#god i wrote some true shit for them

[satrs]

Kiss Me, Curse Me!

SYNOPSIS; You thought you were the summoner. Turns out, you’re the sacrifice.

FEAT; trueform!sukuna and dragonform!sylus x fem!reader

TAGS; MDNI! 2.9k. unprotected. porn without plot. monster fucking. Threesome, Size k!nk. dirty talk. petnames. both of them have two cocks. overstim. praise mainly from sylus. lotsss of degredation from sukuna. oral fixation. Power play(?). Softdom!Sylus and meandom!sukuna. breeding. knotting. creampie. double(triple) penetration. anal. nasty stuff. cum cum cum. everywhere. implied marathon sex. dacryphilia(?).

✎A/N; I feel so DIRTY oh ma gahhhwd!!! This must be the flithiest shit I've ever wrote man. And it feels so good!!!!! Sososo excited to post this hihi. Thanks again to @bluukive for this idea ahhhh hope y'all like it and have a wonderful day/night ^^

Demons are real. It’s true.

And dragons too.

You know this because you’re here now– trapped between two towering figures whose mere presence makes the air bend, their shadows swallowing the light.

This was supposed to be a joke.

A silly little manifestation ritual you found buried in the dark corners of the internet. Some scribbled runes, a whispered name, a drop of blood under the full moon.

You didn’t expect anything to happen as you sat on your bed, waiting.

You didn’t expect them to happen.

One of them smells like fire and you can feel the rumble of his breath down your spine, slow and controlled like he’s keeping something ancient locked inside.

The notorious dragon, Sylus, is the name given to him, and his voice is low and reverent. His fierce gaze bores through you, dark rubies soaking in your anxious form, a quick twitch tugging at his lips– and between his legs.

And the other?

He reeks of blood. His claws are already firm on your hips, grin splitting wider than it should. His four arms twitch with something between amusement and hunger, whilst the weak robe does a poor job of covering his sinful figure, a conspicuous bulge evident through the white cloth, digging into your back.

The infamous king of curses– Sukuna.

“W-what, are you?–” you break off with a sharp breath, chest heaving, “Are you going to kill me?”

Sukuna's resounding laugh is anything but comforting, only further forcing reality onto you. You can barely breathe sandwiched between the two, your hand forcing the sheets beneath you in a fist, and you realize–

You're fucked. Capital F.

“Foolish woman,” the pink-haired murmurs, lips grazing your ear. “If we wanted you dead, we would've cut you to pieces already, no?”

"T-then, what do you want from me?", you ask with wobbling lips, heart rapidly beating in your chest as your quivering voice reaches their ears.

Sylus growls in front of you, a warning, or a possessive sound– you can’t tell. His hands slide up your front, cupping your tits through the thin shirt like they’re something fragile, something sacred. His thumbs brush your nipples and you can't help but slip out a tiny little whimper.

“Don't play dumb, sweetie.” Sylus ushers, voice deep and steady, one massive hand sneaking around your neck until his breath comes hot onto your quivering lips. One of his crimson eyes begins to glow in a dangerous flame, invading your personal space. “You know exactly why you summoned us.” His voice is a deep whisper against your lips. "Your deepest and darkest desires", the white-haired continues before dipping his head to take a big whiff of your scent, placing a lingering kiss on your plumb lips right after, "I see it all."

You should end this madness. Gods, you should.

But when the demon's claws tighten around your waist just enough to sting, and when Sylus presses his chest to yours, his scales prickling lightly where they emerge from his skin– you can't help but let go of any doubt or fear and just let go.

And when neither of them moves away, you realize what exactly the cunning dragon means.

This wasn't a decision on a whim. You planned this– researched for hours upon hours through the darkest corners of the internet for the mysterious dragon and the feared King Of Curses. You did this on a night you've felt lonely, empty, and heated. Purposely.

You summoned them so they claim you.

But you just didn't expect it to work. And you surely didn't expect them to share your interest.

All rushing thoughts flee from your mind once Sukuna’s claws sink deeper into your hips, dragging your ass flush against his hefty, pulsating cock. The sound he makes is more beast than man, a low, guttural snarl vibrating down your spine.

“Fuck,” he hisses, leaning down, his breath hot on your neck. “Can even smell how fucking wet ya are." A shiver runs down your spine, your hips twitching back into his, a dark, prominent imprint of your juices covering your panties.

You try to speak, to deny it, to plead for something– anything, but right then the demon's mouth closes around the side of your throat, warm tongue dragging up the curve of your neck before sharp fangs tease at your pulse, a strangled sound ripping from your throat.

“Don’t you lie, woman”, he murmurs against your skin, his voice low, like smoke caught in velvet. “You reek of desire. It's painfully obvious that ya want your poor, empty pussy filled.”

His claws flex. “And you're shy now?” He laughs, dark and amused. “Just listen to her clenchin' around nothin'."

Sylus straightens up at that, predatory gaze fixated onto your clothed pussy, perked ears catching onto the desperate clenches of your cunny, a smirk creeping up his face, fangs bare. "Adorable. Let's give her what she wants, yeah?”

You gasp when Sukuna's claws rip the panties from your body, thick and heavy cock now poking out from the crumbling robe. His cock sits right between your thighs and–

wait, are there two?

Burning body tensing up as you feel two massive crowns sliding through your glistening folds and you shriek once one catches onto your clit as the other teases your entrance.

And Sylus doesn’t help.

His hands are already back on your chest, greedily kneading your flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers with such aching gentleness it makes you whimper and squirm.

“Easy,” Sylus whispers, kissing just below your jaw, addressing his words to the demon behind you. “No need to rush.” His crimson eyes shoot a sharp glare at the pink-haired from the crook of your neck as a warning.

But Sukuna only scoffs, dragging his claws lightly down your thigh, just enough to make your skin ripple, pushing them further apart. “Easy? She doesn't want 'easy'. Am I right, brat?”

Your weak nod amuses them, their deep chuckles flooding your senses.

It’s quick, your mortal eyes are unable to track the motion, but your body feels it. The sudden stretch, the pressure of something massive forcing its way past your trembling resistance. Your mouth falls open in a soundless cry as two thick, throbbing cocks push deep inside, splitting you open in one sharp, devastating stroke.

Sukuna snarls behind you, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your bones. Fangs flash near your ear, and his grip on your waist tightens as two of his four arms brace your hips open. The other two wrench your wrists back, forcing your spine into a nasty arch that had your breasts pressed up toward Sylus’s chest, offering you up like a sacrifice.

Sylus' dark, lovestruck crimson eyes coo at you, one gentle hand smoothing over your cheek as if to soothe the sting Sukuna leaves behind.

“Feels good, sweetie?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. His other hand slips between your thighs, fingers circling your puffed clit, and your entire body arches like a bow. “Yes? No? Maybe so?”

"Y-yessss!– 's good! S-so good!"

“Of-fucking-course,”

The king spits, his voice dark and wicked, “Taking every. fucking. Inch. like the cockhungry slut you are.”

Each word is followed by a snap of his hips, knocking the breath from your lungs. He doesn't give you time to adjust– doesn’t want to. His pace is relentless like he’s trying to mark you from the inside out.

And frankly, he is.

Your body trembles under Sukuna’s merciless rhythm, every thrust deep and punishing, but it’s Sylus who draws your attention back to the front, fingers still teasing at your clit with maddening skill, his hand firm on your jaw to pull you into a dizzy kiss, swallowing each tiny sound of yours right up.

You blink up at him through heavy lashes, lips parted around gasping moans. Grip still fierce on your jaw, he forces your head down, bending your body to face his freed cocks– yes, plural.

“C'mon, pretty” he murmurs. “Show me what you've got. Make me feel good too, yeah?”

And you comply, teary eyes staring up at his hungry ones as you stretch your lips around his red and angry head, one weak hand grasping his other cock with desperate jerks.

Sylus let out a low, hungry purr, his scales glinting faintly with a deep crimson sheen. He's cradling your jaw in one clawed hand, his thumb brushing away the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try to take the thick head into your throat, veins scraping along your esophagus.

“Good job, sweetheart”, he murmured, gently guiding your head as you gagged around him. “Careeeeful now. Not too fast.”

Sukuna laughed, the sound jagged. “Fuckin' pathetic. Too fucked out to even do the job right. Need some help, airhead? I'll help ya, aight."

His two strong hands grasp at your torso, lifting you just barely in a tight hold for both of your hands to wrap around the dragon's cocks while your tongue swirled around the fat cockheads alternately.

"Now that's more like it, wouldn't you agree?" Sylus ignores the snickering demon with a scoff, breath halting in his lungs as you slide your tongue and nail experimentally along his slits, happily lapping up spurts of pre gushing out of them.

Sukuna's cocks were thick, ridged, and mean, curved just right to grind against every sensitive place inside your greedy cunt. He knew it too– used it like a weapon. Vicious thrusts, with each one punching a strangled scream from your lungs and driving Sylus’s cock deeper down your throat, the stretch maddening.

Behind you, a wet tongue suddenly draaaags along your puckering hole, and you don't even realize that another mouth appeared on the demon's stomach, because with one teasing prod at your asshole, you spray his two cocks with your cum, thighs shacking with a resounding cry.

And the bastard dares to laugh at you, placing one forceful smack to your ass. “Awww, cumming already?” he purred, claws digging to the back of your neck once you tear your mouth from the dragon's dick to spare a glance at the demon behind you, forcing your lips to kiss the crown of Sylus's thick head again. "Eyes to the front, ma'."

Sylus’s hand curves protectively around the back of your head as you choke around his girth, your hands occupied on the other, your spit dripping down onto the other length serving as lube.

“Good fuckin' girl,” he whispered. “Juuuuuust like that.”

His other hand slid down your belly, groaning at the massive bulge forming in the pit of your stomach, calloused fingers brushing where Sukuna was splitting you open. You jolted as he circled your clit again, with more force this time.

Sukuna groaned in satisfaction as you clenched around him– hard, sucking him in further.

“Thight fuckin',– f-fuckkkk” he cuts himself off with a broken moan, his tips now bullying your cervix. “B-brat.”

You couldn’t respond, not with your mouth stuffed full and your body trembling, but your choked whimper made both of them rumble with dark delight.

"C'mon, give our princess some credit. No need to be all grumpy." Sukuna sneers at the dragon's remark, and he would love to just slice him to pieces right now, but fuck– you're really doing a number on him with that feisty pussy of yours.

Even if he doesn't want to admit it, those suffocating clenches around his double girth and your sweet hiccups around Sylus's cocks send blood rushing straight to his groin.

He leaned harder into you, his chest brushing your back, breath hot against your shoulder with his fangs breaking your skin with a possessive bite as he snarled. “Yer' right, she deserves an award for that rich pussy. Gonna make her cum over and over again."

Truly, a man of his word.

Between his unrelenting thrusts and Sylus’s teasing fingers, your body tipped over the edge again with a scream muffled around the dragon’s cock. You spasmed, helpless, muscles clenching so hard Sukuna cursed and threw his head back with a guttural roar.

