also make the best mother in the world. Next to Maggie and your own mother, of course.

“It’s just… looking at all this stuff makes me want to have a baby,” you hum, a hint of hesitant in your voice. You then turn to Billie, sliding your hand into hers, squeezing it gently. “Don’t you ever think about having a mini you or me running around the house, Bills?”

“I do, actually,” she confesses, much to your shock and delight. Her voice is soft and warm, and a gentle smile tugs at her lips. “I want to experience everything life has to offer with you, Y/N. It’s just that… well, I assumed you didn’t want kids because we’ve never talked about it before.”

“Of course I do, Billie. More than anything,” you murmur as happy tears begin to swell up in your eyes.

Billie chuckles. “It’s settled, then. Let’s have a baby, Y/N.”

“Oh, Billie,” you sigh, content, as you wrap around arms around her, your heart swelling with love and excitement at the thought of having a child in the near future.

“I love you, Y/N Y/M/N O’Connell,” Billie murmurs softly, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

“I love you, too, Billie,” you whisper, kissing her cheek.

“How about we buy that outfit? You know, for motivation,” Billie says and you nod enthusiastically, loving the idea.

“And the shoes?” you request with a pout as you hold up the cutest little pair of Converse.

“Whatever you want, mama,” Billie chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

Mama.

You love the sound of that.

[editorandchief]

Hell Hath No Fury | Aemond Targaryen

Request: Yes

Summary: Aemond has become distant and you find out why.

Warning: blood, miscarriage, cheating, assault

Hell Hath No Fury Masterlist

You couldn't believe it.

He was the good brother, the dutiful son, the valiant knight... the faithful husband. There was no way that your Aemond wouldn't do this to you. 

This explains why he was traveling so often to Harrenhal away from you for so long when you needed him the most, you thought as you rubbed your swollen belly staring at the piece of paper in your hand. 

He had gotten that whore pregnant, and from the letter it seemed you two were both soon to give birth.  

Alys Rivers, the strong Bastard, the Witch...Yet another thing you two had in common, maybe your husband had a type.

This was it. the beginning of the end. If Alys Rivers gave birth to that child there is nothing that would stop her from coming to court, having her child legitimized, having Aemond take her as a mistress, bringing shame and embarrassment upon you and your child.

No.

"Push princess, push." The midwife needlessly instructed as someone wiped the sweat from your brow. 

"I do appreciate your help and respect and acknowledge that you have helped bring many royals into this world so please forgive me when I say, 'please shut the fuck up and let me concentrate." You yelled back as you took two deep breaths before closing your eyes and letting your head fall backwards. 

Opening your eyes again you see your in a hallway standing in front of a door, you can still hear the midwives telling you to push. placing your hand in the door you push it open slowly as you see the sight of Alys Rivers and Aemond in bed together. 

His arm is wrapped around her, as they are both naked it isn't hard to guess what it was that had made them so tired. Walking into the room you hear the door close behind you just as you stand right above them. As if sensing your presence Alys' eyes snap open and stare up at you. 

She opens her mouth to wake Aemond before you stop her. 

"Don't bother calling out, her can't hear us." You informed her reaching for his arm and throwing it away from her causing his to shift in his sleep and turn over. "No one can. From the look on your face I can tell you know exactly who I am, which is amusing considering I knew nothing of you a moon ago."

"I know this must be upsetti-."

"No! You don't because you are not his wife, you are not the one he married and swore loyalty to only to turn around and impregnate some whore." You sneered at her as she flinched back. "What was your plan? to take my husband, become and mistress, you seek to replace me and my child?" You asked as she simply shook her head in denial. 

"It was never meant to happen like this, but I love Aemond and he loves me, I'm sorry that you are hurt by this but that is the truth of it. I never thought I would be able to have children but this is a gift that Aemond has given to me and we both are thankful to be having it, but that does not mean he is any less thankful for your child and I promise you that I mean no harm to your life, marriage or the life of your child."  Alys rushed to explain. Taking a moment you look on at this women in bed with your husband and think of her words.

