#despite having every reason not to trust it

[sunnysideaeggs]

while i would love a point of view of lucy gray for many reasons, this would only work if lucy gray was the seductress, liar and manipulator coriolanus makes her out to be. so, basically proving him right and making the story about ‘oh a maneater and a manslaughter haha’. lucy gray was all about her choosing to see the best of the world despite all the hardships handed to her, she would naturally trust and grow to love the facade of dashing knight coriolanus tried so hard to maintain, especially when he’s the only one she can rely on during the worst days of her life. because he’s the liar, he’s the manipulator, he’s the one that used lucy gray to get back the life he believed he was entitled to.

and lucy gray didn’t take lightly all the things he gradually revealed to her to build up her trust, from the first time they met he came with gifts (the rose that was probably her first bite in days) and personal talks, he fed her, counseled her and gave her a compact that she had to be wrestled and restrained for because she knew of the sentimental value it had for him (does that look like a performance?). from her point of view, he did everything he could to save her, getting himself in trouble for her just because he cared for her (she had no idea that coriolanus was in for a big prize and scholarship! she thought he was doing it because he was good).

and even if lucy gray is a performer, and she had to rely on guile, charms (and it’s implied that her body too), it doesn’t mean that she is out there manipulating everyone for fun. she shows with her actions how she chooses kindness at every turn, saving coryo’s life is no ‘oh a little charm hehe’, but a proof of what she’s at her core. she writes a ballad for him, literally including him in a family tradition, which is no small feat either (i have tried to write songs, it takes its time), if she was shallow in her affections she could’ve just said ‘oh i love you, you’re so sweet’ and not put out bangers with his name, talk about her trauma and family and explain her feelings about love and trust to him because she trusts him and this is very important.

snow tried really hard to get her to trust him, because he wanted her to put on a show for his benefit. while he thinks that she showing vulnerability and trust is her putting on a facade in a personal setting (he literally says so), she was being completely honest and thought he was too. snow wants lucy gray to be a liar so bad because he can’t bear that he’s the liar, he’s the snake that can only point the fingers at others to hide his dishonesty. lucy gray in contrast couldn’t help to see everyone like she was too, a kind person with compassion, freedom and integrity.

Thinking about tbosas from the other perspective is so funny to me because imagine you’re Lucy Gray and the way you make a living is by singing and being a charming, charismatic performer. The people in your district love you, you have a nice family, sure your parents are dead but things aren’t so bad.

Then you get Reaped because your boyfriend cheated on you - so now you have to fight for your life in an arena.

When you get to the Capitol you’re met by a guy around your age who says his job is to take care of you in the arena, so you figure you should probably use some of those charms you live by on him so you have a better chance at survival. So you flirt with him a little, save his life etc. It works! He helps you! Now you’ve won the Hunger Games! You get to go home and see your family! Thank you random Capitol guy for your help, bye bye now.

And then you’re singing on stage, with your family who you literally killed people to see again, thrilled to be alive and this fuckin Capitol guy has followed you home.

Oh and also he’s a peacekeeper now so is legally allowed a gun.

And now he kind of won’t leave you alone - the charm worked too well and he’s obsessed with you. Brilliant. But you’re a survivor. So you let him get closer, just enough to feel safe. And as you get to know him better, maybe you’re thinking, hey this guy isn’t so bad, he’s kind of cute with his buzzcut and he seems to really like you, maybe this could be something. Also it might be useful to have a peacekeeper on side - everything in your district is about survival.

Things are going well, you write a song about him, he cries, your little cousin loves him.

And then he murders someone in front of you and you’re like oh shit he crazy. And THEN you realise that because of the person he murdered, the mayor is now out for your blood and you’re probably gonna die so you have to get out of there ASAP so you say bye to this guy and he INVITES HIMSELF TO YOUR ESCAPE PLAN and you have to be like “oh sure, that’s super news, would absolutely love to have you along with me, I’m so glad you asked.” So now you’re stuck with him again.

And THEN you’re in the middle of escaping and he fuckin tells you he’s murdered an extra person you didn’t know about and when you ask him who, he says his old self and now you’re thinking oh shit he CRAZY crazy. And THEN he finds the gun he used and you realise that if he destroys that evidence then you’re the only loose end and he has a kind of crazy look in his eye so you’re like, okay time to nip this in the bud, I’m outta here gotta go pick some katniss. So you run away from him and THEN he follows you again and fuckin shoots at you so you run FASTER and now you’ve disappeared and no one will ever find out what happened to you which drives him absolutely crazy for 60+ years.

Oh and also they’re going to erase all footage of your Games so no one will remember you and he’s going to become a tyrannical dictator who has personal beef with three different sixteen year olds from your district over the years, all because you hurt his feelings one time.

[inkedinshadows]

The Greatest Gift

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Being introduced to a partner's family is always nerve-wracking, especially when Azriel has never talked much about his mother and you don't know what to expect.

Warnings: pregnant reader, barely edited, maybe rushed ending?

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: so sorry for being late in posting this one! Literally wrote the last part today and edited quite quickly so I could post it. Hope you'll enjoy it anyway!

Main Masterlist | Week Masterlist | Azriel Masterlist | AO3

@sjmxreaderweek

“Stop fussing. You look lovely.”

You looked at your reflection in the mirror for the hundredth time and frowned. You could see why Az thought that, but there was still something that felt… off. You just couldn't put your finger on what it was.

“Something's missing,” you murmured to yourself, smoothing out non-existent creases on your dress. You had picked your most beautiful one—a nice summer dress that flowed to your feet and hugged your body perfectly. Just tight enough to reveal the small bump that was beginning to show.

Your hair was styled in a low bun at the nape of your neck—classy and delicate, but not too formal. You didn't want to come off as too concerned with appearances. For that same reason, you had kept your makeup minimal and natural.

Maybe that was it. Maybe you should have done more. It wasn’t too late, you could still—

“Y/N.”

Azriel came up behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “There's no need to be so nervous, my love.”

Your eyes met in the mirror, but, unlike every other time, his soft smile did little to calm you.

“I just don't want to make a bad first impression,” you murmured. You tasted blood on your tongue and realized you were chewing on your inner cheek again. You stopped immediately.

“And you won't.” His hands came to rest on your hips as you both looked at the reflection. “Look at you. You're gorgeous, Y/N.”

You were beautiful—you could admit that much. But you didn't feel perfect, and that's what you were aiming for.

Turning around to face Azriel, you placed your hands on his broad chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your palms. He had also dressed up nicely, and you knew he had done it for you, to help you feel more at ease. He didn't have to, after all. It was his mother you were about to have lunch with. He didn't have to impress anyone.

“I don't want to disappoint her.” You looked into the depths of those beautiful hazel eyes. “She's your mom.”

“And you're my mate, who's also pregnant with my child,” he answered, his hands now resting on your belly. “You have nothing to worry about. She's going to love you. Trust me.”

Hearing the certainty in his voice, you finally relaxed. You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against his, breathing in his familiar scent.

Despite having been mated for a few years—and all the decades of friendship first and being in love later—you had never met Rosalind. Every time he visited her, after Winter Solstice and for both their birthdays, you never accompanied him. He had never asked you to, and you had never pushed him about it. You knew how he felt about his mother, how he wanted to keep her sheltered from a cruel world that had already taken so much from her.

She's a kind soul, he always said. You didn't doubt it.

That's why you had been so surprised when he had come home after his last visit and told you he would like you to meet his mother.

And here you were now.

Azriel kissed your forehead before pulling back. “You're ready to go, baby?”

You nodded, turning to take one last look in the mirror. And that's when you realized what was missing.

“Wait! Hold on…” You opened the top drawer of the dresser and rummaged through it until you found what you were looking for. “Aha!” you exclaimed triumphantly, holding a little necklace between your fingers.

The jewelry itself wasn't anything special—a thin chain with a small star-shaped pendant—but it held a symbolic meaning: it was one of the first gifts you had ever received from Azriel, back when you were nothing more than friends, and every time you wore it, things went well. It might be just superstition, but it quickly became your good luck charm. That's why it was reserved for special occasions such as this one.

“Your lucky necklace?” Azriel took it as you offered it and stepped behind you to put it around your neck. “I thought we were meeting my mother, not going on some kind of adventure.”