But he doesn’t stop– doesn't even slow.

“Sweet thing,” Sylus murmurs, brushing your hair back with claws gentler than they had any right to be. “You’re glowing, darlin'. So beautiful like this.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, mouth raw and sore, but Sylus just wipes them away and praises you more, coaxing you to relax your throat, letting you feel every inch, every vein of his as you bobbed and gagged and took to no end, delicate fingers beginning to shake around the monstrous girth.

Suddenly, the fullness leaves you entirely as you hear Sukuna panting, then slap your ass hard enough to make you jolt against Sylus, earning a satisfied hum from the dragon.

“H-hahhh– on your back,” he commanded.

You're certain you're not walking out of this in one piece.

You collapse onto Sylus's lap as Sukuna flips you effortlessly. The gentle dragon caught you, pulling you up to straddle his thighs as he leaned back. His cocks slide back between your wobbling legs, thick and flushed in a dark red, and he nuzzles your temple.

“My turn now. Promise I won't be as harsh, sweetie.” He kisses your ear and you faintly notice the small chuckle following right after.

A blunt lie.

You whimper as Sukuna positions in front of you, laughing as he grabs your thighs and forces you down onto Sylus’s cocks, one entering through your quivering cunt while the other pushes past your tight puckering behind, slowly this time.

The menacing grin spread across the demon's face accompanied by the stretch made you sob, silent cries dying on your tongue as Sylus catches you in a heated kiss, whispering soft praises against your lips while Sukuna watches in envy, hungry eyes soaking in the stretch of both your holes.

“Look at that,” Sukuna growled, holding your hips in place. “What an insatiable pussy ya' got on ya'. Two cocks weren’t enough for that desperate little cunny, hmmm?"

You barely had time to gasp before Sukuna was pushing in– again–his cock sliding into your already stretched, soaked hole alongside Sylus’s, while the other rests heavily on your stomach, twitching with each weak squelch of your abused hole.

You can't do anything but scream– throat dry and hoarse.

Your body doesn't know what to do, torn between the two of them, the brutal drive of Sukuna’s cock and the slow but bewildering grind of Sylus’s cocks in both of your holes.

Pain and pleasure blur, and all you can do is sob and take, the astonishing fullness of it all flooding your senses.

“Ya feel that?” Sukuna hisses, teeth scraping your ear. “Mine. Gonna fuck a baby into ya."

Your eyes roll to the very back of your skull.

Sukuna’s claws dig into your hips, his upper hands grabbing your tits, pulling you back onto his cock harder, deeper. Sylus pushes deeper, slow and heavy, grinding against your walls as his knot starts to swell.

You're gone.

Body shaking, mouth open in a soundless cry. You feel them both stretching you, rubbing against each other inside you, cocks sliding and pushing deeper and deeper until–

“Nuh uhhhh” Sylus teases, cupping your jaw as his hips roll upward, slow and deep, knot threatening to push past your holes. “You're mine, right?”

They break you in sync. Make you sob their names, until you physically can't anymore, make you cum until you're nothing but a mess of hiccups and mewls, just broken sounds and clawed grasps at their bodies.

The demon growls, finally leaning in to tear your head from Sylus's grasp, much to his dismay to secure you in a nasty kiss, clash of tongue and teeth.

“Like hell. She's mine, Gonna treasure this perfect pussy forever."

Sylus doesn't back down, teeth already on your neck, followed by his soothing tongue. “We're gonna let her decide for herself”, one of his hands reach down your tummy, selfishly pushing down on your filled tummy making him growl before he reaches for Sukuna's cock resting on top of your stomach, aligning the tip to your clit in teasing slides, "She's our big girl, no?"

But you can't respond nor think straight as the three cocks hit your spot just right as you gush around them, glistening pussy spurting shiny essence onto them.

Your climax ripped through you like violent lightning, body clenching around them so hard Sylus groaned and snapped his hips forward, knot catching.

Sukuna loses it.

He slams in one final time, heavy balls clenching, spilling thick white semen inside your already overflowing pussy until it spills out while painting your tummy pussy with ropes after ropes, cum soaking your thighs and dripping onto the dragon's thighs below.

You're stuffed. Plugged. Held open by Sylus’s knot, Sukuna still throbbing inside.

Sylus follows seconds later, cock twitching as he groans your name against your throat, warmth spilling into the depths of your cavity, his swelling knots now locking you firmly into place as he buries his cum deep into you.

You collapse against the dragon with trembling legs, poor cunt, and ass stuffed to the brim, mind so fucked-out you barely register Sukuna pulling back with a chuckle, admiring the mess leaking down your thighs.

“Beautiful,” he says, for once, almost softly, sharp nails collecting the pearly white juices to rub tight circles onto your buttony clit, riding out your high. “Fuckin' perfect.”

Sylus wraps his arms around you, wings curling in as he pulls you flush against his chest.

“Rest now, darling,” he murmurs, voice like thunder rumbling in your bones. “We still got plenty of time to make you ours.”

Demons are real. Dragons too. And now they’ve claimed you.

Body, soul, and every trembling breath in between.

The ritual worked, but no one said it would ever end.

©︎SATRS. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[rednightmare18]

It's not even about the vindication of calling a ship, okay. It's that the supposedly anti woke studio wrote about 3 million words of medieval fiction centering the relationship of the two main characters who are in most ways (or in all ways if you follow the obvious canon momentum of the story) meant for each other, as counterparts who help each other survive the great travails of their lives and who challenge/complete the other to become fuller, braver, kinder people. It's so clear these two people are soulmates, platonically or romantically, something observed consistently by the world around them and by themselves.

Except their society (feudalism, Catholicism) dictates that they are intended to be completely incompatible by nature and divine law. Not just for the obvious fact they are both men, but they are separated by what is arguably an even steeper chasm of social class. Their existence even as friends utterly spites, interrupts, and threatens feudal order right down to its theological and philosophical roots. They should not see each other as human and yet.

It's the fact that they do. The fact that the entire story has been about this--that these two protagonists fit together, undeniably, and grow to love each other fiercely (a love that deepens superbly from their knee-jerk playful puppy-friend-love in kcd1 to something selfless and mature by the end of kcd2). And they do so despite the immense opposition by their world, their social circles, their faith, and indeed their fandom.

And yes, it really does fucking matter that all of this culminates into a deep onscreen romantic love (if you get out of the way and allow it to) between two fandom-beloved male main characters (not just side characters rammed in for an optional gay romance but THE main characters of the duology; the "you" as in the player character and your erstwhile dick-jokes bro you have perhaps grudgingly at first been invited as the audience to love) in a historical fiction story that has been wrongly touted by the worst of our contemporaries as the holy grail of cultural conservatism.

Holy shit. Warhorse -- y'all. I'm sorry I doubted you. So few game writers understand how love works and indeed how people work, let alone translate it so well onto the screen.

Calling this an "optional romance" is not technically incorrect, I suppose, because it's true you can opt out and choose to remain platonic friends. But this language feels like a disservice, as if Henry & Hans's romance is a typical RPG wham-bam fanservice makeout with a minor fan fave character who never interacts meaningfully with the player again. Or as if it's a Bioware-style "give this NPC the right gift and do their side quest and you get to see a jankly ugly-bumpin' montage" situation.

Kingdom Come: Deliverance is so very much not that. The "main, optional" romance scene in question is just one consummation event of two people who have been growing up and falling in love in front of us over the course of some 200-300 (or god knows how many) hours. The fact these protagonists openly love each other is very much not optional.

This is, sincerely, groundbreaking storytelling in this medium and this genre. How fucking cool that we all got to see it now.

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 , 𝐊𝐑𝟕

summary , people seem to be under the impression that you and your good friend sebastian are dating but little do they know kimi is way more your type

pairing , rockstar! bassist! kimi räikkönen x fem! f1 driver! reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | sol’s masterlist | f1 masterlist

Y/NNIE

hey seb quick question

is kimi single?

SEBBY

yes he is

why do you ask

Y/NNIE

cuz he gives big dick enegery

and he is high key super hot

SEBBY

ew that's one of my best friends

Y/NNIE

sorry

but you know I cannot lie when it comes to fine men

also have you seen peoples twitter theories that we are together

SEBBY

yeah hannah and I were laughing at them earlier

some people are so dumb

Y/NNIE

ikr?

anyway kimi's number?

SEBBY

I better be best man when you two get married

xxx-xxx-xxx

Y/NNIE

I wouldn't have anybody else sebby

yourinstagram

liked by sebastianvettle kimimatiasraikkonen 78,384,982 others

yourinstagram look who I ran into kimimatiasraikkonen

view comments

user wingman kimi>>>

user he def putting. agood word in for seb

user seb sent his man so Y/N would hear about how great he is

user mother lookin sexy af rn

user getting ready for the dating annoucment

user seb def got notifications on for Y/N's posts lol

user so we can alllll see seb in the likes right????

view more comments

SEB

soooo kimi

what's the deal with you and Y/N

KIMI

friends

dw dude I know you into her

so no need to get jealous

SEB

jealous???

dude I was trying to set you up

why do you think I gave her your number

KIMI

ummm cuz you wanted me to put in a good word for you

SEB

dude I'm married

her name is hannah

LEW

let me guess vegas wedding

SEB

yup

KIMI

okay but what if she is not into me

SEB

dude she's had the hots for you since say one what are you talking about

LEW

yeah dude even a blind man

she's super into you mate

KIMI

oh damn

JEN JEN

okay hate to break up this revelation

but kimi the love song that you wrote about Y/N

is all over twitter

KIMI

oh shit

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

um kimi please tell me why I had to find out through twitter

that you are parental in love with me

is this true or????

KIMZILLA

yeah

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

well I like you too

and fucking god you said yes or this would be so fucking awkward rn

KIMZILLA

right

wanna come over

also seb's asking when the wedding is

I was thinking summer

BEAUTIFUL TRAIN WRECK

we can talk plans after we fucked all night long

KIMZILLA

sounds like a plan rakkaani

sounds like a plan my love

kimimatiasraikkonen

liked by yourinstagram sebastianvettle5 87,389,477 others

kimimatiasraikkonen every song I write from now on will only ever be about you

view comments

user omfg this is so hot

yourinstagram my rockstar <3

user isn't that kimi's cross??????

sebastianvettle5 took you long enough dude

user wtf is going on in the house of commons

lewishamilton okay but what colour suit should I get for the wedding that's the real question

user this is so fucking iconic

jensonbutton there are childen on this app kimi....

user and you clown's were really saying Y/N and Seb huh

user live laugh love kimi and Y/N rn

user this ate in every language known to man

comments have been limited

[carolmunson]

18+ stoned!reader x stoned!eddie, some semi smut found this in my drafts from a couple days ago that i wrote when i was...also stoned. utter nonesense, most of it.