"Words....are not enough." You say before Alys' body is forced down into the bed. Leaning over her you pulled the sheets from her body exposing her milky skin to the cold air. 

"What are you doing?" Alys asked as she struggled against the invisible force. 

"Don't worry I am simply righting a wrong," You informed her as you pulled a knife from your dress. "The child that grows inside of you belongs to my husband"  You continue as you placed the blade to her belly.

"No! Please no." Alys pleads as she fight to get away from you. "I'm beg you please. I have wronged you I admit but my child is innocent, Aemond's child is innocent." 

"I know." You say before plunging the knife into her womb as she lets out a blood curtailing scream. Once the cut was made you reached inside of her wound ignoring the blood and cries of the women as you pull the child from her body. Cradling the child in your arm you softly coo to the child as Alys lets out another round of sobs. "Please do not morn for the child will live, but it will be birthed by me, as should all children of my husband." 

Turning and walking away the door slowly creaks back open allowing you to walk back into the hall. "Though I am very thankful for this gift you and my husband have given to me Alys, I trust it will be the last one" You say before the door closes once again. 

"Just one more push my princess." You left you head once again over come with the pain of child birth. "Here it comes." After one more push the room is filled with the cries of your child. 

"A prince, you have given birth to a prince." The midwife announced moving to retrieve a blanket for the newborn. She began to hand you your child before you leaned forward and let out a painful groan. "The afterbirth."

another midwife crouched between your leg as you groan in pain. "No there is a head, there is another babe." She informed sending the room into another round of panic as you were instructed again to push.

"Another prince." She soon declares as the second child begins to cry. 

 Cradling both babes in your arms you look down at the two clearly Targaryen princes with a small smile, Alicent entered the room quickly making it to your side "Aemon and  Armon." You names them as she looks to her grandchildren made my her favorite son. 

***

It had been three days since Aemond woke to Alys' screams, the sheets around her covered in blood as she cradled her stomach. The maesters said it was a miscarriage, but Alys insisted that it wasn't, when Aemond tried to comfort her she yelled for him to leave her and refused to be near him. After the second day of trying he chose to return to Kingslanding where is was notified that his wife had given birth to twin boys. 

Entering the chambers he sees his wife cooing at the two newborns laying on their bed. Turning towards your husband your eyes widen. "Aemond, I thought you were Beth to assist me with taking the twins to midday meal, the family wished to meet them." 

"Well I am sorry to disappoint you," Aemond teased walking closer to the bed. "But I promise I can try to be as good as Beth until she arrives." 

"Oh stop." You laughed a bit before letting out a sigh. "Actually I am glad that you are here, I wanted to speak with you."

"What is it you wish to speak of?" He asked rubbing his knuckle along Aemon's face.

"I know that this marriage started as an arrangement, but I understand that at the time we both believed that we become fond of each other and perhaps even love, and I thought that we had begun to share these feeling but I realize that I can not hold you to promises we made as children." You now had his full attention. "And if it is what you want, I will not fight you on seeking annulment."

"You have been distant and it was not until the twins were born that I realize just how distant you've become, we used to spend time together, reading, painting, laughing but I gave birth for the first time and my husband was not to be found." You explained. "I do not blame you for not returning my feeling or for pulling away but I can't live thinking that I'm driving you from your home or thinking that this distance between us will affect our children." 

"Please," Aemond says grabbing your hand and kneeling at your side. "Your feeling are returned I swear it to you, my distance is of no fault of your own."

"Then what is it?" You pleaded looking into his eyes. "I wish for you to be there for our children, for them to love and be moved by you. You once told me you didn't want to be like your father, I do not want this either."

Looking into your eyes Aemond knew he couldn't tell you the reason, he knew it would break your heart and he couldn't do that to you not after you had just given him two son, not ever. "It matters not, It will never happen again." He assures giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "I will not be the father viserys was to me and I will not be the husband he was to my mother. You three are my life and I will spend every second to assure that you know it. 

"My princess It is time for your midday meal with your family." Beth informed entering the chambers.