You whirled, worried that your nervousness was starting to annoy him. Instead you found him with an amused smile on his lips, looking down at you with a softness that made your heart flutter.

“Y/N, my love.” He cupped your cheeks, his voice low and gentle. “All that matters to me is that you're comfortable. We can reschedule, if you want.”

You shook your head and a small smile appeared on your face. “No,” you said firmly. “I want to meet her. I'm just a bit nervous.”

When he arched a brow, you chuckled. “Okay, maybe more than a bit.”

Azriel leaned in to brush a kiss across your lips. “I know. But I can already tell you she's going to adore you. Trust me. Everyone does.”

Your smile grew, and with one last look at your reflection, you finally stepped back. “Alright. I just need to grab the pastries and we can go.”

~~~~~~

Azriel winnowed you to the outskirts of a little village. Though the street was quiet, peppered only by a few houses, you could hear children laughing and screaming playfully in the distance.

The manor in front of you—Rosehall, Azriel had called it—was smaller than anticipated, with colorful flowers in every window.

You smiled at the sight and let Azriel guide you to the red-painted door.

When he didn't knock, you looked up at him and found his eyes already on you.

“What?” you asked, brows furrowed.

“You're doing it again.” His hand came up to cup your face. “Stop biting your cheek, love. It'll bleed.”

“I didn't even realize I was— sorry.” With a sigh, you cleared your mind of the nervousness that was starting to rise again. Then you gestured toward the door. “Shall we?”

Azriel nodded, and his hand fell away from your cheek to knock on the red wood. It took only a few seconds for the door to open, revealing a smiling Illyrian female.

Her hair was the same black as her son's, just like her hazel eyes—both common Illyrians traits. But you knew Azriel's face well enough to notice they shared the shape of the nose, the curve of the mouth, the slightly upward tilt of the eyes. He wasn't the spitting image of her, but no one could have mistaken them for anything other than mother and son.

“Oh, my boy! It's so nice to see you again so soon!” Rosalind hugged her son, who could embrace her with only one arm, the other one holding the wicker basket with home-baked pastries.

“Hi, mom,” he replied, his tone as soft as the one he usually reserved for you. She smiled as he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of her head. She was several inches shorter than him, just like you.

Rosalind then turned to face you, and a second later her arms were around you. “It's such a pleasure to finally meet you.”

You were so stunned by the sudden display of affection that it took you a moment to return the gesture, and another one to find the words. “The pleasure is all mine.”

When you pulled back, Rosalind’s smile was even brighter than before, and it was enough to make you forget any semblance of anxiety.

“Come in. Come, dears,” she said, stepping aside. “Come inside. Let me take a good look at you, Y/N.”

Azriel placed a gentle hand on your lower back to set you walking, and as you passed by his mother, you caught a glimpse of the wings Rosalind kept tucked behind her back. Twin long scars ran down both of them—clipped. A wave of horror coiled in your gut, and you had to swallow to keep your composure.

“Are you alright?” Azriel whispered close to your ear. Ever the observant mate.

You gave him a nod, then quickly took the basket from him just to have something else to occupy your mind. When his mother closed the door and guided you to the sitting room, you offered it to her with a smile. “I made these for you, since it was your birthday last week. It's pastries.”

Rosalind took it, lifting the lid to peek at what was inside. Her eyes gleamed as she looked up again, a bright smile on her lips. “You're too sweet, darling. You didn't have to. Thank you.”

Despite having just met her, you could already see why Azriel always said she was a kind soul. If Rosalind had been your mother, you would want to protect her from such a world too.

The Illyrian female handed the basket to her son, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and if he could please start setting the table. Azriel brushed a kiss to your hair, then disappeared down the hallway.

His mother turned to you again.

“Oh, Azriel said you were beautiful, but…” Her hands hovered over your baby bump, but she didn't touch it. “You're glowing, Y/N.”

You smiled back at her. “Thank you. Az never told me much about you… I'm glad I finally met you.”

Rosalind shook her head. “Of course he didn't,” she said with a soft laugh. “He thinks even talking about me will put me in danger.”

You couldn't help but chuckle with her. You were very aware of Azriel's overprotectiveness. It had only grown since you got pregnant.

“It's because he loves you,” you offered gently.

“Oh, I never doubted that.” Rosalind gestured for you to sit on the plush couch, then followed to settle beside you.

The sitting room was large and inviting, with sand-colored rugs layered across the wooden floor and shelves filled with old books and trinkets. Only a few paintings hung on the wall, and your gaze lingered on them as you leaned back against the deep red cushions of the couch.

“But I think he loves you more.”

You turned to look at Rosalind, opening your mouth to protest that she couldn't compare the two things. But she leaned in as if to reveal a secret, a smile playing on her lips.

“He always talks about you,” she murmured.

Your lips curled. “He does?”

Rosalind nodded. “Oh, yes. He can go on for hours about you.”

Your eyes darted to the hallway, at the end of which you'd caught a glimpse of the dining room as Azriel had walked away to follow his mother's instructions. Now you could hear the faint rustle of dishes being arranged on the table.

“He'd done it since he met you, you know,” his mother went on. “The first time he told me about you, he said you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. And that you were so nice and sweet, he hoped you'd fall in love with him one day.”

Your smile grew. Azriel, usually so reserved and quiet, had been talking to his mother about you since the beginning. That shouldn't have surprised you—you'd always been close, after all—but the things he'd told her… You never thought he'd so open about it from the very start, even with his own mother. Maybe you'd just assumed that since he didn't talk to you about her, he wouldn't talk to her about you.

As if on cue, Azriel appeared in the doorway. “The table's ready,” he announced.bhh

His eyes darted between you and his mother, and he arched a brow when twin complicit smiles bloomed on your faces.

Rosalind rose to her feet, wings shifting awkwardly behind her. “Well, I should go check on the food,” she announced. “It's probably ready, or it’ll be soon. So you can start getting comfortable at the table.”

On her way out, she placed a hand on Azriel's arm. “Thank you, dear,” she said with a smile before continuing down the hallway.

Azriel watched her go, then turned to you with a questioning look in his hazel eyes. “Did I miss something?”

Walking up to him, you tried to suppress your smile but failed. Biting your lip was the only way. “Did you really spend hours telling your mom about me?”

He stilled, and you noticed the tips of his ears turning a faint shade of red. For a moment, he didn't meet your eyes.

“She told you about that, I see.”

Mother above, he was adorable when he got flustered.

“She did,” you grinned, leaving the room with him following close behind. You glanced at him over your shoulder. “She also said you hoped I'd fall in love with you from the very beginning.”

Azriel's ears were now completely flushed. But his lips quirked up at the corners as he said, “Of course I did. You were perfect.”

You reached the dining room—smaller than the sitting room, yet just as cozy. Cushioned chairs suited for Illyrians surrounded the table, and sunlight poured in through a large window.

But before you could turn to face Azriel and answer, his arms were already around you, pulling you back against his chest.

“I was perfect?” you repeated as you turned your head back to smile at him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, brushing his lips against yours. “You always have been.”

His broad hands slid down to rest on your small bump.

“And now you're even more perfect,” he murmured.

You finally turned around in his arms and looped yours around his neck. “That's also thanks to you, you know,” you replied with a smile.

His hands found your hips and he pulled you flush against him. "Some days I have to remind myself that,” he admitted quietly. “That there’s a wonderful new life inside of you. And I helped create it.”

He didn’t have to say more. You knew why he needed the reminder—that someone like him could create something so beautiful. After everything he had been through and he had done, he had convinced himself he would never be good enough to create such a miracle. And now he was being proven wrong.

“You did,” you replied, nails gently scratching the nape of his neck. “And this wonderful life will become a wonderful baby. Our baby. And you will be a wonderful father.”

His eyes locked with yours, and slowly, another smile appeared on his face. “Our baby,” he repeated.

Then leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss—a silent thanks you, a testament to the love you shared. And even after you broke apart, the feel of his lips on yours lingered like the last warmth of the sun before it sets.

The delicious smell of roasted lamb pervaded the room, and followed by the quiet rustle of dishes and pans that announced Rosalind's entrance.

She glanced at the two of you still standing there, a warm smile curving her lips as she placed the serving plate in the center of the table, where Azriel had left space for it.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you took a small step back from him.

