#hope this response is coherent lmao

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

gender euphoria is a thing! it’s a very common thing among all kinds of trans people. also like.. some people just feel like they’re trans? doesn’t need to involve anything else, if the person feels they’re trans, who are you to tell them they’re not? doesn’t matter if they have dysphoria or euphoria, if someone says they’re trans, then it’s generally a good idea to believe and respect them. you don’t know someone’s inner workings regarding how or why they feel like they’re trans, nor are you entitled to know. no one has the right to tell a trans person that they’re not trans, even if you’re trans yourself.

I mean, yeah, it’s super rude to call people not trans to their faces. Thats why I’m not going into any blog with a non binary person going “I think you’re lying” because thats an actually god awful thing to say and do, and I’d be a terrible person as well.

And I myself don’t know much about gender euphoria, but from what I do know is that with euphoria there has to be dysphoria. Everyone is different, but theres a whole reason why most people don’t like dressing up in a way that doesn’t make them look like their gender.

But not every one is trans, I personally believe that everyone has a bit of dysphoria, but its never to the extreme with trans people, because they’re mentally in the wrong body, ofc they’re going to experience it.

I guess the problem is with my understanding, I don’t understand why someone would call themselves trans if they don’t have dysphoria.

[supernovaa-remnant]

your post-canon utah AU makes me want to eat drywall i love them so much 😭

they mean so much to me 😭💕

oughhhh I wish my thoughts about the au weren't so incoherent 99% of the time so that I could talk about it more

it's just so... the sheer size of the world is so much bigger than the smp. this world has billions of people. yet here they are, c!dream and c!wilbur, in some random town in utah. they're the only familiar face in this giant world. (technically there are other members of the smp in this world, but it's not like c!dream and c!wilbur know this).

they don't really talk about their shared history, but it still inhabits the space around them. c!wilbur wakes to cold sheets every morning, but it doesn't change the fact that c!dream sleeps in the same bed as him every night. c!wilbur hated the fact that there was such a blatant reminder of the smp in his house. he hated when c!dream left for a week. c!dream didn't initially want to stay with c!wilbur. but, as far as he knows, there's not another familiar face in this whole entire world.

c!wilbur is in therapy by time c!dream arrives. it takes months for him to even bring up the mere idea of c!dream trying therapy. they start leaning on each other. they start caring about each other. c!wilbur hates himself for how much he wants c!dream. c!dream just wants c!wilbur to wash away the pain he doesn't admit is there. c!wilbur is practically drowning in guilt when he looks at what c!dream's become. a part of c!dream resents c!wilbur. a part of c!wilbur resents c!dream. they don't talk about it until they do. eventually, eventually they try couple's group therapy.

things get better. then they get worse. and then they get so much better.

at some point, much later, c!dream looks at c!wilbur—once again complaining about the people who don't know how to use the traffic circle even though c!wilbur can't even drive—and he thinks, I love you. at some point, c!wilbur looks at c!dream—sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead, swollen lips tugged into a smirk—and he thinks, I love you.

they want each other—they crave each other—and c!wilbur hates himself for it. then they care about each other, and it makes c!dream want to snarl and bare his teeth. then they love each other, and they realize that they love this soft, domestic epilogue that they stumbled into years ago.

it gets better. they heal. they don't talk about everything until they do, and then those hurts get better, too. and some days it still feels like they don't really deserve this peace they've found, but they love it anyway.

and they have friends. friends who give them christmas gifts and invite them to new year's parties. friends who laugh with them and bring them baked goods.

eventually they stumble across more people from the smp. it's not fine until it is. which is kinda the big thing with this au. it eventually gets better.

[tomwambsmilk]

really curious to see how people's finale opinions will develop once we get some distance.... personally I feel like I'm still reeling so hard from the gut-level emotional response that it's difficult to really assess or analyze it esp. within the framework of the whole show and I kind of wonder if others feel the same

[rusty-jester]

Why do you think Quackity breaking Tilin's bed means she'll be the only one revived? I don't follow your thought process '^^

OKAY. SO! Back when q!quackity broke Tilin's bed, a few strange things happened. 1) The picture of tilin in the chest was swapped out for a Warped Vine, which was unobtainable and is only found in the nether 2) Cave noises started playing 3) Tarantulas and Ghosts were spawned in the grave. this was all pretty fucking weird back then, but looking back now it seems even stranger. Why would breaking tilin's bed and trying to let go cause this? And then now, with the 'TIMES UP!' teaser which prominently features a bow, there's around a 50% chance that it's Tilin with the whole 8 freezers 8 eggs thing. There might be the outline of glasses in the first teaser, but im not so sure. but Tilin would be the easiest to bring back, given they are lacking a bed, their parent is who the fuck knows where and they are one of the less-known eggs. And since they are one of the lesser-known eggs it would also take longer for ppl to notice if they were a clone or a code, esp since roier or charlie aren't on often If the Tilin in the freezer is either a clone or just in stasis after having 'died' i feel like it'd work either way. i'm not 100% sold on this prediction, but it's a fun train of thought anyways :D sorry for rambling a bit but i feel like too many ppl glossed over the fact that Tilin's grave was haunted lmao

[psychesalcove]

ֶָ֢ "it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,"

hiiii! can i request a luke castellan x fem reader fic, the scenario being luke just woke up after the quest gone wrong (when he got the scar on his face) and reader is the first one he hears. she’s aphrodite’s daughter but she’s the one cleaning his wound in the infirmary. you can spin it however you like💗 just want some luke castellan fluff (w/ a bit of angst💗) where he confides in reader, and he cries but hides it by nuzzling in her neck, she’s just a comforting gf that feels her neck become damp.

luke castellan x daughter of aphrodte reader

my writes are completely race and body type friendly! feel free to interact my loves:)

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event

-> want to participate in the event?

an: babes this is suchhh a cute idea for luke omg!! i love detailed asks its amazing n' your ideas are stunning, bueatiful, and everything!! i had so much fun writing this, hope you enjoy! and again, sorry for not writing sooner, i was camping with my family and had no wifi lmao 😓 love ya 🩷 ps. I also did like a lot of writing for this,, so I hope u don't mind lovie!!

you hummed quietly to yourself as you wrapped up a child of ares arm; according to them, they had gotten distracted and accidentally went up against a sword. you patted their arm to signify you were finished. once they got up, you walked over to will.

'how's he doing?' you asked, leaning against the counter will was sitting at. luke, your boyfriend, had a rough go of it on a recent quest. you weren't all sure of what happened; as he passed out before he could get a coherent sentence said. you did catch some words: hermes. hurts. and some other ones that you couldn't quite make out.

will looked up from the pile of paperwork he was reading. 'better. he's still not 100%; but he's making recovery. i'm not exactly sure when he'll wake up,' he explained, briefly scanning the paperwork to make sure he said the correct information.

you hummed, eyes also going down to the paperwork to scan it over. 'do you think i should be with him, when he wakes up?' you asked, eyes going up to meet wills.

'i'll give you the rest of the day off, how about that?' he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. he could probably sense your anxiety about luke and his wellbeing. 'i think he'll be happy to see you,' will gave you a soft smile before his attention went back to his paper.

you thanked him and quickly made your way over to the back of the infirmary; where the private cots were. you gently pulled back the curtain and was met with the same sight that you saw last. luke was laying on the bed, bandages wrapped around his face due to the injury that was on his eye.

you quickly sat down in a chair, prepared to spend however long you would need to wait for luke to wake up.

—

as you looked out the window at camp; a light squeeze on your hand drew your attention back to luke. you smiled softly when you saw him staring back at you, even with one eye. 'hi hon,' you whispered gently, hand squeezing his back.

he didn't say anything, instead smiling a little at you as a response. you took that as he didn't want to talk; especially about the quest he just got back from. you opted to ask a question on a different topic.

'd'you want a hug?'you whispered again, hand still in his. all you got in response was a light nod of the head, a nod you would've missed if you weren't pouring all your attention into him. you removed your hand from his and quickly wrapped your arms around him, holding luke in a protective embrace.

his head quickly found its way to your neck; both of you being mindful of the bandages still on his face. as soon as both of you settled into the hold, lukes shoulders started shaking lightly. in cue, you felt wetness on your neck, along with lukes heavy breathing drying the wetness; though the tears were quickly being replaced by new ones.

you tightened your grip around him. luke rarely cried: you assumed it was the pressure of being a good role model for the younger campers, or even who he associated with at camp. you shuttered lightly at the thought of what must have happened on that quest for him to react like this.

before you could attempt comforting him, he spoke through his quiet sobs. 'im, i'm really sorry for this,' you heard him mumble quietly as his breath picked up even more.

you shook your head softly at him. 'luke, hon. you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. quests can be hard, they're made to be. its okay to be scared of them. it's natural, completely normal.' you said, hand starting to rub small circles onto his upper back in an attempt to comfort him.

you couldn't tell how long the two of you stayed in that position; you holding onto him like he was your lifeline and luke holding back just as hard. slowly though, his sobs started to subside, and his breathing returned to normal. throughout him crying, you decided not to try and get him to stop, knowing that this crying session was long overdue.

luke seemed to think that he calmed down enough, as he gently pulled out of the embrace. as the two of you stared at eachother, he opened his mouth. 'it's nice that your voice was the first thing i heard today,' he said, a small joking tone to it.

you smiled lightly. 'are you okay?' you asked, ignoring his past comment; knowing it was probably a way to steer the conversation around what just happened.

he sighed deeply, the eye that wasnt covered closing as he layed down again. 'yeah. m'sorry about my, uh. episode. the quest was just a lot.' he chuckled, opening his eye again. 'i love you,'he added, flashing you a quick smile.

you sighed, grabbing his hand and brining it into your embrace again. 'it's okay to have episodes like that love. it's human; you should honestly do it more often.'you hummed gently, rubbing circles onto his knuckles.

luke only nodded lightly in response; seemingly drifting off to sleep once again.

'i love you to, luke.' you mused, pushing up out of the chair and pressing a gentle kiss to his noninjured side of his face.

[mountaesan]

while you were sleeping ; m. jaehyun

pairing. sunshine!jaehyun x grumpy!reader (ft. best friend!taesan) genre. fluff , sunshine x grumpy au word count. 1234 words warnings. none?  playlist. while you were sleeping by laufey !!  notes. aaaa my first published work !! hope ygs like it <3 btw reader isn’t exactly… grumpy ? in this ? lmao you’ll see what i mean

“Jaehyun?” You whispered, scared you might awaken him if he was asleep. “Jae, are you sleeping?”

Your boyfriend let out a small snore in response, confirming your suspicions. He was curled into you, his legs tucked under him and arms wrapped tightly around your torso. You let out a small laugh, remembering his loud proclamation to not be the first to fall asleep during your weekly movie marathon. He was horribly wrong and you were elated at the idea of gloating about your victory to him tomorrow morning. Still basking in your triumph, you turned your attention back to the movie.

The weight of Jaehyun’s head resting on your shoulder was comforting but it soon became a distraction. You caught yourself constantly looking away from the laptop screen in front of you to watch your sweet boyfriend and his peaceful face as he slept. There was a recognizable itch at the edge of your fingertips, a familiar ache to run your fingers through Jaehyun’s hair, trace his face and commit every small detail to memory. 

Outside, the dark canvas of the night sky was illuminated by the countless number of stars scattered across the sky, like delicate and small pinpricks of light. Each star shimmered with a small brilliance, like it was whispering stories of ancient tales gathered from the farthest corners of the universe. The pale moonlight spilled gently across Jaehyun’s face, softening the edges of his usually sharp features with a silvery glow. Shadows danced delicately in the hollows while the light seemed to linger on his skin; it was almost as if night itself had paused to admire Jaehyun.

Your fist clenched tightly at your side as you fought the urge to cup his face in your hands and smother him with kisses. 

Jaehyun was, in no doubt, the more physically affectionate one in your relationship. In the past four months, he’s made it a habit to kiss every inch of available space of your face whenever he could. Grabbing your hand and tugging you into his embrace, his lips pressed against the crown of your head. A sneaky kiss on the cheek when he thinks you’re not looking. Entangling his fingers with yours when you’re outside. Wrapping his arms around you from behind, tucking you into the warm folds of his overcoat to shield you from the cold, crisp air. The list could honestly go on for forever.

You, on the other hand, were not as physically affectionate. Not to be confused with being not affectionate. You loved Jaehyun with all that you had but you were more selective with how you outwardly expressed it. 

A particularly loud sound from the movie snapped you out of your train of thought and Jaehyun flinched in his sleep next to you. You couldn’t help the smile that began to grow and you pressed a quick kiss to his head. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” You whispered. Jaehyun let out a small grunt as he shifted in his sleep. Nuzzling his face deeper into your shoulder, you felt the warmth of his body radiate and spread through your body, chasing away any remnants of cold from the winter. 

“Love you…” He mumbled. The words were barely coherent, just above a whisper uttered into the universe and into existence. A quiet confession equivalent to a gentle rustle of a singular blade in the neverending expanse of a meadow; hard to notice but once it catches your attention, you can’t look at anything else. 

For a moment, time seemed to still and the warmth of his words sank in, melting any doubt you had left in you. A familiar feeling of warmth bloomed within you and you welcomed it with open arms. It traveled through your body, finally reaching your heart and giving it a tight, breathtaking squeeze. 

You let the silence stretch, the loud beating of your heart filling in the gap like a drumroll in your chest. Not out of fear, but out of wonder. This moment felt so fragile, you were worried any sudden movement might break it. 

You looked down at Jaehyun, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the chaos he had just evoked within you. Brushing away a strand of hair from his face, you felt the warmth in your chest swell until it spilled over into a soft, uncontainable smile. “I love you too.”

Although he’d always been skeptical about aliens and paranormal life or whatever, Dongmin was slowly beginning to believe you were living proof of an alien abduction. Like you were whisked away one night on an UFO and some poor, random soul was placed in your physical body. There was something seriously wrong with you.

Your friend watched you with an intense gaze, his sharp eyes scrutinizing and analyzing every move you made as you admired the bouquet of flowers gifted to you by your boyfriend before he left for work. You were humming, for God’s sake. Humming.

“What?” You asked mid-hum, dropping the smile within a millisecond when you noticed Dongmin staring at you like you had grown a carrot for a nose. There was a slight accusatory tone in your voice, one that could easily be mistaken as malice to anyone else, but Dongmin knew you better than that.

“You’re smiling,” He pointed out with a teasing smile and lilt in his voice. He picked at a stray petal that had fallen from the bouquet of flowers and you scoffed in disbelief.

“Well, pardon me for being in a good mood. I can’t always be the brooding one, can I? Even us grumpy people need a break sometimes too, you know.” You shot back, but your biting words failed to prove its bite with the wide grin that was currently growing on your face in record speed. 

“I think we need to get you to a hospital. Something’s not right in your head.” Dongmin rested his hand on your forehead to take your temperature and you playfully swatted his hand away.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you very much. You’re–” You jabbed your finger in your best friend’s face. “–just jealous you’re spending this holiday season with no roster. Again.”

Dongmin scoffed and pushed your hand away. “I’m just gonna pretend I didn’t hear the second half of that statement. Do you seriously need me to list off everything that you did today?”

The inquisitive quirk of your eyebrow was enough to answer his question.

“You've only been playing love songs since I got here, smiled at strangers all three hours we’ve been here, waved at the Santa from Salvation Army out on the sidewalk, and you literally pranced down the baby diaper aisle at the convenience store,” Dongmin rattled off, counting on his fingers as he did so and threw his hands down in exasperation at the end. “It’s like you’ve been possessed.”

You burst into laughter. “You make me sound like I’m some anti-social cynic, Dongmin. I’m just… in the holiday spirit, that’s all.”

Dongmin faltered, his retort to call you out on your bullshit dying on the tip of his tongue. As you admired the flower bouquet in front of you with a warm, loving glint in your eyes, he couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself. He had his doubts but watching you running your fingertips gingerly along the rich, velvet-like texture of a pink tulip told him everything he needed to know.

You were in love. Hopelessly, utterly in love. 

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[just-a-silly-little-whumper]

You mentioned shadow tendrils in the recent piece of writing-- have you written anything with Lord Denholm using those to fuck Altair?

I would use them to pull his cute little pussy open and force him to take those and Lord Denholm's cock at the same time.