"Thank you Beth would you please hold Aemon and I will take Armon you instruct as Aemond stands and helps you from the bed. Standing and walking towards the door you asked Beth to please walk ahead of you. "I thank you for hearing me Aemond and I do hope this isn't asking to much but I also must ask something else of you." 

Aemond nodded as he rubs his hand up and down your back in comfort. 

"I wish for this to be a pleasant occasion so I must ask you not fight with Jace and Luke, though it seems you have grown quite fond of Strong bastards as of late." You say before walking ahead leaving his frozen in the door way of the room.  

Part Two

[lurkingshan]

10 Things I Love About Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

This wonderful little show has come to an end, and I feel compelled to tell folks why I loved it, and why you should watch if you haven't yet. First, a big word of thanks to @isaksbestpillow for providing her excellent subtitles and making this show available to international fans. You can find all seven episodes here, get them while you can!

This drama understands that sometimes we really do want to fuck that old man

I don't know what to tell you, the man is hot. He is kind, patient, and generous, he's a master chef, he has a beautiful home with a garden that he tends himself, he is a loving dog owner, and on top of all that he has a hilarious dry wit. Who wouldn't want to fuck him??

Ishida is an endearing protagonist having a relatable quarter life crisis

Ishida certainly does! Which is a nice little revelation for him in a time when he's already struggling to figure himself out, as it's his first time wanting to fuck a man and his work colleague to boot. Ishida has hit a stumble in his original career choice and is feeling pretty apathetic about his job when he meets Mitsuya and gets his world rocked.

Mitsuya is a weary older man who has been burned

Mitsuya is quite a contrast to Ishida as an older adult who very much has his shit together, but has also survived some deep hurts living as an out gay man and grown reluctant to let people in. He and Ishida both see something in each other that the other needs.

It's a food drama that will make your mouth water

The food Mitsuya makes and serves to Ishida in this show looks so delicious that I had to make sure I was fed before watching each episode. Mitsuya can feel free to bait me with food any time.

Shige is my idol

We get to spend ample time at the neighborhood bar, where Mitsuya's old friend Shige serves drinks and hot goss. Shige is a great mix of the wise elder gay dispensing advice and the mischievous trouble maker who likes to stir the pot. I love him, and this show's understanding of the realities of men their age living out and proud.

Frito is a very good dog

FRITO! I'm not always too hype about pets with prominent roles in my shows, but in this story Frito is an important character and an emotional support to Mitsuya, and often provides impetus for Mitsuya and Ishida to grow closer.

Have I mentioned this show is hilarious

Truly, so funny. I laughed out loud during most episodes. Ishida is a walking comedy show as he flails through life, and the few moments when Mitsuya's dignified exterior cracks will have you howling.

It gave us one of the best dates I have ever seen on my screen

I still think about this date all the time. It was so beautifully written to underscore why this couple fits and how they each meet the needs of the other. Just having seen this one day spent together, it's easy to understand how a life between the two of them would unfold.

This show has a mature and nuanced understanding of relationships

We get deep into the show's perspective on love and romantic relationships via the return of Mitsuya's ex, Kaoru, a plot which the story handles with remarkable grace. I loved the space they gave to Mitsuya's former love and need for closure, and that Kaoru was not treated like a villain. He even got to provide an assist to Ishida!

The main romance feels deep and compelling

All of this adds up so that by the time we got to the finale, I really believed in this romance and why Ishida and Mitsuya needed each other, and the way the show dug into their hesitations and fears around that was so moving. My only regret is this show is short and we can't follow them to keep watching their lives together, but we got what we needed to feel confident in their future. I will miss them.

[sorcerousundries]

If you're taking requests, could you please write something about which Lotr and The Hobbit characters would be most attracted to a reader who's really intelligent and good at debating them? Like I'm picturing a sort of Rivals to Lovers dynamic where the reader is super smart and really good at arguing their points, but I'm curious which Tolkien characters you think would be most into that type of partner 🤔

I can totally picture Eomer falling for a person like that because he honestly seems perfect for Enemies to Lovers arcs, but tldr what Tolkien characters do you think would be most attracted to a super intelligent person who could debate them into the dirt? Thanks!