Even after your chat with Rosalind, being caught kissing her son felt oddly awkward. You weren't quite sure why—you were mated to him and pregnant with his child, after all. And Rosalind didn’t even seem bothered by it.

She gestured toward the table and the chairs. “Come sit, dears,” she encouraged. “We don’t want it to get cold, now do we?”

Azriel placed a hand on your lower back and gently guided you to a chair, pulling it out for you. As you sat, he leaned down to murmur in your ear, “Your cheek, my love.”

He was already moving to sit next to you before you even glanced at him.

You offered him a grateful smile, then helped Rosalind serve the food, realizing only then what she had cooked.

Roasted lamb. Baked potatoes. The same blend of herbs you always used—flavors that bloomed across your tongue at the first bite.

“This is delicious,” you said, smiling. “And it's one of my favorites, too.” With a look toward Azriel, you added, “What a nice coincidence.”

“Yes,” he replied, far too casually. “A lucky coincidence.”

His mother chuckled and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“I wanted to make a good impression,” Rosalind explained. “It's not every day I get to meet my son's mate.”

At least you weren't the only one who'd been worried about first impressions.

You turned back to her with a smile. “It's not every day I get to my mate's mother,” you replied. You nodded toward the basket of pastries you'd made, now waiting on the sideboard, ready for dessert. “I asked him too, for the pastries. I wanted to get you a real present, but.. I've never been very good with gifts.”

Azriel had told you not to worry, that you could show up empty-handed and his mom wouldn't mind. But it hadn't felt like enough, yet you always struggled to find the right gift for your friends, so how were you supposed to pick one for your mate’s mother? So you'd asked him what she liked best and baked it yourself.

Rosalind slowly set her fork down and reached across the table to take your hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Don't worry, dear. I have everything I need here.” Her smile was soft, reassuring. “And you've already given me the greatest gift I could ask for.”

At your confused frown, she gave your hand another squeeze. “You make my son happy,” she explained. “It's all I ever wanted.”

Your heart swelled at her words. “Don't worry,” you assured her. “That's all I want too.”

Your gaze drifted to Azriel. His eyes were already on you, love shining in their hazel depths. Beneath the table, his hand came to rest on your knee.

“I told you both you’d like each other,” he said softly, glancing between you and his mother. “You were both nervous for nothing.”

Picking up your fork again, you replied, “That's because you never introduced us before, Az.”

He looked like he was about to protest, but then he sighed instead. “Yes, that's fair,” he conceded. “Maybe I should have.”

“Oh, it's alright,” Rosalind chimed in. “We're all here now and that's what matters.”

You nodded, and while you and Azriel returned to your delicious meal, Rosalind fell silent, a thoughtful expression replacing the smile she often wore.

After a moment, she spoke again.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, looking first at her son, then at you. “A favor, if it’s not too much trouble.”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yes, of course.”

Azriel looked curious now, though he remained silent. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to ask anything, either.

Rosalind hesitated for a second before continuing. “When the baby arrives… could you visit me more often?” She paused, then quickly added, “Or maybe I could visit you? But I’d like to be a part of the baby's life and watch them grow.”

You blinked, stunned by the suddenness of the request. Of course you wanted her to be involved, to know her grandchild and be part of this growing family.

But the emotion behind her words caught you off guard, stealing whatever answer you might’ve given.

Before you could find your voice, Rosalind turned to Azriel.

A new vulnerability shone her eyes—his eyes. A mix of sadness and tenderness in equal parts, as though she were remembering something from their past.

“I didn't get to be the mother you needed when it mattered most,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. Still, she went on. “So let me try to make it up by being the grandmother your child deserves.”

All you could do was watch, your heart straining, as Azriel’s throat bobbed once.

“You were—” He stopped, shook his head, then tried again. “You are the best mother I could ask for, mom.”

They shared a heartfelt smile, and for a moment, you felt like an intruder on a private, sacred moment.

“Of course we can visit more often,” he said gently. “Or you can finally come to Velaris, if you'd prefer. Rhys and Cassian would be happy to see you again.”

Rosalind's eyes lit up, her smile blooming bright. A mother, happy to reunite with her son's world. With his chosen family, and the new life he was building.

You watched her, and wondered—would you wear that same expression when your baby arrived? That same fierce, unwavering love that would never make your child doubt they were wanted and adored.

You hoped you did.

You knew you would.

Azriel already had that look. He'd had it since the moment you told him you were pregnant.

“I'd love to see them again,” Rosalind said. “It's been too many centuries. And maybe…” She chuckled softly, “it's about time I visited Velaris.”

A flicker of uncertainty sparkled in Azriel's eyes, as if he still wasn't sure his mother should be exposed to the potential dangers of the world, even in a city as safe as Velaris. But it was there and gone in a heartbeat, so fast you might have missed it if you didn't know him so well.

Rosalind didn't seem to notice, though, and the conversation flowed easily from there. She asked you many questions—about your childhood, your passions, your job—eager to know you as you were, and not just through Azriel's stories.

You got to know her just as well, and during the few hours you spent together, a connection began to take shape. Quiet and natural, it settled between you like it had always been meant to grow there. You wondered why you’d even been nervous in the first place.

Maybe it was because of your lucky necklace.

When you and Azriel finally left, just before dinner, Rosalind made you promise to return the following week—and to start planning her visit to Velaris.

*lovely divider by @slytherin-pen

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd @lreadsstuff @littlest-w01f

[bachshot]

Danger Zone

request: so happy to hear ava was your fav thunderbolt she was mine too!! Would you be willing to write a oneshot about fem reader who also heard about Valentina’s plan and came to save Ava, meeting John and Yelena a little before Alexei.

Ava Starr x Fem!Reader no warnings apply

thunderbolts spoilers ahead... kinda want to do a part two later on in the movie with some more fluffy y/n and ava moments + interaction with the other thunderbolts, lmk what you think!!

Y/N never trusted Valentina, what was happening right now was only more timber for the fire in the list of reasons why she really needed to quit her job. For the past few months she had been working as her personal security guard, something Ava wasn't exactly overjoyed to learn but the pay was cushy and so far Valentina didn't seem to suspect their relationship. Or if she did she hadn't said anything, whether that was better or worse they were unsure.

That being said the jobs Y/N was given were nowhere near the level of Ava's, instead being stuck accompanying Valentina to events and looking overall intimidating, so when it came time for Valentina to clean her hands of evidence it was unsurprising that Y/N didn't make the list.

But as she raced up this stupid hill to the facility atop of it she had one thought on her mind, 'i really need to quit this job', if Valentina’s awful attitude wasn't enough then trying to kill her girlfriend certainly was. Mel had spilled the secret plan to Y/N, a guilt filled moment of clarity where the words came out hard and fast unaware of Y/N's connection to Ava, but the subsequent words fell on deaf ears as the blood rushed to Y/N's head as all she could think about was Ava. It had been easy to convince Mel to help her, she always seemed to be teetering on the fence of supporting Valentina so all she seemed to need was a push, the girl managing to give Y/N top level access to scan into the building Ava was sent to but other than that it was all in Y/N's hands, any more meddling from Mel would quickly be spotted and stopped by Valentina. As much as she thought of Valentina and her assistant as one in the same, here Y/N had to reconsider her biases... But maybe not right at this second. The facility quickly comes into view as Y/N reaches the top of the hill, opening the door with the building's biometric system and groaning quietly to herself as it opens only to reveal more doors. She couldn’t help but feel she didn’t have time for this, knowing the incinerator Ava had been led into would activate any moment.

Luckily the feeling was short lived as Ava phased through one of the doors with a panicked look on her face, jaw dropping once she spotted Y/N their speech overlapping in a frantic exclamation of “you’re here!” and “what are you doing here?!”

Y/N shakes her head grabbing Ava’s arms, giving her a slight shake, “Valentina set you up! I came here to get you,” she explains, eyes scanning over Ava to check her over for any injuries, easily distracted and unable to hold back rambling a little despite the urgency of the current situation, “God, you look so good in that new suit by the way, but we need to get out of here, i dont know when the others are getting here but—“

Ava cuts her off with a chuckle, endeared by Y/N’s ability to give out a compliment alongside attempting to save her life (even if she’s definitely seen Ava’s new suit before and has told her that every time she’s seen her in it),