“Shh—hehe-shh, no, no, we have to be — hahaha — sh, sh, quiet,” he whisper yells, stumbling over himself while he nearly knocks a lamp off of a side table in Steve Harrington’s living room. The rest of the gang filled the guest bedrooms, leaving you both on the pull out couch.

His sweaty hand clasps yours as you finally make it to the kitchen, squinting in the light against the white tiles.

“Ugh, put the dimmer on,” you whine into another peal of ‘quiet’ giggles.

“Okay, okay,” he nods, leaning against the wall while he twists the light switch knob, the lights going to a low yellow.

“That’s better — shit,” he huffs, grinning.

“What?” you grin back,

“M’stoned as shit, babe,” he laughs, rubbing his swollen red eyes.

“Me—haha, me too,” you laugh back. You both make your way to the abandoned s’mores ingredients on the counter, the reason for the adventure to the kitchen.

“I don’t really get marshmallows,” he says, popping one into his mouth, “Li’ I get them, buh I don’ really get them.”

“True, true,” you nod, breaking a graham cracker in half, staring at the crumbs on the marble, “They’re like — oh my god — holy shit, they’re a fake food.”

“Babe, fuck — you’re so right,” he nods, “Like what’re they even made of?”

“Like…plastic, babe. I think they’re plastic,” you nod back, eyes as wide as they can go — and it’s not wide at all, “Like from space. They’re space plastic.”

“They’re totally space plastic,” he agrees, putting another one in his mouth, “Tasthy, shug-ry, spacthe, plasdic.”

“M’so thirsty,” you complain, turning the sink on with little grace, leaning forward to drink from the faucet.

“Aw, shit, me too — move,” Eddie grumbles, holding his hair back and hip bumping you out of the way.

“Hey!” you whine, hip bumping him back, knocking your forehead against his to get back to the water.

“You hey!” he laughs back, face half reproachful and half mischievous, “I’ll count to five and then hahaha, then it’s my turn.”

You drink quick while he counts down, taking turns in intervals of five until you both think you’ve been drinking water for hours.

“3, 4…”

“Okay enough, you’re waterboarding me,” you gasp after a gulp, turning the sink off.

“You don’t even know what that means.”

“No Ed, you don’t even know what that means.”

“No you,” he tuts, leaning in for a kiss.

“No you,” you tut back, letting him kiss you softly. Unsurprisingly, you both let out simultaneous groans, knowing you’re both on shaky ground if you keep at it. It takes little effort for him to convince you to sit up on the island counter so his hips can line up against yours, ringed and tattooed hands gripping your thighs without thought or care behind it, just need. Just bare need from the roots. He pushes forward, the hard on tenting his boxers pressing up flat against you. Two more breathy groans coming from between your kisses while he rocks against your panties.

“I don’t have a condom with me,” he whispers against your lips.

“Sss…hmmm, it’s okay,” you mumble out, swollen eyes now shut while your body tingles through with pleasure, “S’feelin’reallygood babe.”

“You all extra sensitive?” he asks, the giggles gone, just eyes that want you — brain focused now on chasing the pleasure in his groin.

“Yeah,” you whimper, his chest pressing up against yours when he brings his mouth to your neck. To your spot. The whine you let out is a little too loud and you both know it — enough that he covers your mouth while he keeps going, hips still grinding in a steady rhythm against you. He tugs you down back to the floor by your hips, turning you around without a second thought, oversized t-shirt rucked up to your waist.

“You want me?” he asks, pulling your panties to the side. You nod hurriedly.

“Please,” you whisper, hips wiggling — which makes him laugh, which makes you laugh, and then you look at the marshmallows on the counter and it’s space plastic all over again. Giggles and kisses while he gets ready to ease into you and put you both to bed exhausted.

“I hope the aliens don’t come,” you murmur between sloppy pecks, “For the space plastic.”

The light in the kitchen gets bright, bright, bright, “We’re getting abducted babe.”

“What’re you talking about?” Steve’s annoyed voice echos from the other end of the room, “You guys are being so loud.”

You and Eddie separate like embarrassed high schoolers who got caught kissing behind the bleachers. Like dad walked in on something he shouldn’t have.

“Sorry, Harrington,” Eddie smirks, “We were just—”

“Getting water!” you interrupt.

“Yeah I see that,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms, “It’s all over the floor.”

He’s not wrong, it is, the two of you looking at the tile like kids who are definitely in trouble.

“We’ll clean it up Steve, sorry,” Eddie assures, much more apologetic now.

“Just — go to bed guys,” he sighs, “Or I’m making you sleep in separate rooms next time.”

When he leaves you both toss each other a look, mocking Steve’s exasperated face with another silent outbreak of breathy giggles. After wiping up the water, you put away the snacks together and click the light off, settling back down in the pull out couch under the covers. The high now holding you down in a cozy grip, making your eyes lull and your breaths slow.

“M’sleepy,” you whisper under the crisp sheets.

“Me too,” he nods, intertwining his limbs with yours like he does every night. Curly hair creeping onto your face while he settles his head in the crook of your neck, “But babe?”

“Yeah?” you ask into the quiet of the room, eyes closed, sleep pulling you further and further away.

“M’gonna rail you when we get home tomorrow,” he mutters, half asleep.

“M’kay,” you nod, “Thass—that sounds good. I like that. I’ll get us a ticket.”

“Hm?”

“For the rail…for the railroad.”

“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road,” he sings quietly.

“All the live long day…” you both harmonize, more giggles, sleepy giggles.

“I’ve been workin’ on the rail road, just to pass the time away…”

“Guys,” Steve’s sharp whisper calls from the stairs, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Steve,” you mumble in unison, singing the song in quiet whispers — falling asleep before you even make it to the end.

[spaceagebachelormann]

i stay true to my word chat

hcs for pre-crash gf!lottie who’s obviously RICH RICH but her partner is less privileged

cause we KNOWWW lottie’s the type to spoil

☆ — lottie matthews with a poor partner

✧ masterlist — navigation

✧ carmillas thoughts — lottie they could never make me hate you. my delusional weird freaky (not) secretly wuh luh wuh queen. i wrote this with a fem reader in mind but it can be read as any gender tbh

✧ warnings — none that i’m aware of

very first thing to keep in mind is lottie would absolutely never ever judge you for being less privileged or for anything else

she’s super understanding of everything and will always step in to help out with things if needed, even if you don’t ask

if you needed extra money but felt horrible for asking i promise you she does not care, she’s 100% said she has enough money for the both of you

your parents probably love her because the second she has even an inkling there’s not enough money she just happens to casually leave some at your house while she’s there or she takes you shopping and just happens to buy things your family needs

also please let her spoil you i know she’d want to so bad

would ask you shopping at least twice a month and if you’re like “lottie i don’t have enough money” she’s like “it’s okay girl i got you”

type of gf to stand outside the change rooms and wait for you (would 100% wanna see, please show them to her)

she’s also veryyyy good at telling what will look amazing on you vs what wouldn’t, but is really good with being subtle about it

like if you were looking at something she’d be like “oh this is cute!” and drag you across the store

i just know this diva also randomly shows up at your house with things she thinks you might need

she genuinely acts as if it’s not a problem (it’s not. she does not care if your wealthy) and is honestly more than happy to get you and your family whatever you might need no matter what it is

god forbid someone says anything about you or your family or literally just anything slightly related to you because she starts tweaking

she herself isn’t a shit talker and is not a violent person, however she is friends with shit talkers and violent people and she does nawt want anyone talking shit about you

she herself doesn’t go too far with like a rumour or something, but the rest of the yellowjackets do because they also love you

she’d be super worried before nationals (if you weren’t coming with her or weren’t on the team) for obvious reasons but she tries not to be overbearing about it

however she definitely leaves you some money just in case it’s needed while she’s away

if you do come with her to nationals for whatever reason she still leaves money for your parents or whoever you live with because she doesn’t want anything to happen to them

she may seem kind of overbearing sometimes, but she doesn’t think any less of you for not being rich like she is and she loves being able to help you

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5

Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.

wc: 6k

warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)

a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.

After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.

The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.

Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.

Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.

"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.

"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."

"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.

You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?

Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.

Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."

"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.

"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.

"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.

"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.

"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.

"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.

"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.

"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.

"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"

"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.

"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.

Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.

"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.

"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.

"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."

It doesn't have to mean anything.

There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.

"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.

"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.

"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.

"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.

𓂃

When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.

In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.

'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'

When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.

"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."

Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.

"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.

"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.

"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.

"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."

𓂃

Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.

"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.

"Stop it–" you brushed him off.

"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.

"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.

𓂃

"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.

"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.

"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."

"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.

He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.

Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.

Until now.

"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.

"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.

𓂃

Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.

"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.

"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.

Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"

"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.

"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.

"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.

"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"

A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.

𓂃

"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.

"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.

"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.

Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.

Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.

While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.

Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.

𓂃

Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.

You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.

"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.

"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.

Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.

There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.

"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.

You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."

"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.

Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.

"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."

The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.

"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."

"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.

"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?

Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?

"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.

"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.

"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.

You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.

"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.

"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.

"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."

You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.

"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.

Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.

He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.

"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.

"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.

Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.

The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.

"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.

The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 

Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.

Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.

What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 

So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.

Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.

The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 

“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 

“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 

This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.

If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 

You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.

“I need some time to think.”

Taglist: @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @meritxellao @cleverzonkwombatsludge @paintedbyshadows @mp-littlebit @rcarbo1 @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @littlepippilongstocking @lorosette @minnieoo @hailqueenconquer @azriels-shadowsinger @blessthepizzaman @chelsiemp @saltedcoffeescotch @thestartitaness @historygeekqueen @sillyfreakfanparty @entr4p3 @warmdragonfly @clementine111002 @azriel-shadowsingerr @amiime @anuttellaa @loulou0101 @acourtofbatboydreams @xmalfoyweasleyx @anna-reader-blog @melmo567 @buttermilktea11 @helo1281917 @thelov3lybookworm @cazrielsfairygf @hanatsuki-hime @st4r-girl-official @feiwelinchen @fhgsvbnh

[unsolicited-opinions]

Bro no one hates jews for ethnicity, news are hated for faith.

If you are an atheist "jew", no one gives a shit about you.

Stop pretending to be a victim and trying to appropriate antisemitic struggles.

I'll address these point by point.

Jewish readers, please share your thoughts!

You wrote: "No one hates Jews for ethnicity, [J]ews are hated for faith."

"Hitler...defined the Jews as a race and not a religious community, characterized the effect of a Jewish presence as a “race-tuberculosis of the peoples,” and identified the initial goal of a German government to be discriminatory legislation against Jews."

[Source]

More here

As David Baddiel put it, "I'm an atheist, but that would get me no free passes out of Auschwitz."

The Jews are a people. Judaism is the traditional religion of that people. A Jew who does not engage with that religion does not cease to be a Jew by Jewish definitions OR by antisemitic definitions.

You wrote: "If you are an atheist Jew, nobody gives a shit about you."

First, see above.