Listen we're just going to pretend that you didn't send this like 9 months ago lmao

But anyway I uh. Hope this is what you wanted? idk there ended up being more emotions than I was expecting lmao

Contains: explicit noncon, weird tentacle(ish) sex, vampires, intimate whump, wing whump, captivity, begging

~~~

The shadows coiled around his wings, sliding between feathers in a way that made Altair’s very soul recoil with revulsion. The smoky, inky magic dripped with such malice and envy that Altair was practically choking on it. The harder he struggled, the more securely the tendrils held him, unyielding in their loving, covetous embrace.

Those same shadows held his wrists in place, held his legs spread open, kept him firmly in place on the bed as Lord Denholm knelt over him, eyes ravenously roaming over Altair’s bare form.

“I can hear your heartbeat, my little ruin,” Lord Denholm purred, cold fingers tracing across Altair’s chest. “Tell me, what has you so afraid?”

Hatred roiled through him as fierce as any tidal wave. But with the corrupted magic intertwined with his feathers, he couldn’t stop the words from pouring from his mouth. “You- you’re going to rape me. Again. And it won’t be the last time, either, for me or for Elze’ith, because I can’t figure out how to stop you.”

A wave of delight cascaded over Altair as Lord Denholm smiled. “Oh, it gladdens me to hear that.” Altair choked on a sound halfway between a gasp and a sob as the shadows caressed further into the spaces between his feathers. “It should put your mind at ease, then, to know that you cannot stop me. I am going to do as I please, and you are going to take what I have to give. You do not have to fret about how to escape your fate, because I have already claimed you. All that will change is how you understand and appreciate your role here, my ruinous little angel.”

“You-” Virulent hatred threatened to choke Altair, but he still coughed up the words. “You’re wrong. I’m never going to stop fighting. I’m never going to accept any of this. You’re never going to break me.”

“Oh, my ruinous little angel.” Lord Denholm’s dark eyes glinted with malice. “The cracks in you will are already forming. And I have plenty of time to see how you fall apart.”

Slow and deliberate, a tendril curled up his leg and pressed lightly at his folds. Though insubstantial, like thick smoke or sleet or cold oil, it was solid and probing enough that Altair immediately tensed and tried to pull away. There was nowhere to go, however, not with the magical binds that held him so firmly in place, that spread his legs even wider in response to his struggles. Just as he knew he would be, he was helpless to stop the tendril as it teased and taunted at his entrance.

“No, wait— stop—”

He didn’t want to beg, but he couldn’t manage to stop himself. He wasn’t in control. He wasn’t in control of anything that was happening, not his words or the situation or his fear or the strangled, panicked sound he let out as the tendril pushed its way inside of him.

Nothing had ever felt quite this unnatural. It seemed to slither inside of him, eager to caress every part of him it could access. The sensation made his skin crawl, made him writhe instinctively, made his breath catch in his chest. Cold and oily and slick and wrong. He wanted it out, wanted to burn it away until it could never touch him again, but it just kept feeding into him, slow and methodical and joyous.

An eternity passed just like that, with the perverse, foul tendril sliding its way into his core until it could go no further. Its counterparts in his wings continued to slowly shift and coil, inexorable and inescapable. Any coherent thought was lost beyond the sickening dread in his stomach and the desperation to somehow get this to stop.

So lost he was in the overwhelming, defiling sensation that he almost didn’t notice the second tendril that brushed his entrance. It was impossible to escape the feeling of it slipping inside, though, right alongside the first, twisting and twirling and filling him up even more. Lips parted in a silent gasp, he strained and tensed in his bonds, but every movement only made him more aware of the magic around him, inside him, claiming him.

And then, the tendrils went still. The ones in his wings retracted, not leaving entirely, but withdrawing enough to allow him to breathe. The twin shadows inside him stiffened and pulled apart, making him groan from the stretch, but they too paused in their ministrations. Blinking, Altair tried to take the moment to gather himself, to reclaim some shred of his dignity, though he knew that his violation was far from over.

After all, the tendrils were still inside him. Lord Denholm was still watching. It wasn’t over yet.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Lord Denholm leaned down to press a kiss to his collarbone, eyes gleaming with covetous desire. Altair shivered, forcing his breath to stay even. “My beautiful, ruinous little angel. So open and ready for me,” Lord Denholm purred. His hand drifted lower, to Altair’s hip, tracing the outline of his burn scar before thumbing over Altair’s clit. “Don’t worry; I’ll give you what you need.”

It hit Altair, all at once, why the tendrils were holding him open. “No— wait— don’t—!”

His begging morphed into a scream of terror and pain as Lord Denholm sank into him, between the tendrils already inside. He clenched his eyes shut, tears gathering on his eyelashes, his lungs shaking and unable to capture any air. The stretch was excruciating, inconceivable, unbearable, and yet he was vaguely aware of Lord Denholm bottoming out inside of him as though he was made to take this much. A sob rippled through him, of pain and humiliation and anger, and then another, because

Lips brushed against his eyelids; Altair tensed, but didn’t have the strength to recoil. Though Lord Denholm’s voice washed over him, he couldn’t quite parse the words over the roaring of his heartbeat in his ears. Good, some desperate, fervent part of him thought. He didn’t want to hear what the bastard had to say anyway.

He wasn’t sure if Lord Denholm or his shadows started moving first. There was just sensation, the push and pull, the steady cadence and the unnatural twisting within him. All he could do was close his eyes and try to endure and do whatever he could not to give Lord Denholm any more of what he wanted.

He didn’t think he was very successful. Nothing had ever felt like this, felt this much, felt so familiar and strange and unwanted and tainted and wrong.His entire body thrummed with revulsion with every thrust, shivered and shuddered as perverse magic shifted around and within him. He couldn’t manage to tamp down on those instinctual, involuntary reactions. He knew Lord Denholm, with his magic tangled up in his wings, would be able to feel it even if he did. Altair could certainly feel Lord Denholm’s delight, just as he knew Lord Denholm wanted him to.

Distantly, through his horror, Altair realized that the tendrils were pleasuring Lord Denholm inside of him, coiling around his cock and stroking both of them in tandem. His stomach turned; it was worse than if they were just defiling him.The notion was enough for him to try, futile as he knew it was, to summon his magic so that he might burn the foul things away. It didn’t work, and the attempt only made him more exhausted, made him want to cry even more than he already was. He didn’t know what he was expecting. Lord Denholm was jerking himself off inside of Altair, and he couldn’t stop it.

How much further would this go? How many more ways would Lord Denholm find to violate him, defile him, take him apart and lay claim to the pieces? How long could Altair withstand the assault? He already felt ready to come apart at the seams, and every waking moment seemed to bring a new horror.

What would even be left of him when this was done?

Through his cascade of emotions, through the disgust and despair, a tentative but warm pulse emanated from the back of his mind. A part of him wanted to recoil, sure that this was some trick of Lord Denholm’s, but Lord Denholm could never replicate how Elze’ith made him feel, could never fake this warmth. And even if he never wanted Elze’ith to know him when he was like this… he needed to know he wasn’t alone.

Just as softly, just as tentatively, he reached back through his mind. Brushed up against that small presence, that sliver of connection. It didn’t stop the inexorable stretch or the unbearable thrusting or the sudden intense pressure on his clit. But it was enough to keep him from drowning in it all.

Sharp pain in his neck yanked him out of his mind and slammed him back into his body. The pain was no less horrible for how familiar it was; moreso now, even, because Lord Denholm had gone still, begun to spill inside him, even if the tendrils still danced in the thin space between them. The whimper that broke free from his chest seemed to get swallowed by the shadows that still endlessly coiled around him, as eager as their master to drink in his suffering.

The brief connection with Elze’ith was gone. Even as Altair mourned the loss, he was glad for it. He shouldn’t have even reached out. Elze’ith had suffered enough. He deserved better than to bear witness to what Altair was being forced to endure.

After a short eternity, the tendrils settled, though Altair could still feel them slowly shifting. Lord Denholm pulled away from his neck, smiling down at him with blood-stained fangs and dark, insatiable eyes. Altair tried to muster a glare; in response, Lord Denholm only hummed, and leaned down to kiss him. The taste of his own blood made Altair wince, feeling sick as Lord Denholm smiled against him before pulling away.

“You feel better every time we do this, my little ruin,” Lord Denholm said, licking the last of the blood from his lips. “Just as I knew you would.”

Altair scowled, the only response he could muster. The shadows within him coiled tighter, as did the ones still furled in his wings, making his back arch.

“Please—!” The word slipped from him unbidden, a raspy, desperate cry for relief he knew would not come. As soon as he said it he tensed, eyes clenching shut; he knew what he was asking for, and he knew what Lord Denholm would give him.

“Oh?” Something cold and slick circled his clit as the tendrils within moved more insistently. “Tell me what you want, my little ruin. I think you’ve earned a reward.”

“Please—“ he gasped, feeling the unwanted tension mount. “I can’t— Enough—!”

The shadows inside him pulsed. Orgasm ripped through him, violent and calamitous, and for a moment he didn’t know whether he hated himself or Lord Denholm more.

But it was over. He sagged against the bed, limp and panting, as Lord Denholm finally withdrew. First his cock, making Altair groan as the overwhelming fullness left him. The tendrils within took a last moment to twist and twine before sliding out as well, and though Altair had to bite back a whine, he was finally, blissfully empty.

It was over. He hated how grateful he was that it was over.

Later, when Lord Denholm had returned him to his cell and he was curled against the wall trying not to feel, the soft warmth in his mind reached out once again. Altair couldn’t find the strength in himself to reach back. But neither did he push it away, even though part of him wanted to. He just let Elze’ith radiate what little solace he could, let the echoes of it wrap around him like a blanket, let his partner help hold him together when he felt like he was going to fall apart. He just hoped Elze’ith knew how much it meant.

[skribbyposts]

Corset-Trained (Ch.2 with Smut)!!

HIIIIIII YALL this is long-awaited second chapter to Corset-Trained, which you can find on my Ao3 or if you scroll down on my tumblr page!! I hope its enjoyable this is my first time writing smut lmao.

----

“Then, you mind doing that again?” Sanji says, and there’s no time to form a coherent thought before Zoro’s caging him against the table in the galley with his hands wandering up Sanji’s shirt.

“You’re a fucking animal, you know that right?” Sanji simpers as he gives Zoro an appreciative once over. Zoro mumbles something like ‘yeah, whatever’ and dips his thumbs into the waistband of Sanji’s dress pants to untuck the rest of his shirt- a shiver crawls up his spine from the calloused fingers ghosting along his v-line.

This escalated really quickly, Sanji thinks, but he also realizes he doesn’t mind much. “Eyes up here,” he says to Zoro, and when hazy gray eyes meet his own, he grabs the man by the scruff on the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s rough, at first, and Zoro’s teeth clack unceremoniously against his own. Threading his hands through Zoro’s hair, he tilts his head to the side for better access. 

They fall into a rhythm quickly, the mellow push and pull of Zoro’s lips against his steadily ramping up until they’re pressed together everywhere, panting into each other’s mouths. 

“Jesus, fuck, you animal,” Sanji gets out between the deep breaths he takes, lamenting over his shirt that Zoro has now ripped half the buttons out.

“You’ll live,” Zoro gripes, watching as Sanji strips the rest of the blue cotton off and discards it in the corner. 

“This shit was expensive!” 

“Oh, fuck off.” Then strong hands grip his waist fimly and fucking heft him up onto the table.

Theoretically, Sanji knows Zoro is able to pick him up -what,with all three swords he wields- but experiencing it is a different thing. The world tilts on it’s axis momentarily as Sanji’s seated onto the hard wood of the table. He peers down at the other man from where he’s newly perched, and goddamn is it a sight.

Zoro’s as flushed as he is, his hair mussed from the hands running through it. His lips are red and swollen and he’s staring directly Sanji with the most want he’s ever seen on the man’s face before. 

“Let me suck your dick,” Zoro says, completely unprompted.

Sanji pauses. What? “...What?” He breathes. Did he heair that right?

Zoro swallows, and Sanji tracks the movement of his throat all the way through the motion. 

“Let me- please.” Zoro says again, hands moving to grip Sanji’s thighs. This is the first time Sanji has ever heard that word come out of Zoro’s mouth… like, ever,  and the way his voice quavers when he says it goes straight to Sanji’s dick. 

“Shit, okay-”  And no sooner than the admission passses Sanji’s lips is Zoro unbuckling Sanji’s dress pants, pulling down his boxers just enough to expose Sanji’s painfully hard cock to the heated air of the galley. 

A bead of preecum escapes from the red tip of Sanji’s dick, and Zoro’s eyes flash up to meet his own of before Sanji feels Zoro’s tongue slide up the underside of it. Abruptly, Zoro wraps his lips around him and takes him down to the hilt.  

“Jesus christ,” Sanji croaks, the heat suddenly enveloping him almost too much to bear. He can feel everything, from the ridges on the roof of Zoro’s mouth to the flat of Zoro’s tongue twitching against his cock. Zoro glances up, eyes asking a silent question.

“Keep- keep going.” The pace that Zoro sets from the beginning is fast, the tip of Sanji’s length hitting the back of his throat every time he bobs down. Zoro’s mouth is tight, and wet, and messy, and Sanji can’t do much besides sit back and try to stifle his moans. Zoro simply hums in response, the vibration sending pangs of pleasure down to Sanji’s fucking toes.  

Sanji threads a trembling hand through Zoro’s hair, half muttered praises falling from his lips as the heat in his gut grows. At some point, Sanji’s nose begins to bleed again- he doesn’t know when. It’s all bordering on overstimulating, the combination of Zoro’s mouth and his hands harshly grasping the muscle on Sanji’s thighs making it incredibly hard to focus..

“‘M’gonna cum,” Sanji slurs, and he isn’t really sure if it’s because he’s high off pleasure or the alcohol’s found it’s way into his system. Either way, Zoro comes off with an audible ‘pop’ and leans into the brusining kiss Sanj pulls him into. It tastes overwhelmingly like copper, but neither of them mind all that much.

Zoro finishes Sanji off with a few quick strokes, and the mess splatters between them as Sanji cums with a choked whine cut off by Zoro’s lips against his. 

“Fuck”, Sanji breathes after they part, riding out the rest of his post-orgasmic haze and tucking himself back into his boxers. “You sucked the soul outta me.” That gets a gravelly chuckle out of the man in front of him.

“Well, when you have a sword in your mouth all day-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, marimo.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, swiping a tissue from the counter to wipe off the rapidly drying cum off of both of their pants. 

After they (and the poor, poor, coffee table) are adequately clean, Sanji prepares to shut the lights in the galley while Zoro waits by the door.

“You owe me for that shirt, by the way,” Sanji remarks, snuffing out the candle hung on the galley’s door. 

Zoro huffs. “Whatever you say, curly.” Sanji feels an arm wrap around his midsection as he’s pulled in for another kiss. It’s short and chaste, a contrast to the one delivered to him about five minutes ago. 

“Oh, fuck you,” Sanji gripes, Leaving Zoro standing against the doorway in the galley as he marches over to the men's quarters.

“We can do that tomorrow!”

______

OH MY GOD THIS WAS ACTUALLY HELL TO WRITE. Everything i wrote was so awkward i physically COULD NOT WRITE IT. i actually cannot stand beta reading this so please tell me if there are any mistakes i didnt catch while writing this TwT !!! ermm anyways hope you enjoyed!! This will be going up on my Ao3 probably today or tmr so I'll edit the post with the link. okay its 4am and i desperately need sleep. GOODBHYE

[tehrevving]

So I've got this one itching inside my brain, in chapter 18, when vincent admits that if the reader injured, he'd be unable to control his transformation could you elaborate on that a bit more currently or is that something you'll be using to edge us for future oneshots and the continuation of the story?

Is this one way for him to say that she's become someone very precious to him even in such a short amount of time? Are his demons also finding themselves attached to her? If so then what exactly is their view on her? With chaos, it seems rather obvious he's into her if he's willing to make himself known in some instances whenever vincent and the reader have been sexually intimate (>cough< inappropriate use of materia >cough<)

I love this question, this is so good. Let me try think of a coherent response. If it’s not, feel free to ask again and more specific lol. And keep the questions and stuff coming too :).

Vincent’s transformations are literally his limit break. I think he has some control over them normally, like if he’s not stressed and he needs Galian to do something, but he hates it, and so he is only really transforming when: he is in pain or is taking a lot of damage, when he’s overrun by enemies (like in the fic), or in situations of high emotional stress (like in Rebirth, and uh, during sex lmao). And when he transforms that way, he doesn’t have much control.

Vincent is strong but his strength has a drawback, if he transforms, then he’s likely to hurt his allies or cause damage to the room or building that he’s in. The Temple of the Ancients is an extremely old relic and he’s very worried about causing damage.

Reader wants to protect her friends and she is not worried about herself, she’s worried about what might happen to the others. Vincent tries reassure her that he’ll look out for her, but that’s not what she wants. That’s a big difference in their characters actually and would likely become a recurring point of contention in the future, whenever there’s a big mission or something similar.

Anyway, yeah, while the whole point of the convo is that yes, she is very important to him. He’s also trying to say that she can’t rely on his strength in the way she thinks she can, by asking him to protect everyone else. Does that make sense?

Like, in an emergency, Vincent may not even be able to provide first aid, because he just turns into a rampaging monster instead. Even though he could take a fatal blow for someone else, he can’t take the risk that it might make him transform. I really hope Part 3 builds something like this in as a battle mechanic for him, but in a story, it’s something he worries about.