I have been alone all my life but with the compensations of intellect.

Lord of the rings and The hobbit characters react to an intelligent reader

Warnings: none

Includes: Elrond, Thranduil, Gimli and Éomer

A/n: thank you for your request <3

Content under the cut

Elrond — Friends to lovers

You and Elrond would meet in a fairly formal setting, maybe during a business gathering or a dinner of sorts.

You would be chatting with some high noble who would introduce you to lord Elrond and the two of you clicked immediately.

He would often invite you for tea and insist you stay for dinner, maybe offering you a bed as the hour gets later.

He is knowledgeable about history, lore and the affairs between both men and elves alike, he would likely be drawn to someone he can engage deeply in discussions of middle earths past, present and future.

The debates between you and lord Elrond would be competitive but friendly, if he lost he would shrug it off, the pinnacle of healthy masculinity. If he won, he wouldn’t care, maybe tease you if your friendship started to grow closer but never in a cruel, condescending way.

He would grow feelings slowly yet steadily, he would never force himself on you but he couldn’t deny the flutter of his heart whenever you’d smirk triumphantly as besting him during a debate of which medicine would be best to use for a rope burn, the simple action making his heart warm.

As your relationship turns romantic your playful banter wouldn’t stop, it would only grow, turning into silly debates before bed as you two move in chorus around the bedroom, performing your separate night routines though you’d never allow the room to grow silent as you chat about whatever topic comes to mind.

Overall he’d enjoy having a partner that he could chat away with, it’s rare that he finds someone who equals his intelligence, let alone best it.

Thranduil — Shared traumas

Thranduil would likely already be acquainted with you, after all the king knows everything that happens in his kingdom.

Though he only started to cultivate a relationship with you when you outwitted him in his own throne room, for the first time a millennium the king of the woodland realm was left speechless, you intrigued him, instead of sending you away he invited you to join him in his study.

The debates between you two would be filled with romantic tension, heated discussions would be filled with you leaned so forward your nose would also my be touching his, as you did something that countered his you would pull back, thoughts of how his eyes would dart down to your lips so quick you almost didn’t see it would flood your brain.

He would love discussing battle strategies and such, even better if an elf and you saw the battle for yourself.

Nothing pleases him more than falling back on you when he doubts his leadership skills, after having to listen to courtiers and advisors drone on about their ideas and excuses, he can go to and simply sit across the room as you answer his questions logically, not even looking up from your book.

Your relationship would start to turn romantic when he confided in you about his troubles, his worries for his son, even telling you about the death of his wife.

And who knows, maybe he’ll pull you in for a kiss before you turn in for the night.

Gimli — opposites attract

Gimli would first see you at the court of Elrond, during the forming of the fellowship.

He never thought his heart would lurch from his chest when he saw an elf sitting at lord Elrond side, chin held high and regal.

Not even his admiration for lady Galadriel could compare to the way his heart jumped at the sight of you.

While he’s not typically seen as a debater, Gimli has a strong sense of pride surrounding his culture and way of life, he would be drawn to someone who can engage in conversation about dwarven history and culture with him.

He would hold an immense level of respect for you, often coming to you to double check any technical blueprints or a different perspective if he’s struggling to visualise how something would come together. He would appreciate someone who can offer unbiased opinions not swayed by any existing rivalry between elves and dwarves.

Any debates with him would lively and high spirited,he would engage enthusiastically defending his views with passion and light hearted humour, your discussions could range from history and craftsmanship to the simple differences between elves and dwarves.

He would let out a small “oh!” As you kiss him on the cheek, nodding him a farewell after helping him find scrolls about an ancient smithing technique, his smile turning his eyes into slights as he pumps his fist once you’ve turned your back.

Eomer — Enemies to lovers

Eomer would find your intelligence intriguing and infuriating at the same time.