Second, you're incorrectly assuming that a Jewish atheist is not engaged with Judaism.

Here's the thing:

Judaism isn't necessarily theistic.

Let's set aside the explicitly non-theistic movement of Humanistic Judaism for a moment (huge topic for another time) and just talk briefly about theism in Judaism.

Most kinds of Judaism, while certainly encouraging faith, do not require it. There are no thought crimes in Judaism, no crucibles of faith, and no requirements that one announce or perform proof of belief for witnesses. Those things are often parts of Christianity and Islam, but in Judaism...not so much.

In Jewish thought, it is not what you believe about metaphysics which lifts you up, ennobles you, improves you, or makes the world a better place. In Judaism, you pursue those things by how you behave.

Sola fide is a Christian concept which Judaism does not share. Judaism is a profoundly existential religion with ethics which are overwhelmingly humanist.

I was raised in Reform and Conservative congregations...and non-theistic/atheistic/humanistic views were very common there.

When I was studying to become Bar Mitzvah, our congregation's Rabbi made crystal clear to me that there was no contradiction between my identity as a Jew and my inability to swallow the idea of an anthropomorphic, sapient, interventionist God who cared at all about petitionary prayer. He felt that wrestling with God was a very Jewish thing to do. He introduced me to Maimonides' apophatic theology. Decades later, I'm still grateful.

Many Jews pray, I believe, not to be heard by God, but so they can hear their own hearts and minds. This is why kavanah is important and why I disliked (and still dislike) prayer-by-rote and rituals performed for the sake of ritual. It's more mindfulness meditation than petitionary prayer.

There's a famous Hasidic story, recorded by philosopher Martin Buber in his "Tales of the Hasidim," about how Judaism views atheism:

The Master teaches that God created everything the world to be appreciated, since everything is here to teach us a lesson.

One clever student asks "What lesson can we learn from atheists? Why did God create them?"

The Master responds "God created atheists teach us the most important lesson of them all- the lesson of true compassion. You see, when an atheist performs an act of charity, visits someone who is sick, helps someone in need, and cares for the world, he is not doing so because of some religious teaching. He does not believe that God commanded him to perform this act. In fact, he does not believe in Goda at all, so his acts are based on an inner sense of morality. And look at the kindness he can bestow upon others simply because he feels it to be right."

"This means," the Master continued "that when someone reaches out to you for help, you should never say 'I pray that God will help you.' Instead for the moment, you should become an atheist, imagine that there is no God who can help, and say 'I will help you."

You wrote: "Stop pretending to be a victim and trying to appropriate antisemtic struggles."

I invite other Jews to advise if I have appropriated anything which is not mine.

Your opinion, though? Your view, as a non-Jew, about what is or isn't Jewish? On what is or is not mine in my heritage? Your claim, framed by your obvious and absolute ignorance of my life, my family's history, Jewish history, Jewish theology, and Jewish philosophy, that I have not experienced antisemitism and am "appropriating?"

I don't have a single fuck to give about any of that, and neither does any other Jew

Still, thank you for the writing prompt. It helps to crystalize my own thinking and provides an opportunity to educate.

[this-is-tiny-mia]

Reply All (H.S. Fic) | Chapter 2

General Masterlist uni!harry x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry were childhood best friends, inseparable through every laugh, secret, and growing pain. But high school brought unspoken feelings and decisions that tore them apart, leaving both with unanswered questions. Years later, a class project challenges them to face their shared past and uncover the truths they’ve both been running from. And a wrong click unveils the past and what will be the future.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of betrayal.

Your hands hovered over the keyboard, still staring at the email, torn between slamming the laptop shut or throwing it out the window entirely. The room was too quiet—that kind of quiet that made your thoughts unbearable, every line of Harry’s email replaying over and over in your mind.

You read it once, twice, at least ten times, blinking and rubbing your eyes, hoping it was some weird dream that would disappear if you looked away.

But it didn’t.

There it was: the email, glaring at you, with everyone’s email address in the recipient field.

The furious sound of the door bursting open snapped you out of your daze. Your eyes darted to Juliet, standing in the doorway, phone clutched in her hand, her face mirroring your shock and disbelief.

“Holy—” she started.

“Shit,” you finished.

Juliet rushed over, peering at your laptop, her jaw dropping as she confirmed what she’d already seen on her phone. “Oh my god. It’s real. The whole class—the entire 22 students—got this?”

You nodded numbly, closing the laptop with a sharp snap. “What’s happening? What is this? Is he... mocking me or something?” Your voice cracked as your thoughts spiraled a thousand miles a second.

Juliet stared at you “Mocking you? Y/N, he didn’t even mean to send it to you! Or anyone! This was a huge, accidental, disastrous mistake.” She paused “And that’s the thing—it’s raw. It’s real. It’s...” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s tragic and romantic and messy, just like the two of you.” She was too dramatic for her own good, maybe that’s why she chose literature and just maybe that’s why her name suited her so well.

“It’s mortifying!” you shot back, standing up abruptly and pacing the room. “It’s embarrassing! It’s—” Your hands gestured wildly in the air. “It’s a lie! That’s what it is!”

Juliet folded her arms, watching you wear a path into the carpet. “You think it’s a lie? After that email? Y/N, come on. No one writes something that vulnerable if it isn’t true. And they definitely don’t send it to the entire class by accident if they’re not losing their mind over it.”

You stopped mid-pace, running a hand through your hair, your emotions a swirling mix of anger, confusion, and something you weren’t quite ready to name.

Juliet watched you pace, her expression softening. “Y/N, it’s not a lie. Come on, you read the same thing I did. That wasn’t just some random excuse or a joke. That was real. Like... the kind of real people don’t just write down unless they mean it.”

“How can you be so sure? He’s barely spoken to me in years, Juliet. He’s ignored me, avoided me—he doesn’t get to just... just drop something like this and expect me to believe it.”

Juliet sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against your desk. “Maybe he doesn’t expect you to believe it. Maybe he doesn’t even expect you to read it. Hell, he probably wishes the ground would swallow him whole right now. But, Y/N... he wrote it. And that’s gotta count for something.”

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “What am I supposed to do? Ask why he thinks writing about me like I’m his tragic love story is okay?”

Juliet’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I mean, that’s one option. Or, you know, you could just talk to him. Like two grown adults. Maybe figure out why he felt the need to pour his heart out in the middle of a class project.”

You shook your head, resuming your pacing. “It’s not that simple. If I talk to him, it’s like... I’m acknowledging it. Acknowledging him. And after everything, I don’t think I can do that.”

Juliet walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to stop moving and look at her. “You don’t have to figure this out right now. But, Y/N, don’t let this sit and fester. You owe it to yourself to at least try to understand what’s going on here. Whether you believe it or not, Harry just handed you a piece of himself”

Her words lingered in the air as she stepped back, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. The email, now closed behind the laptop, felt like it was still burning into your mind. You weren’t sure what your next move would be, but one thing was certain—you couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.

🌷

The week was quiet. Too quiet.

You barely saw Harry around campus, and when you did, he seemed to be actively avoiding your gaze. His usual confident stride looked hesitant, shoulders slumped, as though the weight of his email disaster had physically manifested on his back.

Not that you cared.

At least that’s what you told yourself every time Juliet glanced at you with an arched brow, her unspoken words hanging in the air.

You, on the other hand, were drowning in your own thoughts. The email replayed in your head in snippets—his words, the tone, the rawness. It was like a broken record you couldn’t stop, even when you desperately wanted to. The anger in you simmered, hot and unrelenting, blocking out any other emotion trying to creep in.

Friday arrived, and so did the storytelling class.

You had spent the entire week doing everything possible to avoid Harry.  But as the day approached, the dread of sitting in the same room as him grew too overwhelming to ignore. You told yourself you weren’t going—not because you were scared or unsure, but because you simply weren’t ready.

But Juliet had other plans.

“Y/N, get up. You’re going,” Juliet said firmly, standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed.

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. “I’m not going, Juliet. I don’t have a story ready, and I’m not ready to deal with…him.”

“That’s exactly why you need to go,” she replied, yanking the blanket off with zero remorse. “You can’t avoid him forever, and skipping class isn’t going to solve anything.”

“Watch me,” you muttered, curling into a ball.

Juliet rolled her eyes “Listen, Y/N. Do you think he’s going to magically disappear? Or that ignoring this will make it less messy? No. What you need is closure. And maybe... maybe you’ll find it in that classroom. Or at least you’ll hear what he has to say. He’s probably dying to explain himsel”

She was right, ignoring it wouldn’t make it less messy, but maybe you wanted to believe he was going to dissapear

“Look, just come with me,” Juliet said, softening her tone. “You don’t even have to talk to him. Just sit in the back, pretend he doesn’t exist. But please, don’t let him take this class—or your peace of mind—from you.”

She got a point.

With a sigh you got out of bed. “Fine”

Juliet grinned, tossing you your bag.

🌷

The classroom was unusually loud when you arrived, but the moment you stepped in, the noise died down, replaced by the tension of stares. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what they were thinking. Of course, they still remembered the email—how could they not? It was the freshest gossip on campus, a dramatic story for everyone but you. For you, it was a mess.

Juliet gave you a reassuring nudge as you walked past rows of desks, guiding you toward an empty seat in the middle. "Ignore them," she whispered.

You tried to focus on her words and not on him. But there he was, sitting in the back corner of the room besides Noah. At least Noah accepted his offer. His face was unreadable as his eyes followed your every move. You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head as you slid into the seat next to Juliet.

"Just breathe," Juliet murmured, pulling out her notebook. You mirrored her movements, pretending to organize your things as if your heart wasn’t racing out of control.

The minutes dragged on. Conversations around the room resumed, but you couldn’t hear them over the rush of blood in your ears. The weight of his gaze never wavered, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

And then, his voice broke through the noise.

“Juliet, can we switch seats for a minute?”

Your entire body froze. Juliet looked at you, then back at Harry, her expression shifting between surprise and excitement.

“Um...” Juliet hesitated, glancing at you for guidance.

You swallowed hard, staring straight ahead, willing her not to move. But Juliet, being Juliet, wasn’t one to back down from a dramatic moment.

“Why?” she asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

Harry sighed “Please?”

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t even look at Juliet, but why? you swore you didn’t want to talk to him, hell you were avoiding him all week, so why weren’t you running away, why did your legs decide to stay still, Why?

“Fine. Take it,” she said, stepping aside and shooting you a look.

Harry slid into the seat beside you, his presence immediately overwhelming. He didn’t say anything at first, and neither did you. The silence stretched between you, filled with unspoken words and years of unresolved tension.

Harry took a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he started speaking. "Look, I know you don’t want to hear anything I have to say"

Then why are you here? you thought.

You kept your eyes fixed on the notebook in front of you, your hand frozen mid-scribble.

"I didn’t mean for the email to happen like that," he continued "I was trying to send it to Noah—just Noah—and I don’t even know how I messed it up so badly. But I know that doesn’t matter. It’s out there now, and... and I’m sorry."