But anyway, onto his demons. Yes, they are attached to her, there’s plot and lore for it and it’s something that I’ll be exploring when I write the Temple of the Ancients chapter. (Galian is going to come out to play for a bit)

Chaos is the strongest one, so finds it easiest to appear when Vincent is distracted (wink). Aaand also he just really wants to show off his big horns and wings and fangs (and tongue) and how good he is at making her come 😂

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 5: Just One Kiss

Summary: Even in your worst moment, your compassion and kindness make it easy for Wanda to open up to you in a way she never has with anyone. 

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, hospital.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This chapter just about did me in lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

You found yourself gazing intently at Wanda, her question lingering between you. The combination of the heavy dose of pain medication coursing through your veins and her palpable unease made it challenging for you to muster a coherent response. Your mind felt hazy and disconnected, as if you were floating in a foggy dream. Meanwhile, Wanda's eyes bored into yours, awaiting a reply that didn't seem to be coming anytime soon.

“You know what? This isn’t necessary. We shouldn’t be talking about this right now.  You need to rest. I should—"

"Wanda, stop, please," you uttered with a raspy voice as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain. "Look at me," you said, trying to catch her gaze. The redhead closed her eyes momentarily before finally meeting your eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Fury’s words echoed in her mind.

“Do you know what I went through to keep Westview classified?”

This was a side of Wanda you hadn't seen before in the short time you had known her. The usually confident and bubbly woman could not speak, and it pained you to see her like that. Her anxiety was evident, so you took the initiative to speak first.

“You were blipped,” you said slowly

"Yes," she replied softly.

“The Battle for Earth,” you started cautiously. “You fought, I remember.”

"I did," she said while wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You see, I was right! You’re a hero. The world owes you everything.” 

“No, I’m not Y/N. You don’t know everything; no one outside of this building does. I’m not who you think I am,” lip trembling.

It was at that moment you finally saw the suffering flowing through her. The pain that stood as witness to all she had kept hidden and everything she was struggling to tell you.

“The Mind Stone connected Vision and me, but it was more than a mere connection. " She hesitated with a shaky breath. The vision was everything to me. He sacrificed himself for a chance to stop Thanos, and the burden of his sacrifice rested upon me," her voice somber. "That sacrifice meant I had to..." she bit her shaky lip, "I'm sorry.

"It's okay, I'm right here," you whispered.

“I had to destroy the Mind Stone. I was forced to take the life of the only one I ever loved,” she felt her throat start to close as tears welled up in her eyes. “I killed him. I didn’t have a choice.”

"Oh, Wanda," your eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“Nothing worked. Thanos was just too powerful," she said, her voice trembling. "After the dust settled, I returned to retrieve his remains, only to find out that SWORD had taken his body into custody. When I saw him, he had already been... dismantled.”

That wasn't your fault," you said, trying to reason with her. "You did everything you could.”

As she spoke, her voice trembled with emotion. Her eyes were fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. "Vision and I had everything planned out. We were going to start a new life together in Westview. I remember finding the deed to the property after the battle was over. But when I saw what they had done to him, I was overwhelmed with shock and confusion. I didn't know what to do or where to go. It was like my whole world had been turned upside down. So I just got in the car and drove. For hours and hours, I drove without any destination in mind. When I finally stopped, I realized that I had somehow ended up in Westview. It was as if fate had brought me there, to this quiet little town where I could try to start over and forget the pain of the past."

You reached for her, tilting her chin so her eyes met yours again. "The grief was overwhelming," her voice cracked. "I didn't know what was happening and lost control." The dam finally broke, and tears gushed down her ashen cheeks. "It brought him back to me in some form. It blessed me with the boys." She wiped her eyes, but the tears came anyway. "But I hurt so many people, Y/N," the shame tearing her apart. "I trapped them in my grief.

“No, you’re here now,” you reminded her gently. 

“I was able to put an end to it when I realized the pain I had caused, but nothing can take away what I did, Y/N,” shaking her head. “I don’t deserve to be here.”

A deep sense of disbelief filled your heart as you gazed at the woman before you. Here was someone who had shown you immense compassion and kindness, yet her pain was as profound as the raging storm outside your window. The darkness of her sorrow seemed to envelop everything in its path, leaving you feeling helpless and lost.

“Don’t you dare say that, Wanda,” your breathing a bit labored. “I see so much good and love in you. I knew it from the moment you looked me in the eyes in that cafe, and I saw it the day you walked into my shop. The way you talk about Billy and Tommy. You are a good person.”

You placed your hand against her cheek. The slight movement pulled at the IV buried in your skin, but you didn't care. You softly caressed her face with the pad of your thumb and said, "I may not understand all that you've been through, but I do know that a world without Wanda Maximoff is not a world I want to live in."

“Y/N…” 

Wanda’s walls had come crashing down, but what you found behind them was beautiful. The collection of unshed tears made her green eyes dazzle like emeralds. You leaned in and before you realized what you were doing she met you halfway. Your lips met ever so softly, like a bird’s wings riding the wind. You kissed her slowly, deeply, purposefully, intent on cherishing every last bit of her. She could feel the warmth of your soft cheeks radiate over hers. The pace of your heart rate monitor quickened as adrenaline coursed through you. 

As she pulled away, Wanda stumbled over her words, "I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to. I shouldn't have..."

"No, Wanda. It's okay," you say, trying your best to reassure her.

“No, it isn’t, you’re so vulnerable. For God’s sake, Y/N, you almost died today! I don’t know what got into me,” rising from her chair. “I should go; they’ll be expecting me in the debrief. I’ll come back later,” she said unconvincingly.

"Uh, sure," you mutter, attempting to mask your disappointment.

Without another word, Wanda hurriedly left the room, leaving you with the faint sensation of her lips on yours and your thoughts.

*^~^*

Wanda had changed into the clothes that Sam had brought her and walked into the conference room to find the debriefing already in progress. She took her seat next to Natasha at the table, while Cap was discussing various aspects of their response to the accident. Suddenly, Nat nudged Wanda under the table to get her attention.

“How’s y/n?” she mumbled.

"Her condition is stable. She woke up while I was with her," Wanda whispered.

“Good.” Nat replied.

“Wanda," Steve's voice interrupted, breaking the silence. "I had a chance to speak with Helen earlier, and she mentioned your friend. We're all happy to hear that everything turned out okay.

"Oh, thank you. I am, too," she said while biting her lower lip.

Yelena observed the entire exchange from the other end of the table, reading the witch's body language. "I hope we get to meet her," she said with a smile.

“Maybe,” the redhead considered. “Once she’s out of the woods.” 

Wanda texted Darcy after the meeting, letting her know she would be home in an hour. As she reached the door, an arm suddenly appeared and blocked her exit.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

Wanda looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“With Y/N,” Nat said. “I saw you out there today and see it in your eyes right now.” 

“Are you ever not watching me?” Wanda asked sarcastically; turning around and walking back toward her chair. 

“Would it surprise you if I said no,” Nat smirked, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Not really,” lifting herself to sit on the conference table with a sigh, “ Y/N and I kissed.” 

Nat raised an eyebrow and asked, "And how does that make you feel?”

“Are you my therapist now?” Wanda asked, tying her hair up in a messy bun with the hair tie on her wrist. 

“To be honest, we could both use one,” she said, meeting the witch's gaze.

“We were both so vulnerable. She almost died; I was sobbing over Vision and Westview; I don’t know what came over me. She was so compassionate and understanding; I don’t know,” Wanda trailed off.

“It's okay to have feelings for her. It would be best if you talked to her,” Nat said.

“I’m not sure if I can go back up there,” her eyes avoiding the widow.

“You can, and you will. I’ll go with you if you want me to,” her hands on Wanda’s shoulders.

*^~^*

As you lay in your Med Bay room, you gradually begin to feel the effects of the pain medication administered by Helen and Banner start to subside. A sharp twinge of pain shoots through your body, causing you to let out a groan. You reach out for the call button, knowing that you need to alert the medical staff of your discomfort. The room around you is quiet, save for the beeping of the machines monitoring your vital signs. You take a deep breath and press the button, hoping that help will arrive soon.

"Ms. Y/L/N, are you alright?" the nurse asked, reassuringly smiling.

I'm really starting to hurt. Is there any chance I could get some more pain medication?” You asked.

"Sure, it's almost time for your next oral dose, about 15 minutes from now," she said, making adjustments to your morphine drip.

“So, Claire," you said after glancing at her name tag, "I assume this isn’t a place where you encounter a lot of civilians, am I right?”

“No, you’re the first one,” she helped you sit up and adjusted your pillows.

As you lay back down, grimacing, trying to adjust your sling and broken leg, "Well, I feel special then."

“You should! It’s not every day that group gets to see what happens after they save someone. I think it’s good for them,” she winked.

A soft knock catches your attention. You turn to see Wanda peeking into your room. You tried to play it cool, but you couldn't help how your face lit up at the sight of her.

"Hey, I told you I'd be back. How are you feeling?" Walking in with another redhead in tow.

“I've been better," you said, smirking as you fidgeted with your oxygen cannula. "Listen, about what happened earlier...

"We don't need to talk about that right now, Y/N. You need to rest," Wanda said as she sat beside you. The second red-headed woman stood beside her. "This is Natasha Romanoff," she introduced, trying to change the subject.

After gently shaking your hand, Nat said, "It's nice to formally meet you this time."

"I'm sorry I didn't recognize you the other day. I was busy being tackled," you said, smirking at Wanda.

Wanda blushed. Even on your worst day, you were exceptionally charming.

“Don’t worry about it. Truthfully, it’s great when we aren’t recognized,” Nat said. “I just wanted to come up and see how you were doing. The team was really worried about you.”

“I'm doing okay, all things considered," you said, sighing deeply. "I honestly feel lucky to be alive... Dr. Cho told me how bad off I was when you brought me in, Wanda. I didn't get a chance to say it before, but thank you," your voice shook, "Thank you for saving me," you said while wiping away a tear that was threatening to fall from your eye with your good hand.

The witch held your hand tightly, "We weren't going to let you die out there."

Nataha’s heart melted at the interaction. If she wasn’t sure before, she was now. Maximoff had it bad.

Helen softly entered the room with her tablet and said, "Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

“Not at all,” still holding on to Wanda’s hand. 

“I just wanted to check your stitches before Claire changes your bandages in a few minutes.”

“Oh, we can step out,” Nat offered. 

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured. “You’ve already seen me at my worst. Besides, I like the company.”

Helen carefully inspected your stitches, ensuring everything was healing correctly, while Wanda gently held your hand. 

“Everything looks good,” Helen said. “I also wanted to talk to you about your recovery. We couldn’t reach your parents with the numbers from your phone. Is there anyone else we can contact for you?”

"Figures," you muttered quietly.

The unexpected response from you caught Wanda off guard. As a curious person, the redhead had been wondering about your background and was eager to learn more about your past. However, she decided to wait until your condition had improved before approaching the topic and made a mental note to ask you about your family at a later time.

You thought for a moment. “Try my friend Harper Reynolds. She's the assistant manager at the Candy Bar," you suggested. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. "Oh shit, she's probably freaking out because I never made it to work," you said, running your hand over your face in frustration.

“We will call her. You will be here for a couple more weeks, and after that, you will require full-time care and physical therapy,” Helen explained.

“How are you going to manage on your own?” Wanda asked. 

“I’ll figure something out,” doing your best to reassure her.

She spoke softly, "Y/N, I visited your apartment. You live alone on the third floor."

“You can stay here,” Natasha interrupted.

“What?” Turning to the Black Widow.

“She’s right,” Wanda said. “My old bedroom in the compound living quarters is empty. You can’t be by yourself right now. Plus, Helen will be able to monitor your recovery more closely if you’re in the building.”

You were surprised by the suggestion. No, you couldn't stay here. You weren't excited about managing your recovery alone, but you never accepted help easily.

Wanda could see the gears turning in your head and didn’t wait for a response, “It’s settled then, she’ll stay here. We’ll send the guys to pick up your stuff.”

“Okay, I guess I’m staying here then,” you concurred.

“Yeah, like you had a choice,” Nat joked.

[wingedfoolnearthesun]

i’m excited to be participating in something like this for the first time ^^

DAY ONE: Who was the first deity you began worshipping? Do you still worship them now?

the first deity i began worshipping was Lord Apollo. i felt a strong towards him and couldn’t get the idea of reaching out to him out of my mind. i think my long history with being attached to music, art, and writing made me feel a pull towards him.

i felt myself overcome the horrible writing stump i was in for the longest time possible, and i managed to finally create new characters and a plot that exists in an actually well-constructed world. i felt so much creativity and an urge to keep making and making. i can’t help but attribute that burst to Lord Apollo. i’m still fairly new to hellenic polytheism, just a couple of weeks or so, and i most definitely still worship Him alongside Lord Hermes and hopefully Lord Hypnos (when i finally get a chance to breathe after these exams).

as i am still new to worshipping and being able to interact with the gods, i have much experience to accumulate to be able to share with you all. i remember Lord Apollo being the first i managed to reach out to using a pendulum. i had such a lovely conversation with him, sharing my old worries and concerns and receiving such loving and caring responses in return. i cannot wait to enhance my ability in using a pendulum to have more conversations with him.

i truly felt as if my life has been significantly improving and my happiness has become much more palpable since i started embracing hellenic polytheism. some of what i’ve written might not be that coherent as i am currently spilling all my thoughts out in the middle of my class LMAO

divider by @adornedwithlight

[screamingcrows]

AAAHHHHH WEBBY KISS!!!! 🎲

To the anon who sent me this on the 22nd of May at 4am, I'm sorry it took a while lmao, I forgot~

You rolled 5! That's "a firm kiss" :3 ('Beta' is the webtoon segment)

When you accepted The Second's proposition to shift your role into a companion of sorts, your expectations had been low to say the least. A man rumored for his astounding arrogance and even greater achievements appeared far beyond the reach of such mundanities.

Much less that he'd willingly sacrifice hours of a, competent you hoped, subordinate for such a thing.

'We have all been growing increasingly agitated, I hypothesise this might ease the worst of it.'

Clear-cut responsibilities. Reduced hours. Increased pay. A trial period to establish the effect. There'd been no reason to decline.

Upturned lips and satisfied hums had become more frequent after your tools had been replaced with access to his private collection of old tomes and a couch dragged into the workshop. It hardly came as a surprise that he'd been correct, not if the way his gait oozed with satisfaction every time those crimson eyes locked with your gaze.

Omega's head was currently on your shoulder, the segments voice tinged with thinly veiled excitement as he continued to elaborate on his newly acquired responsibilities.

The mission in Sumeru.

For all their knowledge and perspectives, envy seemed to remain a well hidden constant in all versions. Perhaps Dottore realised the chaos that would ensue were he to delegate such an important experiment when the segments were already barely remaining cordial.

You were a cushion. A brief silence ensued as Omega adjusted, face turning towards you in anticipation. The simple smile and nod you provided would've been adequate, asking a follow-up question made him grin, a low chuckle passing his lips before continuing his monologue.

His hair was soft between your fingers, neatly styled strands somehow always managing to return to their original position. Times like these, the accusations made against both the man in your lap and the Fatui seemed ridiculous.

The steady hum of machinery, gears clicking as they turned and steady footsteps as someone paced back and forth. Omega's weight against your body, the heat from him providing a pleasant substitute for the usual cool air, the slight tone of bragging, it was all so painfully normal at a glance.

Words of praise had barely left your lips when the air was sucked out of the room, the doors swinging open with too much force as everyone glanced towards the disturbance.

Ruffled cerulean hair and a black and white mask. What remained visible of Beta's face was contorted in a chilling sneer, his eyes burning with fury as they locked on you.

Words weren't exchanged as much as barked, nothing able to stop the young segment's advance through the room. The white coat was pulled taught across his shoulders, arms clutching a leatherbound book tightly to his chest.

A hand on your cheek forced you to look at Omega, a knowing smile on his lips when he gently chastised your mind for wandering, clearly intending to pick up where he'd left off as if uninterested in the commotion, several segments and assistants trying to placate Beta with reminders of the altered schedule. The raging segment all but snarling remarks about how one shouldn't be entitled to everything.

Clamor wasn't exactly uncommon, a shaky breath leaving your lips as your eyes closed in an attempt at refocusing, wishing you could tune out the callous segment as they so easily did each other.