“they’re already here,” Ava informs her, glancing back to the door she just phased through, “and we just figured out Valentina’s plan…” she adds with some reluctance not wanting to diminish Y/N’s efforts. It’s then that Ava’s face drops from the tender smile she always had plastered on in Y/N’s presence, replaced by an expression of realisation as she cursed under her breath suddenly breaking from Y/N’s hold to turn to the lock pad next to the door. Y/N raises a brow as Ava presses the buttons, letting out a frustrated growl as she’s met with a harsh ‘access denied’, given Ava’s history Y/N felt kind of proud that she had managed to work with the others she was set up against. Ava wasn’t quick to trust with her past, and while Y/N understood the trust was probably fleeting and completely situational, something about seeing her working with others made her chest swell regardless. She made a note to tell her as such later.

“Let me try,” Y/N offers, arm brushing against Ava’s as she moves to stand next to her, assuming Ava’s access was removed the moment she had entered to stop her from being able to escape, but Y/N’s should still be in full effect thanks to Mel. The door opens, revealing the others inside who look almost surprised to see they had actually been freed, and Ava’s arm nudges Y/N’s in a silent form of appreciation however the moment is fleeting as flames begin to descend in the opened up room causing an explosion that continued on into the room they currently stood in.

By all means Ava could temporarily phase to avoid the blow but instead Y/N feels Ava’s hands on her chest as she pushes her to the ground bodies pressed together to stay low as the explosion blew over them, Ava's body blocking most of the blow from Y/N in a protective hold. It didn’t take long for it to end, Ava pushing herself up still straddling Y/N and looking down at her with a concerned look as she made sure she was okay… Y/N couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t mind this position in another setting, and maybe she subconsciously leaned forward at first seeing Ava’s face hovering above hers but could you really blame her? Aware however that it was not the time for that she didn’t allow her mind to wander further, stopping herself before she and Ava actually kissed but not before Ava had noticed.

“…Hey,” Y/N breathes out, a ringing in her ears and a dull aching in her head as she definitely hit it on the floor going down (and may or may not be a little concussed), causing Ava to shake her head in amusement as she pulls herself up from the ground and offers Y/N a hand.

“Hey yourself,” she replies smoothly, a teasing tone on her tongue egged on by Y/N’s antics, it looks like she’s about to say something else as her mouth opens again only to be interrupted by a gruffer voice to the right of the two. Y/N doesn’t really catch what’s being said, the ringing from the loud explosion still persisting in her ears but she can tell it’s something along the lines of ‘who the fuck are you’ causing both her and Ava to quickly whip their heads round looking towards a man in some kind of captain america-esque costume, Ava's stance hardening as she side stepped in front of Y/N to block her from the mans view. It was then Y/N remembered her and Ava weren’t alone, noticing a shorter blonde woman and another man with darker hair on the other side of the room slowly getting up, clearly just recovering from being blown away when the explosion had gone off. With such an interesting combination of people she would definitely be asking Ava for more details later, and knew absolutely no insults towards the other mercenaries would be spared, but for now as she felt Ava's hand protectively reach for hers and give it a thankful squeeze she was glad she had come here— even if it seemed Ava had already been capable of saving herself.

[sneakyfriday]

In weakness and in strength

I want to be your weakness, your strength, your everything. Because… you are my every reason to live and to love.

Caleb x You. Based on this illusio

“Hi, the Colonel has already left the office earlier afternoon.”

You were sure Caleb was actively avoiding you at this point. It was past midnight and you looked everywhere. He couldn’t have predicted that you would be running around looking for him and hid away in some secret base, right?

“Thanks Liam. Do you happen to know where he was heading to?”

You felt a pang of sadness across your chest as you tried to hold back the frustration from showing in your tired eyes. You just couldn’t seem to reach him and it was driving you insane.

***

Was he angry?

You swore you didn’t mean to raise your voice last night. It was humiliating to be treated like you were some fragile damsel in distress, unable to protect yourself. For god’s sake, you were one of the best hunters in Linkon City. Couldn’t he trust you, just a little bit?

Was he tired?

You noticed beads of sweat rolling down his temples when he ran towards you. His breathing was hushed, uniform crooked and hair unkempt. Your name escaped his lips like a trembling whisper, his knuckles white as he gripped your shoulders with a force greater than gravity itself.

You were standing alone at an unknown intersection after midnight. In fact, you had been there for the last 20 minutes, trying to use the stars as navigation, your dead phone as useful as a brick. You had to admit, Skyhaven was a little eery at night. It was as if the city was under some sort of evil spell and everyone fell into a deep slumber the moment the midnight clock striked. There was no sign of any living creatures, no movement, no usual Linkon City’s hustle and bustle. Just empty buildings. Just wind rustling the leaves. Just pending thunderstorm clouds in the distance. You were not scared, just a little, well, concerned — you thought. Astraphobia and being lost in a foreign city, whatever. Worst case scenario, someone would definitely find you fainting on the street tomorrow and bring you to the hospital anyway.

Was he sick of, well, you?

“If this is your definition of being able to take care of yourself, I have nothing to say.”

Caleb’s words were gentle, yet his gaze was razor sharp. All you could do was freezing like a deer caught in headlights, words struggled to escape your lips.

You were no longer a kid, and yet, you always found yourself feeling like one in front of Caleb . Always helpless, always in trouble.

“Wait, how did you find out where I was? Did you… put a tracking device on me again?”

You held your fists tight as the realisation stabbed your gut like a sharp knife. Did he not trust you that much? To put surveillance on you despite promising not to do so again?

Fighting back the tears that threatened to fall, you stared straight back into those indiscernible violet eyes. What was that you saw? Disappointment? Anger? Regret? At you? At himself?

“I would rather you be mad at me than having to look at your lifeless body.”

After a long deafening silence that felt like forever, Caleb finally spoke. His hands moved to cup your face, fingers gently caressing your cheeks.

How could he? Yes, you had to admit that you were in a bit of a situation, but that was nothing you could not handle on your own.

You were strong enough. You had to be strong enough. Not just that, you had to be strong without him. Because you knew all too well what it meant to live in the world without Caleb. To have the only one you love and care about suddenly gone one day, leaving you broken and torn apart all alone. You learned to pick up your own broken pieces and you would not be able to do that if you start depending on him again.

In fact, you wanted to be independent from him so bad that you couldn’t afford to show him any weaknesses. Only then you could be free from the tantalising, slow consuming trap that threatened the wall you meticulously built from tears.

“I would rather you not look at me at all. Caleb, why are you so afraid?”

***

“I’m not too sure. Sorry.”

Liam’s stone cold reply cut through your chain of thoughts and pulled you back to reality. You checked your phone again for the 100th time since morning.

“I’m sorry gege”

“Let’s talk”

“I couldn’t reach you :( Where are you?”

Message cold, unopened. Missed calls unreturned.

Caleb was not the kind to give you the silent treatment no matter how upset he was. He would always be the one to apologise first even if it was not his fault, or make it up to you with small gestures despite your stubbornness.

Caleb had always been forgiving, always available, always reassuring. He was gentle, yet overwhelmingly enveloping.

It was painfully obvious that once again, you already couldn’t go on without his constant presence.

Your mind went straight to the worst case scenarios. Maybe someone kidnapped Caleb? A ruthless wanderer attacked him? Or could he had run into an accident along the way?

Your stomach churned with worries. What if…fate decided to separate the two of you once more?

What an irony. Was this how he felt last night?

*Ding*

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it :)”

“Sorry I missed your calls, was busy at the fleet’s office ><“

“Go to sleep, don’t wait for me”

Liar. You are hiding from me.

***

“Please, just…let me in. Let me take care of you when you are weak.”

You found yourself standing outside his door, feeling helpless to the point of frustration. The cup of hot water in your hand had long turned cold.

You were tossing on the bed when you heard the familiar footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor and the main gate creaking open. You were staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open, when you noticed his heavy breathing and stifled cough. You were knocking on his bedroom door, concerned and impatient, when he tried to drive you away with a hoarse, tired voice.

All of a sudden, the door unlocked softly. You put down the medicines and water on the table before walking towards him, who was sitting on the bed, with his back resting against the headrest.

“Come here.”