His warrior ideals and loyalty to Rohan would initially clash with your more logical approach to things, your debates would arise over strategies in battle most likely.

Early on in your relationship, misunderstandings were the main fuel to your bitter relationship. Your critical views on his leadership or warfare would be interpreted as disrespect, driving a wedge between you two.

But as the power of Sauron grows, you’re forced to put your differences aside.

He would begrudgingly admit that you’re actually very useful in a fight, offering new ideas that contrast his own.

However one night as your both sat around the fire, when every other solider has turned in for the night, he might open up, revealing to you his fears about not being a good leader, you in turn offer him insights and philosophical perspectives that resonate with him.

He thinks about the conversation when he nods silently before sauntering off to his tent, laying in bed staring up at the white linen cloth of his tent, the words he forgets as he slowly realises he in-fact wasn’t listening to your words, instead focusing on the curve of your lips and the brush of your eyelashes against your cheeks every time you blinked, the way your eyes gleamed as the fire crackled.

He frowns as the words “oh shit, I’m in love with them” echoed in his inner monologue.

He doesn’t tell you through words rather showing you, right before the rohirrims marched to Gondor he would give you heated kiss, displaying not his passion as a warrior, but as a lover.

[sen-ya]

Sen's Important Info Post

Post last updated 10/29/24

Hey I'm Sen and I draw One Piece too much! I am terrible at keeping things easy to find, turns out when ur job is project management you don’t want to also do it in ur down time. My current theme is following the dopamine, keeping it as fun as it can be for me to draw. Below the cut is information on the different AUs & serializations I've got going on right now :^)

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Thursday - Serialized Comics (current: Family AU//Forgetful)

Universe: Main Timeline

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-important and not important ways. These comics are largely LuLaw but include sprinkles of Heart Pirates (in general and as family), ZoSan, and general shenanigans.

Serializations:

Getting Together - Will they/won't they? They will, but they're gonna be stupid about it. Anything tagged into this series you can assume they haven't established that they're romantically interested in each other.

Established LuLaw - Two idiots in love. Anything tagged with this series you can assume they're together. They may not refer to each other as "boyfriend" or "partner" but whatever it is that's going on is clear to the two of them and that's what matters.

Law Loses - Most comics in this series deal with the aftermath of Winner Island. Law feels like a curse.

Goofs Only - These comics don't require serialization. They're just some good fun. If they include LawLu/LuLaw, they'll also be tagged as either "Getting Together" or "Established" so you have context for their reactions.

The Heart Bros - Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi found each other as kids. Comics in this series act as glimpses into their time growing up and other brotherly interactions. This is noncompliant with the Law novel. Once they form the Heart Pirates, they consider each other brothers.

ZoSan - I don't draw these two a lot anymore, so this series is just a general ZoSan category!

Heart Pirate Shenanigans - I went all in on Heart Pirates Week 2024 and wrote a bunch of comics about the various crew members! Leaving this as an open series for when I inevitably fall down another Heart Pirate rabbit hole.

Universe: Older/Family AU

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-importanComics in this universe take place anywhere from 7 - 30 years post canon. Mostly LuLaw with sprinkles of other shenanigans. You can assume events from the main timeline are canon in this AU.

Serializations:

Accidents Happen - Law gets a cold and stops running a few effects that he'd taken for granted.

Getting Married - Did you know if two pirate captains want to get married, they can just say they're married?

Extras - This series is for posts that offer context/additional information about what's going on in the AU

Family Fluff - These are a series of comics where the focus is on Law and/or Luffy as a parent.

Forgetful - Law gets hit by a devil fruit that makes him forget everything that's happened since just before Marineford.

Get back to it - After spending some time on Zou in Rocy's first 18 months, it's time for Luffy & Law to get back to pirating.

Universe: The Worst Timeline

Comics in this universe branch off of the main timeline around Whole Cake/early Wano. These comics may refer to earlier 'main timeline' events, but what happens in them is so terrible I've refused to make them part of my own personal canon. Sometimes it's just too temping to make them suffer :^)

Serializations:

Rightfully Worried - This series is an AU in which Luffy gets the absolute shit kicked out of him in Whole Cake and when he arrives on Wano Law has to save his life. It's not the first time he's performed surgery on him, but it is the first time he's had to since he's cared so much about his patient.