He hesitated, waiting for a response. You didn’t give him one.

"I know it probably made you feel a million things—angry, embarrassed, hurt... and you have every right to feel all of that. I would, too."

Your grip on the pen tightened, but you didn’t look at him.

"I wasn’t trying to drag you into this, Y/N. I swear I wasn’t. I just—" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was selfish. I was trying to make sense of something I’ve been too much of a coward to deal with for years. And now... now I’ve made it even worse."

You stayed silent, your pen hovering over the page, unmoving.

"And I know you probably hate me for it," he said quietly, almost to himself. "For everything I did back then, for the way I acted... and for now. I get it. I’d hate me too."

Still, you didn’t speak.

Harry exhaled slowly, as if trying to release some of the weight pressing on him. "I just wanted you to know I’m sorry, okay? For all of it. Even if you never talk to me again, even if this ruins everything even more than it already is... I needed you to know that."

He sat back in his chair, letting the silence between you stretch. But you still didn’t move, didn’t speak. And eventually, he stopped trying.

“Or maybe even if you want an explanation for everything, your friend Juliet probably knows where to find me,” he said, standing up and leaving again for his seat.

No, I know where to find you, you thought again.

🌷

After Harry's words echoed in your mind, you couldn't shake the way he had spoken to you—so raw, so regretful, yet so distant. The days following his apology felt like an eternity of silence, and yet your mind wouldn't stop replaying that moment over and over. The way he had stood there, the vulnerability in his eyes, and the quiet weight of his apology that lingered in the air. The words themselves had been heavy, but the silence afterward was even worse. You didn’t talk to Juliet about it. Instead, you spent hours lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened—what you had said, what he had said, and where everything had gone so terribly wrong. Was he really sorry? Did it even matter? You had asked yourself all the same questions a thousand times, but nothing seemed to have an answer.

That’s when it hit you: If you were ever going to move on, if you were ever going to understand anything, you had to do something about it. You had to go to him. Not for closure, not for anything grand or meaningful—but for yourself. Maybe Tragic Juliet was right all along.

So, when Friday arrived, you decided to go.

The campus was busy, students chatting and hurrying to their next destinations, but you weren’t really seeing any of it. You only had one destination in mind. You found yourself walking toward a secluded spot near his dorm. It was tucked away between the larger buildings, a quiet little hall filled with nature—a place you had seen him before, reading, writing, or drinking something late at night. Even if you didn’t want to, your mind couldn’t help but remember that.

And there he was, sitting at the only table there, his head down, focused on something—his phone, a textbook, you couldn’t tell. But he was there. Just like you knew he would be.

For a moment, everything felt suspended in time.

Harry didn’t look up at first, but when he did, his eyes widened slightly. The moment your gazes locked, everything about the past few days seemed to crash together in an overwhelming rush.

“Y/N, I…” he began, standing up immediately.

You crossed the room, your pulse racing, and stopped just a few feet in front of him, interrupting him. “Five minutes, and that’s all I’m g….”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. He sounded brave. “I can’t say what I want to say in five minutes, and you know it. Look, if you really want to hear me out, if you’re really willing to give me a chance to talk, I’m starting by telling you the truth. I need more than five minutes.”

And he was right. almost half a life of mess needed more than ten minutes.

“Fine…” you said, taking the seat in front of him, but he stood still “aren’t you going to sit down?”

“I was about to” he said faking he wasn’t just there stupidly shocked that this was actually happening

For a brief moment, that small exchange felt oddly normal, as if everything between you was okay again. Maybe, just maybe, the spark hadn’t completely disappeared.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself.

“We were in Year 10 when I decided to... screw everything up, basically. But this started way back in Year 8 or 9. Something like that.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know what I was feeling, but every time I saw you walking through the school doors, it felt like I was the luckiest guy alive. And this isn’t some cheesy love confession—it’s the truth. I was confused. I was excited. But I was also terrified.”

He took a sip of water, his hands trembling slightly. You didn’t say a word, just kept looking at him, trying to process every sentence as it came.

“And yeah, it’s so fucking cliché. Best friends falling in love. Good job, Harry,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I had the best years of school with you, and I didn’t want to ruin it over... a crush. I thought I could just shove it down, bury it, and stay your best friend. But the longer I stayed close to you, the harder it became to pretend. I thought I could get rid of those feelings if I just... distanced myself. But that backfired. Completely.”

He exhaled shakily and continued, his voice softer now. “The more I pulled away, the more I wanted you. And by the time I realized how much I’d messed up, it was too late. I wasn’t there when Zack broke up with you. I wasn’t there when you had that breakdown during P.E. I wasn’t there when we threw our graduation caps in the air—like we promised we’d do together. I missed everything, Y/N. Everything.”

His words twisted in your chest, each one hitting harder than the last. He knew exactly where he had been absent—every moment you had felt his absence, even the ones you hadn’t consciously remembered.

“And it sounds so childish, so immature,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But I promised you the truth, and there it is. I swear, I didn’t look at your applications. I didn’t even try to end up in the same class as you. But somehow, it happened. And I told myself that if we crossed paths again, I’d let you feel whatever you needed to feel. If you wanted to yell at me, hit me, hate me—I’d take it. I deserved it.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “And then I screwed that up too. Who even invented the ‘Reply All’ button? Why the hell would anyone need to reply to everyone?!” His voice grew more frustrated, and for a moment, it felt like he was arguing with himself, replaying the past week in his head.

“I’ve messed up more times than I can count,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “Even when I picked you for the project. I thought I could be subtle, keep it under the radar so no one would notice. But instead, I did the complete opposite...And th..”

It wasn’t just an apology anymore—it felt like he was punishing himself, listing every mistake, every failure, every regret.

“Stop,” you said firmly, not out of anger but concern.

He froze, his breathing heavy. 

“Sorry,” he said, exhaling like the weight of the last few days had finally caught up to him.

“I think that’s enough,” you said, standing up.

“No, it’s not enough,” he said quickly, following your movement. “I still need to—”

“It’s enough, Harry.” Your tone was calm but resolute. The seriousness in your eyes made him stop.

He held up his hands in surrender, letting out a heavy sigh. “Okay,” he said quietly, almost defeated. Harry had never pushed—not back then, and not now.

PART 3

Taglist: @hermionelove @mads3502 @cherryloveshs @harrystyleshotwife @familyshow-orisit @fadingcherryblossomblaze @lunaharrygurl @gem1712 @millsadoresyou

[asbealthgn]

wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post

It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.

It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”

Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.

Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—

“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”

“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.

Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 

Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”

Eddie deflates.

“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”

Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”

“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”

“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”

“Together? Like…together how?”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”

Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It’s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.

“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.

Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”

That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 

“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”

“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”

“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”

Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”

Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.

After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”

Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”

“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”

Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.

For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”

“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”

Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”

“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”

Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”

“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”

“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.

Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”

“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”

He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 

And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.

[lumi-waxes-poetic]

re: the Neil Gaiman shit

In light of recent revelations, it is very likely you or someone in your circle is seriously rethinking their relationship to Neil Gaiman's books.

That's perfectly natural. But if I might offer a word of advice (which of course you may do what you like with, I'm not god)?

If his books ever meant something to you growing up, and some part of you, no matter how small, refuses to let them go? That's okay. Don't devalue or burn cherished things just because the Author is a Horrible Person.

God only knows that if that were the requirement, we'd have little left to enjoy in the world.

If you feel the need to have a reckoning with your bookshelf, do not let my words stop you. Keep or discard his books at your own recognizance. Just remember that he is merely the author of these books: he is not the books themselves. If ever his books communicated something Good and True to you, do not feel pressured to throw that Good and True thing away just because the source was less good than you thought it was.

Despite his(overwhelmingly probable) guilt, Neil is ALSO one of the genuinely best writers we've had in DECADES. This will understandably complicate his legacy. As much as we like things to be simple, people are often multiple things simultaneously, and we often will dislike or even hate some of those things.

Was Neil being a hypocrite when he supported feminist and LGBTQIA+ causes while also being a huge... <gestures to all the allegations>? Very definitely. But I don't want to see the genuine strides his support helped make possible fall away just because his hypocrisy was revealed. I don't want to see people ignore or undermine the frankly EXCELLENT MESSAGES in a lot of his books just because the author didn't live up to the standards he wrote about.

This isn't about absolving Neil in the slightest. I hope he gets whatever justice he's due. But don't punish yourself arbitrarily for it. If you have decided that now is the time to move on from his books forever, I don't blame you. If you decide to keep reading his books and they inspire you to be a better person than him, that's just as awesome. Spite that sunnuvabitch with his own works.

It is my hope that people can and will continue to enjoy his stories, and take home from them some excellent messages, long after he faces justice for his actions as a person. He wouldn't be the first author whose works were forgiven long after his personal harms were done; literary history is replete with such individuals -- Lord Byron, Virginia Woolfe, Robert E. Howard, Ernest Hemingway, Ezra Pound, Vladimir Nabokov, etc. The list goes on and on for as long as one wishes to peruse it. Their problematic acts as people cannot and should not be ignored, but neither can nor should their works. Perhaps Neil Gaiman is in good company, then, as we add his name to that list. A brilliant author, with brilliant works to his name, but a far less than brilliant man.

Only you can decide how your relationship with the books you have read will work out. You alone have the power to determine what authors you read and whose works shall adorn your bookshelves.

Don't let the crowd tell you what you're allowed to read, but perhaps don't discount the crowd's opinion out of hand on this one either. They do, after all, have a point.

[ayselluna]

Ascendant Astarion Recommendations!

I'm a fan of both Spawn and Ascendant Astarion so I do enjoy reading both. But if you want to explore and read some good shit~ Ascendant fics well here you go~

I've read a lot so bear with me, These are my TOPS~

I LOVE ALL OF THESE:

A Gift, A Curse by @elemit - This updates daily most of the time, the author is getting busy IRL but it should be back on a daily update again soon I think. This is one of the darker theme of Ascendant Astarion "50 shades of 'FCKNG LITTLE TWAT' Ancunin" as one of the comment says haha some scenes are "traumatic" but the rollercoaster ride of emotions you'll get on this story is one for the books! ONGOING!

Fangs and Fractured Hearts - by @fangsandfracturedhearts - This one's one of the softer sides of the Ascendant, the dynamic of Tav and Astarion here is exquisite! The cliffhanger on this one just uggghhhhh. i love it!! ONGOING!

Hellish Rebuke by @bludazey this one's a classic! the details on this story is so genius I swear. Also I think a lot of Astarion fanfic writers got inspired with the Devil's dealing here. Also Tav here is effing smart and just chef's kiss! such a great heroine! ONGOING!

His Star - His Queen [Originally titled Across Stars and Time] by ARandomIntrovert - Now this a bit different, What if multiverse exists? Now there's two Astarions fighting over you, Spawn VS Ascendant, where do you think this would go? :)) Story's definitely amazing and unique! I easily got invested. haha ONGOING!