Caleb reached out to grab your hand and gently pull you onto his lap. He did not even have the strength to change after he got back. Through the thick fabric of his uniform, you felt the heat radiating from his skin.

“How can I have any weakness if I want you to depend on me? I… need to protect you.”

Caleb squeezed your hand tightly as he rest them against his chest. It was as if he was afraid that you would slip through his fingers the moment he let go of your hand. His gaze was fixed on you, memorising your every movement and emotion.

You were his anchor, his direction, his home. It was natural that he wanted to shield and protect the single most important person in his life and his reason to live. Unbeknownst to you, his obsession with protecting you was what gave him the strength to return from death.

His other hand gently traced along your cheeks. The bright moon casted a soft light on your face, illuminating your skin to an ethereal glow. Gosh, you were so painfully beautiful.

You were the treasure that he desperately wanted to protect and hide away from all evils.

Caleb knew you were capable of taking care of yourself. He had seen your growth and even celebrated your achievements together. But he could never tell you, the overzealous need to protect you was more for his sake than yours. The identity of a protector was his life purpose. And an excuse for all his messy feelings.

He wanted to bring you to a place with only the two of you. He wanted you to entrust yourself fully to him. He wanted to monopolise you. Because that was the only way he can truly protect you, right? Because he was your gege? Because of his duty? Or because of love?

Funny how he could control gravity, yet unable to stop being helplessly revolved around you. His sun.

“But I don’t want to just depend on you, I want to stand beside you. I want you to depend on me too.”

You pouted. You realised that you were both idiots. He was overprotective, and you were stubborn.

While your resistance to relying on him came from a place of self-protection, it might already be too late.

You could no longer live without him.

The moment he came back into your life after that fateful incident, all your heartbreak training and personal walls proved to be useless. He easily broke down your resolve and you crawled straight back to his arms like you were meant to be.

Caleb did not reply you. His one hand still gripped yours tightly while resting them on his chest, the other had now moved to hug your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His gaze left yours to drift downwards, stopping right at your lips.

His eyes turned hazy, hungry almost. Caleb found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything but your pouty, pink, insanely kissable lips. His weakened body was now eating away his usual self-control.

He finally spoke, voice barely a whisper. He was too sick and tired to hide his truthful feelings from you.

“You asked me why I am so afraid. You asked to see my weakness.

How can I not be afraid, if my weakness is right here. She’s my everything.”

Something tugged on your heartstrings at his sudden confession.

“I don’t want your protection, as your little sister. I want to stand beside you, you know, …as a woman”

You closed the remaining distance between the two of you by leaning your chest against his.

Caleb jumped slightly, surprised, his breathing quickened and heartbeats grew more erratic by the seconds. You reached up to run your hands through his hair, absent-mindedly playing with his locks before gently stroking the back of his head. You planted your face at the crook of Caleb’s neck, steady breaths playfully caressed his skin.

He was warm. He was so comforting. He smelled like summer, fresh showers and refreshing apples. You nuzzled deeper into his neck, hoping to get more of his scent. You missed him even when you are next to him.

“Someone dared to ignore me for the whole day. Say, maybe… it’s my turn to put a tracking device on you”

With eyes full of mirth, you looked up and flashed him the most mischievous smile. To your surprise, you were met with an unfamiliar burning gaze that caused chills to run down your spine and your heart beating frantically in your chest.

“I like that. A lot.” — his voice dangerously low, almost dripping like honey.

You felt the blush slowly creeped up your neck to the tips of your ears. Embarrassed all of a sudden, you tried to back away from his embrace, only for Caleb to gripped onto your waist tighter, refusing to let any distance come between you.

He lowered his head and planted gentle kisses all over your temple. Hot breaths tickled your face and you became so conscious of the atmosphere, his quickened heart, his wandering hand moving from your waist up to trace the curve of your breast and the growing bulge that were touching your thigh. Soft moans escaped his lips as he nibbled on your now scarlet ear, hips pushed against your torso in a sensual rhythm. His touch started out soft and gentle, yet they slowly grew more impatient and passionate.

You felt hot. You became lightheaded. Maybe you were falling sick.

Silly, blissfully underestimated the effect you had on him. Caleb wanted nothing more than to make you his right at that moment.

You were impossible and intoxicating. You had occupied his every thought and imprisoned his heart. Now that he knew you shared, even if just a fraction of his feelings, he was beyond ecstasy. He desired to touch you more, harder, deeper, to drown in you and to mark you with his scent.

Maybe next time. Would not want to scare you away just yet.

He had waited for so long and he would not mind waiting for a little longer.

***

Self note: If illusio ever comes back I will put the Colonel in every single memory. Also felt a little detached writing this idk, like hey its not me im not the main character im just a messenger.

[filmnoirsbian]

Because you said you like being a hater and I think being a hater is mean. Why direct your emotions towards hate when you can just talk about the things you love instead and have the things you hate occupy zero brainspace? That’s a better insult I think, but nobody gets hurt by it. Win-win! Also, when I say “bad”, I don’t mean morally bad. I mean technically “bad”. If something has a “weak” story or “bad” art (1/2)

But doesn’t perpetuate any bad ‘isms or phobias (racism, homophobia, ableism, transphobia, etc.) then it shouldn’t be considered “bad” art, just art that maybe isn’t one’s cup of tea! That’s all you need to say. “Oh, not my cup of tea, thank you :)” and nobody gets hurt! But the ones that DO perpetuate the ‘phobias and isms? Those deserve no attention save for a warning. Hate them by starving them! No brainspace for you! And your brain will feel healthier too :)

Not to be "mean" but this is such a frustrating and obnoxious take for several reasons, the first being that it reduces creators to some nebulous, juvenile figure incapable of handling failure or critique, two of the most important steps in the creating process. Do you think we're all just blissfully unaware when something we do doesn't work? Do you think we're all snivelling children who must be catered to and patted on the head when we make mistakes, therefore condemned to never learning from them and growing as an artist and as a person? Making bad art is practically necessary for most artists because it is how we grow, just like falling down is part of learning to walk. Creators who cannot get back up, dust themselves off, take critique and learn from it are destined to have a pretty fucking bad time creating--save for those individuals who indulge in making bad art, whose tastes run towards that direction and create solely for themselves, and trust me, they'll have a good time regardless of any "haters" and will in fact probably delight in it.

"Bad" remains an integral and existing qualifier for art for as long as there remain billions of artists will a billion different ideas and thought processes and capabilities. Bad art must exist for good art to exist. If "all art is good art" then the word "good" as well as any other descriptors used for it lose all meaning, but apparently that's what you want, which in turn means you aren't interested in either creating or critiquing because both of those things carry meaning in their soul. If, as you said before, "nothing matters," then neither does art, which I find a rephrehensible take, just as I find nihilism itself reprehensible. Everything matters, actually, because if it doesn't then there is no "morally bad," an idea which you cling to despite it not being able to coexist with your other main conceit. You cannot have both. You cannot say nothing matters and all art is inherently good by virtue of being art, but also there is some objective morality scale by which all art is judged to determine its goodness. Your two points are at odds with each other, and by waggling your finger against "hating" you are denying every artist the right to learn and grow and become better.

[moonlilymusings]

warnings: !MDNI! fem!reader, sub!anaxa, dom!reader, pegg!ng, cro$$dres!ng, ooc anaxa? possibly. this was funny to me so i wrote it down and now i share it with my lovely munchkins, idk what words tumblr has blocked so im just gonna censor every word that makes me raise an eyebrow. uhhhhhhhhhhh idk what else to tag. not proofread lmao.

“I don’t think you fully understand my creative vision,” you say, trying to keep your face convincingly serious. Anaxagoras wasn’t buying it.

You two stand in silence once more before you continue your argument for the idea.

“Aglaea will never recognize you if you’re wearing a dress- because *you* would never do that!”

Again, Anaxa stands there, arms crossed, one hip timed to the side as he stares at you in utter bafflement. Beside you, Hyacine can’t contain her laughter.

“Please, master?” She asks with her best puppy eyes. “I think her plan will work, we just have to trust each other!”

Anaxa’s steely mask cracks at the words of the girl in front of him and he turn his gaze to you, who is attempting to look innocent, but are making a fool of yourself.