A jolt to your left ripped any shred of tranquility from your clutches, heart thumpind loudly enough to hurt as your eyes flew open just in time to see Omega thrown aside. The downed segment merely laughed as he reached for the beaked mask now resting on the concrete floor.

Before you could stand to aid, intervene, anything really, Beta's lips collided with yours and stole away any coherent thought. Sharp teeth carefully dragged along your lips, swiftly replaced by a prodding tongue demanding entrance.

Quiet murmurs and uneasy discussions at the blatant breach of protocol were drowned out when a firm hand placed itself at the back of your neck, fingers gripping so tight it bordered on painful as it held you captive.

[writerblue275]

The One That Could Break My Heart (Chapter 2)

Inspiration: "Houdini" and “Break My Heart” - Dua Lipa, “Got Me Started” - Troye Sivan, “Tattoo” - Loreen (that’s right we’re adding another one lmao).

Champion: Ezreal (Like Pilty!Ez.)

Summary: You once again fill the role as Ezreal’s plus-one, but things don’t always go according to plan and you have a startling realization.

Genre: Song-inspired fic

Type: Fluff, Angst (but happy ending to chapter), Smut-ish (18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Gender: Reader who is comfortable with she/her pronouns and with being referred to as a daughter. There are also typically fem presenting clothes and stuff mentioned (but obviously clothes and stuff are not limited to the gender binary).

TW: Swearing, suggestive content (NSFW). Some emotional distress/angst. Mention of torture/violence/death (Jesus that makes it sound so bad) mainly in a nightmare-ish setting. Mention of alcohol (drink responsibly).

Important context: I’m involving Jayce/early HexTech as an example because it’s my story lmao. This is like over double the length of Chapter 1, but you know what, a lot happens plot-wise, so 🤷‍♀️.

Also: Please take this as my humble holiday gift. Happy Christmas Eve to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t, Happy Holidays! I hope your winter season is filled with love and joy.

Key:

“Break My Heart” lyrics in orange

“Houdini” lyrics in blue

“Got Me Started” lyrics in purple

“Tattoo” lyrics in green

“Everything you say is soundin’ so sweet.”

As you slowly drift back to consciousness, your first thought is how lovely and warm you are. My bedroom isn’t normally this warm! Not without a pile of blankets on top of me. But now all you feel is a sheet and one blanket covering you and it’s perfect.

The next couple things your mind registers are arms around you and a pair of soft lips slowly and gently kissing up and down your neck. The feeling is heavenly and you can’t help but let out a soft unintelligible moan as your brain finally manages to register where you are and who the lips belong to. You’re at Ezreal’s house, in his bed, and those are his lips currently nibbling the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“E-Ez,” you murmur sleepily. You try to tilt your head a little to give him more space, try being the operative word. Your brain isn’t exactly connected to your muscles in its current sleepy state. You let out a happy whine as he chuckles and nips your jaw.

“Good morning, princess. Does that feel good?” he murmurs softly into your ear, his voice husky and a bit deeper from sleep.

You softly moan and lace your fingers with the hand he’s anchored on your stomach. “Ez, please…I’m not…dreaming…right?” Your question is just a little more coherent as you start to actually wake, though your words are definitely still sleep-slurred.

You can feel him chuckle against your neck. “Not a dream, baby. I’ve missed waking you up like this…” He punctuates his point by gently nipping your ear.

You can’t help but let out a soft whimper. As you try to shift in his embrace, you squeeze his hand, trying to use any leverage you can to face him, even with your eyes still closed. “Kiss me…please,” you sleepily beg as you’re unsuccessful in your mission of turning yourself in his arms.

“Easy….I’ve got you…easy, princess…let me take care of you,” Ezreal coos softly, gently adjusting you so you’re laying on your back before one of his hands returns to lace with yours. His other hand gently strokes along your side for a moment. “Can you open your eyes for me?" His lips gently kiss and nibble along your jawline.

You finally manage to flutter your eyes open, turning your head to the side his voice is coming from. There you’re greeted with a delightfully heart-stopping sight. Ez is smirking gently down at you as he rests on his side, head propped up on his palm, with the blanket slid down to his waist, showing off his bare chest and abs. You stretch your arms a little before reaching over and resting your hand on his chest, gently trailing your fingertips down, and giving him a sleepy little smile. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice still a little husky as well, though he’s the main cause of that, not sleep.

All of his features light up as he smiles. “That’s it, princess,” he says quietly. He moves his head down towards yours. “Very good,” his voice ends in a whisper as he takes your lips in a kiss that can only be described as…drugging. It’s deep, slow, addictive, heart-racing, and breathtaking. It’s everything you wanted.

A happy noise slips from your throat and you tangle your hands in his hair as you kiss him back. After a few long moments, you pull away, a content smile on your lips. “You certainly know my favorite way to wake up” you sigh out, biting your bottom lip as you look up at him.

He gently uses his thumb to tug your bottom lip free of your teeth. The unexpected gesture causes your cheeks to heat and your heart to skip a few more beats. He leans down and kisses you deeply again, making you sigh again in even more delight as your hands move to rest against his chest.

“Sleep well?” He inquires in a murmur against your lips.

You slowly nod and stretch some more with a little smirk once he pulls back. “You made sure I would.”

After you and Ezreal cuddled for a while after finishing dinner last night, the two of you ended up going another round before you both fell asleep, him spooning you. It was truly exquisite, how easily you fell asleep. You never fall asleep as quickly as when you’re with him.

You gently flop back on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling as you’re transported into your mind. You can’t help but focus on the past. You think about how young you never would have imagined this situation being in the future of your friendship with the troublemaker son/nephew of your father’s colleagues. Her jaw would be on the floor.

“Princess, you just woke up! What’s got you thinking so much already?” Ez asks on a chuckle, poking your stomach gently.

You turn your head and shoot him a sleepy grin. “Just how shocked younger me would be that this is where our friendship has gone. She wouldn’t believe it at all. Remember? The first time we met I was so shy, I barely said a few sentences to you. Now look at us,” you remark. “Did you ever think things would be like this? With the history professor’s daughter?”

Ez looks down at you. He responds thoughtfully, “Honestly, no. Younger me didn’t see this being part of our future friendship/relationship to each other. But, I’ve never been so glad to be wrong in my life. I feel very lucky to have been wrong.” He leans down and kisses your forehead softly, his hand once again lacing with one of yours. The actions make your heart flutter and your eyes widen slightly.

You reach up with your free hand and gently cup his cheek, making him look at you. “Who are you and what have you done with Ezreal? You’ve been exceptionally affectionate and sweet since you’ve been home, Ez. Though I’m not complaining. I really like this sweet side of you, but it is different from how things have been in the past,” you observe softly. You let your curiosity linger for a moment before finally asking the questions that are stuck on your mind. “Ezreal, is…is everything alright? Is there anything you want to talk about? Did something happen on your expedition?”

You instantly notice how he stiffens as you mention his expedition and also how he hesitates as if thinking what to say.

You gently trace his bottom lip. “It’s alright, Ez. I won’t push you to tell me anything. I know I can’t comprehend everything you’ve seen in the field, especially when it comes to dangers you’ve faced,” you comment, moving to gently trace his jaw with your thumb.

He stiffens again slightly when you mention dangers. You know his body language well enough at this point to understand that he faced something that he’s hesitant to tell you about.

“As long as you know you can tell me anything without judgement, that’s all I care about,” you soothe, giving him a soft smile.

He leans down and kisses you softly, murmuring, “I do know that, and I’m very grateful. I will tell you. I’m just not ready to relive it quite yet.”

You nod and brush his hair out of his eyes. “Understood. I’m very sorry you went through that, then. When you are ready to talk about it it, I’m here to listen,” you promise him softly. “Always.”

“We’ve got that hot chemistry, you and me won’t make it out this house.”

It was a very slow and easy day for the two of you. Once both of you initially left bed, you shared a lovely and long shower, followed by a delicious, but simple, breakfast back in bed. Then the two of you just cuddled and chatted the afternoon away, mainly talking about your life updates since he was gone for two months with very little contact to home.

You also took a small little nap curled up against Ezreal’s chest. You fell asleep to his hands playing with your hair and rubbing your back, a perfect combination to knock you out.

A couple hours later, and now you’re getting ready for the dinner party with him.

Ez walks out of his closet and into his bathroom wearing a well-tailored black suit set and holding a garment bag, walking over to you as you finish putting on your makeup. He smiles as he meets your eyes in the bathroom vanity mirror. “Ready to see your dress? I think you’ll like it.

You smile back at him. “I’m sure I will. You know my fashion tastes very well by this point, Indiana Jones,” you observe. “Ok show me!” You turn towards him, closing your eyes, and patiently waiting as he unzips the cover.

Ezreal removes the dress from the garment bag and holds it up by the hanger. “Alright princess,” he says. “Open your eyes now.”

You do and you can’t help but let out a little gasp of delight at the clothing in front of you. It’s an off the shoulder purple cocktail-length dress with a fitted purple bodice at the top, covered in subtle 3d floral details, and a flowy tulle skirt that is ever-so-slightly high-low.

You murmur a little breathlessly, “Oh my goodness Ez, that’s so pretty! Is this what you bought the purple set to wear with?”

He nods and says, “As smart as ever. Yes, that’s why I got the purple set. It’s strapless at the top so you should be fine to wear it with this neckline.”

You immediately walk closer to him and kiss his cheek, murmuring happily, “Thank you, Ez. It’s truly beautiful. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such special gifts, but thank you for giving them to me.” You pull back and immediately walk over to your bag, getting out the purple set, with its matching top, bottoms, and garter belt.

As you gently herd him out of the bathroom and close the door you call out, “After I change into these, will you help me into the dress? I’ll need assistance with that zipper.”

“Of course. Happy to help, princess,” he calls back.

You quickly change into the lacy purple set, also pulling on some hose and connecting them to your garters. As you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, you can’t help but say, “Well fuck! I look sexy...”

Ez’s voice sounds through the closed bathroom door, tinged with amusement, “You always do, princess. Why do you sound so surprised?”

You can’t help but smirk and giggle, “Such a charmer, Ez! Alright come in, I’m ready for your help.”

You just giggle even more as he opens the door and freezes after taking only a couple steps with his eyes glued on you.

“Fucking hell, (Y/N), you look stunning,” he breathes. He hangs up the dress on a clothes peg behind him before quickly coming over to you. The second he reaches you, one of his hands is in your hair and the other is pulling you to him, holding your waist. His lips are on yours with a passion that has you gasping and even has your knees going a little weak, making you wrap your arms around his neck just to make sure you don’t fall. He chuckles, sliding the hand on your waist around your back so his arm helps better support you as his lips move to your jaw and throat.

You’re practically panting as you try to recatch your breath. “Careful Indiana Jones,” you gasp and whimper as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Keep this up and we won’t even make it out of this house to get to dinner. Hell, we won’t even make it out of this bedroom.”

His very amused murmur sounds in your ear, “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I see no problem with that particular outcome, baby. That sounds like a far more enjoyable evening to me.” His lips reattach themselves to your neck, causing you to gasp again as your hands tangle in his hair.

“Ezreal, do not leave a hickey when we’re about to go in public. I was barely able to throw my brother and parents off their suspicions of you the last time you left a visible mark. I’m still not completely sure they believe me. Do you know how it would look if we show up together and I have hickeys on me? I’m fairly certain my parents and your uncle would murder both of us once they heard about it!” You scold him breathlessly as you tug on his hair to get him to remove his lips from your neck.

He just smirks wickedly and instead of pulling away completely, he moves his lips to the soft skin of your upper arm. “Fine. Then I won’t make it obvious. I’m still going to mark you, though. Just in a place your dress covers. I know how much you love it when I mark you, (Y/N), don’t even try to say you don’t.”

You close your eyes and let out a soft noise of pleasure as your head goes back. “Fuck…I do,” you let out on a sigh as he does just what he said he would. He leaves a cluster of small marks on soft skin that will soon be covered by the off-the-shoulder sleeves of your dress.

He pulls back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect,” he observes on a smirk. “Now let’s get you into your dress so you can fix your hair. Apologies for messing it up,” he says, not sounding apologetic in the very slightest as he checks himself over in the mirror. “Whatever makeup you used though, good choice. Your lipstick didn’t smudge or get on me at all.”

You laugh as you wait for him to unzip the dress from the hanger and bring it over to you. “I should be upset with you about messing up my hair, but I can’t really be mad when you kiss me like that. Damn, Ezreal!” Your voice is still a little breathless. “That was…..woah…”

He laughs as he stands behind you and helps you step into the dress. He holds it up as you put your arms through the unconventional sleeves. He also helps zip you up, wrapping his arms around you, leaning forward, and kissing a bare shoulder once he’s done. “There,” he murmurs. “Just as incredible as I thought you would look.”

You smile and turn, kissing his cheek softly and uttering a gentle, “thank you.” You reluctantly step out of the warmth of his arms, going to the mirror to quickly fix your mussed hair. When you turn around again, he’s holding a pair of purple heels that match your dress. Once you walk over to him, he offers his arm and lets you use him to stabilize yourself as you step into the heels. They’re not ungodly tall, but heels have never been your forte.

You look at him with a raised brow. “Making sure I hang onto you all night, are you, Indiana Jones? You know me and heels aren’t besties. Promise to keep me upright?” you tease.

He sends you a wink. “Always, princess."

He leads you downstairs once you grab your small clutch with your essentials in it. As he opens the front door, you see a pretty carriage with horses and a driver.

You pause, your mouth opening in a surprised oval as you let out a small little gasp of, “Oh!”

You hear Ez chuckle next to you. “I thought we’d arrive in classic style tonight. And besides, I didn’t want to make you walk in those heels,” he murmurs as he offers you his arm to hold. Once you’re securely holding onto him, he leads you to the carriage steps, making sure you’re able to easily get in before pulling himself up and into the plush interior to the bench next to you. He laces his fingers with yours as he calls out to the driver to go.

After about a 10-minute ride, you see the line of carriages lined up to drop off occupants at the mansion of the council member who was hosting tonight’s dinner. You couldn’t even remember who was hosting. You only knew a couple of the councilors and it wasn’t any of them. As your carriage approaches the drop off point, you start to get nervous as you see flashes of exposed camera bulbs going off.

“You think by now I’d be used to the cameras and reporters,” you utter, “but god they still freak me out. I’m not photogenic, Ez. I still don’t get why you don’t have some model come with you. They’d do so much better in front of the cameras and in polite conversations. You could get whoever you wanted.” Your hands are starting to shake as your anxiety starts to really kick in.

Ezreal uses a finger to gently turn your head towards him. “(Y/N)…hey, don’t say stuff like that. You look incredible. Also, a random model isn’t my best friend of almost two decades who knows me better than I know myself a lot of times. And they certainly wouldn’t be as fascinating as I find you to be,” he voices reassuringly. He ends his affirmations with a quick peck to your lips. “I’ll do most of the talking if that makes you feel better. Just hold onto me. I’ll never let you fall or look stupid. Do you trust me on that?” Ez’s gentle question helps break through your nerves.

“Of course. I trust you completely, Ezreal. Always,” you answer honestly, giving him a small smile before taking a deep breath and rolling your shoulders back.

He smiles at you. “That’s more like it. Ready, princess? Your adoring public awaits,” he jokes.

You can’t help but grin. “But of course! As per usual, I’m ready to be your arm candy, Indiana Jones. Lead the way!”

“It’s your moment baby don’t let it slip.”

He laughs as the driver finally opens the carriage doors at the drop off point. Ez easily slides out of the carriage before turning back to you and helping you down the gap between the carriage steps and the ground. He makes sure you’re stable and offers you his arm to hold.

You smile brightly at Ez as you take his arm. “Thank you!” you whisper. You allow him to lead you along the walkway lined with reporters and photographers. You keep your attention primarily focused on him, and honestly it does wonders for tuning everything else out. He primarily keeps his attention on you as well, chatting casually with you instead of talking to the reporters or photographers clambering for his attention. Before you even know it, both of you are being welcomed into the spacious home of the councilman hosting. “Hoskel,” You hear his name murmured by some passing staff.

The two of you are led to a drawing room where everyone is gathering before moving to the dining room for the formal dinner. Your names are both announced by a very distinguished looking butler. As soon as Ez’s name is announced, there’s a moment of stunned silence as people stare at him before the chattering gets even louder, everyone clearly discussing the return of Piltover’s “prodigal explorer.”

You lean close to his ear. “Looks like you’ll be the hot topic as per usual. Granted, I already knew about the “hot” part,” you playfully tease.

He smirks at you. “Ready for the introductions, princess?” He murmurs. “The only important people I don’t see in here are councilor Hoskel and his wife, but I’m sure they’re just playing host.” He squeezes your hand as the first curious guests approach for an introduction. It didn’t take long, but you’re not shocked. Everyone wants to meet and talk to Ezreal.