In Another Life by @locallegume - Definitely a softer side of the Ascendant but Tav and Astarion's dynamic here is one of my fave! <3 Tav here is not the overly good role model we usually read, she's troubled too and definitely has effed up issues. but sometimes you just need to find your own freak and be together forever. ONGOING!

Pieces Still Stuck In Your Teeth - by @howlsmovinglibrary / @wetcatspellcaster - The amount of Banter and D&D Lore on this one is superb! you have to watch out for the writer's notes! I love how I get to learn more D&D stuff and godssss how many times I almost got so swayed by the Ascendant here! good thing Tav's so good at bantering haha ONGOING!

Remember ye not the former things by @brabblesblog - THE SEQUEL!! It focuses more on the aftermath and them working out their relationship, a lot more TAV bg story but gods, Astarion here , I just want to smother him with cuddles and kisses, TAKE MEEEEE ONGOING!

Whither is thy beloved gone? by @brabblesblog -

It has a sequel!!! - that's how good it is! <3 also The Ascendant here is my favorite! The confrontations are just so real and so true I caaaaan't. He wrote the Ascendant so good I actually sided with him more than Tav! A lot of smut ngl but I got into the characters more that I should have. you're missing out if you haven't read this. COMPLETED!

Most of these are still ongoing but I am updated w/ each, along with other Spawn Astarion fics :)) They are all good! some more soft than the others, some darker and evil :))

Let me know if you guys want to get some Spawn Astarion fics recommendations!

[cumulo-ghoulll]

Frater Imperator HC

(he hates Perpetua's album)

Peacefield

"Alright, Aether, I'm going to listen to this hyped up shit!"

"Alrighty, what's this first one? Peacefield? Sounds dreadful already."

*choir starts* "wait, i recognise that voice. IS THAT SALEM JR? WHAT A LITTLE SNAKE! I GAVE HIM RAVIOLI ON HIS 10TH BIRTHDAY AND THIS IS HOW HE REPAYS ME? BY SINGING ON MY BROTHER'S SHITTY ALBUM?"

"It is his job, C. He is the clergy choir's best soprano."

"I DO NOT CARE AETHER! WHY HAS THE WHOLE JUNIOR CHOIR STABBED ME IN THE BACK??"

"It is literally their job. I don't know what to tell you, Papa . . ."

*first verse starts* "'its not over yet'? What a shame, my ears are bleeding already. 'this is what dreams are made of'? more like nightmares! amiright Aeth? Hehehe!

*chorus* "'a black moon over the peacefield'? Aether! He copied my song! This is a blatant forgery of Hunter's Moon! He just changed the type of moon! See, he can't even write an original song!"

"Papa, it's not theft just because he mentioned a moon? Primo sang, 'a moon shone bright above her trial' in Stand By Him, and Secondo sang, 'the moon is full and shines an evil, blinding light' so they could say you copied them!"

"Whose side are you on, Aether?"

"The guitar solo's good, I guess."

"And the keyboard solo."

"Basically, any part where that fucking V isn't singing is good."

"Ah, finally! The outro! Almost done, thank the dark lord!"

"Bit repetitive hey, Aeth?"

"Quite catchy though, Papa?"

"Whose side are you on, Aether? Seriously?"

Lachryma

"Hmmm, the intro is okay. I guess."

"'like a vampire should ' you know he's not a vampire, right? He's just some poser who thinks he's a Dracula! Unbelievable.

"Copia, do you not also remember your vampire phase during Prequelle?"

"Whose side are you on? I was a better vampire anyway."

"'i can never run and i cannot hide' i wish he would run and hide so i didn't have to see his face again. Hmmph."

"'im done crying' what a whiny loser! I can't stand this guy, how do the fans even like him? All he does is complain!"

"'over someone like you' ME? OH HE SO WROTE THIS ABOUT ME! AETHER CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS GUY?? GET OVER YOURSELF."

"I don't think he wrote about you in particular, C . . ."

"He definitely did, who else could it possibly about? It's not like he has any friends or anything."

"'im done!' Thank Satan, it's finally over! 2 down, 8 more to go. Lord give me strength."

Satanized

"' There's something inside me' hehe yea right! That loser's never had anything inside of him! The V in his name stands for virgin!"

"I don't think that's what he means, C"

"Who's side are you on, Aether."

"'I should have known not to give in' he should have known not to release this shitty album!

"'Im satanized!' I'm getting a headache, never mind getting satanized!"

"You have to admit, it's a pretty good song though!"

"It's alright. Obviously, if I sang it, it would sound heaps better but I guess it's fine."

"Wait a minute. IS THAT CORINTHIANS 6:19?? WHY WOULD HE PUT SUCH WORDS INTO A SONG ABOUT OUR DARK MASTER? WHO LET HIM RELEASE THIS SONG? IT HURTS! IT'S BURNING MY EARS!"

"I can't believe this guy! How have the siblings of sin been singing this song all week when it has such heinous lyrics!"

"'I have begged God for the remedy' there's no way this guy is a true Emeritus! Why is he singing about our Dark Lord's enemy?"

"You do realise he's not singing in first person, right? He's singing from the perspective of the monk in the music video? You did know that right?"

"Seriously, whose side are you on Aether?"

Guiding Lights

"Ah, so this is meant to be the one to make me cry, huh? Well, not a single tear shall fall my eye, Aether! Not a single one!"

"Oh yeah, of course, couldn't make me cry either!" *already wiping a tear from his eye*

"Who even likes sad songs away? I never wrote any, and that why people love me! I'm always happy, me!"

"Life Eternal? Darkness At The Heart Of My Love? Some could even argue the end of Respite On The Spitalfields is sad at the end. . ."

"What even are these lyrics? 'the road that leads to nowhere is long'? How creative!"

"The guitar solo is pretty good, I'll give him that. It's only because Dew's playing it. Even if V wrote it, i dont care."

De Profundis Borealis

"Damn this ones good, eh C?"

"It's okay, I guess. Would you stop tapping your foot? You're getting too into it, it's not that good!"

"You have to admit, it is quite catchy!"

"Seriously, Aether? Whose side are you on??"

"'And a glow within you dies' I wish the glow inside him would die so he'd step down and i could be frontman again."

"Is Mountain not exhausted? This sounds really repetitive for him? Someone needs to write my poor ghouls some better parts."

"Mount told me he had a whale of a time recording this one. The whole pack really like this one apparently!"

"Oh great! So they're all turning their back on me, huh?"

"It is quite fun to play."

"You've learned it already? Traitor!"

"Phantom gave me the tabs! I couldn't help but learn it!"

"Ugh, finally, we're at the end. Wait. IS THAT THE SENIOR CHOIR?? WHY HAS HE TAKEN BOTH THE JUNIOR AND SENIOR CHOIR FROM ME?? WHAT'S NEXT?? THE GHOUL CHOIR??"

"You do realise that the choirs are legally obligated to perform on an album if asked, they don't just sing at mass, C"

"WHAT THE HELL?!?!"

Cenotaph

"It's very jovial for a sad song, huh?"

"Just be quiet, Copia."

(*Copia and Aether sit and cry quietly to this, processing their own grief*)

Missilia Amori

"Ooh, this one will cheer you up, C!"

"I wasn't crying! I just had some dust, um hayfever. It's hayfever season isn't it? Some pollen just made my eyes itch, y'know?"

"'So you want out now, don't you, love?' Damn, so dramatic."

"Someone's obviously broken his heart . . ."

"Hehe what a loser, can't even hold down a relationship!"

"It's a good breakup song though, don't you think?"

"hmm I guess. Damn! I should have written a breakup song!"

"It's a bit late for that now, C"

"Don't remind me, Aeth!!"

"'excite me with your demise' ha yeah! That's what I'm saying! When can we get rid of this loser, eh?"

"'a man of faith is hard to find' well if he wants a good Satanist boyfriend he has the whole of the ministry to pick from . . ."

"C, i dont think thats what he meant. Also, he can't even get in the door."

"I may have locked him out on purpose. . ."

"'you showed me yours, I'll show you mine' what a pervert! Unbelievable, who even is this guy! He's only been on tour for less than a week and he's already too big for his stupid little boots!"

Marks Of The Evil One

"'Rides a steed, white' HES TALKING ABOUT MY HORSE, DEATH! I swear to Satan, if he's taken him on tour or for a stupid music video I'm going to go insane!"

"Death is still in his stable, I literally saw Cumulus sat with him this morning. Also, I think he's talking about the four horsemen, so the first one is Conquest, right?"

"'The fourth rider is Death, rides a steed, pale' well at least my horse got a mention.

"'the marks are spreading everywhere!' eww sounds like he's got a type of a disease. . . what a loser!

"I quite like this one actually, C!"

"Seriously, Aether! Whose side are you on??"

*singing along* "there! there! disciples of the evil one!"

"Okay! okay! It's not THAT good!"

"The guitar solos pretty good . . . again."

"V's pretty good at writing guitar solos, eh?"

"yeah well I could do better but, y'know, it's not bad for a beginner, I guess . . ."

"I like his voice in this one, it's a really catchy song, don't you think?"

"He sounds like a cat with the flu to me but sure . . ."

Umbra

"Ooh this one's gonna be good! I've heard people say it's the next Mummy Dust!"

"hmmm its okay . . . IS THAT A COWBELL?? IS COWBELL GHOUL BACK?"

"Yeah he came back from Scotland to play for the recording. Did you not see him around the other week?"

"Oh so not only is this fucking V taking my ghouls, my choir, my fans, my clothes, my songs, he's taking Terzo's ghoul too!! Next he'll want my rats! Unbelievable!!"

"'I put my love in you' ugh what a slut!"

"Shouldn't you be happy about that, Cardi? He is promoting lust to the masses?"

"Well yes but I hate it!"

"You can't hate something just because you're brother made it!"

"Yes I can! And I will!"

"Damn Cirrus and Dew going wild! At least the ghouls sound good! Can't say the same for fucking V!"

"There's so much cowbell!"

"I know! Isn't it awesome?!"

"Alright, alright, Aether. Just remember whose side you're on."

"this one's going on the gay sex playlist."

"What?"

"nothing."

Excelsis

"'it is the end' THANK THE LORD!

'"its the end of your sadness and pain' well it will be when this song's finally finished"

"'everybody leaves one day' Copia, just sit and listen to this one. I think you need to hear it."

*Copia silently cries through the rest of the song*

"'I am afraid of eternity, too.' You alright, C?"

"ahuh, hyeah. yup. just a little dust in my eye. damn hayfever again. *sniff*

"what do you rate the album out of 10?"

"3. It was shit."

"You cried twice!"

"Okay 6/10. And I didn't cry! I have allergies!"

"Sure."

"My albums were better though, right?"

"Sure, Copia."

[evilminji]

You know what would be HILARIOUS?

For everyone NOT involved in the situation?

If the Uzumaki, mad lads that they were, seal master's who routinely moon the Shinigami for funsies that they are, got SUUUUUPER drunk? And were like?