“If you truly think it only takes a dress to fool the *dressmaker*, you are surely besotten,” he says sharply. You hand him a wig and a pair of heels. He snatches them from you and stomps away.

As much as he’d like to defend himself in this situation, he has no other reason to be angry doing this than out of sheer petty. Sneaking into a feast just to steal a plate of food… he’s sure if the two of you asked, Agalaea would have accommodated you, but you were slower sometimes, especially when it comes to social cues and Hyacine is one of your few validators. And then there was that damn dress… to say he was entirely repulsed by it would be a lie. He knows he looks good, he knows he has a lithe build, a *frail* one at that. And he knows how much you eyeball his waist when he’s doing menial tasks. It makes him feel warm, despite all reason. Despite the two of you already being some sort of relationship already. Anaxa knows what makes your cogs turn and you know his. He knows you love arguing with him, so the encounter before was simply foreplay. And here he is, wearing a dress and sneaking into the back of Aglaea’s party. The dress is almost the same color as his hair and it’s silky and breathable. One side is hitched up to reveal his leg, his knee leading down to his decorated ankle. His heels are one of the popular shoes in style at the moment and the hairpiece is a snowy white color that reminds him of one of his students and covers his hidden eye. He makes a bee-line for the food table. As pretty as he felt, his stomach couldn’t stop doing flips. “A dromas dressed in finery,” he hears someone chuckle among the crowd. It makes him stop in his tracks before he continues onward, never forgetting his mission. As he’s loading the plate, he begins to question where it went wrong.

Why am I here?

Why am I doing this for them?

Do they really think they can tell me what to do?

I wonder if anyone recognizes me…

Why did I allow this?

Maybe she’ll let me keep the shoes…

He sighs, finishing the masterpiece of an artfully stacked food plate and he places another atop it to keep it from flying away. He smirks to himself.

“Too easy,” he chuckles, turning on his heel to leave.

Aglaea.

She’s staring at him with cold eyes, her fingers tapping against her cheek. Usually he would glare, but he’s not supposed to be him right now, is he? Anaxa diverts his eye contact and takes a different exit before breaking out in a run. The two girls behind the stupid idea peak up from their hiding place, a grin on each face. Anaxa falls behind the bush between the two and he shoves the plate of food in your hands. “There. Now get me home.”

You lay on his bed as he dries himself from the small bath he had just finished bathing in. He didn’t seem to hold the same affinity for baths as the other Crysos Heirs, but perhaps he did without expressing much about it.

“You looked really pretty today,” you say with a suppressed grin. He really did stun you. Every day he does, something new and beautiful every day. He grumbles something under his breath as he turns his back on you, standing in front of a full length mirror to dry his hair.

“You should put it on again,” you say, watching his reflected expression. He’s blushing madly and his eyes are squeezed shut.

“And why would I do that?” He asks through grit teeth.

“I want to show you just how pretty you are. Is that so bad?”

Anaxagoras is on his back, fingers clutching the sheets as you suck him off, your hands squeezing his thighs apart to keep him from accidentally knocking you in the head. His eyes are screwed shut but every twist and flick of your tongue has them rolling back. Your other hand is occupied alternating between stretching him open and massaging his balls, fingers reaching for his prostate, rubbing at it before pulling away just a little too soon. He curses your name and then blesses it, opening his legs and then squeezing them around your head. You commanded him to touch his chest during this but that was easily forgotten as soon as you started fingering him.

The dress is bunched up around his hips and pulled down from his collar bone to expose his fished chest. He insisted on the heels if he was to wear the dress and what started as soft praises and kisses turned into.. this. His hand reached for your hair but you catch it, pushing his lithe wrist to rub his palm against his abdomen, further teasing himself.

Anaxa hates sex. He can’t be composed, nor can he overpower without begging before the act, nor can he use this for his research, nor does it aid in clearing his mind of you at all. And to be brought to his knees by mere pleasure stimuli and not someone he has determined the on the same level as himself is truly humbling. You have complete power over him and the fact he could best you in every academic endeavor could not matter less in this environment. The smartest thing to do would be to submit.

He places his heeled foot against your shoulder and pushes with all his might and it works. You complain mildly but then you hook his legs over your shoulder, mindlessly kissing his ankles as he feels the strap that you had put in earlier catch on his hole. He bites his lip as it pushes against him, his eyelashes fluttering. This is humiliating, he thinks, as he always does.

Anaxa angles his hips to take the strap a little deeper before you still him and push his legs up further, his knees on each side of his head. You kiss him deeply and that brings the first vocal moan from him, his eyes rolling back as you penetrate his soft hole. He can’t move, he can’t think, he is rendered completely at the mercy of this person who just fell into his life. Brilliant.

You thrust into him softly at first, but you’re quickly emcouraged to go faster by him tugging on your hair and biting at your lips. You whisper to him to calm down but that only makes him more insistent.

You often get distracted during sex, especially when he’s bottoming. His eyes are so pretty you just fall right in. When you nuzzle into his neck and inhale the scent of his hair, you loose yourself. When you kiss and he draws his tongue against your teeth and lips, you find yourself pressing closer and closer, stilling your hips but lapping at his tongue as though his mouth were ambrosia and you, a dying man. He knew you got distracted but he just chalked that up to you being careless. He’d pinch your cheek or arm and pull you back into reality. You feel him pinch your cheek as you reminisce on this.

Anaxa’s body, lithe and curved with little muscle.. you reel back and hold his legs as you begin a steady pace, eager to pleasure him, make him have positive memories to associate with today and this dress. Perhaps if you do a good enough job, he’ll wear it for you again…

[slamminslamminmcgill]

waiter waiter!!! can i get more house md smut with a side of intox <3

I GOTCHUUUUUUU ive been thinking a lot abt it can you tell >:3

warnings: intox, hard drug use, cnc/noncon/dubcon, somno, gaslighting, humiliation, mentions of date rape and suicide, homophobia/transphobia, slurs, sph but make it t-dick, medical kink, 🏠 being 🏠

reader is a trans man/transmasc. anatomical terms used are cunt, slit, and dick/t-dick

so. house has no qualms drugging people for his own personal gain. he’s done it to wilson, cuddy’s mother, a nuisance neighbor, and god knows how many patients. but i don’t think he’d do it to have sex with someone. he has multiple reasons for this, the simplest being that he doesn’t need to.

“date rape is pathetic. if you can’t get people to sleep with you of their own free will, that’s what we call a ‘you problem’. you should worry about fixing your own life instead of ruining someone else’s. or, you could do the honorable thing and just kill yourself, like the noble samurai.”

he also wants his partner in the moment with him. someone excited, responsive, someone who will react to his every touch and beg for more. it’s an ego boost for him.

that being said, however, he’s absolutely into intox sex. it’s probably one of his biggest kinks. he’s fascinated by the effects of drugs, how a little bit of this or a tiny bump of that can augment the experience, either for himself, or a willing lab rat.

house gets off on documenting the experience. sometimes he’ll ask you questions about your high and put your answers in writing. sometimes he'll film the session (with or without your knowledge. i bet he has hidden cameras. depends on if he’s worried about participant bias). most commonly though, he'll narrate his findings into a voice recording.

he's fully clothed with you naked on his lap. your head's been spinning for a while now, thanks to that brownie he fed you earlier. he's got one hand pinching your nipple; the other lazily stroking your cunt, tracing up and down your slit, creating a baseline level of arousal for you. "current time is 11:57, almost 3 hours after ingestion. subject is presenting with dilated pupils, impaired motor skills, decreased cognitive function..."

he pinches your t-dick and jerks it aggressively, causing you to jolt upright and yelp in shock, "a-aah! f-fu-OH! fuck!” you start to leak into his hand.

"subject is self-lubricating adequately—" house’s fingers slip off your t-dick. he huffs in frustration, but gets right back to it, “perhaps even excessively, and presents with healthy erectile tissue despite underdevelopment.” he stops jerking you to suck on your neck and smack your cunt with an open palm. “you get that? that’s big smart doctor-speak for ‘you have a tiny dick.’” he starts to jerk you again. “an adorable, tiny little baby dick. it’s almost like you’re a real boy.”

it's not always a clinical trial with him, though. he’s also into more casual, personal, intimate intox play. things like drinking games or sharing a bong together. he loves pressuring you to do one more shot, take one more hit, let yourself slip further and further. he’s such a bad influence.