You’re touched how Ez always makes sure to introduce you when he’s meeting someone. Out of the two of you, he’s always been far more of a social butterfly. Having him do most of the talking works really well for your dynamic. As he introduces you, as always, you are surprised at the number of people who recognize your last name. You’ve always been proud of your father, your mother who is an attorney, and your brother, who is involved in Piltover politics, but now you realize their accomplishments are farther reaching than you even realized. They’re very well respected, even among Piltover’s elite. Knowing how humble you are, Ez also makes sure to brag about your many accomplishments, making you blush and smile shyly before you talk about yourself.

Once there’s a lull in the introductions, you lean over to him again. “It’s kind of you to brag about my accomplishments, Ez, but they really don’t compare to yours. You’re doing the impossible,” you murmur.

He frowns a little bit. “(Y/N) your accomplishments are just as important. Your past successes when you were in music. Your multiple degrees in public health. Your non-profit work in cancer treatment research. Your job literally helps find cures for cancer. Don’t you realize how incredible that is? You’re very easy to brag about, princess. You’ve done incredible things and I’ve always been really proud of you,” he murmurs back passionately.

“Ez….that’s,” you battle speechlessness. After a moment you squeeze the arm you’re holding onto. “You keep saying the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me,” you manage softly, almost fighting back tears. “T-thank you…truly..”

“And I mean all of it, (Y/N). I’m proud to have you in my life, just as I’ve heard you say you’re proud to have me in yours,” he says.

You slide your hand down his arm and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. “I believe you, Ez. And it means so much to me, I can’t even say the proper words. But thank you.” You pause for a moment before leaning over and quickly pecking his cheek.

Such displays of affection in public are rare between the two of you. Neither of you want anyone to get the wrong idea. But he doesn’t look upset. In fact, there’s a very slight twinge of pink on his cheeks along with a shy smile.

Just then, the host and his wife walk in and announce dinner. Everyone is led to the main dining room which is elegantly decorated with a massive table in the middle. Ez leads you to the two chairs with your names in front of them. He’s sitting to your right and the two of you are only a couple seats down from the head of the table. No doubt so Hoskel can ask Ez his own questions about his expedition. Ez pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before pushing your seat closer to the table for you.

You smile at him. “Thank you, Ez. Always a gentleman,” you observe happily before lowering your voice and leaning closer to his ear. “Well at least you are in public.” You smirk so only he can see. “In private with me, you’re certainly no gentleman…”

He gets a wicked grin on his face and winks at you as he leans down, his voice practically a low purr against your ear, “I take offense to that, princess. I believe you thought me quite a gentleman this morning.”

“Only after our shower. Before that, you were only a semi-gentleman, Ezreal.” You grin at him as he sits down next to you. Both of you put your napkins on your laps and look around as everyone else settles in. Tonight you’re dining with quite a few members of Piltover’s elite and regardless if you’re very chatty or not, it’s an interesting people-watching opportunity.

Dinner soon starts with an appetizer of a delicious and light soup that reminds you of gazpacho. Once people settle into the course, conversation continues easily again, and sure enough, one of the guests on your end of the table soon asks Ezreal if it’s true he just returned from an excursion.

Ez nods. “I did. I was in the southwest area of Shurima for two months, looking for a legendary tomb only talked about in ancient manuscripts. The tomb is called the Tomb of the Fallen Lovers. Supposedly it’s where an old king went mad and buried himself alive after witnessing the death of his beloved queen via torture when their kingdom was invaded.”

A hush falls over the table as he speaks, everyone eager to hear his story. “How tragic!” You hear someone murmur to their table mate.

Ez turned his head toward the commenter. “Yes it was tragic. What made it even more tragic was she hadn’t been tortured at all. It was all the cruel illusion of an enemy mage. So his queen was unharmed all this time. Then she went mad with grief when she learned what happened to her husband, sealing herself in with him. The tomb is believed to be cursed and anyone who enters will see one of their loved ones being tortured in order for them to lose their will to live, just as the king did. And that’s just one trap protecting the tomb. There are many others as well,” he explained.

He pauses a moment to build up anticipation. Once he looks around, he continues, “The traps were both physical traps, and mental traps caused by magic. And they were hiding things. Elixirs, amulets, and other treasures. Which I was able to retrieve.”

Ez then goes into a longer explanation of a lot of the physical traps he faced. You find yourself getting more and more tense as he explains all the dangers he experienced. He’d really been in quite a bit of peril, and that was upsetting for you to think about. Though you know he is extremely capable, you don't enjoy thinking about your best friend being in danger. As he continues, you’re really hoping Ez can’t see the slight tremor of your soup spoon.

It seems you aren’t so lucky at avoiding Ez’s keen sense of observation. After a couple more moments of him talking, you feel a warm hand gently slide onto your right knee under the table. His hand is over the fabric of your dress, but the thin tulle isn’t much of an insulator from his body heat.

You subtly switch your soup spoon to your left hand so you can covertly slide your right hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze to give your permission to his touch. You then remove your hand from his so you can continue to act as if you’re just listening to his story casually, like everyone else. Internally though, your brain is practically short circuiting as his hand very slowly makes its way up your thigh, above your dress. It takes every ounce of your control to keep from blushing wildly as his thumb gently traced the letters of his name, your name, and then other words you can’t make out against your skirt.

This smart smart man. He knows what he’s doing. You think you’d be used to it by now, with the number of times he’s done it, but every time, his gentle touch manages to completely snare your attention. Soon enough you’re not listening at all to the words of his story, distracted to the point of only focusing on keeping your face pleasantly impassive.

Eventually he gives your thigh one last squeeze before moving his hand back down to your knee. It’s his own way of warning you he’s winding down his story, allowing you time to gradually tune back into his words.

The next person to speak is councilor Hoskel. “Ezreal, you’ve been to many places very few of us could comprehend. Places filled with all sorts of traps, both physical and magical, as you say. What has been the worst or scariest trap you’ve ever faced to get an artifact?”

The unexpected happens. You feel Ezreal, nearly unshakable in all things, freeze and stiffen. His hand on your knee grips a little tighter, as if he’s trying to keep himself anchored to you and to reality. You glance at him, keeping a straight face even as you’re increasingly alarmed to notice he’s gone pale. He’s hesitating, and you can tell by how tense he is this question makes Ezreal think of something that truly rattled him. You hate seeing your usually unflappable partner-in-crime so tense.

As you lace your fingers with his hand on your knee, squeezing his hand reassuringly, you do something you tend to avoid doing at these events. You draw attention to yourself.

Your words to the councilman are coated in a deceptively polite coolness. “Councilor Hoskel, are you aware how insensitive your question is?” It’s a blatantly bold statement, especially to a member of Piltover’s ruling council, but your loyalty to Ez has you speaking without a filter, and well, it’s too late to take it back now.

The rest of the diners sitting around you let out a soft gasp. Hoskel himself looks stunned at your audacity. “Insensitive? Please elaborate,” he demands.

You stare him down as you gently squeeze Ezreal’s hand again, a silent indicator that you’re gladly taking this man on. “I’m sure Ezreal would rather not relive something he classifies as “the worst trap he’s ever faced.” We heard at the beginning of his story the tale of the fallen lovers and how the tomb came to have its name. That entire series of events was caused by an extremely cruel moment of magic. As Ezreal told us, that curse still exists meaning anyone who enters they tomb will see a realistic illusion of someone they love dearly being violently tortured and killed. For the sake of my argument, I’ll use that trap as my example. This is a rhetorical question, but if it were you, would you want to remind yourself of the time you saw an illusion of your lovely wife in that situation?” You say, pausing a moment to let what you just said sink in with everyone before continuing.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to relive that moment, especially not if I only recently experienced it for the first time anyway. That is just one of many psychological, mystical, and physical traps Ezreal has faced across the continent, and not even just the continent, but in that tomb alone, as he just told us. If it were me, the last thing I’d like to do is think about all the moments I faced intense magic or weapons that were set with the sole purpose of killing me. Especially when I must think about said moments because someone wants to be entertained by my answer. That seems like it’s own unique form of psychological torture,” you observe quietly but firmly. “In Piltover, we’ve seen the beauty of magic and human ingenuity, using Mr. Talis’ burgeoning HexTech as an example. What Ezreal does on his expeditions repeatedly brings him face-to-face with magic’s cruelty, as well as the dangerous cunning of humanity. Horrific things you and I could never dare to imagine.” You never once take your eyes off of Hoskel’s face, and you take great pride in the fact that he’s the one to first look away.

Hoskel finally meets your eyes again and nods. His acknowledgment is begrudging as he says, “I see your reasoning. You have an excellent point, Miss…”

“(Y/L/N),” you quickly finish his sentence for him.

Hoskel studies you closely. “Like the history professor at the academy?”

You nod. “Yes sir, he’s my father,” you explain. “My mother is one of the personal attorneys for councilor Kiramman and her family. You also work with my twin brother. He’s a member of the sub council that oversees daily academy affairs.” You explain proudly. You then do another thing you try to avoid at all costs. You brag about yourself, “I myself work in the non-profit sector helping run clinical trials for cancer drugs. It might not be the most “glamorous” work, but I’m proud to do it and try to make a difference in the lives of Piltovans.” Bragging about yourself isn’t something you like to do at all, but you know how elite society craves social connections, and you fear it’s needed in order to make your point to the arrogant man. At least you can brag about the rest of your family, who you are extremely proud of.

Hoskel looks at you with newfound respect. “House (Y/L/N) has done quite well for itself. I should have known who you were. I’d heard you were the one usually found on Ezreal’s arm when he’s at an event such as this, and now I understand why. You and your family are quite impressive.

You smile at Ez, who is looking far more normal-colored at this point, and run your thumb over his knuckles under the table before speaking. “Ezreal and I have been very close friends for almost two decades. We’ve known each other since early childhood. While he brags about my accomplishments, as well as the accomplishments of my family, I certainly don’t think my family’s social connections or achievements are why he invites me.”

It’s at this point you feel Ez squeeze your hand, silently signaling to you he’s jumping back into the conversation. “(Y/N) is right. I bring her because there is no one who understands me better nor is there anyone I trust more. Though I am more than happy to brag about (Y/N) at any time to those who will listen. She’s extremely impressive as we’ve all heard.”

Hoskel nods. “So she is,” he agrees. “And wise. She’s correct. My question to you was insensitive. I apologize, Ezreal. I spoke without thinking.”

Ezreal nods once to the councilor, acknowledging and accepting his apology through the simple gesture.

As the appetizer course is cleared and fragrant roast is set in front of you, you lean over to Ezreal and whisper, “Are you alright, Ez? Based on your reaction I figured that question brought back things you’d rather forget. I didn’t mean to step in as I know you can handle yourself, but…I…”your voice trails off as you hope you didn’t overstep.

Ez looks over at you and squeezes the hand he’s still holding. “Thank you for stepping in. I mean it. You’re exactly right. It brings things to mind I never want to think about again,” he whispers back. “But on a lighter note, how many people can say they have someone in their corner ready to take on a damn council member for them? You hid it very well, but I know you. You were absolutely furious with him.

You nod. “I was livid with him, yes,” you admit. “And I think my mother would be quite proud of how I respectfully tore him down a couple pegs. The question just made me so angry. Hadn’t he been paying attention? Magic and humanity can be cruel.”

“They certainly can be. But anyway, maybe I should start calling you “Angel,” since you were my avenging angel just now,” his voice takes on a playful tone as he responds.

You feel your cheeks get a little warm. “I don’t hate it. Test it out on me once the dancing starts, yeah?” You murmur with a wink.

He squeezes your hand one last time before letting go of it so he can eat the main course, nodding at you. “Good plan, princess."

“Am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart?”

The rest of dinner goes by without any fuss, and soon everyone is excused to gather in the ballroom for dancing. Ez stands and helps you up, again offering a stable arm for you to hold. He murmurs close to your ear, “Ready, Angel?”

You smile and murmur back low against his ear, “A. Yes I am ready. B. Oh I like the new nickname….it gets my stamp of approval.”

He chuckles, “Good because I like it too.”

“Now since it’s been two months, how worried should I be about my feet this evening, hrm?” You tease. You don’t really mean it. Ezreal is a surprisingly divine dancer. He always says that his dancing classes as a kid made his footwork much more agile for his expeditions, and you believe the agility he needs on his expeditions has turned him into an even better dancer.

You glance over to see Ezreal smiling widely at you. He gently squeezes your arm holding onto him. “I feel like I should be asking you that, Angel. You’re in heels this evening,” he murmurs.

You give him a playful pout. “Because of you, Ezreal! You picked out my footwear for tonight.”

He laughs. “So I did. I suppose any damage I take is my own doing.”

“Oh shush,” you giggle as you playfully swat his arm. “You’re skilled enough to deal with my two left feet.”

He smirks widely at you as the two of you find yourself in a beautiful ballroom. There are multiple doors opening to more private balconies, as well as to let air in. There’s also a bar where flutes of champagne and sparkling rosé are being poured. It’s a luxurious space, perfect for someone trying to show off his wealth and power.

You tilt your head towards the bar. “I didn’t have any of the wine with dinner, so I think I’d like some sparkling wine now. Care to join me?”

He instantly starts leading you that direction. “Of course, princess. That sounds like a great idea,” he easily agrees.

Once the two of you have your sparkling wines, him champagne, you the dry sparkling rosé, he leads you by the hand to one of the smaller more private balconies. On the side of the room he picks, there’s only the one, so it really is more like a completely private balcony just for the two of you. He draws the set of curtains in front of the door to show it's occupied. There’s a little table set up, and there’s plenty enough space for two people to dance.

You smile at him and say, “Thank you…my social battery was getting pretty drained when it came to people that weren’t you. This is perfect, Ez. Can we stay out here for a little bit?”

“Angel, we can stay out here as long as you’d like. I was also pretty done with most of the people in there,” he murmurs back as he wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you against his side, looking at you fondly. “We should be able to hear the music out here as well, so we don’t even have to go back inside for dancing.”

You sip your rosé and gently rest your head against his shoulder as you and him just watch the sunset. “That sounds…perfect,” you sigh happily.

“Glad to hear it, Angel. I aim to please,” he says.

You glance up at him with a shy smile. “Ezreal, you do an excellent job of pleasing me. In every way that matters and even some that don’t,” you admit. It’s quite an intimate admission, but it’s the truth. Even just being with him, standing here, makes you so very happy.

His eyes light up. “Do I?” he asks in a murmur. “Good. Since we’re being honest with each other, I can tell you that you also do an excellent job of pleasing me, again in all the ways that matter and even those that don’t. Always.”

You finish your wine as he’s talking, gently rubbing his back with the arm you put around him, the one not holding your flute. As he finishes talking, you lean up and kiss his cheek. “Ez, you are so important to me, and I hope you know that. My life would be infinitely darker without you in it,” you say, meaning every single word.

He turns his head and kisses your temple gently. His lips linger on your skin as he quietly confesses, “I do know that. I hope you know I feel the same way about you. A life without you…well that wouldn’t be living to me.”

You look at him as your heart speeds up from his incredibly tender words and the incredibly soft expression he’s looking at you with. “Ezreal…” you whisper, stunned. Tonight alone he’s managed to render you speechless twice by saying the absolute sweetest things. You reach up and cup his cheek, returning his soft expression with one of your own.

Just then, the music starts, disrupting the moment and causing both of you to jump in surprise a little since you were so focused on each other.

You can’t help but start giggling, “Fuck, that scared me!” You lean your head against his shoulder as you continue giggling, and eventually Ez joins in laughing with you, leaning his head on yours for a moment before stepping back from you and facing you.

“Now that we have music, Angel, may I have this dance?” Ezreal asks with a smirk and a well practiced bow, holding his hand out for you to take.

You deposit your empty flute on the little side table before turning back to him and curtsying. “I’d be delighted to give you this dance,” you say, playfully sweet as you place your hand in his, smiling as he easily pulls you closer.

His arms both snake around your waist as the two of you slowly start to sway to the music. Your left arm goes up around his shoulders, while your right hand gently comes up to rest on his chest where his heart is beating. You sigh happily as you let him lead.

He smiles softly at you. “Is this alright, princess?” He asks gently.

You give him a tender smile in return. "Of course," you murmur. “Ez?”

“Yes, Angel?” His soft response gently floats around you, almost like a hug.

“It’s funny you say, Angel, because if you get something new to call me, can I call you something new? You call me Princess, baby, and Angel, while I just call you Ez and Indiana Jones. That seems a little uneven to me."