"F-! *hic!* FUCK your fancy ass Summons contract Himiko! I got one TOO, you know. A..An' it's TOTALLY better then yours! It's got BLACKJACK! And hookers!" *falls on their face unconscious*

Needless to say? Not their proudest moment. Actually, their kinda deeply embarrassed. But like FUCK ARE THE BACKING DOWN! Their mouths wrote a check their ass can't currently cash... so the only REASONABLE solution? Apologize and tell the truth? Psh! NO.

Break Reality Until It's TRUE.

THEN they weren't technically lying!

They're a GENIUS~☆! :D

And yes, yes this IS normal behavior for them. It's both cultural AND genetic. There was a REASON people were terrified of those insane mother fuckers.

Because? They just? MADE UP a A Summons Contract. With Who? Dunno! We're gonna find out! But it looks right Seals wise! *signs name before anyone with sense can stop them, does the signs, draws blood aaaand?*

POOF!

Nani THE FUCK!? Says local dead Japanese 16th century fisherman who was flying by to visit the Lair of his buddy the 14th century monk. Behold! A FUCKING ZONE GHOST! He is unsummoned before he can react.

The Uzumaki have A Ghost Contract™.

.........th....they may have fucked up.

YOU THINK?

Roars basicly the ENTIRE Elders council. Who FUCKING FELT THAT. Because EVERYONE Felt that. They're SENSOR. That was a HOLE in REALITY that somehow GLOWED like a BEACON of both absolute Nothingness and Death! You TRAUMATIZED THE KIDS, YOU ASSHOLE!

Still....they ARE ninja. And Curious mother fuckers to the last.

So basically EVERYONE and their dog signs it. They somehow get WEIRDER. Bigger Chakra reserves. Obsessive tendencies. Meh, you win some, you lose some.

But? Then they fuckin DIE. (And their WHOLE ASS VILLAGE SHOWS UP IN THE ZONE. OH GOD, WHAT-!?)

And some grave robbing fuck tries to use the Contract. SUPRISE MOTHERFUCKER!

Ghost Uzumaki!

Your literal worst nightmare!

They DO NOT try using it again. It gets sealed DEEP. Until the Hokage gets wind of it. And, of course, Danzo. The Hokage sends Hound. And Team Kakashi on a completely unrelated but nearby "help a farmer" mission. Danzo sends assassins. Because he's fucking awful.

Kakashi gets the scroll.

Yep. Creepy rambling and shit handwriting, def Uzumaki. Time to go.

He gets attacked on the way back to camp. GDI Root. Well, its you or me. Sucks for you, I guess. They fight. They get a lucky shot. He bleeds on the scroll, doesn't notice. But SURELY... SURELY it isn't CROWDED enough with names that the Uzumaki just added a "and anyone who bleeds on THIS part at the bottom _______ plus does the handsigns" towards the end.... RIGHT??

RIGHT?! Look him in the EYES Uzumaki Clan, RIGHT??!

They would prefer not to answer that. The Vibez here are getting REALLY aggressive, you know? >.> It made sense at THE TIME...

So... he goes to summon his Dogs.

And he SURE DOES GET UM.... plus One(1!!!).

Who the FUCK is this glowing green dog? A puppy? Kakashi seeing the dimwitted looking little thing about to get STABBED tries to rescue it. It takes one look look at him (worried for it), the other dogs (growling at his enemies, fighting) and... turns around, shifting as it does, to HUNDREDS of times it's previous size.

Like an Akimichi transformation.

A sudden, hulking, green WOLF with red glowing eyes and killing intent that would Rival a demon's. The howl is unearthly. It joins the fray like a meat thresher.

Then pops back to a floating, tongue lolling, dimwitted pup the second everything is done.

G...God boy?

Far be it for KAKASHI to fear a dog, no MATTER how dangerous. So he carries it back to camp. Where it seems to instant fall in LOVE with Naruto. They become the BEST of friends.

There's frolicking.

Looking down at the pocket with the scroll he reclaimed? Yeah. Yeah that tracks. According to Pakkun, the pup has a "weird, echo-y" accent and is incredibly scatter brained. Training to be a gaurd dog? WAS Training. IS currently... what.

Okay. IS currently the gaurd dog/pet of an Emperor. Because THATS not alarming. Did the Royal family all... wait... he examines the pup again. Transparent. Was it KILLING intent he felt... or a Deathy pressure? Didn't the Uzumaki have Forbidden soul and death seals? It would stand to REASON...

Oh god damn it.

Pakkun. Pakkun please tell me that pup is ALIVE.

(He can not.) (Hilariously? Dispite being TERRIFIED of Ghosts? Naruto is TOTALLY COOL with Zone Ghosts? Don't be MEAN, Sensei! They're just PEOPLE! It's not THEIR fault They're dead! Now GHOSTS? Spooky and EVIL! Totally different.)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay

[ackerlikesmen]

In my feelings again

You all know I love Percy getting princess treatment and being loved and protected. Seeing one who’s been through shit but still standing? Someone get him a chair, ice cream, and cuddles. 

I understand the boy is gonna push back and beat his chest, point Riptide at you, even when he's bleeding out and traumatized. He doesn’t like to tell people about his problems. He's gonna be like, "It's only a scratch. Quit worrying!" Then when Apollo (or anyone) shows protectiveness and goes ape shit and wanna beat the shit outta someone who hurts Percy, he gets upset and pushes him away. 

And it got me thinking... again.

It seems to me that Percy pushes away protection and help, not just because he feels small. He had already gone through hell and people making him feel small and worthless. Being made small, feeling helpless, and relying on someone who treats you like shit feels horrible. He doesn't need that again, especially by gods who get off on making others feel small. I understand that, and I feel the same way. “I'm not weak and can handle my own.” 

Another reason is giving control. Again, back to his childhood, he didn’t have autonomy or his own space because of Gabe. I understand that this protectiveness appears ‘controlling,’ he feels stifled, even if that’s not their true intention.

However, I also feel Percy does it because he feels he's not worth it. To him, he doesn't deserve to be cared for like that. Why should anyone do that? Besides, he can handle himself. That's why he's powerful, right? If he can give the gods a run for their money and is the savior to all, including the gods, why the fuck does he need to be protected? It’s a waste of time and makes little sense. Plus, he'll just heal. So, no biggie. 

So, when Apollo, his father, brother, and some of his friends get protective, Percy gets annoyed and pushes them away, especially in Perpollo fics. "I'm not weak. Quit treating me like I'm glass. I've been through shit since I was a kid. I didn't need you then. Why would I need you now? Don't feel sorry for me. Don't you dare feel sorry for me. You may be a god, but I'm not some weak punk. I can handle my shit." I want Apollo to respond this way, but he apologizes or STOPS. Not pauses— STOPS.

Me, reading: *screams internally*

I understand and am happy that he respects Percy’s boundaries and autonomy. Yes, Apollo (or anyone else) has to EARN Percy's trust. It shouldn’t be thrust upon him. 

With that being said, this is what I want Apollo to respond with:

I don’t protect you because I’m a god. Your strength is never in question when I want to embrace you. I do it because I love you. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you stay strong when you're hurting inside pains me. It upsets me you don't think you’re all that. But, baby, you’re worth more than the stars in Olympus.

(I wrote a page paragraph but didn’t want it to be too melodramatic.)

Anyways, *grabs Percy’s face* Strong or not, you’re worth it. Hero or failure, you’re worth it. It’s okay to rely on someone and rest. You may be a hero, but you’re still human, Percy. You still bleed, you still get tired, you still get hurt. You're not weak for wanting someone to hold you and be vulnerable. It’s okay to take breaks. *kisses his forehead* Treat yourself, sweetheart.

Someone save this boy, please!

[justauthoring]

Shoko Just Can't be Right [2]

a series of snapshots of your life with geto and gojo -> this part: what if shoko's convinced and maybe she's just right?

a/n: finally wrote the second part.... hehe.

pairing: satosugu x f!reader, shoko x f!reader

read the other parts here: one - two - three - four - five

-

"There is no way."

"Uh, yes, there is."

Sending Shoko a blank look, you scoff.

But, as per her style, she doesn't relent.

"Y/N," she deadpans, reaching across the desk to take your hands in her own, squeezing them enough to pull your gaze on her's once again. "I say this with complete and utter confidence, they're in love with you."

"Shoko," you call back, mimicking her tone; "they're in love with each other."

"True," she offers with a light shrug. "But also you."

Your mind blanks with the utter disbelief and ridiculousness of it all. "Is that even... possible? I mean, to be in love with two people at once?"

You didn't think so.

"Probably," she shrugs, "I mean with love anything's possible, right?"

And you can tell with the shit-eating grin on her face, she's finding this all too funny. Honestly, if you were on her side of things, you'd probably get a kick out of the whole thing as well but alas, you weren't and it wasn't easy to ignore the crushing of your heart as the hope you're desperately trying to hold back tries to sliver it's way past.

Ugh. Hope. What an entirely stupid and ridiculous--

"They do say that."

Back straightening, every muscle in your body tightens at the sound of Gojo's voice. It was, honestly, the last person you wanted to hear right that second; by default just because it was, well, him, but also because with Gojo, Geto was usually trailing behind...

A glance over your shoulder tells you you're correct.

Just as you thought.

You catch Shoko perking up out of the corner of your eye, and instantly a sense of dread floods you; this cannot be good.

"What are you two talking about?" Geto asks, coming to a stop next to Gojo, hands shoved leasurely into his pocket, brow raised with curiosity.

"Well—"

"Nothing!" You cut in sharply before Shoko can finish, sending her a glare over your shoulder (to which she rolls her eyes), pushing yourself to your feet. "Actually, we should be going because we—"

"Awehhh!" A loud whine cuts you off, eyes flickering over to Gojo whose slumped over dramatically; "but I was hoping you'd wanna hang with us."

Hang with them?

Alone?

That sounds like both a blessing and absolute nightmare. Especially with the thoughts that Shoko has invested in your mind—you could barely look at them now without thinking about her words; they're in love with you. God, why did she have to go around telling you that?

Making you think—for even just a second—that that could ever be true.

Because it wasn't. Obviously.

Geto and Gojo loved each other. That was true. Yes, that had been true since the very first moment you'd laid eyes on the both of them. The last to join them in their first year. The two of them, including Shoko, had already gotten aquainted with one another (some more than others). The three of them had spent four whole months with just them and no one else and had been able to bond.

And then you came in.

Clueless about the jujutsu world and about what a jujutsu sorcerer even was. Your whole world had been turned upside down and you were far outside of your element.

And yet, despite all that, you'd walked into that classroom that day and amongst Gojo's rather cocky greeting, Geto's simple one and Shoko's enthusiastic one (she'd expressed her fondness quite plainly for no longer being the only girl), you'd seen how much Geto and Gojo loved each other.

They were pretty obvious about it, even if at the time neither of them had known about the other's feelings.