as you two get better acquainted over time, you’ll build trust in each other, and house will want to take more risks with you. he likes to call you on the phone at random with ideas.

he leaves you a voicemail, “you ever hear of ketamine? it’s a dissociative anesthetic. used as an antidepressant, a party drug, and horse tranquilizer. let me know if you’re interested, because i wanna give you some and then fuck you in the ass. alright! gotta go, talk soon. later, fag!”

after enough sessions together, he’ll pop the question: “how do you feel about loss of consciousness? are you okay with waking up to me using you?”

he invites you to spend the night, and you’re greeted at the door with some water and a mysterious pill.

“what’s this?” you ask.

“wanna find out?” he answers.

a few sessions like that, and then house will escalate. suppose an offer of a pill turns into a surprise injection in your bicep.

if you don’t pass out, you’ll have to guess what he gave you based on how it makes you feel. on edge? heart’s racing? a stimulant. dizzy? can’t think straight? a benzo. your body’s heavy, and the world seems like it’s lagging? ketamine.

but it’s not always obvious. you’ll be hours into a session, paranoid, overanalyzing your senses, trying to pinpoint what’s different than usual, but nothing sticks out. overall, you just feel… good. that’s all it feels like. no wacky colors or crazy thoughts, just good. but house always makes you feel good. in fact, his mouth is making you feel really good right now. what the hell did he give you? it’s gotta be something, right?

he’ll come up for air while he’s eating you out, “any guesses?”

you’re panting, gasping for all the air you can get in this brief moment’s respite, and you have no fucking clue. “i don’t… fuck, i don’t know. i can’t tell.”

“hm! sounds about right.”

“wh… wha?”

“i gave you a sugar pill, dummy. thought you would’ve figured it out by now. god, you’re stupid.”

[casual-praxis]

More of the genderbent witch au doodles!

Blue and Shadow bicker whenever they cross paths, but even despite that, they seem to have fun with it.

Perhaps they have more in common than they realize. :)

Blue, Green, and Red all have placeholder designs here, but I’m working on ironing out the details. They capture the basics at least.

More rambling below the cut as per usual.

Expanding on the lore a lil, I now have an idea for a silly low stakes story involving this colorful cast! So here’s a bit of character info.

Red and Green are sisters, though they aren’t twins like Vio and Shadow. Green’s older by about a year, though this doesn’t come up very often.

The two of them grew up together in a small village with their mother—also a witch—and were visited by their father—a knight—every now and again. They have a good relationship with both, and have divided interests related to both parents paths.

Blue is their childhood friend who also comes from a lineage of witches, though unlike Red and Green, she doesn’t get along with that side of her family. She still uses magic, but doesn’t go out of her way to practice it. She actually dislikes most other witches, hence the bickering with Shadow.

The three of them all run a magic shop together on the outskirts of town, where the village folk almost regularly visit in order to receive help on various magical mishaps. Their town is very accident prone. Somehow.

Green excels with enchantments. She likes weapons and maintaining them, especially if she can put weird buffs on them. Despite this affinity, combat magic is not her strong suit. She’d rather hold a sword than rely on casting. She’ll still put on a few magic rings though. They’re shiny, and add +10 charisma.

Blue is great with dispelling hexes, as well as healing if need be. She doesn’t have strong magic reserves like some others, but that doesn’t get in her way very often. She likely would have left their town to become a knight if she weren’t so worried about the town succumbing to its own bad luck. The magic shop keeps her busy at least. Never a dull moment around there. Especially not when the forest witches come into town.

Red has the most magic potential, but the least control over it. She usually just sticks to potion brewing, since that’s easier to manage, though every now and again she’ll give casting a go. One of her more recent attempts accidentally charmed a small witch hat to her hair, and while it can be removed, it seems to magnetize to her if she gets too close again. At least that attempt didn’t blow up.

Shadow and Vio are the aforementioned forest witches. They moved into a cottage in the woods just outside the village, and are seen as competition for the trio’s magic shop.

Shadow doesn’t trust other witches, but she wouldn’t outright attack one for no reason—so aimless bickering it is. She actually looks forward to seeing Blue, if only because she’s fun to rile up. No other reason, she’d assure you. :)

Vio is Vio. She forages, she fights, she flirts with Red. A simple life is all she wants to lead, and ignoring all the romantic tension between everyone else, she’s basically got it.

I’ll see what I can do about that story idea I had. Unfortunately my adhd reaaally doesn’t want to cooperate when I’m writing, so it’ll be an uphill battle. I’ll do my best though. This AU has been a nice refresher.

Bonus:

Red and her tiny hat.

[mcytegg]

woke up at 12 am and all i can think abt the empire and the sticklers like im sorry but i am so not normal abt their alliance it means the entire world to me.....

like especially the trust JUMPER has in the empire. ive been chewing through her s6 vods and the speed at which she went from fearing and wanting revenge bc they killed her and ro to her trusting them and wanting them to trust her was actually crazy

and this is all bc mapicc and minute chased clown away from her base bc he was hunting her down and she had no one else to protect her w her team offline. like yeah other people like zam and pangi were on but realistically how can they fight a clownpierce when zam was, at that point, a pacifist and pangi is pangi? /lh

them choosing to help jumper that day changed soooo much, it led to her warning the empire of her and reks silly end portal prank and warning them abt her trap,, and her taking direct action to build a bridge between their two teams which was both only possible bc yk. mapicc and minutes inherent bias for some people on the team ANDDDD their sense of honour when it comes to who they choose to fight

like as much as the empire WANTS to be the bad guys this season, its quite funny how they just ARENT (yet) bc they have actual honour and morals in comparison to the blindfold bandits (flame, mane, wemmbu, and pentar i believe) who have been terrorizing the server, especially low heart players, since the beginning.

bc like choosing to protect jumper from clown was just...THE most minute and mapicc thing ever like theyre both just like that; i dont think either of them see any purpose behind terrorizing and hunting players like jumper, pangi, squiddo, etc who both dont really involve themselves in pvp and who dont HAVE the capability to fight back if theyre jumped by someone w like 20 hearts

like dont get me wrong theyll attack players who are weaker than them, theyre not moral and faultless people, like minute killing sb for a heart, mapicc wanting to kill kab for a heart bc he thinks she has too many (before he hit 20 hearts), etc but those are players who have CHOSEN to involve themselves in pvp and to kill other players—

and im crying wait i hate devotion duo so fucking bad bc ive just now realized mapiccs standards for players he will kill vs ones he deems needing his protection if he knows theyre being hunted by like mane, clown, or wemmbu is literally identical to ZAMS own standards for players he will involve himself in conflict for vs those he wont (aka innocent players vs those who choose to involve themselves in Situations)

anyways! im just yapping atp but idc. yeah so mapicc and minutes inherent sense of honour in regards to fighting and pvp on top of hopperclock-duality friendship buff from previous season(s) has lead to one of the most interesting alliances ever like if u could not tell i love and adore this alliance so very much bc the foundation of it is trust and friendship rather than power or how they can benefit one another

they have common enemies for sure, but a lot of what they do doesnt even really involve fighting or conflict. its mostly just spending time together and being silly likeeee jumper and spokes silly4silly friendship, ro helping mapicc stalk zam, chief refusing to trap/kill rek after chat asks bc theyre buddies, etc etc

i really desperately want to see them interact and do more together bc i just wanna see both teams login more ngl but i'd also like to see them just have fun TOGETHER like they did during the pangi wipe out recording during that one session a few weeks ago yk,, i also hope the empire will involve the sticklers in whatever shit they have planned for january bc they allegedly have some evil, devious things planned when minute is more free / available for life steal

i actually just have no idea what im saying anymore ngl ive been typing for over an hr but tysm if u read me yapping abt the empire and the sticklers. it will happen again. /threat

[timlucys]

potentially unpopular opinion but that 7x04 end scene would've hit a lot harder if they didn't do that whole bet plot

[randomnameless]

More about a certain beast masquerading as a human -

Teaspoon translation hasn't gotten to that point yet, so I'll keep on checking but in her expedition dialogues with Barney, Flayn goes :

Is there something amiss with my face? I like to think my features are of a similar and pleasing proportion.

Traditional reaction from a character who is stared at by the avatar.

In JP though...

わたくしの顔、何か変でしょうか？　目も 鼻も口も、皆さんと同じだと思うのですが

(years of reading naruto raw scans made me recognise 目 lol)

Google'd it goes like this :

Is there something strange about my face? My eyes, nose, and mouth are the same as everyone else's