He smirks gently at you. “I suppose it is uneven. I have no issues with you calling me something else. What were you thinking?” He voices curiously.

“Now of course this would just be between us two when we’re in private, but since you call me baby, could I call you that?” Your voice is shy as you ask the question. “I-I understand if you don’t want me to though, and I can find something else. It just seemed easiest since you already call me that.”

“No, you’re right, that makes sense. Sure, Angel. I have no issues with you calling me that,” he murmurs gently.

You smile brightly at him. “Thank you, baby.” You test out the new nickname. “Oh! What do you think?”

“I like it. It gets my full seal of approval,” Ez states with a grin.

Both of you laugh as you continue to dance with each other, softly chatting for a little bit. Eventually though, you two are just swaying back and forth in comfortable silence, your foreheads resting against one another. The position is so beautifully and peacefully intimate. You’ve never felt as safe as you do on this balcony. And as you realize it, you’re almost a little frightened, as odd as it sounds.

You’ve danced with Ezreal at these sorts of events hundreds of times over the years, but the last few times? Well, you realize they’ve all started feeling like this. Like it’s just you two while everything else is tuned out. Your heart keeps skipping so many beats, all because of one person, the man currently holding you in his arms, and it terrifies you to think about.

Your thoughts start to race as this realization sinks in. Oh shit...what the hell have I done to myself? What have I done in general?? Oh my god….oh my dear fucking god…am I…falling in love with him? Frankly you’re pretty sure you know the answer but you're refusing to believe that right now. That would mean admitting to breaking your own condition you put forth the morning you two agreed to this whole thing. “Condition number 4. No falling in love with each other.”

No, of course I’m not falling in love with him. I’m just surprised because he’s been so sweet since he’s been home this time. It’s because he’s been gone for two months, that’s all. Nothing else. Definitely nothing potentially friendship-ruining. Nope. Absolutely not. Everything is just fine. At this point you’re basically willing yourself to believe that because the alternative isn’t pretty in the slightest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice your arm around his shoulder tightening and your hand on his chest closing into a small fist, but Ezreal does. He can tell you’re completely distracted by something, so he gently kisses your forehead and murmurs softly, “Everything alright, princess? You’re really tense all of a sudden.”

You blink at him in surprise as his gentle voice snaps you back to the present. “O-oh! Y-yes, s-sorry. I didn’t mean to woolgather. I think my feet just finally registered I’m in heels. And they’ve started to hurt a bit. I-it was bound to happen eventually during the evening.” Your excuse is a little weak, but it’s not completely a lie. Your feet are starting to hurt because of the heels.

He nods. “Got it,” he says. “Would you like to sit? Or after one more song we can go home? Whatever you’d like.”

You give him a slightly shaky smile. “One more dance sounds good, Ez,” you decide.

He’s known you long enough though to see that something really has you bothered, and while he knows well that you and heels don’t get along, he’s pretty sure there’s something else in addition to your feet hurting, but he knows better than to push you to talk about it, just as you didn’t push him this morning to talk about what happened on his expedition. He spins you one more time under his arm before gently stepping back.

You hate how the cells in your body immediately seem to protest his absence once he’s away from you, but you can’t seem to help it.

He gives you a bow and murmurs. “The conversation from dinner still has me a little tense. I think going home is wise, Angel. Is that alright with you?"

You start to relax as you nod.

“I know these aren’t your favorite things to go to, so thank you again for coming with me. Truly. There’s no one I’d rather go with,” he says with a small but genuine smile.

Internally, that sets off your alarm bells again. Oh god he can’t say stuff like that to me. I’ll start to believe it…He says it so casually too…fuck me…damnit this isn’t good.

Externally though you manage to keep a calm demeanor, smiling gently at him and squeezing the hand he offers you. “These aren’t my favorite things, true, but you make them much more tolerable,” you admit. You are being honest there. While you might be freaking out inside, you’re not afraid to admit that being with Ez does make elitist society bullshit like this better.

The two of you re-enter the ballroom, leaving the almost cozy little world you created for yourselves on the balcony. The loud hum of conversation is a little jarring compared to the companionable silence and soft conversation the two of you found yourselves in moments ago.

Despite your prior warning thoughts to yourself, you find yourself gripping Ezreal’s hand a little tighter as he leads you through the room to where councilor Hoskel is standing.

Ezreal speaks once he has Hoskel’s attention. “Councilor, we greatly appreciate the invitation. Dinner was delicious and the company delightful. Unfortunately, I find myself still not fully recovered from my journey. I hope you’ll forgive our abrupt departure.”

You listen as he easily slips into the high-society member his parents, when they were here, and uncle trained him to be. You, Ez, and your brother even shared the same cotillion tutor when you were younger, and in moments like this, you’re grateful for the stuffy old woman and her lessons.

You step up next to Ezreal and smile at the elder man. “Yes, truly, thank you for hosting us. I hope the rest of the evening runs just as smoothly as it has so far,” you add on to Ez’s statement.

The councilman smiles at the two of you before jovially saying, “I’m very glad both of you could make it. I look forward to following your next journey, Ezreal. I’m even happy to help fund it when the time comes. And you, Miss (Y/L/N), your future is very bright. Your willingness to always speak your mind and make people listen is unconventional, but very admirable. I’m excited to follow your career, help where I can, and see where you go. I initially thought the friendship between the two of you was an odd pairing, but after the conversation at dinner, I see why Ezreal is always asking you to join him at society events. You clearly do understand him better than anyone. You two make an excellent team, the type of team that only comes from knowing each other as long as you two have. Treasure it in whatever form it takes. Companionship such as this is extremely rare to find.”

You and Ezreal speak simultaneously, “I will.”

You look over at him and blush a little.

Ezreal looks back at you, his expression a little surprised and the very slightest amount of pink on his cheeks. He quickly recovers and turns his attention back to Hoskel. “We appreciate the kind words, sir. Please enjoy the rest of your evening,” he voices before squeezing your hand and leading you from the ballroom to the front of the house where the butler was already informed of your intended departure and had the fancy little carriage brought back around for you two.

You gladly let Ez assist you into the carriage before scooting over on the seat so he can slide in next to you. “That was…that was quite the evening,” you murmur as you gently lean against him and rest your head on his shoulder. “For fuck’s sake, I took on a Piltover councilor. During the soup course!”

Ez’s arm makes its way around you. “For me, nonetheless. It was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen, (Y/N),” he chuckles softly before gently turning your head to look at him with a soft finger on your chin so he can gently peck your lips. “Thank you, Angel,” he whispers.

You just can’t help it as you lean forward and peck his lips in return, almost like a second nature response at this point. “You’re welcome, Ez. I'll always stand up for the people in my life that I are care about. You know that," you murmur affectionately.

He gently smiles and pulls you closer, allowing you two the rest of the ride to unwind. He’s just so sweet and gentle with you, but even then you can tell something is still a little off with him. You wager he’s likely still a little shaken up by the question he was asked at dinner, and you can’t blame him. While you don’t know everything Ez has faced, you know enough that pondering the “worst” trap he’s seen must be extremely difficult.

“Ez? Dinner and dancing wore me out, so I think I’m just going to undress and relax in bed for a while and read,” you say.

“I like that idea, Angel. I think I’ll join you, if that’s alright?" His voice goes into a very very gentle tease, “If it helps to convince you, I’ll provide the cuddles…”

You can’t help but giggle softly. “I was hoping you would,” you admit, making him smile widely at you.

Once the carriage gets to the front of his house, he gets out and hops down before turning back to help you. Since it’s really just you two and the driver who doesn’t really care, Ez makes it easy on both of you by just sweeping you into his arms and carrying you inside with a gentle, “So you don’t have to walk anymore in those heels.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Thank you Prince Charming,” you sigh happily as he once again carries you easily upstairs and to his room before gently setting you on the bed and helping you take off your heels.

“Happy to serve you, my princess,” he says with a wink, making you laugh. He then moves around and helps you unzip your dress so you can remove it, letting out a low whistle as he again sees the purple set. “Again, you look fucking stunning,” he murmurs. He softly kisses along your neck and jaw as he helps you remove your hose and the rest of the lingerie.

As he focuses his attention on undressing you, you make sure to do the same for him, quickly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his suit, pants, vest, and dress shirt. As soon as his shirt is unbuttoned your hands are on his chest, savoring the delicious warmth of his skin and the sure “thump” of his heartbeat. You can’t help but look up and giggle softly at him, “How unfair…you’ve thoroughly distracted me.”

“Just as you do to me, Angel,” he chuckles as he undresses the rest of the way. “But, let’s at least get your makeup off and our nighttime stuff done before we distract each other too much, yeah?”

You nod and stand, pecking his lips before you go into the bathroom with your toiletries kit, happily beginning to take off your makeup. You call out to him, “Why is it that getting unready almost feels better than getting ready?? I love dressing up, especially in the beautiful things you so kindly get me, but the feeling of removing my bra for the day and getting my face washed and teeth brushed is almost…divine!”

He comes and joins you in the bathroom, sharing the sink with you. “It’s a good question. I can’t relate to the bra part,” he muses with a grin, “but definitely agree about the feeling of getting the night routine done. Maybe it’s because, once you get it done, that’s when you feel like you can most truly relax.”

You nod in agreement as you brush your teeth. He has an excellent point, and you make sure to tell him so once you don’t have a mouth full of toothpaste. “See, now this is why I like you. Most people would write my musings off as silly ramblings, but not you, baby. You gave me a genuine answer, and I agree with you. I think that’s a great reason!” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment and smile at him in the mirror.

He laughs. “Anyone who dares to call your brilliant mind silly can fight me. We have the most interesting conversations, Angel.”

You blush happily and kiss his bare shoulder before returning to your night routine. Before long, both of you are cuddling in bed, your legs tangled together and his arms around you as you rest against him and happily read your book. The moment is so lovely and peaceful, you practically forget the stressful thoughts you had earlier. Soon enough, you’re falling asleep, nuzzling his neck as he tells you a story about one of his happier adventures.

“No I don’t care about the pain; I’ll walk through fire and through rain; just to get closer to you…”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep when you’re woken up by a soft whimper. Everything is still pitch black out and you’re listening to the stillness to see if it happens again. Eventually you hear it again, and this time you realize it’s coming from Ez who has started shifting in his sleep, based on the movement of the mattress.

“Ez?” you murmur sleepily, wondering if he’s awake. It’s only when he doesn’t respond that you realize he’s likely having a dream.

Suddenly you hear a “(Y/N)? No….no stop!” slip from Ez’s lips.

Oh, he’s sleep talking. He’s saying out loud what he’s saying in his dream, you realize. You focus back on him, trying to figure out what sort of dream he could be having that would make him say your name.

Suddenly, he speaks again, this time his voice a lot more….panicked, which is never a word you associate with your level-headed best friend. “(Y/N)! No! S-Stop! Let her go! She has nothing to do with this! Hurt me if you must, but please don’t hurt her! I’m the one who entered this tomb. N-No! (Y/N)! Kill me, damnit! My life for hers! Just let her go! (Y/N) please hold on! I’m almost there!” His voice is frantic and he’s starting to struggle in the blankets, as if desperately trying to get to you.

Your alarm skyrockets as it’s clear he’s having a terrible nightmare about one of his expeditions and it involves you being hurt in some way. You quickly throw on the lamp on the bedside table and carefully move the covers off of him. While you’re worried about him, you know panicking won’t do anything to help. Your voice is as calm as possible as you shake Ez’s bare shoulder and say, “Ez? Ezreal? Baby, wake up. It’s just a nightmare, Ezreal. It’s (Y/N). Ez! Wake up.”

“No!” he cries out desperately as he suddenly awakens and startles up. His breathing is ragged, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s trembling and gripping the blanket like a lifeline.

“Ezreal?” You gently turn his head to look in your direction. His eyes are wide and unseeing in a haunted expression, and it’s clear he’s not fully awake yet. You cup his jaw, kiss his forehead, and tenderly wipe away his tears. You continue to speak to him in soothing tones as he shakes like a leaf, “Shhhhh Ez, you’re ok. It’s me. It’s (Y/N). Look at me, baby. Focus on me. Focus on my voice. I’m safe, Ezreal. I’m completely safe. Nothing bad happened to me. It was only a bad dream, Ez. We’re safe in Piltover. We’re safe in your room.”

You note the moment he’s fully awake by the spark of recognition in his eyes.

“(Y/N)? You’re ok? You’re not hurt?” he says, his eyes and voice still holding some panic as he frantically looks you over, hands skimming you to physically check your well being for himself.

Whatever he saw has him absolutely terrified. You’ve never seen him so rattled, and it’s honestly jarring, but you don’t let that show, still intent on calming him at the moment.

You gently rest your forehead against his to get him to really focus on you, continuing to wipe away any tears that fall. Your heart squeezes as you continue try and ease the fear from his eyes. “Shhhh. Shhh Ezreal…breathe slowly for me. I’m ok…I’m safe, baby. I promise you, I’m perfectly fine. It was only a nightmare. We’re together, Ez….we’re safe,” you coo softly before wrapping your arms securely around his shoulders and nuzzling his neck just as he likes. “Feel this? You’re here, safe in my arms…” You softly kiss his cheek before gently kissing his lips, lingering until you feel him start to relax against you and feel his arms wind around your waist to pull you closer.

Once you pull back, you again rest your forehead against his and look him in the eye. As you feel him stop shaking, you peck his lips another time. When you eventually move one of your hands back up to his cheek, he eagerly leans into your touch. You tenderly whisper, “That’s it, Ez….back with me now?”

He sighs deeply and nods, closing his eyes and just letting his forehead rest against yours. His breathing slowly regulates and one of his hands comes up to cover the one you placed on his cheek. “Thank god…it was just a nightmare…or a memory, I suppose,” he murmurs so softly you barely hear it.

“I wonder when you go if I stay on your mind.”

You trace along his jaw lightly with your thumb as you softly inquire, “A memory?” You think for a moment. “Ez, I’m not going to make you tell me anything you don’t want to. But, may I ask some general yes or no questions so I can understand what’s going on? You don’t even have to verbally respond, you can just nod or shake your head if that’s easier. You may also stop me at any time, no questions asked.”

He laces his other hand with yours and nods, giving your fingers a squeeze.

You gently squeeze back. “Thank you for trusting me, baby,” you murmur. “To start, you said this is a memory, so this is something you saw?”

He nods and squeezes your fingers before whispering, “Yes. On my most recent expedition. The one I just returned from.”

You gently lay down, silently directing him to lay on your chest, melting as he rests his head where he can hear your heartbeat. Once he’s comfortable, you get back into your line of questioning.

“I see. Was this the trap you didn’t want to discuss at dinner, and the thing that happened that you didn’t want to talk about this morning?” Your voice is soft but your curiosity is unmistakable.

He squeezes your hand tightly and nods. You softly reach down and cup his jaw, melting even more as he closes his eyes, turns his head, and nuzzles your palm.

“Ezreal, did…did you see m-me being tortured when you were in the Tomb of the Fallen Lovers? Was that the trap?” you ask hesitantly. Based on what you heard him say during his nightmare, and hearing what he's told you so far, you can't imagine what else it would be.

He stiffens again and nods, looking up at you with a haunted expression similar to the one he wore when he wasn’t quite fully awake from his nightmare. Once he starts speaking, he whispers so softly you barely hear him, but his whisper is thick with emotion, “(Y/N)…I saw you being tortured and killed. I heard your screams and sobs as they hurt you. I saw you look at me with terror in your eyes as you cried out for me, desperately begging me to save you, to stop the pain. My very soul felt like it was being ripped apart every time I heard you say my name in such pain, in such fear. It was fucking unbearable, (Y/N). It was as if my deepest nightmare had come to life. I was going insane. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to you. I could do nothing to help you…and then…I-I couldn’t save you in time. I’d never felt so helpless or useless in my life. I believed I failed to keep you alive, (Y/N). That very nearly broke me…completely. What good is my magic, what good am I, if I can’t protect or save those I care for most?”

You look back at him with wide eyes, your heart breaking at the distress creeping back into his voice.

He pauses for a moment to take a shaky breath. “The only thing that snapped me out of it was remembering the rest of the original story. How it was just a cruel illusion on the king and that the queen was really unharmed. That made me remember that you were still here in Piltover, that you hadn’t come with me to Shurima so it made no sense for your captors to have you. That’s what finally made the illusion and trap fall apart. But, fuck it was so realistic…” his voice finally breaks and you feel warm tears gently drip onto your bare chest as his breathing gets unsteady and he again starts to tremble.