The Worst Wake-Up Call - During an intense battle, Law makes a decision. The ones who love him deal with the aftermath.

[starwarsanthropology]

Canon genders the clones, both individually and collectively, pretty aggressively. They're men, brothers, boys, sirs. Omega is notable for being the "female" clone, to the point where she's not recognized as a clone in a meaningful way.

But the clones grew up without gendered social groups! Despite how clones are gendered by external factors, gender is functionally a nonentity in their lives until they meet civilians, and civilians do a load of other weird shit anyway.

So why do they still use gendered language?

My argument is that feminine language isn't used as a gendered form of address, but as a form of address that reflects a specific kind of power dynamic and relationship between parties.

Given the structure of the clone army, the only people a vast majority of young clones interact with who could insist on being called ma'am are exclusively kaminoans.

The kaminoans view clones not as autonomous subjects, but as property. They have and expect complete control over their lives and actions. Incidentally, the female kaminoans we see (such as Nala Se) tend to demonstrate an even more proprietary perspectives on the clones.

You can question a sir, like your superiors or trainers, at your discretion, but you can't question a ma'am. A sir is someone who has power over you, but is somewhat responsible for you. The have personal accountability to you in some way. Sirs are responsible for men under them. A ma'am is someone whose power over you is absolute, an authority without accountability, who is not beholden to you but that you must obey. You are tool or a number to a ma'am.

And when you bring clones out into the wider galaxy, I'm not sure anyone would figure it out that quickly.

Say you're a new jedi general. You meet your men, and they address you as "ma'am". Maybe you correct and move on, figuring that they've grown up surrounded by thousands of identical men and aren't great at guessing genders based on social and appearance cues. Scuttlebutt has your forms of address spread through the men by the end of the day, and you don't think about it again.

The clones, on the other hand, take this correction as he/him jedi stating that they want to work with them and suppourt them despite having so much power over them, which fits with both what they know of the jedi and, most often, their leadership style.

She/her jedi (see Shaak Ti especially!), clones maybe treat a little more as absolute authorities. This gendered divide in behavior gets met with, "hm, maybe they're just not used to women." For many jedi, they eventually switch to calling them sir as well, especially as they build rapport.

For Shaak Ti specifically, she is an absolute authority as the representative of the Jedi on Kamino, not just as a figurehead but as a decision maker and educator. Even as the clones grow to trust and love her, she's a relatively distant and all-powered figure. She has near total authority over them, and clones might ask for help or suppourt, but there's no social obligation for those requests to be met, she's just kind. It's compassion, not duty.

Senators, there's a good mix of different factors that make it confusing. "Senator" is always an acceptable form of address if you're not sure how'd they react, even if they should be ma'ams by default, but they're either trying to build rapport for some reason or genuinely want to work with you when they say to call them sir, regardless of the actual power dynamic at play. The she/her senators that respect the clones are in the same boat as Shaak Ti: Padme Amidala may care about clone rights, but I am still just one of hundreds to her and she has no personal accountability to me. Her position is such that she should not and cannot owe me anything. Same with Riyo Chuchi, Mon Mothma, etc. etc.

And a civilian that insists on being called ma'am or sir is going to be an asshole either way, and they technically have power over clones without personal accountability or responsibility for them. It works.

Finally, Palpatine.

He's a slimy rat fuck who pretends to be affable and kind, so of course he's going to laugh and say, "Oh, no, call me Sir!" when you call him ma'am. He is not personally accountable to you, and he does not care about you, but it helps his image and it helps him manipulate people to pretend, so of course he's making you use sir to build false intimacy despite the fact that he's the ma'am of ma'ams, both in power gaps and lack of accountability for his treatment of clones.

So having clones using sir vs ma'am not as a reflection of gender but as a reflection of power? Yeah, I think it works.