So, yes, Shoko couldn't be right. She knew she wasn't saying it all to be mean, she wasn't like that—clearly she'd seen or heard something that had lead her to this incorrect assumption.

Because that's all it was.

An assumption.

One you wouldn't let yourself be swayed by for one second.

"Y/N?"

Blinking, you're pulled from your thoughts with a snap, focusing in on Geto who's leaning down to meet your gaze, concerned, with a baffled Gojo slightly behind him, the both of them looking at you rather intensely.

And, when you turn your head to the right, Shoko's gone.

"Are you okay?"

"Where..." Your words trail, in disbelief.

"Oh," Geto mumbles, pulling back as he realizes where you're looking. "She left for a smoke, said that she didn't mind rescheduling your plans. I do believe she added to the end of it, 'anything to get Gojo to shut up'."

"Hey!"

That sneaky little—

You turn to face both boys, quite honestly dumbstruck.

But then Gojo is shoving his face in yours, grinning; "so? Let's go!"

You sputter; "wh-where?"

-

To a sweets cafe. That's where.

Gojo all but drags you there, ignoring your protest to at least let you change, simply calling over his shoulder that; 'you look adorable!' which absolutely was not true. You hadn't worn your uniform that day since it wasn't a school day, and you and Shoko had had plans to spend the day together campus which had lead you to wear a simple skirt with an oversized sweater over it. You weren't expecting to leave or go out or least of all be going out with both Geto and Gojo or else you would've probably dolled yourself up at least a little.

Which, yes, Gojo's words, albeit simple, did leave you even more flustered, cheeks flushed and stuttering for a response all whilst Geto chuckled lightly behind you, clearly amused to himself.

But both Geto and Gojo are dominating of your time and don't allow you even a second of an escape, chatting your ears off happily whilst Gojo goes to the counter to order an array of sweet, leaving you and Geto to find a table.

You have to admit that the cafe is quite cute and the sweets you'd managed to grab for yourself (with the help of Geto, who promptly slapped Gojo's hand away when he tried to steal one of them) were delicious. Geto had gone back to the counter to order you a drink and although you weren't always used to be with either of them alone, the two of them were chatty enough that you didn't feel awkward or tense with silence.

It wasn't that you didn't get along with them. You did. Despite your rocky first impression of Gojo, you got along with the both of the extremely well.

But that was at school. In class. Or, at the very least, with Shoko. You weren't used to having to fend off the both of them and although you cared for them both greatly, they were both intimidating in different ways.

In ways you weren't.

Shoko always said you were too quiet. Too easy. You said yes to anything someone asked you of and you didn't often argue even if it wasn't something you weren't comfortable with. It had taken Shoko months before you properly opened up to her, but Geto and Gojo were confident and skilled and people seemed to bend over backwards for them just because, well, they were them.

People treated them differently than they treated you because you were quiet where they were loud, nervous where they were confident, and soft where they were hard.

(Little did you know that Geto and Gojo absolutely adored this about you—despite how incredibly self-conscious you were about it yourself).

Still, the day goes on well. And you find yourself rather enjoying their company.

You've all been there for just over an hour when you excuse yourself to the washroom, slipping past Geto in a way that has your cheeks burning red and flustered as you make your way to the ladies room.

It's on your way back that things take a bit of a downward shift.

A firm hand wraps itself around your upper arm, halting you in your tracks and pulling a surprised gasp from your lips as your world is tilted on it's axis briefly.

Then, suddenly, there's a group of boys surrounding you.

"Hey," one of them smiles at you, though it's all cold and no warmth. "Do you go to school around here? Don't think we've seen you before."

"And I think we'd remember a face like yours." Another one pipes up, your head shifting to the right to find him towering over you.

The one on your left steps closer, smirking down at you. "Noticed it as soon as you walked in here," he grins, wide and menacing. His eyes drift across you, low in a way that makes your chest tighten uncomfortably, then back up to your eyes. "You new?"

They're too close.

"N-No," you force out, shaking your head as you try to push them away. "Sorry, my-my friends are—"

"Yeah, those two guys, right?"

A hand falls on your back, and you tense.

"We could show you a far better time, you know?"

"Yeah," a laugh, "why settle for them, when—"

Another hand falls on you. But it's different. Warmer. Familiar.

You're pulled away and tucked against a chest, glancing up to see Geto's familiar figure looming behind you, his gaze threatening but it instantly softens as he glances down at you.

Gojo steps in front of you, blocking you from their view.

"I do believe you're making Y/N uncomfortable," Gojo grounds out and his voice is so unlike anything you've ever heard. It's dark, cruel, all trace of his usual goofiness and teasing gone.

You can't see his face, but if it's anything like Geto's, you're sure the face matches his tone.

"I would fuck off now." Geto growls from behind you, low enough you feel his chest rumble in reaction. "Before we make you."

You don't see it. Geto doesn't let you. But none of the three boys even get a word out before they're scampering off with paled skin and pleading cries of mercy, racing out of the cafe and not sparing another glance back.

What—

Gojo spins to face you and he's grinning, wide and bright, stepping towards you. "Sorry about that darling," he calls out, ruffling your hair. "We got worried when you took a while to come back."

"Should've called for us," Geto mumbles, squeezing your shoulder in a soft, reassuring sort of way. "Let us know you were in trouble."

Gojo's hand falls on your cheek, cupping it, face suddenly serious but not in the same menacing way as before but concerned. "We'll always come when you're in trouble."

Geto nods; "so, don't feel afraid to rely on us."

They're in love with you.

Shoko's word taunt you in the back of your mind, completely stunned by Geto and Gojo as they move to walk, neither of them letting go of you, Geto's hand on your back and Gojo's hand wrapped around yours, leading out of the cafe.

They're close. They still close. Refusing to slip away.

I mean with love anything's possible, right?

Shoko just couldn't be right. She just couldn't...

Could she?

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 2]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Taking place directly after part 1, Beetlejuice and the Reader come to an agreement.

Part 1 // Part 1.5 <- -> Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 //

CW: BJ being a perv of course,

~~~

“Oh my God— You’re real! Like a really real ghost- demon?— poltergeist?”

“I can be whatever you want, babes,” he smiled a gnarly grin at you. Rotten teeth decorating his mouth and cracked lips.

“The lady on TV isn’t a con artist… it’s all been true— HAH! Suck on that, mom!” You pointed into the air. The shock of what was happening suddenly washed over you. Realizing you were genuinely in presence of something no longer alive. And he had been messing with you ever since you moved in.

“So, it’s been you this entire time? I haven’t been losing my mind?”

“Ah— of course not. I couldn’t resist getting the attention of a pretty young thing like you,” he magically had a bouquet of dead flowers in his hand, offering it out to you. You raised a brow, taking the flora from him.

He walked over to your dresser, immediately opening your panty drawer and prowling through it. Droning on as he went through your private clothing, “So I guess this means you’re interested in the Ole Juicester. You sure did sound awfully pretty saying my name three times like that— sorry, gotta grab another one of these,” he held up a pair of your panties, “My other ones got used if you know what I mean— *snort*”

You stomped over, grabbing his arms from your drawer and pulling him away. “You don’t get to just go through my shit because you want to!” He held his hands in front of him in a surrender position. Soft expression looking like you just kicked a puppy.

“Oh come on, babes! You were practically begging for me just a few seconds ago,” he folded his arms over his chest.

“You— you literally wrote your name out in front of me to read it! It’s not like I knew who you were! Some pervert who reeks of dirt!” You gestured your hand up and down at his dirty clothing. Beetlejuice lifted his coat sniffing at his armpits, jokingly scrunching his face in response.

You picked up the paper from earlier. Staring at the picture of the man in front of you sprawled out on a heart shaped bed. Never expecting that he would genuinely appear in front of you.

“So if saying your name three times summons you… does it also make you leave?” You cocked an eyebrow.

His expression dropped. Eyes widening and mouth hanging open slightly. “Oh— you don’t need to worry about all that,” he ripped the flyer from your hands. Ripping it into a million shreds comically fast.

“Betelgeuse—“

“No-NOPE,” he snapped his fingers. A padlock appeared over your mouth. Frustrating you as you clawed to get it off. “Please, I’ll be good,” he fell to his knees with his hands clasped together, walking over to you on them, “Just let me stay. I won’t cause no trouble. I’ll even keep any creeps away from bothering you!”

“You are the creep bothering me,” you thought unable to speak.

“You just can’t be throwing my name around like that,” he softly took one of your hands in his. Petting at your warm flesh, noticing how cold his was in comparison. You blushed at his tender gesture. Fighting off the soft spot you were already forming for him.

You locked eyes with him. Giant blue orbs stared up at you. Pleading for your sympathy. You rolled your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose unable to believe you were about to agree to this. You nodded your head at him.

“Promise?” He pointed at you.

You nodded again.

“Oh! I knew you’d come around, doll! We’re gonna have some fun together you and I—“ he snapped his fingers.

Your fingers flattened against your mouth, taking a deep breath when you realized your mouth was free again. You held your finger up to him, shaking it back and forth to stop his monologue. “Not too fast. If you’re going to stay here, you’re going to put in your fair share,” you held your finger in front of his face.

Beetlejuice pulled his pockets inside out. Some bugs, dirt, and an old condom wrapper fell out of them. Noticing a cartoon-like fly buzzing out of one of them too. “Uh. I don’t have any funds, hun,” he snickered up at you.

“You can use a broom,” you began walking away from him.

You heard him groan and stomp his food behind you.

“Betel—“

“OKAY! Okay— gotta be careful throwing those around, babes,” he ran up behind you. Following closely as you showed him around the house. Arms crossed over his chest as he was disinterested in what you had to say. Already pretty familiar with your home. You snapped your fingers in his face to get his attention.

“I expect you to help me around the house since you’ll be living here rent free. And you have to stay out of sight when I bring people over. No afterlife nonsense. I don’t want you scaring all my friends off,” you closed the laundry room door behind you. Sitting at the counter of your island. Flopping over into your arms.

He was infatuated by you. He had been pining for you for months now. And now here you were. Allowing him to move in with you. He could not focus on anything except that you were right in front of him. Seeing him. Not running away.

“Do we have a deal?” You pulled him out of his daze. Extending your hand so you could shake on it.

Beetlejuice smirked. Rotten, disgusting teeth painting his smile as he gleefully shook your hand. He pulled your hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss against your flesh.

You blushed at his flirting.

“You’re not gonna regret this! I’m nothing if not a man of my word. Now— thinking of rearranging some things,” Beetlejuice turned to face your living room. Snapping his fingers and changing the layout of your entire living room. Going on about feng shui of your living quarters.

Oh, man. This was going to be a hard adjustment.

~

[END//Part 2]

// Thank you so much for reading! I look forward to continuing this series. If you want to be tagged in the future let me know! //

{tags}

@summonthewinchesters ~ @jewqueer ~ @vanessaedp ~ @catfoundfics ~ @the- -blackdahlia ~