You move your hand up to gently wipe away his tears again. Your voice is gentle and tender as you murmur to him, “Shhh, oh baby. Oh my god…oh Ezreal…” you’re struggling not to let emotion overwhelm you too. “No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it. I’m sure Hoskel’s question and the discussion at dinner had something to do with the memory reappearing in your nightmares. Your strength astounds me, Ez. I’d never want to relive that either if I were in your shoes and I’d seen realistic illusions of you being h-hurt or w-worse. Seeing that happen to you…even if it just turned out to be a t-terrifying illusion…God, Ez, it would completely r-ruin me.” You can’t help but let out a shudder as the horrific thought goes through your mind.

His voice sounds softly, “I also knew if I mentioned that trap they’d ask who I saw in there. You know how nosy that group is. And I didn’t want you finding out I saw you in there at the same time as other people, not when it’s none of their damn business. I wanted to tell you myself, in private. You deserved to hear it from me in private. That’s not the type of news to surprise someone with in public. I respect you too much and you’re too important to me.”

You gently shift down the bed so you can better cuddle him. He immediately nuzzles your neck, allowing you access to kiss his temple. “I’m very glad you told me in private, Ezreal. We’ll need to talk about this more later, because I’m sure it means something important that I can’t comprehend at…” you peek at his clock, “…3:26 in the morning. But for now, let’s table this extremely distressing topic and just focus on trying to get back to sleep. What else can I do to help you right at this moment to help you relax? Would you like some tea? Warm sweetmilk? Water?” You ask softly, playing with his hair.

He thinks for a moment before looking up at you and murmuring, “Warm sweetmilk doesn’t sound bad right now. Can I come with you to make it? I think getting out of bed for a bit would be helpful.”

You nod and trace his lips with your fingertips as you utter a simple, “Of course, Ez…”

You blush as he gently grabs your hand and places a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt and boxers. He tosses you another one of his shirts and then the neatly folded underwear of the lacy purple set so you can also get dressed.

Once you are ready, he offers his hand, giving you a shaky smile as you lace your fingers with his and give his hand a squeeze before letting him lead you into the rest of the dark house.

Despite the darkness and many stairs, thanks to Ez’s guidance, you never feel unsteady or unsure of your step. As the two of you move quietly, you can’t help but silently ponder everything you’ve seen and heard tonight. Why would he see me in the trap? I-is this why he’s been so very sweet lately? It’s overwhelming to think about, especially considering the thoughts you had earlier at the party. As well, for your own sanity, you don’t want to consider how very close you might have come to losing Ez. After calming him, the last thing you want to do is work yourself into a panic. You push those troubling thoughts to the side and move back to the present to focus on making both of you some much-needed warm sweetmilk.

He easily guides you to the kitchens, grabbing a couple mugs while you grab a pot and a cold bottle of milk. The two of you meet back at the stove and you’re relieved to see how he’s already far more relaxed than when he woke up. You pour the milk into a pot and add some sugar, anise, and a couple dashes of cinnamon while Ez easily gets the stove going. You grab a wooden spoon and carefully place the pot over the heated grate. As the milk heats to a simmer, you stir occasionally, keeping a close eye on things and getting lost in the routine of the recipe.

“You’re quite good at that, it seems,” a low voice murmurs by your ear as Ezreal wraps his arms around you from behind and sleepily nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He lays feather soft kisses there, making you sigh softly and tilt your head a little so he has more access.

“I happen to be a sweetmilk enjoyer when I can’t get to sleep, which is unfortunately more common than I'd care to admit. Are you trying to distract me? You’ll make me scald the milk, Ez,” you voice, mock offense coloring your tone.

You shiver as you hear the smirk in his voice as he whispers, “Would you rather I stop, Angel?”

You’re infinitely glad your teasing Ezreal is back after everything he saw in his mind, even if he’s making it much harder to focus on stirring the milk. “I mean my answer is no, baby, but, since I’m mianly making this for you, maybe you can wait until we’re back upstairs and not dealing with appliances that involve heat. You’re well aware of my clumsiness.” you tease right back.

Ez lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine….we can be sensible,” he grumbles, though you can hear the smile he’s trying to hide.

You turn your head slightly and grin, saying, “Out of the two of us, that tends to be my role, yes. The sensible one. You’re the bad influence who managed to corrupt me a little bit. But I’m not really complaining. Being a goody-two-shoes all the time was so stressful.” You finish your point by turning your head a little bit more and kissing his cheek.

“What a pair we make.” This time he definitely can’t hide the smirk on his face.

You laugh as you finish heating the milk, straining out the larger spices as you carefully pour the liquid into the two mugs he brought over. “Hopefully you like it. There are a million different ways to make warm sweet milk, but this happens to be the way I was taught by my mom,” you say as you hand his mug to him and pick up your own.

“Cheers!” You hold your mug up and smile as he gently clinks his against yours before both of you take a first sip.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs happily, his fond gaze finding you. “That’s so good….that is exactly what I needed. Thank you, (Y/N).”

You smile back at him. “Happy to help, Ez. Always.”

You turn off the stove and put the small pot you used into the sink to be washed later. After you return to him and grab your mug, you take his free hand and lead him back upstairs.

Back in his room, you hand Ezreal your mug so you can climb into bed first, sitting up against the pillows. You then take both mugs as he climbs in and settles next to you. Once you give him back his mug, you wrap your free arm around his back, gently cuddling him.

“Now that we have my second favorite sleep aid, how do you feel?” you ask as he lays his head on your shoulder.

He smiles. “Much better. And cuddles certainly don’t hurt either,” he admits shyly. “But back it up a bit. So sweet milk is your second favorite sleep aid. What’s your first?” He asks curiously, popping his head up and adjusting his position so he can look at you.

You can’t help but blush and let out a giggle before smirking widely at him. “It’s you, Ez. I sleep really well when we’re together. You’re number one because your methods definitely make me feel the…well...best,” you confess, unable to keep from giggling some more when you see surprised, wicked delight flash in his eyes as he starts smirking back at you.

“Well well well,” he murmurs. He gives you a mock bow as best he can in his current position as he leans towards you. “Happy to be of service, my princess,” he whispers playfully into your ear before capturing your lips in another deep kiss that you’re helpless to resist.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was really interesting and fun to write. Like obviously Ezreal comes off as so confident and arrogant almost always, but the man has likely seen some shit in his travels and I wanted to explore that a little. Also I am a SUCKER for a good FWB gone wrong story. It's looking like Chapter 3 will be the last chapter of this particular fic, but I'm enjoying this "universe" so don't be surprised if there is a future one-shot based in it lmao.

[moomeecore]

hey, i hope this isnt rude, but i value your thoughts on betty (and simon!) and i think about your various analytical pieces often.

so i hope this isnt too vague, but. ive been thinking about the ways betty and simon might differ from each other, specifically in the way they view...everything. do you think one of them has a 'sees the big picture but misses the small details' view and the other has a 'gets lost in the details, cant see the big picture' view? im not sure if they differ here, or if they are both the 'gets lost in the details' but going opposite ways...?

FINALLY getting around to awnsering this. i got sick so it took me even longer than i thought it would (had to wait until i could retain coherent thoughts)!!

Ok So, a lot of this is extrapolating (esp for betty) and goes very into more of a headcanons and Personal Interpretations area than a, like, canon analysis. in part bc the show dosen’t give us a ton of content of these characters (i mean, there’s plenty of simon content as ice king but im talking about pre and post ice king simon here). but yea im just gonna ramble. dont take this super seriously btw guys. again a lot of this is just personal Interpretation yknow

SO i think simon is definitely a “gets lost in the details guy”. at least like, overall. that man overanalyzes things until he goes into a state of paralysis and then he just passes out. in some ways he might better about this post being-freed-from-the-curse, on the basis of "had to survive the apocalypse by thinking on his feet", but also worse about it bc of the lasting impacts of having been ice king. because one of the Big Things about ice king is that he almost never thought anything through and just did things as soon as he thought of them. i think simon probably really wants to be Not Like Ice King and so might be scared of making choices too fast or acting too impulsive. i imagine he’s very worried about behaving like ice king and thats something thats in the back of his mind most of the time, impacting his confidence in his own choices & actions. but also f&c sorta shows that he has that issue of trauma responses causing him to have emotional outbursts and make quick decisions. so thats something to keep in mind.

i think he's, like stuck in a state of being scared to do things without thinking really hard abt them but then sometimes he does that and then he usually regrets it and feels really awful afterwards. not always guilty-awful even. f&c seems to show him feeling angry a lot. to me simon deals not just with guilt over being ice king or recovering from being ice king or Having strong reactions to things or making choices he regrets… but also with Anger At The Situation - a lot of feeling confused and not sure what to do and overwhelmed, i think . (i like that they let him be angry and frustrated, not just sad and depressed. i think this is very realistic to trauma related emotional responses)

the other thing abt simon is he tends to follow other people's lead on a lot of things. i think he just likes not having to deal with the pressure of making decisions. he seems more inclined to lead around f&c than around, like, finn, though. and betty. but i think that’s in part because he was taking on a protector role w them. but yeah. he does a lot of crazy shit in f&c but very noticeably does not really act as a lead decision maker. until they get to the vampire world and they get attacked for a second that man is yelling orders and breaking a chair over his knee and pulling out a pocket knife to carve it into a stake lighting fast. which i loved that. i loved that he gained so much confidence from being in Panic Mode when confronted w vampires Because those where something he had to deal with in the apocalypse when raising marcy. he had to know what to do for marcys sake. other than that tho he's usually making suggestions at most. and agreeing to do scary crazy shit lmao . EXCEPT he decides on his own in secret to try and contact golb . hehe (motivated by wants to see his wife)

(it also seems like when he feels more confident in something he's much more capable of making choices. (makes sense) he wasnt paralyzed by anxiety when going on that research expedition with betty, probably because he was literally getting a phd (or had a phd, the show was so weird abt that) in that subject. makes sense he knows what he's doing. and also is interesting bc in ep2 of fionna and cake when he goes on an Adventure with finn he's very scared and nervous, but then talks about how he "used to be quite the adventurer in [his] day", which fits into the theme f&c had w his character where he feels out of place and less confident bc his whole ass profession isn't really relevant anymore, and everything is so different from how it used to be. so yeah. current simon has even less self confidence and confidence in his own decision making than Back In The Day simon bc of that)

id like to say that…. i think that the fact that it took betty only a few years to summon and eldritch god to free simon from his curse meanwhile it took simon 12 years to get to the point where he kidnapped a guy to use in a summoning ritual to talk to betty is interesting. bc i really do think they both love each other, and are both obsessive and co dependent. but betty went off the deep end so fast, meanwhile simon took a lot longer to do something comparatively Less Evil for betty. i think that a lot of this is because simon is just less confident in his choices, more nervous about making decisions, and *slower* at making decisions. in part because of a obsessive focus on details (i also think a buncha other stuff contributed to the difference in how long it took betty vs simon to do differing levels of fucked up shit for eachother but Yeah that’s the relevant part.)

i wouldn't say betty is a "think about the big picture, ignore the details" person though, necessarily. maybe compared to simon she is, but she's still a huge fucking nerd. she's an academic! to me she's someone who takes issues and situations that are more subjective and translates them into concretely structured language in order to guide herself through what actions she should take (my friend responded to this with “so what youre saying is betty took a philosophy class and was like ‘aw yes! Math!’” and yeah that is exactly what im saying)

i feel like canon sort of implies this, and definitely doesn't Not Imply It, but i also think canon didn't flesh out her character very well, so in a lot of ways im making my own assertions. but i think she's the type of person who likes to view things in ways that are ....not necessarily less complicated, but more concrete? like she can handle an uber complicated math problem with ease, but the way a math problem is complicated is entirely different from the way a social interaction is complicated, you know. and she's way better equipped for the first one.

so, basically, i think betty would be like: Dosent see the bigger picture.... but in a different way from simon, where instead of getting caught up on and overwhelmed by all the little details, she picks a specific angle to view the situation and then focuses on That, often to the detriment of viewing things from a wider, more complex and nuanced perspective. so better at seeing the bigger picture than simon, but still can miss a Lot…

i also feel like she leans towards viewing things as "identify a problem/issue, then find away to eliminate it" and "identify a goal, and find a way to reach it" . like i feel like she'd tackle social and personal situations in this way. it's not like she can't do things for fun or anything, but like, if she upset simon she'd go into Solving A Problem Mode and be like: “The issue is Simon Is Upset. The goal is Make Simon Not Upset. First i have to identify Why simon is Upset, and then how to make him Not Upset. This is The Current Goal I Must Complete.” like, not in an abstract sense. like shes literally narrating that to herself. i think she likes to focus in on  "what's wrong here and how do i fix it" as opposed to dwelling on emotions and exploring nuance. (which may be a contributor to how she ended up in that “there’s so little me left anymore” state by temple of mars: she was so focused on Fixing the Problem that she didn’t allow herself to really process her feelings too deeply and that took a toll on her mental health.)

simon is maybe more aware of nuance, which could be part of why he gets caught up on details because he's like "this CANT be properly categorized into something more straightforward, there's actually a billion TRILLION little details and that is stressful". like simon desperately wishes things could be simplified down more but is usually like "actually no, a million things are happening actually". he's like me he would get upset if asked to rate his pain or feelings on a number scale at the doctor (i can’t do that shit for the life of me. Those things are far too complicated to put on a number scale in my eyes). meanwhile betty just will force things into concrete categories and steps and factors that Make Sense To Her with intense fervor and if she starts to have a "this is too complicated to address" moment she feels threatened and then tries very hard to reprocess things in a way that is easier, or just does her best to ignore the things that make stuff too complicated to address

i think betty tends to view things in medium-sized chunks that incorporate some but Not All details in a situation, and that she cares about small details and being thorough but feels like accomplishing the goal is the most important thing, so is willing and able to make a quick decision if she feels it's the only choice. like. she had a limited time before the portal closed, and she chose to jump through it, because she thought "the problem is that im not with simon. simon is on the other side of the portal. ill go there" it's not that she doesn't like to think things through. she loves to think things through! its just that OVERALL she is a Doer who wants to solve the problem and thinks taking action and doing something is way better than sitting there and missing an opportunity. betty will think through the details if she has time, but if she doesnt, she just breaks things down into whatever is most easy to digest and process, and then takes the option that seems.like it will get the most desired outcome based on the available info. and also shes just very confident and headstrong. and THATS.  why she punched bella noche

In my eyes betty likes having rules and defined, structured processes about what to do or how to deal with stuff. and she dosen’t really like changing those. she's very autistic. she hates change i think. so does simon. but i think that simon would be more likely to be like: the change in situation is so upsetting that it's making it harder to think and process things, so he just gets overwhelmed and has an even harder time addressing whatever is happening or comprehending it. meanwhile betty is quick to try and find the easiest way to rerout her thinking to fit the new change, she's just really fucking pissed off and stressed out about it (part of this to me is she hates feeling powerless & hates feeling like she might fail). she copes with changes in her surroundings by finding a way to connect the changed situation as well and as fast as possible with her pre existing methods of tackling situations. i think bettys also worse at handling changes in people than changes in situation. to quote my friend when we where texting about this “Situations dont have feelings”.

Like. Betty has so many skills. so much knowledge. but isn’t great with people. And she gets to know people and figures out how to understand them and then THEY CHANGE??? ILLEGAL. and so… like…this is literally her whole thing with simon!! elements seems to imply that betty originally views things as "simon is cursed, i have to fix the curse". but when she makes an attempt to meet simon where he’s at and try to interact with him as ice king, she is unable to handle it. she is upset that he is different, so much so that she concludes the only way to view things is to see them as separate people, even though it was implied that she wasn't doing that before! she was approaching it like he was Simon With Memory Loss…..but then she does her villain betrayal scene and now she's all "things will be back to just me and simon, and you won't exist" . meaning before she directly started interacting with him, she was able to view him as simon, but when she did interact with him for an extended period of time and found out how different he had become, she felt so threatened by this that the only way she could handle it was by switching her view in order to not have to confront the idea that simon could have changed that much. it also meant switching her view to a place where she would be okay hurting simon. but when he starts to protest, get upset, ask what's wrong, and worst of all, insist that he's worthy of respect, that starts to stress her out and she has to talk out loud to herself to reassure herself that she's doing the right thing