Sure, you can interpret it as Flayn saying she's like everyone else aka has "similar proportion" to everyone else... but with the context - and giving how Flayn doesn't mention her ears at all! - it's much more interesting that despite being a "creature masquerading as a human", Flayn desperatly wants to be seen (to continue masquerading!!!!) as someone who isn't strange, but we could also infer that she is worried about her nature and appearance : she's not strange, after all, she is pretty similar to a human!

Which leads to the second point :

It makes me very happy indeed to know that you think of me as a friend

わたくしのことを、お友達だと思って くれているなら嬉しいのですが……

It's more or less (according to GT) the same thing, but note Flayn's ellipse, she'd be happy if Barney - out of anyone - would consider her to be a friend. Is she doubtful that it would never happen because she knows Barney has ties to Agarthans? Or she is just afraid that she cannot make friends with humans, because she's not one of them?

That friend thing is developed in her exploration lines :

Ask about their friends.: Do you think the others consider me as one of their friends? 皆さんはわたくしのことを、仲間だと 思ってくれているのでしょうか……？

She feels insecure about how she is perceived by the others, aka the members of the AG cast - even if she joined their ranks and has been fighting with them!

(it almost makes me think of a scenario where she joins a class, then her Leader ask her to stop having power over humans and says she should have been comatose somewhere else instead of wanting to reunite with her family, after organised her abduction and exsanguination, so she leaves that class, but her former classmates - who participated in her rescue mission - can now kill her because they believe she is a monster and a cruel beast without any regard for human life. Her life would suck in that scenario!)

Long story, short story : Flayn wishes to make friends with humans (and even agarthans, if she knows about Barney!) but is still worried that they will shun her, or straight up refuse to befriend her if she is perceived as different (or if her identity is revealed).

I guess both games could have tackled that issue - especially in her supports with two lords - but that would mean ditching your pot of Hresvelg Grey, and we can't have that.

Instead, we have a very fine cup of tea, while Flayn gets reduced screentime by virtue of being associated to Rhea, who is BaD bcs she exists.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

. putting polaris in the same room as wolfe. just to see what they become

OUGH. oouuhhh hhmmm.. thats certainly something t chew on... from my best understanding atm of polaris, they change their appearance+demeanor to most appeal to one's desires-- in an effort to keep them close, i believe..? atleast, this is what my digging about provides me with..

ok so. this very much does shift with time so theres a couple fronts to tackle with This Thang. cause like.

for a majority of wolfes earlier life, her actual singular desire is. To Be Left The Fuck Alone. like yeah, she's incredibly outwardly abrasive and has spent a Lot of her life having Just An Absolutely Terrible Time, but none of that really manifests itself as any genuine want to Retaliate in any way. of her own volition, at least-- she has to be under a Lot of strain to actually genuinely lash out at someone. which is to say, If It Sucks, she WILL Hit Da Bricks. she wants to minimize energy cost as much as possible.

she didnt have a lot of drive. a simple 'get in and get out' is quite literally the most she can ask of . literally anything. so to be placed next to someone who Wants to get her to stay, to forge a connection; its. gonna suck. even if she Did have any prior connections to pull on (which she might, but im not sure. were not really sure.) theres a high chance it actually repels her. she hates reminders like that-- she wants to move the hell on already. (i cant help but wonder why. even With a potential 'what if you got another chance?' implication, the aversion still stands. what do you mean by this.)

but then, of course, this Starkly changes with the introduction of rose. after that? it is comedically easy djhfgdj

not only is there an Actual Physical person that she pretty much just Blindly Trusts, but she also starts having Actual Wants past 'dont talk to me' and 'let me mind my own fucking business.' its tenuous, but she Does start more openly caring about the safety of other people, even if she doesnt really particularly know them. but that's a much more slow, kind of mild thing. the easiest (albeit less thorough) way is to present as someone who genuinely needs help- especially if theyre particularly young. its more distant, but she Will try to help.

and then theres the fucking. Situation. with rose. of course she'd be highly on edge about the entire ordeal (thats just how she Is,) but its not a terribly difficult part to play on the surface level because. well. yeah. she misses her. she Wants for things to just suddenly be okay, it was fine, and they all make it out okay. and if rose says its okay, then its probably okay, because why would rose lie to her?

but then theres the Problems. see, i havent exactly pinned down the precise Details of what happens, but its been like that from the very start. in an attempt to keep wolfe from being pulled into a self-destructive spiral, yet another monster they just Have to put down because As Sad As It Is, There's No Other Option; (and also keep the same thing from happening to anyone else too, i guess,) she finds a way to take that role for Herself-- a self-induced loss of control with the goal of 1) exposing just a Bit more of what exactly was Causing everything, and 2) keeping wolfe from doing the exact same thing for Her. an act that she knows full well she almost certainly wont come back from. and well. she didnt. and on some level, this was the intent.

which Means. if that's the angle polaris decides to go for, they Will have to deal with the fallout of "what was that why did you do that why didnt you tell me anything why would you do that why didnt you let me do anything why did you do that what is wrong with you???"

so um have fun with that one, i guess.

[gayofthefae]

Here's the thing about season 3. Nothing was a secret. There was no lining or buildup. They cleared up the miscommunication in episode 4 and she stood by breaking up with him anyways.

From there, just like I say about Will's feelings being unreciprocated, the problem is unactionable, so there's no lesson and nothing for us to root for.

Mike wants to get back together with El. She knows that. Nothing happens.

The L bomb was dropped as a false sense of momentum, because there actually wasn't any because him not saying it wasn't the problem so it shouldn't be the solution. Usually you have pining. Think the full season breakup story they did the following season:

There was pining. There was investment from US. Because there was setup for confession. Because something was withheld to be revealed. "You know I really like you but you don't know I love you" does not count. Lucas didn't know Max wanted to get back together. They had been broken up long enough and Lucas was respectful enough that Max couldn't be sure either. That setup investment for the notes passing scene. That set up his NERVES in it. That set up me being excited when I saw their first kiss in her 4x04 happy memories sequence. And satisfied to have predicted the Snow Ball as her happiest memory. If Max had known he definitely wanted to get back together as soon as she was ready again and wasn't going to move on at all, there would be no stakes.

Mike wanted to be with El. Then she didn't want to be with him. She can't have the nerves of confessing to him she wants to get back together because she already knows he does. He can't have the nerves of confessing he wants to because he already has. And they didn't establish them as friends solidly or for long enough like they did by establishing that Lucas and Max had ALREADY broken up as opposed to a 6 day breakup arc to make it so that they became unsure of what they once knew to me true of getting back together. Severity of wording changed and El loves romantic tropes in movies so it had influence but really:

Mike had no information to add that El didn't already have. El had nothing stopping her giving Mike information as soon as she had it. There were no stakes. So I didn't care. Whatever happened, cute. That was my thought process. But I had no real investment anymore, unlike when they were building to confession or fighting to get back to each other, because I knew as soon as she wanted to get back together they just automatically would be. So if you, like you were meant to, believed that Mike loved El and knew that she knew that, that scene where she said it back was cute. But not satisfying.

There is nothing to be resolved. We're watching events take place sequentially. Because when there are no stakes, there's no real goal either. Mike invented one for himself because he was uncomfortable with the idea of how comfortable he was broken up.

Tldr: Mike and El's relationship had no secrets and therefore no stakes or opportunity for confession in season 3. El telling Mike she loved him was cute, but not a "confession". Because, just like Mike telling her he loves her in 4x09, if we (think we) know how the other person is feeling and will react, we can't at all invest in the feelings of nervousness or satisfaction that the confessor is feeling.

Season 3 and 4 uninvested us by feigning plots in which they gave us no new information. And bored us. If you know exactly how a scene will play out all but exact wording, you will space out because you can. A writer never wants you to be able to space out and miss nothing. (Until they don't want you to miss what's happening when they take it away)

[katyspersonal]

[dez-wade]

Insaneduo is ironically the only thing saving me from insanity

Thank you for existing and also giving me the amazing divorcee dynamic.

[skippingseaglass]

the world is kinder than i think it is isn't it?