and in that scene simon goes "i don't know who this simon guy is, im ice king", which i think is a Big line - he's responded to simon in the past, but doesnt always. Like. he's inconsistent in whether or not he's aware that's a way of referring to him, which makes sense bc he seems to have memory lapses where he remembers things fine one minute and forgets them the next, them remembers about them way later. anyway having him say that simultaneously provides a Confirmation of bettys new perspective, but it also… isn’t meant to. i feel like, to the audience, its saying that "simon has changed so much, he's entirely different now. and this is the way things are, and betty should accept this, but she cant" . to betty its telling her she’s right, but that kind of sucks, because she’s not totally sure how much she wants to be right (she dosen’t want this to be simon, but she also dosen’t want simon to be gone)

(i think the idea of betty Swapping her perspective abt simon during elements as a coping strategy to deal w the panic of What If Simon Is Different + the moral dilemma of potentially hurting him fits nicely into the "betty has bpd" interpretation . my girl is splitting)

(also ik many people interpret simon and ice king as Literally being entirely different people but tbh i think that is way less interesting and doesn't make a lot of sense with the canon. but also ik this is partially because what people consider to be "different people" is subjective.  like it depends somewhat on ur perception of identity and stuff. also having different interpretations is valid and fair and all that - and adventure time is often very loose in its text and there’s lots of ways to interpret it. but whatever man im just saying my feelings and That is and Always Will Be the Same guy to me and i think that perspective is waay more interesting to explore than simon getting possessed by an alternate personality or whatever. so im just going under that interpretation….. i think some ppl would perceive the "im ice king" line as being a conformation of them as separate people but to me it's a more abstract representation of the idea that a Drastic Change has taken place that Cannot be reversed!!.... which. Ok eventually it is but tbh i doubt they even knew how they'd end the show by this point and i still think in the context of elements it still works very well as a way driving home both how betty is Not Handling the Situation Well while also making you empathize with her bc u also know how hard that must have been for her to hear)

i think betty is very person-oriented in a unique way!!she's codependent while also being low empathy, introverted, and in many ways socially inept,  which is an interesting combo! i really get the vibe that she has always struggled socially and had trouble fitting in, so attaches really heavily to people who she does feel a connection to, and works really, really hard to maintain the relationships she has. i like to think she’s scared of rejection…

i think simon is much more empathetic, emotion-driven, and in tune with others than betty, but i also think he can be Very bad at actually understanding other people on many levels - like with his obliviousness to betty being interested in him romantically until she spelled it out for him, or to the impact of bettys earlier sacrifices. simon also, with the mission to get the crown in f&c, despite his empathetic nature and love for his friends, does not seem to consider that putting the crown on would upset his friends. This shows a "focusing on one thing and missing something else" scenario, and perhaps more of a "thinking abt the big picture" (saving f&c's world) over the details (friends would be sad) thing. so that's interesting. (although i think part of this example in particular stems from his self hatred preventing him from really thinking that his friends would be upset if he did that. but in a sense it is focusing on big picture over details). So theres some nuance there i think

BUT Anyway, i think this issue probably is mainly with him struggling to read people, or fully understand others perspectives, despite caring deeply about people and feeling Upset when he can tell other people are Upset. he cares and he feels very emotionally connected to people, especially people he cares about…. he just isn't that great at picking up on things sometimes. (also. Worth noting, i think its def shown that while simon may be very caring towards his friends and is a generally nice and approachable, well meaning person who wants whats best for other people. He still is very capable of Hating People and Doing Bad Things On Purpose. Don’t want to ignore that. also hes very desensitized to bad things happening in many respects lmao. So its not like hes just always super nice and caring and amazing. He still murdered choose goose to death and That is via the power of choose goose being annoying and Simon Loving Betty)

Betty also struggles to understand other people but instead of being downright oblivious to certain things or being unsure and nervous she finds relating to people and understanding their actions and emotions to be actively difficult and makes an active effort to understand people in a bit of a scientist-looking-at-a-subject way. Which can be helpful sometimes and less helpful other times. like. it's good that she has a way to navigate social interactions . but also that way of addressing things isn't always conductive to a healthy relationship, especially when she doesn't really let simon in on the fact that she's making these sort of analyses where she's like "what will maximize Simon Being Happy and how do i accomplish this" sometimes to her own detriment.  simon is just like "wow betty is so confident and good at knowing what she wants" meanwhile betty is like "i will make the best choice For Simon" betty i think is better than simon at reading people but not good at Empathizing With Others Emotions or really Understanding or relating to the emotions behind their actions .

she also is shown to, despite caring So much about simon, not be very considerate or caring towards others (not the same as being low empathy & etc dw im not equating them. Its just on the topic of How She Views Others!!!). To be fair, we don’t see nearly enough of her interacting with people besides simon, but i like to think that she just sorta struggles to really care about and have compassion for Random People but deeply cares about those she is Really close too (but as far as we know, thats just simon)

OVERALLi think they see the world very similarly in some ways and very differently in others and it's an interesting balance. also they are both Autistic. In cconclusion !!

betty

likes to break things down into concrete concepts because she struggles to comprehend more subjective and nuanced experiences, especially in social situations + Feels more comfortable approaching things from a “scientific” perspective because it is familiar and easy for her to navigate; threatened by uncertainty and comforted by things that are more straightforward and well-defined

doesn't dwell on things a ton (esp not as much as simon) because she's very goal-oriented and focused on the Now. she wants to get to the next step. that often then means ignoring Her Own Feelings Or Needs if she deems Other Things to be more relevant or important than them (not good for your mental health) + this also means she’s better at making quick decisions! she cares about details and prefers to have All The Relevant Info but is willing and able to cut things down to a “wider-picture” that helps her make whatever choices will help her achieve her goal - that wider picture just may not always be the Full Actual wider picture.

struggles to put herself in other people's shoes - finds it easier to view herself as an outside party with the goal of achieving the ideal outcome in a social situation. In general has low empathy and struggles to understand/relate to others feelings, which impacts her perspective on things and how she handles/views situations.

(not really mentioned earlier but idk where else to put it:) i also think she has that Autism Trait where you focus in on a specific goal you want to achieve and struggle to focus on anything else until it's accomplished (and that that sort of thinking pattern happened with curing simons curse). where you put off doing anything, even things you could do, until something that you Need to happen (according to your brain, not the real world) happens.  Betty put off being person until simon was saved. she put Everything on hold until she accomplished her mission. and this is in a way a form of not seeing the bigger picture, because its overly focusing on a specific thing at the expense of others

(bettys better at balancing seeing the details & the big picture in a sense, but more like. she picks a medium sized chunk of what is going on and focuses on that and acknowledges details when able to but is willing and able to make split second decisions based on little info and is confident in doing so. but whereas i think simon might have more of a "sees the whole big picture but then gets caught up on the details" thing going on, i think betty just straight up focuses on One Portion of something, of varying sizes, which could or could not he considered a "detail", but then almost completely ignores everything else, viewing things as individual challenges or events that need to be addressed before anything else can be)

simon 

is someone who really likes to think things through, and can easily get hung up on details and can easily get overwhelmed by those details and sent into a state of anxiety-fueled-spiraling or decision making paralysis

this is worse probably for Current simon because he’s also Trying To DIstance Himself from his identity as ice king, and as ice king he had no impulse control and thought things through very little. so simon likely puts even more pressure on himself to think things through! unfortunately hes also Going Through A Lot Emotionally and sometimes that’s too much and he Dosen’t think things through and just acts on how he’s feeling. And that makes him feel Worse about himself and just Everything in general

he is more confident with his decision making skills if he feels more prepared/knowledgeable on the subject at hand or is taking on a caretaker role (like with marcy, or f&c). but currently he dosen’t have a lot of that going on so that kinda sucks for his self confidence. 

simon is better at empathizing with people than betty & at creating connections with others & is more caring towards people he dosen’t know that well - and so may consider Other People more in his perspectives on things. But on the other hand hes not always the best at reading people or understanding their perspectives, even if he feels emotional connections and cares about people, so he can easily overlook other people’s struggles or perspectives within an issue - even if he cares deeply about their wellbeing (very relevant to his relationship with betty)

he’s generally more emotion driven than betty, and dwells on & ruminates about his feelings, sometimes to the point of obscuring his understanding of a situation or his ability to engage with it. On The Other Hand this means he at least acknowledges how he’s feeling meanwhile betty is like “im classifying that as irrelevant information until further notice” lmao. 

he’s better at understanding nuance & subjectivity than betty but this contributes to his habit of getting-overwhelmed by everything & Overthinking

(simon focuses on details over the big picture overall. he easily gets caught up in details and panics. he traps himself in cycles of worrying about details that can paralyze him when making decisions, and so prefers to not have to make choices. BUT simons "paralyzed with fear of making decisions" state can often be overturned by the power of Having Strong Emotions and his decisions may be Less Good because of the power of not being great and understanding other people. he's very emotion-driven and currently suffering from a billion mental health issues so sometimes all that gets in the way of his natural over-thinking. hes got a better understanding of nuance than betty & is better at Empathizing with others and more considerate but not all too great at reading them or recognizing others Feelings or Behaviors)

I THINK I REPEATED A LOT IN THIS. AGAIN, KIND OF JUST RAMBLING. HOPEFULLY IT WAS SOMEWHAT COHERENT

[according2thelore]

2023 top five!

@preseriesdean thought it would be fun for artists/authors/creators to post their favorite five creations this year, and i agree! it can be anything: your favorite posts, fics, art, edits, fanvids, anything!

i saw some folks turning this into a tag game, so here are some tags! @deanwinchesterpregnant @dyed-red @mercette @crucifysam @weirdbrothers @togethertogethersoulmates @pookeenpie

if you end up doing it, pls tag me! i'd love to see y'all's works! :)

-lizzy

so in no particular order, here are the five fics i liked the best/am the most proud of!

considering that everything i’ve written on this account (240k words of it good lord) was published since february 23rd, i’ve got a lot to work with!

i was in the fandom back in 2012-2013 until 2016-2017, and when i rewatched it recently with some friends, i realized just how many words and feelings had been broiling since. i wrote a LOT for spn back in the day (not published, just for the pure joie de vivre), but everything on the ao3 is completely new since feb!

1. tell me, why are you still so afraid?

or, the "what do you want, sam?" fic. this one might be a surprise! it did moderately well, but i'm really happy with it! i love writing weechesters/pre-series, and i hope this fic did them justice! it hit a lot of points i liked, and i had so much fun writing it!! i'm proud of it! :)

2. you're pretty when you don't speak

or, sam's wife pov. i was shocked!!! aghast!!! frankly agog!!! at how much folks loved this one! i had the idea in the shower of all places, lmao, just the idea that wait, being sam's wife must be so lonely. it was not the usual fare (and written in second-person pov), so i was expecting it to gently and quietly flop. but no! i wrote this fic in two sittings at one a.m. the night before a paleopathology exam, so i'm shocked any of it was coherent in the morning. thank you, dear reader, if you interacted w it at all! :)

3. romans 3:10-11

ahh, romans. to other folks that write, this was one of those fics that scratched in my bones until i sat down and wrote it all out. does that sound pretentious? it was stifling; it was all i could think about. even now, i look back on it and feel like there are things that are missing, extended scenes and extra themes that i wished i had teased out. the response was overwhelming and positive and i'm so glad you lot liked it! if you ever want more...idk...lemme know...

4. we didn't get it right, but love we did our best

or, the Heaven fic! this one took awhile to make, and a lot out of me to do! it's the longest fic i've made this year, by a lot! the planning process was a lot of fun (even though charlotte was mostly asleep), and i even colour-coded themes and turning points i wanted to include. the sense of accomplishment when it was done was a great part of this year!

5. there's no such thing as a clean break, when your heart starts bleeding out

or, the stanford!era fic where dean bleeds out on the highway and decides to not tell sam about it. one of my favorite things to write is a character getting more and more out of it as they lose control (or blood), and this one was a fun challenge! i love stanford!era dean, because he's so mangled and angry and sad. i feel like that one tweet that william shatner posted where he said ELECTROCUTE HIM!!! this also feels the most like the things i wrote back in 2014, so it brings nostalgia :,)

this was WAY harder than i thought! i loved and was so proud of so much of my work this year! a top ten would be easier, but i'm happy with this list!

thank YOU for reading! :)

we are holding hands now and there's nothing you can do to stop it. y'all keep this up and we might even have to stare lovingly into each other's eyes.

[daimyosprincess]

Hoi I love your works and stories. I would love to write boba fett but have no idea how. Any tips for first time boba fett writers ?

ksjflfjfdksujslfj anon thank you so much 💖🥹😭

I am but an untrained, babey writer myself but I can tell you how I crafted my approach to writing Boba!

Step 1, be obsessed with Boba Fett since childhood, grow up, rediscover your love for him and Temuera Morrison as a slightly unhinged adult.

What hopefully is not just pure rambling below the cut

I watched The Mandalorian (specifically Boba's episodes in season 2) and TBOBF a concerning amount of times, and scoured Tumblr/AO3 for fics of our fav green tin can man. Got comfy with the character, figured out what drives him, what his motivations are, what his worldview and outlook are like. Essentially, my process boiled down to the following:

Immerse myself in the source content

Read, read, read & comment, comment, comment

Talking to the authors who inspired me (like you're doing now!)

Just started writing any and everything that came to me

Read some more, commented some more

Kept writing, saved everything

Got feedback

Now obviously everyone will have their own interpretations of a character, but to me, much of Boba's outlook and personality are defined by the death of his father. He is an intelligent boy raised with love by one of the galaxy's best bounty hunters, who teaches him not only about survival but also honor, respect, and personal responsibility. Jango was far from perfect (as we all are) but he did genuinely love his son and didn't hide that from Boba.

Besides the obvious trauma of seeing his father beheaded in front of him, Boba experienced a lifetime of further trauma that would have easily made him go back on what his father instilled in him. He was angry and he was alone during this time, his motivations being centered in anger and inexorable control (as seen in his drive to keep his reputation as a hunter stellar). To him, others were a liability, caring about anyone would only lead to pain. Boba burned bright and hot, but ultimately this path was not sustainable.

After the sarlacc and his time with the Tuskens, Boba was able to grow past the shadow of his father's death--there were different ways to honor his father than just being the best. He could heal himself, lead with respect and principles that harken back to his grandfather's code (whether he knows that or not), live a life that didn't have to end on some pointless job for the galaxy's scum. Boba relearned the importance of clan, that one cannot face this existence alone. Daimyo Boba now burns strong and even, fed by hearty logs rather than dry kindling.

Some posts I found helpful in characterizing Boba:

Boba's love language is acts of service by @thefact0rygirl

The spectrum of dom/general sexual behavior in Star Wars men by @rexxdjarin

Me and @rexxdjarin's comments on her Afflictions fic

Post

Post

Boba is funny send tweet

Boba's got a way with (written) words

Boba and words 2

Post

Boba is the sun

Post

Boba's relationship with being Mandalorian by @deewithani

There's obvs many more but these are the ones I could find again

I hope this was what you were looking for (and coherent lmao) and best of luck with your writing! We all can't wait to see what you come up with for our beloved Boba 💚

No pressure tags if some of these other Boba writers (and anyone else!) want to add anything to this: @rexxdjarin @thefact0rygirl @saradika @acatalystrising @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @bobathirstaccount @deewithani @writingwintermoon